chapter 16

 

 

Seven of Nine completed the calculation, altered the program she was writing, and set it to run. Normally she would have immediately begun work on the next program, but today she did something that would previously have been unthinkable—she stopped working and gave her entire mind over to the problem that had been occupying a significant part of it for six days now.

Revi.

Seven had adapted so quickly to having another voice in her mind that she could no longer remember what it had been like to hear nothing. Until Revi entered a regeneration cycle, that is, and then the silence hit her like a physical blow. She had immediately altered her own regeneration schedule to match Revi’s, in order to avoid the terrible quiet of her mind.

The problem was that Revi was sharing only her thoughts. Not her emotions. Not since that first day after her initial regeneration, when the doctor had been like an open file to Seven’s mind.

Revi’s first week in sickbay had gone very well. Since she was aware of her friend’s thoughts at all times, she knew that there had been no problems that Revi had not been able to quickly solve. She even knew what the problems were, and the solutions that Revi had devised. Their link allowed her to assimilate medical information as well, an area of study in which she had formerly had little interest.

What she did not know was how Revi was feeling about working in a sickbay once again, about people depending on her to help them. Revi was shielding her emotions, and for Seven this feeling of being held outside—especially after their initial intimacy—was doubly frustrating. It was taking up more and more of her mental processes, finally bringing her to this point:  she was actually doing no work at all, instead devoting her entire cortical implant to consideration of the problem. Except, of course, that part of her implant that was always monitoring Revi’s thoughts.

The situation was unacceptable.

Seven’s thoughts were interrupted when the Astrometrics doors opened and Lynne walked in. A frequent visitor, Lynne loved the images of astronomical phenomena that Seven processed in her work. For months now, Seven had copied what she felt were the best images into a separate file, enabling quick access when her friend dropped by. Lynne’s understanding of the physics behind the phenomena was rudimentary at best, but her aesthetic appreciation was something that Seven enjoyed watching. Indeed, sometimes she even found herself sharing that appreciation. But not today.

“Hi, Seven! What are you working on?” Lynne’s voice was cheery, and Seven was surprised to note her own irritation at her friend’s tone.

“Nothing,” she answered.

Lynne stopped walking. “Nothing?” Now her tone was incredulous. “You’re never working on nothing. Not in here. Is something broken?”

“If you are referring to Astrometrics equipment, no. If you are referring to me, I am unsure.”

Lynne had been looking around the room, but Seven’s answer brought her up short. She closed the distance between them and looked intently into Seven’s eyes.

“Seven, what’s wrong?”

The concern in her voice washed away Seven’s irritation and replaced it with something much worse:  vulnerability. Seven looked away quickly. “I…I do not know,” she said. “That is part of the problem.”

Gentle fingers on her chin brought her head back around, and she met Lynne’s gaze reluctantly.

“Okay, now you’re scaring me,” said Lynne, and indeed Seven could see the worry in her eyes. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

“I wish I didn’t have to,” said Seven bitterly. “It would be so much more efficient if you could just link your mind with mine and see for yourself. It’s sometimes so difficult for me to explain, and it has been so…satisfying to not be required to do so.” That wasn’t the word she wanted, but at the moment she could not verbalize her feelings. Her frustration increased.

“This is about Revi, isn’t it?”

Seven nodded.

“Is she all right?”

“I believe so,” said Seven. “But she is no longer allowing me to feel her emotions, so I can’t be sure.”

“Ah.”

The one-word answer revealed nothing to Seven. “Clarify,” she said. “What does ‘ah’ mean?”

Lynne leaned against a console. “It means I think you just told me what’s going on. Are you upset because Revi is no longer sharing her emotions?”

“I do not know if ‘upset’ is the correct term,” said Seven. “She shared herself so completely the first day after her initial regeneration, and it felt…normal. As if I had been missing a component to my cranial implant, and our connection had restored that component. But since then she has raised her emotional shields and I cannot sense anything from her. Now it feels as if that component is missing once more. Where I would once have been unaware of its absence, now I am all too aware of it. And it is occupying unacceptable amounts of my mental processing time.”

“I don’t know why you say it’s difficult for you to explain things,” said Lynne. “You just gave me a very clear picture of what you’re feeling, in very few words. I know a lot of people who couldn’t express themselves half as well as you just did.”

“You understand?” Seven hadn’t hoped that anyone could.

“I think so. And I think I might understand what Revi is feeling, too.”

“Tell me.” Seven took a step closer to Lynne, as if physical proximity could enhance her understanding.

“Whoa.” Lynne held up her hands. “I will, but stop looking at me like you’re about to eat me alive.”

Seven tilted her implant toward her friend in confusion. “The Borg have never practiced cannibalism.”

“It was a figure of speech, Seven. You’re just being extremely intense right now, and I need a little breathing space.” She put her hands on Seven’s shoulders, which were nearly touching her own, and gently pushed her back a half step. Leaving her hands were they were, she said, “I think Revi’s just scared.”

“Of what?” Green eyes bored into her own, and Lynne raised an eyebrow. “Of me?” The idea was nearly incomprehensible.

Lynne dropped her hands. “A little. And of herself, I suspect. From what Kathryn told me about your interaction in her ready room, it sounds like Revi showed you some very emotional memories of her time with the Borg. Is that correct?”

“Yes. She showed me the role she played in assimilation surgeries.” Seven did not see any reason to reveal more than that.

“Well, based on what little I know of her, and what I know of human nature, I’d say Revi showed you the deepest, darkest part of her soul, and now she’s feeling scared and vulnerable as a result. You were virtual strangers, Seven. Normally a person would need a lot more time to build up trust before revealing something like that. I think Revi showed you more than she intended, and she scared herself. She’s making up for it now by retreating.”

This explanation did not clarify anything as far as Seven was concerned. “Your theory is flawed. We were not strangers. Our minds are linked; we share our thoughts and memories. I know Revi more completely than I know even you.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.” Seven was confident of this, at least.

Lynne looked at her thoughtfully. “Okay. If Kathryn were to tell me that she’s decided I’m not qualified to be a contractor with security and that she’s yanked me off the security detail, how do you think I would react?”

“Badly,” said Seven.

Lynne laughed. “True. Can you be more specific?”

Seven imagined such a conversation between the captain and Lynne, and could easily predict the course of it. “You would reject her decision and attempt to convince her that she was wrong. Failing that, you would set about proving your qualification, no doubt in some ill-advised and misguided manner.” Lynne snorted. “You would not cease your attempts to prove her wrong until she either admitted her error, or you learned for yourself that her assessment was correct. In the time it took for either of those resolutions, I believe that your relationship with the captain would be strained.”

Lynne nodded. “You know me very well, Seven. That’s pretty much exactly what I’d do. So, let’s change the scenario a little. Let’s say that Kathryn told Revi that she was not qualified to work in sickbay and was being pulled from the position. How would Revi react?”

Seven opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again as several possible scenarios ran through her mind. Revi had been doing well in sickbay over the last week, and might be outraged to have her professionalism questioned. But, given how reluctant she’d been to take the role in the first place, she might also be relieved to have the pressure removed. Would she be saddened? Resigned? Or would she fight the decision?

“I do not know,” she admitted. “I can envision several outcomes to such a conversation, but I cannot assign a greater probability to any one of them.”

Lynne’s voice was gentle. “In other words, you don’t know her well enough to predict her emotions or behavior.”

“I…no, I do not.” Seven found this revelation somewhat bewildering. She’d thought their mental link precluded the uncertainty that prevailed in so many of her interactions with other crewmembers. To find this was not the case was unsettling. She’d been so secure in the comfort of their connection—was that an illusion? A Borg connection was inclusive and straightforward, but their connection had the added complication of human emotions and individuality. Apparently that complication introduced a high number of variables.

She looked unhappily at Lynne. “Our connection is not as complete as I had believed.”

“That’s okay,” said Lynne. “Really, it is. You and Revi are still way ahead of the game, you know. Your mental connection may not be complete, but it’s still much, much more than the rest of us ever have. You just need time to get to know each other on other levels. Time to build up trust and understanding. I’d bet that as Revi gets to know you better, she’ll drop some of that emotional shielding.”

“I still do not understand why such shielding is necessary in the first place,” Seven said. Her frustration was returning—what was the point of their connection if they were required to complete the same time-consuming, confusing period of acquaintance that non-connected people went through?

“It’s necessary for self-preservation, I’d imagine,” said Lynne. “Revi can’t display her every emotion to you, not when she doesn’t know you yet. None of us can do that, Seven. That’s what a friendship is—a process of discovery and understanding, and a gradual revealing of who we are. You of all people should understand that—you’ve known the crew of Voyager for nearly four years now and yet you only reveal your true emotions to a few of us.” She touched Seven’s arm and squeezed gently. “A very lucky few of us.”

Seven looked down at the hand on her arm. Non-verbal communication. Her eidetic memory recalled the exact meaning of the gesture, as Lynne had explained it two months ago. You’re one of my best friends and I’m feeling very affectionate toward you right now. A warm, secure feeling calmed her frustrations, and she put her own hand over Lynne’s.

“Because I trust you,” she said, looking back up at Lynne. “How do I induce Revi to trust me?”

“The same way that you and I got there, Seven. Time. And I don’t think it will take long, either, not with that connection you have. Take her somewhere she’d like to go. Talk to her. Spend time with her. But you can’t ‘induce’ her to trust you. You can only demonstrate that you’re worthy of it, and let her make the choice.”

Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle came together. Seven knew exactly what to do; she had been practicing this technique for weeks. Now she could utilize her new skills on a real person instead of a hologram. Quickly her mind ran over the various programs they had utilized, and she nodded in satisfaction.

“I will take her on a date,” she announced.

Lynne’s grin was huge. “You go, girl,” she said. “Make me proud.”

Seven felt her own lips curve into a smile. “I will do my best.” Having decided on a course of action, she saw no reason for delay. While continuing to monitor her conversation with Lynne, she extended her thoughts into the link.

: Revi. :

: Yes. :  The response was immediate, as always.

: When your shift is complete this evening, would you wish to accompany me to the holodeck? I have a program that you might enjoy. :

A faint feeling of surprise, then interested speculation. Seven was surprised herself—these were the first emotions she’d felt from Revi for days.

: What kind of program? :

: It is based in Greece, on Earth. A restaurant on the edge of a sea cliff. The food is satisfactory and the redshifted wavelengths of the sun are aesthetically pleasing. I believe you will find it more enjoyable than ingesting nutrients in the mess hall. :

: You’re asking me to a sunset dinner? :

: Is that not what I just said? :

Now Seven felt Revi’s amusement.

: How can I resist an invitation like that? Sure, Seven. Where and what time? :

During the conversation, Seven had been checking the holodeck reservations and had already made her own.

: 1900 hours, Holodeck One. :

: Okay. I’ll be there. :

: Thank you. I look forward to it. :

Ending the active link with Revi, she interrupted Lynne, who had been attempting to caution her that the reality of dating Revi might be different from her prior experiences with holodeck dates programmed to respond positively.

“I appreciate your concern,” she said. “However, she has already agreed to a date tonight, so I do not believe that such concerns are warranted.”

Lynne’s brows drew together. “Wait a minute. When did you ask her?”

“Twelve seconds ago.”

She watched as Lynne processed this information, shook her head, and began to laugh.

“I fail to see what is amusing,” she said, while Lynne continued to chuckle.

“I’m just laughing at the rest of us—all of us poor slobs who have to do this the hard way. That must be incredible, being able to hear each other like that.”

“I do not think of it as incredible,” said Seven. “It is merely a return to normalcy.”

Lynne’s smile slipped off her face. “I guess it is at that.” She patted Seven’s upper arm. “Good luck, Seven. I hope it works out as well as you could wish. You deserve it. So where are you taking her?”

Being deserving had nothing to do with the outcome of events, Seven knew. But she appreciated the sentiment.

“To Kronos.”

“Ooh, yeah, that was a great program, wasn’t it? Sun, sea, scenery and privacy…” Lynne trailed off as her expression became thoughtful. “You know, Seven, you’re giving me an idea here, and that’s a scary thing.”

“Is this a figure of speech? Your heartbeat and respiration do not indicate fright.”

“No, but they might later,” was the cryptic answer.

Seven knew better than to pursue this line of conversation. When Lynne became evasive, very little would induce her to reveal more information. However, she had learned that the information would usually be presented voluntarily, at a later date.

They spoke for a few minutes longer, viewed what Seven felt was a particularly intriguing radiation signature from a distant star, and then Lynne left Seven alone with her thoughts. Which, she realized, were a great deal less frustrating and more pleasant than they had been half an hour ago. She checked the program she’d left running, nodded at its satisfactory progress, and began work on her next calculation.

 

 

 

 

---

Chapter 17

 

 

“Hey, Fossil!” B’Elanna couldn’t resist goading her friend as she plunked her tray on the table and pulled up a chair. “What are you doing out of the brig?”

“Funny. You’re just hilarious,” said Lynne, shooting a glare across the table.

B’Elanna tried a bite of the roasted whatever—she hadn’t actually caught what Neelix had called it, and was somewhat fearful about asking for clarification—and found it to be reasonably good. Oh well, what you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. Sometimes. Swallowing, she said, “Well, you seem to be doing your best to beat Seven’s record for Most Times in the Brig in a Four-Month Period. Though Tom still has the record for longest total time in the brig—maybe that’s the goal you should shoot for.”

Lynne put her fork down. “B’Elanna, considering that my last trip there was due to decking Parker, aren’t you just a little nervous about pushing my buttons? I’d go to the brig with a smile on my face for the privilege of wiping that smirk off yours. And these folks—” she waved her hand to indicate the crew currently dining in the mess hall—“would no doubt applaud me.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” said B’Elanna. “They’d be too scared.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Which is precisely why I like you. You’re feisty.”

Lynne slammed down the water glass she’d just picked up. “Feisty??” she said with an incredulous look. “No way. ‘Feisty’ is a term for shorties like you. You know, people you wouldn’t expect to be vicious because they’re so cute-looking. I think a better word for me would be, let’s see…” She snapped her fingers. “Intimidating.”

B’Elanna was still choking on her latest bite of food, stunned that Lynne would call her short and then compound it by calling her cute. When she could breathe again, she treated her friend to the most scathing glare in her arsenal. Lynne smiled innocently back at her, and eventually B’Elanna had to laugh.

“You’re about as intimidating as Naomi Wildman,” she said good-naturedly. “And I will kick your ass for that ‘cute’ comment.”

“Promises, promises.”

With the traditional introductory insults now complete, the two friends caught up on news. They hadn’t seen much of each other since Dakmor, and B’Elanna was dying to hear Lynne’s side of things. More than that, she wanted to know that her friend was all right after such an eventful mission. Lynne wasn’t Starfleet, nor was she Maqui, and B’Elanna was worried about how she would deal with what she’d been forced to do on Dakmor.

When Lynne finished her tale, B’Elanna asked the question that was foremost on her mind.

“How are you doing now?”

“I’m fine,” said Lynne offhandedly. “The Doctor fixed me right up. Besides, I’ve taken worse hits from Tuvok during sparring.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” Sometimes Lynne could be intentionally dense.

Lynne looked her in the eye. “Did you mean, how am I doing now that I’ve killed my first man?”

And then sometimes she could be alarmingly direct, thought B’Elanna. “And people say I’m blunt.”

“I’ve been taking lessons from you and Seven,” said Lynne. “And as for your question…I guess it’s safe to say that I’m better today than I was yesterday. Kathryn and I had a good talk, and I did some meditation with Tuvok this morning. It’s helped. Which reminds me, I’ve got a favor I wanted to ask you.”

B’Elanna knew she was being redirected, but she accepted it with a good grace. “Okay, what is it? Ask and you may receive, depending on my mood at the moment.”

“Well, I was hoping I’d get more consideration than that, but I guess I’ll take what I can get. I need a holodeck program designed.”

“For Seven?”

Lynne got a strange smile on her face. “No, not for Seven. For me.”

“Okaaay,” said B’Elanna. “What did you have in mind?”

Lynne slid a PADD across the table. “That.”

B’Elanna looked at the holopic. “Well, that’s fairly simple.”

“With these additions,” said Lynne, reaching across to hit a button on the PADD.

Scanning the list, B’Elanna smiled. “This looks like a pretty hot date.”

“The hottest. And I’m willing to repay you for your time in any way I can. I’ve got some replicator rations saved up.”

B’Elanna waved off the offer. “I don’t take rations from friends.”

“You take them from Tom. I saw you take him for thirty rations last week at Sandrine’s. I didn’t know you could play poker that well.”

B’Elanna grinned at the memory. “I can, and he should have known better, and he’s not a friend. He’s Tom.”

“Poor bastard.”

“Too true,” agreed B’Elanna, still looking at the list. If she didn’t know any better… “So what’s this really for?” she asked.

“I can’t say yet,” said Lynne. “But when I can, you’ll be the first to know.”

The evasive answer served to confirm B’Elanna’s suspicions. “Well, I think I can have this ready in a few days. Good luck with it. For what it’s worth, I think you’ve already got it sewn up.”

The two friends looked at each other, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

“Thanks, B’Elanna,” said Lynne. “I really appreciate this.”

“Don’t thank me,” said B’Elanna. “I’m doing this for my own selfish interests. Janeway was worse than a bear in heat when you two had your argument. The sooner you get things settled, the better for all of us.”

“Great,” said Lynne sarcastically. “So I have the well being of the entire ship’s crew on my shoulders. Nothing like a little pressure.”

“Don’t worry, Fossil. You’ll do fine.” Oh yes, she couldn’t wait to hear how this one turned out. This was going to feed the gossip mill for weeks.

 

 

-----

 

 

Seven was unsurprised to find Revi waiting outside the doors when she arrived. Punctuality was not a virtue for the Borg; it was simply a part of the programming. Being ex-Borg did not seem to alter that particular bit of code.

“Revi,” she said. “Thank you for coming.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” said Revi. “I must confess I’m curious to see what sort of sunset dinner you’d program in the holodeck. For some reason that doesn’t really seem your style.”

Seven selected the program from the control panel and stepped forward. As the doors slid open she said, “I did not create this program. It was created for…training purposes.” She paused, allowing Revi to enter first, then walked in behind her. The doors closed and vanished, leaving them on a stone pathway along a sheer sea cliff.

Revi looked around appreciatively as they walked along the path. “Training purposes? For what?”

“B’Elanna and Lynne have been creating scenarios so that I may better develop my dating skills.”

“You’ve been learning to date on the holodeck?” Revi’s tone was amused.

Seven stopped walking. She was stunned and hurt that Revi, of all people, would laugh at her.

“I did not expect that you would denigrate my efforts to regain my humanity,” she said. She kept her voice even and her face impassive, her usual defense against the judgment and misunderstanding of others.

But she couldn’t control her thoughts or emotions, and watched as Revi stopped, shoulders slightly hunched, then wheeled around and walked back to her.

“Seven, I’m four kinds of an asshole, and this was a bad start to our evening. Can we restart this conversation from an earlier time index?” She raised her hand, pushing an imaginary panel with her finger, and then said, “Training purposes? For what?”

Seven saw no point to this and opened her mouth to say so.

: Please, Seven. :

Her jaw clicked shut, and after a moment she repeated the words. “B’Elanna and Lynne have been creating scenarios so that I may better develop my dating skills.”

“That surprises me,” said Revi, looking at her intently. “I wouldn’t have thought that someone as brilliant and articulate as you would have to resort to the holodeck for dates. It doesn’t say much for your shipmates.”

“Is that truly what you meant to say?” Seven wanted to be convinced.

“That’s truly what I meant to say, and I’m sorry it came out so badly. I would never denigrate your efforts to regain your humanity, Seven. Honestly, I think you’re more human than a lot of people I know, and I can only admire your attempts to improve even more.”

Seven knew from Revi’s thoughts that she was completely sincere. “Very well,” she said. “I accept your apology. Shall we find our table?”

“Just like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I hurt your feelings, and you’re over it just like that?” Revi looked incredulous. “I mean, I can sense that you’ve dismissed it. But I don’t get it.”

“You’ve apologized and I have accepted it. Why would I not dismiss the situation? To not do so would be inefficient.”

Revi shook her head, a slight smile on her face. “Well, Seven, suffice to say that ninety-nine point nine percent of the human race would not take your view of things.”

“I am accustomed to that,” said Seven as she began to walk once more.

“I guess you are.” Revi kept pace with her, and nothing more was said until they were seated at their table, on a private terrace overlooking the blue sea far beneath them. Revi shook out her napkin and put it in her lap, looking around as she did so. “So tell me about this place,” she said. “Why did you choose it?”

“It is a replica of a restaurant B’Elanna once frequented in Greece. I find the architecture of the town beneath us very pleasing aesthetically. In addition, I enjoy the uniformity of the colors—the brilliant white of the buildings against the rocky cliffs and the blue water. It is unusual for humans to choose a single color for their dwellings, yet they have done so in many Grecian coastal towns. I also enjoy the height and the openness here. It makes me feel…unfettered.” Seven stopped speaking, afraid she’d already said too much.

“Interesting,” said Revi. “Architecture is both mathematics and art, one of which is a Borg specialty, the other human. Uniformity is a Borg trait. Openness and freedom are certainly not.” She leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. “You’re a fascinating combination of Borg and human, Seven.”

“You view this as a positive attribute,” said Seven. It was not a question; she could sense that much from Revi. “That is not the usual reaction. Most of my crewmates fear that part of me which is Borg, though the situation has improved in the last year. I am fortunate in that there are a special few who have not judged me at all.”

“I’ll bet I can name two of them,” said Revi. “Captain Janeway was the first person I met since leaving the Cooperative who knew me as Borg and didn’t recoil. And Lynne didn’t seem to even notice my Borgness. It was—astonishing, actually. I saw a lot of fear and hatred in my travels.”

Seven well remembered Revi’s passionate outburst in Cargo Bay Two. “You said you would give anything to have what I have now.”

By the look on Revi’s face, she remembered that conversation equally well. Even if she hadn’t, Seven’s thoughts would have presented her with a clear image. “Yes. Seven, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. I—”

“Good evening, ladies, would you like something to drink before you order?”

Both women looked up at the waiter, who hovered expectantly over them.

“Sparkling apple cider, please,” said Seven, for whom ordering in restaurants had become routine. After her hours of practice in the holodeck, she could hardly believe that it had once been so difficult for her.

“That sounds good to me too,” said Revi. The waiter nodded and left them alone.

Revi eyed Seven across the table. Her manner seemed nervous.

“One principle I’ve learned in my lessons here on the holodeck,” said Seven, “is that the likelihood of a waiter arriving at one’s table is directly proportionate to the importance of the conversation.”

Revi laughed. “It’s been awhile since I was in a restaurant with good company, Seven, but from what I remember, you’re too right. Honestly, I don’t know why you’re dating on the holodeck. You’re better at this than I am.”

“I‘ve improved greatly,” said Seven, who was feeling unaccountably warm from the compliment. “If you had witnessed my first real date, you would understand just how much.”

The waiter brought their drinks and took their order, and for the next few minutes Seven described her disastrous first date for Revi’s entertainment. She could simply have remembered the date and let Revi read those memories, but in this setting, she wished to employ her hard-won conversational skills. In addition, she had discovered that—for reasons she still did not fully understand—her descriptions were often humorous to others. Lynne said it was her deadpan delivery combined with her total recall, and indeed, when Seven recounted her response to the lobster dinner ordered by her date—“This creature has an…exoskeleton,”—Revi burst out laughing. By the time she had completed her recitation, describing how she had dislocated her date’s shoulder while attempting to dance, Revi was wiping tears off her face.

“Oh, Seven, thank you,” she gasped. “I haven’t had a laugh like that in…well, I don’t know how long. That was hilarious.”

Seven was quite pleased at the result of her efforts. “I’m glad I could entertain you,” she said, and curved her lips to communicate her sincerity. It was unnecessary, of course, since Revi could easily determine what she was feeling.

“You can entertain me any time,” said Revi warmly.

The waiter chose that moment to deliver their food, and as they began eating, Seven asked Revi about her work in sick bay. She found herself listening with total concentration, not just to Revi’s words, but also her thoughts and the tone of her voice. The combination was fascinating; her previous dates seemed dull and lifeless by comparison.

: Is this a date, Seven? A real one? :  Revi had caught that thought.

Seven looked at her companion, sitting across the table with an expectant look on her face. With a shock she realized that she was no longer seeing Revi in terms of empirical characteristics, but had somehow developed a more subjective view of her. She found Revi beautiful.

Lynne’s voice came back to her, from the day that her dating training had first been outlined. You’ll know you’re attracted to someone, Lynne had said, when you suddenly start seeing them in a different way.

Seven saw no reason to prevaricate. With the Borg there had never been any pretense, and the propensity of humans to be less than fully honest was a trait she found most frustrating. The idea of not having to watch her words—or in this case, her thoughts—was extremely appealing. She abandoned speech and dove into the familiarity of mind-to-mind communication, answering Revi’s question with her usual directness.

: Lynne and B’Elanna defined a date as a social setting in which two people determine their romantic attraction for each other, based on what they learn about each other’s work, personalities, ethics, life history, and physical traits. By that definition, this is indeed a date. And based on what I have learned of you so far, I am romantically attracted to you. At least, I believe that is what I am feeling. It’s not something I have yet experienced, so I have no basis for comparison. :

Revi’s eyes were wide, and Seven caught a confused jumble of thoughts. A moment later, however, the confusion cleared and a single thought came through.

: Do you mind if I look? :

: Please do so. I would appreciate your input. :

Revi closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, something in her gaze had changed. She smiled, but her facial expression did not denote happiness.

: You’re right, Seven. That is what you’re feeling. It’s a beautiful thing to see, though I can hardly believe it’s directed at me. :

: Why not? :

: Because you could have anyone you want. :

Seven frowned. Revi was attempting to conceal part of her thoughts, but she couldn’t shield them the way she could her emotions. Seven had clearly seen that Revi thought she was not good enough.

: I do not understand why you wish to hide your thoughts from me. Nor do I understand why you would consider yourself unworthy. You are uniquely suited to me, Revi. And you are a remarkable human being. What about you would not be worthy? :

Revi dropped her fork and looked down at the table.

: I don’t know if I can do this. :

: Please explain. :  Seven didn’t need to sense Revi’s emotions to know that something was not right. And as her companion continued to study her plate, Seven became aware of faint emotional impressions. Revi’s shielding was leaking.

At last Revi looked up. : It’s funny, you know. I was a big fan of mind-to-mind communication before, because I never cared what anyone saw in my mind. They could judge me or not, and it didn’t matter. But it matters now. :

: I do not understand. :

Again there was that sad smile.

: I care what you think about me, Seven. If you judge me it will hurt. :

: But I have not judged you. :  Seven was getting more confused the more Revi explained.

: No, not yet. But you don’t know me that well, either. :

Seven sat back in her chair with the force of both Revi’s thoughts and her own realization.

: This is why you have been shielding your emotions. :

Revi nodded. : Partly. And partly because I don’t want to burden you. And partly because I still don’t know you that well. :  She shifted her gaze to the town below them, sparkling against the deep blue of the Mediterranean Sea. Seven could hear her admiration of the setting.

“Revi,” she said clearly. Revi’s head snapped around at the unexpected sound of her voice. Seven reached out to touch her human arm, and for just a moment she felt not only her own physical sense of the touch, but Revi’s as well. It was a new and very intriguing feeling, the tactile equivalent of looking into a mirror.

“I have not known you for long,” said Seven, “but I do not believe there are time constraints on friendship. And I consider you a friend. In the beginning you asked if I would let you ‘get to know me better.’ At the time I was uncertain of my feelings regarding you, but I am uncertain no longer. I would like very much for you to know me, and I wish to know you as well. Perhaps when you are more comfortable with me, you’ll believe me when I say that I will not judge you. And perhaps then you will allow me to see all of you.”

She gathered her thoughts and projected them with all the strength she had, together with her feelings of friendship and concern. Revi’s eyes closed at the onslaught, and a few seconds later Seven was flooded with emotions as Revi intentionally dropped her shields. Fear and hope were warring for dominance, along with affection for Seven and a feeling that was a more tentative version of her own romantic attraction. And behind it all, like the low-level hum of background radiation, there was an old and very painful grief.

She had barely sorted through and identified the various feelings before they were gone again. Revi opened her eyes and for a moment they simply stared at each other.

: I can’t do that on a regular basis, Seven. Not yet, anyway. But I wanted you to understand. :

: Thank you. I do understand. And I hope that one day I will earn your trust. :

Revi looked startled, then smiled. : I can tell that you’re appreciating the irony. :

: Yes. :  Out loud, Seven continued, “Shall we begin the process of ‘getting to know each other’?”

“I think we’ve done pretty well already, Seven, but what did you have in mind?”

“There are many things about a person that are not reflected in their daily thoughts or emotions,” said Seven, who had only recently realized this. “Those things require a discovery process, whether two people have a mind-to-mind connection or not. If you do not object, I will begin by asking you questions.”

Revi picked up her glass of cider and relaxed against the back of her chair. “All right. This sounds interesting. What’s your first question?”

Seven looked her in the eye, remembering something Captain Janeway had asked early in their acquaintance, when she had wondered out loud about a little girl named Annika Hansen.

“What is your favorite color?” she asked.

 

 

-----

 

 

Chakotay leaned against the bulkhead, waiting for the holodeck. He had reserved this time earlier in the week, and was looking forward to a good round of boxing to clear his head. He didn’t like butting heads with Janeway, and he didn’t like the way Revi Sandovhar had obviously snowed her. The Captain was brilliant, but she had an unfortunate blind spot when it came to people in distress. Her innate desire to help others had often led the crew into bad situations, and he was certain it was happening again. He still couldn’t believe Janeway had put Sandovhar into sickbay over his objections. How could she not see what that woman was capable of?

The holodeck doors opened and he pushed off the wall, anxious to get started. Then he stopped in his tracks as the prior occupants exited. He hadn’t checked the panel to see who had been in there, and it was an unpleasant surprise to see Sandovhar and Seven walking out together. His eyes narrowed as he took in the minimal space between the two, and the way Seven was actually smiling at something Sandovhar had just said. Seven never smiled; what the hell was that all about?

“Good evening, Commander,” said Sandovhar cordially.

“Commander.” Seven’s voice was cool as usual.

He muttered a greeting and watched as they walked away. No words passed between them, but they looked at each other as if they were having a conversation. Just before they rounded the corner, he was shocked to see Seven reach out and touch Sandovhar’s arm.

Stalking into the holodeck, he angrily called up his boxing program and set it for the highest difficulty rating. He was going to beat the shit out of his opponent today. And when he finished, he was going to figure out some way to convince Janeway that she was harboring a viper—a predator who had, by the looks of it, already sunk her fangs into a member of their crew. Because nothing could explain Seven’s uncharacteristic behavior except the one thing he had feared from the beginning—Sandovhar was obviously using mind control.

His opponent materialized, and after knocking gloves in the ritual greeting, he launched himself into a blazing attack. The sound of leather hitting flesh brought a grim smile to his face.

Sandovhar, he thought, you picked the wrong ship.

 

 

 

 

---

Chapter 18

 

 

Kathryn Janeway stood in front of the holodeck doors, feeling a prickle of uncertainty and expectation. Ever since Lynne had finally opened up about the events at Dakmor, she’d been acting a bit strangely. Nothing that Janeway could put a finger on, but something just wasn’t right. It had been nearly a week now, and she was just about ready to call her on it. But then the invitation had appeared on her computer.

Lynne’s note had simply asked her to come to Holodeck One at 1830 hours, and to wear something formal. It was the latter part that left her wondering; in their time together, she’d only seen Lynne in formal wear on the Tsian planet.

At first she’d pulled out her dress uniform, but then realized that Lynne would have specified that if she’d wanted it. Instead she put on a dress that Lynne hadn’t yet seen; a full-length, backless, silky gown with a slit nearly to her hip. She felt a bit self-conscious walking through the corridors, but held her head high as she made her way to the holodeck. Whether in uniform or formal wear, the first rule of a captain was the same:  Never let them see you sweat. She’d mentioned that to Lynne once and had been taken aback by her partner’s sudden explosion of laughter. When Lynne could breathe again, she’d explained that never in a million years would she have expected a commercial to survive into the twenty-fourth century.

Janeway smiled at the memory as she stepped forward. The doors opened, revealing a surprising scene.

She was on a mountain. Steep, rocky slopes fell away from her on three sides, while ahead of her a smooth path wound its way up a slight incline, its end hidden from view by a large boulder. Looking down, she could see the shadows of deep woods clustering the flanks of the mountain. The treeline appeared to be nearly a thousand meters below, and immense fields of snow and ice blanketed the slopes in between. Yet the path ahead of her was clear, and the air was warm with just a faint breeze. Overhead, the sky was a blue so dark that it was nearly violet.

I’m supposed to climb a damn mountain in formal wear? She shook her head as she followed the path upward. It was an easy walk, really, and she was abreast of the free-standing boulder in no time. Stepping around it, she stopped dead at the view before her.

While the slopes behind her had led to forest and then valleys, this final slope looked directly into a wild, icy mountain range. Everywhere ahead of her were breathtaking peaks, hanging valleys, and glaciers. Not a wisp of cloud could be seen, and the pure, arctic white of the snowy peaks was dazzling against the blue sky.

A small table waited at the edge of the summit, draped in white linen that echoed the icy peaks all around her. It was set for a formal dinner and laden with covered silver serving dishes. At the center of the table was an arrangement of greens surrounding a bud vase, which was curiously empty.

All of this she took in at a glance, but what really drew her eye was the woman in a full-length, brilliant red gown, standing at the edge of the precipice. For once Lynne’s hair was down, moving slightly in the soft breeze. She was gazing at the view and seemingly unaware of Janeway’s presence.

Janeway moved down the path toward Lynne, admiring the way her partner’s sleeveless, backless dress clung to her form and showed off her toned body. As she drew within arm’s reach, Lynne turned around to face her.

“Hello, love,” she said, smiling. She held out a single rose. “You look absolutely stunning. Thank you for coming.”

“Well, I couldn’t resist a mysterious invitation like that,” said Janeway, reaching for the rose. “And you look…edible.” She enjoyed Lynne’s blush. God, her dark hair against that red dress was just glorious.

“Careful,” cautioned Lynne as Janeway’s fingers closed around the stem. “I replicated it with thorns intact.”

Janeway held the rose cautiously. “Why?” she asked. Nobody replicated roses with thorns; there wasn’t much point to it. So to speak.

Lynne stepped closer, putting her hands on Janeway’s waist. “Because the most beautiful things in the universe exact a price from those who would appreciate them. And that’s the way it should be.”

She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Janeway’s lips before stepping back and tugging her free hand. “Come on.”

They walked the few steps to the precipice, where the full view revealed itself. As they stood in silence, looking out over the rocky peaks, Janeway turned Lynne’s enigmatic words over in her mind. She was sure there was a serious implication in there somewhere. Holding her rose up, she enjoyed the delicate scent.

“If you hold the rose carefully, you won’t be pricked by the thorns,” she said. “So what would the price be then?”

“That is the price,” answered Lynne, turning to look at her directly. “The very fact that you can’t simply pick it up without caution. The fact that you have to take time with it, and treat it carefully, or you’ll get hurt.” She waved a hand at the scene before them. “Mountains give you amazing beauty and a sense of peace and serenity that can’t be found anywhere else—but they can kill you just as well, so you give them the greatest respect and tread very carefully as you climb them.” She looked intently into Janeway’s eyes. “And you, Kathryn, are more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen, but you’re also more dangerous to me than anything I’ve ever known.”

Janeway felt a twinge of fear. “Are you saying that you’re paying a price for being with me?”

Lynne’s answer was matter-of-fact. “Of course. Just like you’re paying one for being with me. But I’m not concerned about actual costs, Kathryn. Just potential ones.” She indicated the rose in Janeway’s hand. “The actual price for holding that is the care you have to take with it. The potential price is getting pricked if you don’t.” She turned back to the view. “All my life I’ve paid the actual price for mountain climbing—having to train and plan carefully and never, ever take a climb for granted—and as a result I’ve never had to pay the potential price, of being seriously hurt or killed.”

“And with me,” said Janeway, following Lynne’s reasoning, “the actual price was your decision at Earth. So what’s the potential price?”

Lynne faced her once again, this time gently clasping her hands around Janeway’s and the rose. “You hold my heart in your hands, Kathryn. I can’t get it back, and I can’t walk away without leaving it behind. You have the ability to shatter me. I’ve never given anyone that kind of power before—it thrills me, and at the same time it scares the hell out of me.”

Janeway stared into her partner’s eyes. She was astonished; Lynne hardly ever opened up quite like this, and the rare occasions when she did were usually preceded by long talks and a few drinks. Yet here she was, minutes into the evening and laying open her heart and soul.

“You look a bit stunned,” said Lynne with a half-smile. She dropped her hands to Janeway’s waist.

“That’s a fair assessment. I hardly know what to say, except that the price you’re describing applies to me as well. You hold the same power over me. And I would never hurt you.”

“Of course you will,” said Lynne easily. “Maybe not intentionally, but you will. It can’t be helped; it’s just part of the deal when two people hold each other’s hearts. I’ll hurt you, too, though I’ll do my best not to. And I’ve been thinking a lot about how much I’ve hurt you already.”

Janeway nodded. “The day before Dakmor.”

“Yes. And afterward, too.”

“Afterward?” Janeway searched her memory and came up blank. “Not that I can recall.”

Lynne looked over at the snowy peaks, and Janeway watched the muscle in her cheek jump as she clenched her jaw. “I heard you that night.”

“What night?”

“Five days after Dakmor. You asked if I would ever let you in.”

The penny dropped. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I know.”

Janeway cupped Lynne’s chin and brought her head around. The green eyes that met hers held guilt and sorrow.

“Lynne, why?”

“Because I didn’t have an answer. At first I was pissed because I thought I was letting you in, but then I thought about it and realized that I wasn’t, not really. And that got me to thinking about why I wasn’t. Which is why we’re here now.”

Janeway looked around them. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why are we here now?”

“Because I needed this environment to explain.”

Janeway waited, but nothing more was forthcoming. She was starting to feel a bit impatient. “Well, that’s great, Lynne. So are you going to explain anytime soon?”

“I already did.” Now those eyes were looking more than a little mischievous.

“Lynne….” The name came out as a growl.

A grin broke over her lover’s face as Lynne held her hands up in a placatory gesture. “Okay, okay! God, you’re easy.” Her expression turned serious again. “The cost, Kathryn. I’ve been afraid of the potential cost of completely opening up to you. Of giving you so much power over me. And, I guess, of you maybe not liking what you see once you really see it all.”

Janeway opened her mouth to protest, but Lynne shook her head. “Please,” she said. “I need to get this out.” She took a deep breath.

 “The funny thing is, I thought I’d already accepted all that when I came back from Earth, and that I was already giving you all of me. I didn’t even realize that I was still holding back until I heard you that night, and it was a shock to think that I could be so blind about my part in our relationship. I think that sometimes, there’s so much going on in my head that I forget I haven’t shared it with you. And other times, I don’t particularly want to share, because what I’m thinking or feeling doesn’t really do me a lot of credit. And I want you to think the best of me.”

Janeway held Lynne’s gaze, willing her to accept the truth.

“Lynne, when I say I love you, that doesn’t mean that I love the best parts of you and would rather not know about the rest. It means I love you, period. All of you. But if you don’t let me in, if you don’t let me really see you, then you’re denying me the chance to truly love you. Do you understand that?”

Lynne tapped herself in the head. “I do up here.” She moved her hand to cover her heart and added, “But this is the problem. Sometimes my heart overrules my intellect, and unfortunately, sometimes that heart just runs scared. But I promise, Kathryn, I promise that I’ll do my best to open up more. It may take some practice, and you’ll probably have to push me sometimes, but I want to let you in. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Janeway wanted to believe; she really did. The doubt must have shown in her eyes.

“I know,” said Lynne. “Talk is cheap. So I was hoping that my actions might convince you.” She leaned down and plucked a small box from its place of concealment behind a rock, and Janeway watched in shock as her lover dropped to one knee, her gown pooling around her. Lynne opened the box, revealing two bands of gold, both inlaid with green and blue gems. They were the inverse of each other—one with green gems bracketing blue, and the other with blue bracketing green.

Lynne pulled out the ring with the brilliant green gem at its center and looked up into Janeway’s astonished face.

“This ring represents my heart in your hands,” she said. “And I want you to hold that heart forever. Kathryn, you asked me if I would marry you, someday, when I felt comfortable with it. I know you were being careful because of my fears, and I loved you for it. But I’ve realized that my quarters aren’t the only security I have left. You are my only true security, and I’ve been an idiot not to go to you when you asked. So I’m asking you now. Will you marry me?”

Janeway opened her mouth, but her voice had apparently gone on vacation. Leaning over, she grasped Lynne’s forearm and urged her upright. When they stood face to face, her voice finally returned.

“Don’t you get on your knees for me or anyone,” she said fiercely. “Your pride and your strength are two of the things I love most about you.” A tear escaped, and she swiped it away impatiently. “And yes, I’ll marry you in a heartbeat.”

She switched the rose to her right hand and held out her left. Lynne set down the box with the remaining ring and straightened, taking Janeway’s hand. Carefully she slipped on the ring, and when she looked up her blazing smile left Janeway weak in the knees. Leaning forward, she captured Janeway’s lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

When they separated, Lynne wiped away a few of her own tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Without answering, Janeway gave the rose to Lynne, retrieved the second ring from the box and took Lynne’s left hand in her own. “So this ring represents my heart in your hands?”

Lynne nodded, and Janeway smiled. “Then I should have given it to you months ago, because you’ve been holding that heart for a long time already.” She slid the ring on and stared at it, then flipped their hands over to stare at her own. So much meaning packed into such tiny little objects, she thought.

“I love you,” she said. “And I’d tell you that you’ve made me the happiest woman in the world, but that seems kind of small-minded. But I do think it’s quite possible that I’m the happiest woman in the quadrant right now.”

“Nope. It’s a tie,” said Lynne, her voice shaking. “And I love you, too. Thanks for being so patient with me while I was busy being a fool.”

“Never a fool,” said Janeway. She lifted their clasped hands and kissed Lynne’s finger, just below the ring. “Just scared. And that’s okay.”

Lynne’s lips trembled, and Janeway knew she was barely holding it together. Strangely, seeing Lynne so near a loss of control calmed her own nerves. Perhaps it was because it showed that her partner wasn’t holding back; that she was allowing Janeway to see her in all her imperfect glory. She squeezed their clasped hands tightly and then let go. Putting her arm around Lynne’s waist, she turned them both back toward the view and rested her head against her partner’s shoulder, enjoying the moment and allowing Lynne time to pull herself together. Her—fiancée?—had surprised the hell out of her, but then, that was what Lynne did best. She knew one thing for sure: life with this woman was never going to be boring.

“So where are we?” she asked after a while.

“The Canadian Rockies,” answered Lynne, her voice steady once more. “I love this mountain, because it keeps its secrets for the truly deserving. You don’t get this view until you’ve made it all the way to the top; there aren’t any viewpoints on the way up. When I found the holopic in the ship’s database, I knew it was where I wanted to take you.” She squeezed Janeway’s waist. “This is my world, Kathryn. It’s what I wanted to share with you when I asked you to climb with me on the Tsian home world. So this holoprogram is sort of the literal definition of the mountain coming to Mohammed.”

“I thought Mohammed went to the mountain,” said Janeway.

“He did. But you’re much more stubborn,” said Lynne, which prompted a pinch to the ribs. “Hey!” She laughed, pushing Janeway out of reach. “There’s no need to attack me for speaking the truth.”

Janeway advanced on her, holding her hands out threateningly. “Mohammed would say that truth takes many forms.”

Lynne quickly moved backward, putting the table between herself and Janeway. “Yes, and my current truth is taking the form of ravenous hunger. Can I interest you in dinner?” She pulled out a chair.

Stepping up, Janeway planted a kiss on Lynne’s lips and sat down. “Don’t think I don’t recognize this for a diversion. But I’m hungry, so I’m letting you off.” She put the rose in the bud vase and smiled at her partner’s attention to detail.

Lynne scooted her chair in and walked around to take her own. Pulling the cover off one of the serving dishes, she began ladling out a delicious-smelling soup. “So,” she began conversationally, “when shall we have the ceremony? And who do we invite?”

“That’s going to be a tough one.” Janeway cringed at the thought. The only places on the ship big enough to house the entire crew were the shuttle bay and the largest cargo bay, and she’d be damned if she’d get married in either of those cavernous spaces. No, it had to be the holodeck or the mess hall, which would limit guests, which meant they’d have to make choices. “No matter what we do we’re probably going to offend someone.”

“Oh sure,” said Lynne. “That goes without saying. Isn’t that part of the wedding tradition?”

Janeway laughed, and they spent the rest of the meal discussing options for their upcoming nuptials. The only hiccup in an otherwise perfect evening occurred when Lynne said that she wanted to keep her quarters until they were actually married. “Call me old fashioned,” she said, her eyes pleading, “but I’d just rather wait.” Janeway’s first reaction was disappointment, but after a moment’s thought she understood, and the look of relief on Lynne’s face when she said so made her quite certain that she could wait as long as it took. Which, hopefully, would not be too long.

The sun slipped below the horizon as they were finishing their dessert, lighting the peaks around them with a rose color so brilliant that Janeway couldn’t help but comment on it.

Lynne looked up from the dessert wine she was pouring and said, “Yes, I told B’Elanna that there had to be alpenglow.”

“Alpenglow?”

Lynne handed Janeway her wine and grinned at her. “You’re such a flatlander, Ms. Indiana. Alpenglow is the color that mountain peaks turn after sunset. The ice and snow reflect the late, scattered red light from the sun. But living your life in the Midwest and then in space, I guess you’d never see it.”

“Don’t be getting that superior tone with me,” warned Janeway playfully. “I understand the physics better than you ever will.”

“True,” admitted Lynne cheerfully. “But I don’t need to understand the physics to see the beauty.”

That shut Janeway up, and they both watched the light change as they sipped their wine. When the rose color began to fade and the first few stars winked into life, Janeway suspected their time in the holodeck was over. Lynne’s sigh confirmed it.

“It’s time to go.”

Janeway nodded. They stood up and joined hands, watching the last of the alpenglow fade.

“I timed it to match the sunset on Earth,” said Lynne.

Janeway looked at her partner in surprise. “So you did. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“I wanted it to be symbolic of the last of our old life. Tomorrow we start a new life, Kathryn. With each other. I’m looking forward to a future with you.”

“Past, present, and future,” said Janeway. “They all run together. And you’re with me in all of them.”

Lynne squeezed her hand as they turned down the path, rounding the boulder and nearing the spot where Janeway had first come in. Pausing, she said, “Computer, end program.”

The computer chirped its confirmation tone as the mountains faded to a familiar yellow grid, exposing the holodeck doors in front of them. Janeway felt a sense of loss, but Lynne’s warm hand in hers and the rings on their fingers were proof that it had really happened—her sometimes reluctant partner had finally given all of herself. This evening had brought a fundamental change to their lives, and she wished they could keep this newfound intimacy to themselves. But she knew that the bridge crew would bombard her with questions as soon as word got out, and she had no illusions about how long they could keep it quiet. She looked wistfully at Lynne.

“Can we come back?”

Lynne gave her a delighted smile. “I was hoping you’d ask. It means a lot to me to share my world with you. We can come back any time you want.”

They walked out of the holodeck and strolled down the hall, still holding hands. There were quite a few crew members out and about, since many of the alpha shift crew were just now leaving the mess. All of them shot startled looks at the couple, who certainly stood out in their formal dresses. Janeway simply smiled at them and kept walking. She hit the call button for the turbolift and offered a silent request that the lift be empty.

It wasn’t. The doors slid open to reveal B’Elanna Torres, whose eyes quickly scanned the two women. A large grin spread over her face. “Oh yeah, it was a hot date, all right,” she said. “Going up?”

Janeway looked at Lynne, knowing that B’Elanna would spot their rings in an instant, if she hadn’t already, and that their engagement would be all over the ship in no time.

“I think our future starts here, Lynne,” she said.

“I think you’re right. And in that case…” Lynne pulled a surprised Janeway to her and took her mouth in a possessive kiss. Janeway’s initial shock at the public display soon faded, and she threw propriety to the wind, returning Lynne’s kiss with passion. They finally parted, staring at each other, and it was several seconds before Janeway’s heart rate came down to what she considered a safe level.

She turned and stepped into the lift, where a stunned B’Elanna was doing a fairly good impression of a fish. Lynne followed her in.

“Deck three,” said Janeway, grinning to herself. It wasn’t often that she got to put that expression on B’Elanna’s face. She reached out without looking and took Lynne’s hand.

“Oh my god,” said B’Elanna from behind them. “You did it! Kahless on a crutch! Congratulations!”

Janeway rolled her eyes and turned around. “Didn’t take you long,” she said.

B’Elanna grabbed Lynne’s hand and examined her ring, grinning widely. “Nice job, Fossil!”

“Thanks. And by the way, thanks for not taking my rations. I put them to good use.”

“I guess you did!” B’Elanna let go of Lynne’s hand, reached out for Janeway’s and then froze. Janeway just smiled and lifted her hand.

“It’s okay, B’Elanna. I’ve got a feeling that I’ll just have to walk around like this until everyone gets tired of looking at it.”

Hesitantly, B’Elanna took the captain’s hand. “They’re beautiful, and I couldn’t be happier for you, Captain. Or you, Fossil,” she added, looking at Lynne. “You two were made for each other.”

Gently, Janeway pulled her hand from B’Elanna’s grasp and took Lynne’s instead. “I agree,” she said warmly.

The turbolift came to a stop, releasing Janeway and Lynne to the relative peace of the corridor. Lynne waved at B’Elanna as the doors closed, laughing as she turned to her partner.

“You realize that the news will be all over the ship by the time we get to that door,” she said, indicating the entrance to Janeway’s quarters.

“I know,” said Janeway. “Of all the people to run into! But I hadn’t planned on keeping it a secret, so it doesn’t really matter. Are you worried?”

“Oh, no. Besides, I think B’Elanna knew from the moment I asked her to create that holoprogram. I’m amazed she’s managed to keep it to herself this long. So maybe running into us on the turbolift was an act of mercy for her.”

The two women chuckled at the thought of B’Elanna dying with the news she couldn’t reveal—until now.

“I’ll bet she leaves that turbolift like she was shot from a torpedo launcher,” added Janeway as they entered her quarters.

Lynne let out a belly laugh at that one. “No bet.”

Her laughter died away as they looked at each other, and the expression on her face changed to one that Janeway recognized instantly.

“I’ve been itching to take that dress off you,” said Lynne. “Slowly.”

Janeway shivered at the sudden drop in Lynne’s tone. Stepping forward, she slipped her arms around her partner and reveled in the contact with Lynne’s warm, bare back. “I know the feeling,” she whispered. “But there’s a lot less to take off you, so why don’t I start?”

She slid her hands up Lynne’s arms and inside the dress at the shoulders, slowly moving them down to graze the tops of her breasts. The ribs under her hands expanded as Lynne took in a sharp breath. Janeway looked up into brilliant green eyes and paused, momentarily stunned at the depth of love she saw there. Dropping a soft kiss onto a bare shoulder, she tucked her head under Lynne’s chin and nestled there, feeling warm and loved and utterly content.

“Welcome home, Lynne,” she said. “Though it may be awhile before you can call it that.”

Lynne squeezed her tightly. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

“Figured what out?”

Pulling away, Lynne looked into her eyes. “Home isn’t a place anymore, Kathryn. It’s a person. You’re my home now.”

Janeway was stunned. “When you decide to open up, you go all the way, don’t you?”

Lynne shrugged. “I don’t ever want you to doubt us again. Or doubt me.” She ran her hands down Janeway’s back, brushing her fingertips ever so softly against her spine. Janeway shivered, feeling goosebumps rise all over her skin.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “That means a lot to me. And the only thing I’m doubting right now is whether I can wait until we get to the bedroom before I start stripping that dress off you.”

A slow smile made its way across Lynne’s face, and she turned for the bedroom. “Then I guess we’d better get moving.”

 

 

 

 

---

epilogue

 

 

Alison Necheyev stared at the monitor on her desk, a feeling of foreboding curling in her gut. In her six years as Chief Executive Officer of the Hamilton Foundation, she had never been summoned to a meeting with the board officers. In fact, so far as she knew, there had never been a meeting of just the board officers. She hadn’t even known they were in the building until just now, when she’d received the communication ordering her to the upstairs conference room.

She rose, pulled a PADD out of her desk, and made her way out the door, thinking furiously. Why would the chair, vice chair and secretary of the board be asking her to meet with them? The full board had just had its quarterly meeting two weeks ago, and everything had seemed fine. She’d gone over the progress of the currently funded projects and described upcoming projects that her staff had recommended for funding. It was all business as usual, just as it had been for six years. She was scrupulous about upholding the mission of the Foundation, so the grants she approved were never in question.

And yet, the only reason she could think of for her summons to this meeting was that she was being fired. Why else would the three most powerful people in the Foundation be upstairs right now, waiting for her?

She arrived in front of the closed conference room door, its polished wood gleaming dully in the late sunlight that streamed through the hall windows. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, threw open the door, and walked in. During her annual summer visits with her aunt, the Admiral, she’d learned a great deal about handling people. One of the most basic principles was to project confidence whether you felt it or not.

The first thing she noticed when she entered the room was that the officers were all at one end of the long conference table, a wooden box resting in front of them. The glass of water marking her place was in lonely isolation at the other end. Without pausing, she scooped up the glass as she walked by and carried it with her to the chair right next to Elise Hamilton. Setting the glass down, she pulled out the chair and sat, looking expectantly at the officers. She could see a quick look of annoyance on Brian Hamilton’s face, but Elise gave her a very slight, approving smile.

“Dr. Necheyev, thank you for coming,” said Brian.

As if I had any choice. “It was my pleasure,” said Alison. “Though I confess to being somewhat surprised at your invitation.” Your command, actually.

“Don’t worry,” said Elise. “You’re not being fired.”

Alison glanced at her in surprise. Elise, the vice chair, carried her wealth and power well. Her mother had married Brian’s brother, and though most women kept their own names in marriage, women who married into the powerful Hamilton clan tended to adopt their husband’s name. It conferred a great deal of prestige and power.

“You surely didn’t think that, did you?” asked Charles Fornay from across the table. He was Brian’s son-in-law, and had worked his way into the post of secretary of the board. Genial and outgoing, Charles tended to be a flirt despite his successful marriage and three children.

Alison smiled at him. She liked Charles and thought he was fairly harmless. He might flirt but he never meant it seriously.

“Offhand, I could only think of two reasons for this meeting,” she said. “So since you’re not firing me, when can I look forward to my raise?”

Both Charles and Elise laughed, but Brian seemed unamused. White-haired and holding himself with the erect bearing of a career diplomat, Brian Hamilton was the undisputed patriarch of the family. In all her board meetings, she had never seen him smile and wondered if he were even capable of it.

“The purpose of this meeting is a great deal more important than your salary, Dr. Necheyev,” he said. “And I don’t have much time this evening, so I’ll get right to the point.”

When don’t you? “Please do,” she said pleasantly.

“I assume you are familiar with the name U.S.S. Voyager.”

Alison was completely thrown. What the hell could that have to do with this mysterious meeting?

“Of course. It was big news when it disappeared.” Unfortunately, since then the Dominion War had made disappearing ships all too common, and Voyager had faded into obscurity. It had briefly flashed back into the public eye when its crew made contact via an alien communication array, but hadn’t made the news since then. She probably knew more about it than the average person, thanks to her aunt. Janeway had been a favorite captain of the Admiral’s.

“Has the crew made contact again?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” answered Brian. “We’ve made contact with them.”

Okay. That made no sense whatsoever. Alison turned at the sound of Elise’s voice.

“More specifically,” said Elise, shooting a glance at Brian, “Starfleet has made contact with them through MIDAS.”

“Really? That’s fantastic!” Alison was thrilled; development of MIDAS, or the Mutara Interdimensional Deep-space transponder Array, had been largely funded by the Foundation, and it was always good news when a grant paid off like that. “I can’t wait for their report, then. Their last report said that data transmission could be reduced from years to days by using a hyper-subspace concept, but it said nothing about real-time.”

“The physics are irrelevant to this meeting,” said Brian. “What is important is that Voyager reported news that we’ve been waiting for.”

Great. Now we’re back to making no sense whatsoever. Alison simply looked at him and waited.

“They’ve picked up new crew members in the Delta quadrant,” continued the board chair. “Two ex-Borg, which I’m sure Starfleet is already salivating over, and one human female. The human’s name is Lynne Hamilton.”

Alison’s eyes went wide. “That’s a hell of a coincidence. Are you going to tell me she’s a relation?”

“We think so,” said Elise.

“We will believe it when it’s proven,” snapped Brian.

Alison looked back and forth between the two. This appeared to be an old argument.

“Oh, come on,” said Elise. “What else could explain it? There aren’t too many humans floating around the Delta quadrant, much less humans with that name.”

“We have dealt with con artists before,” said Brian. Elise just snorted and rolled her eyes.

“That’s true,” said Charles in a conciliatory tone, “but I have to agree with Elise. The only way this could be a con is if someone has developed faster-than-warp travel with private funding, and managed to keep it a secret.”

“Nevertheless,” said Brian, “we will proceed on the assumption that she is not a relation until she proves otherwise.”

“I hate to interrupt,” said Alison, who really didn’t, “but why are you concerned with her relation to you when it’s unlikely that you’ll ever meet her? Last I heard, Voyager was almost sixty thousand light years away.”

“They’ve closed it to thirty-four thousand,” said Elise.

Alison was surprised, but with practiced ease she kept it off her face. “That’s remarkable,” she said. She couldn’t wait to talk to her aunt; the Admiral must be thrilled. Well, as close to thrilled as she got, anyway. “But they’re still over thirty years out.”

“That’s where we come in,” said Brian. “The Hamilton Foundation is altering its mission, Dr. Necheyev. As of today, our mission is focused solely on any possible technology that can bring Voyager home. New propulsion methods, spatial folds, induced wormholes—we will fund anything that is well thought out and promising.”

This time, Alison knew her astonishment was showing. The Hamilton Foundation had operated on the same mission for hundreds of years—first to get humans into space, and then to make space travel ever more efficient, safe and comfortable. To change its mission now was slightly less shocking than the Mars Base suddenly deciding to remove its dome.

“We’re changing our mission?” she said faintly. “What about the projects currently being funded?”

“We will honor our commitments through this fiscal year,” said Charles. The end of the fiscal year was only four months away. “All projects must reapply for funding beyond that.”

Alison was still trying to wrap her brain around this unbelievable development. “Okay, wait a minute,” she said, abandoning her normal professional tone. “This makes no sense. I can only assume that the Foundation is pursuing this course due to Lynne Hamilton’s presence on Voyager, correct?”

All three officers nodded.

She looked at Brian. “But you just said you plan to assume she isn’t related until she can prove otherwise. So why are you altering the Foundation’s mission if she’s assumed to be a fake?”

“We aren’t all assuming that,” muttered Elise.

“I am altering the Foundation’s mission,” said Brian, ignoring his niece, “because I was ordered to do so.”

Alison stared. “Who orders the Chair of the Foundation to do anything?”

“The founders,” he answered.

Oh, that’s helpful. Alison wondered if she’d made a mistake eating those Bajoran leftovers the night before. It was great food, but maybe the spices were affecting her brain. Because this whole meeting only made sense as a dream or hallucination.

“Brian, perhaps you should show her the PADD,” said Elise, gesturing at the wooden box resting before them.

Alison turned her attention to the box. She’d seen it upon first entering, but the conversation had quickly taken her mind right off it. Now she studied it, willing it to make sense of this very odd meeting.

Brian rested his large hands on the box. “This has been in the Hamilton family for over three hundred and fifty years,” he said. “But it was never opened until last year. The founders sealed the box in a time capsule and left explicit instructions regarding when the capsule was to be opened.

“Each time a new officer was seated on the board,” he continued, “that officer was shown the capsule, told the history of the Hamiltons, and given a letter to read. The letter was from the original founders and laid out the purpose and mission of the Foundation. We three,” he indicated Elise and Charles, “were the first to actually see the box and its contents. And you,” he leveled a stern look at Alison, “are the first person outside the family to even know of its existence. But recent events require that we bring you into this.”

He opened the lid, pulled out a PADD, and handed it to her. “Play it,” he said.

Frowning, she took the PADD and hit the playback button. Immediately the small screen was filled with the image of a striking woman, her green eyes alight and her hair pulled back in a French braid.

“Hi, Mom; hi, Dad—I sure wish I could talk to you face to face,” the woman said.

Alison watched in increasing astonishment as the woman told her story. She could only be the Lynne Hamilton the officers had mentioned, but this whole thing was just unbelievable. After several minutes of the most outrageous story Alison had ever heard, the woman on screen told her parents that she couldn’t come back home again, and the screen went blank. Alison looked up.

“Keep watching,” said Brian. “It picks up again. The PADD has been in storage for over three and a half centuries; it’s not surprising that some of the data was corrupted.”

As she turned back to the PADD, the image appeared once more.

“I have to get this to the lawyer, so I’ll say goodbye now. Once you’ve both heard this, I’m going to ask you to destroy the PADD. My friend Seven rigged it for a self-destruct. Take it outside, press the top left button three times and get yourself a good ten meters away. Please do this—it’s vitally important that this technology doesn’t get out of your hands.

“That’s about it,” the woman said, and began to cry. “God, I wish I could hug you both one last time. Consider this a long-distance hug—across both years and miles. I love you both desperately, and I am so grateful that I got to have you for parents. You’re the best. I hope you’ll be happy for me—and if you ever want to see me again, go outside at night and look up. I’m in the stars.”

The screen went blank again, and this time when Alison looked up, Brian was holding out his hand. In a daze, she gave him the PADD. Her brain was churning furiously.

“Obviously her parents didn’t destroy the PADD,” she said. “Are they the founders you mentioned?” Although she’d worked at the Foundation for six years, she’d never learned anything about how or why it was originally established. She’d been told that all early records were lost during the Third World War. Apparently that was a lie.

“Yes,” he said. “John and Elizabeth Hamilton established this Foundation in her name. They decided to do everything they could to make sure that their daughter was rescued.”

“But they already knew she was rescued,” Alison objected. “She told them in her message.”

“True,” said Brian, “but they also knew that her presence back on Earth had the possibility of altering the timeline.”

Alison shook her head. “So you’re saying that they established the Foundation for the sole purpose of ensuring the original timeline?”

“That is correct. The Foundation has always operated on the guidelines set forth by John and Elizabeth Hamilton. And now that Voyager has Ms. Hamilton aboard, those guidelines specifically instruct the Foundation’s activities to focus solely on bringing it home.” He reached into the box again and pulled out an archival unit. The sealed transparent aluminum sheets protected several pieces of paper, covered on both sides in old-fashioned longhand writing. Alison took the unit from Brian and squinted at the ancient writing. “This is a bit hard to make out,” she said.

“Here is the text.” Brian slid another PADD over to her. She activated it and scanned the text. It was a letter from John and Elizabeth Hamilton, confirming everything she had just learned. Halfway down the text column, though, she came upon something new.

We did not destroy the PADD as our daughter requested, though we have taken steps to make sure it does not pollute the timeline. In the event that Lynne returns to Earth, the PADD can be used to confirm her identity. We chose to keep it in case the enclosed DNA sample does not survive. In addition, we have included a list of questions that only Lynne would be able to answer. At the time of Lynne’s return, should her DNA be confirmed and the questions answered correctly, she will immediately receive the full balance of the trust fund. The current managerial system will be dissolved unless she chooses to continue employing fund managers. At this time, Lynne will also assume her rightful position as Chair of the Foundation Board.

In the sad event that Voyager does not return to Earth, the trust fund is to be dissolved and the funds therein transferred to the Foundation corpus. This action shall not take place until the year 2475, one hundred years after Lynne arrives aboard Voyager.

The text became legalese for several paragraphs, referred to a private letter to be given to their daughter upon her return, and then ended. Alison handed it to Brian, sat back in her chair, and looked at all three officers in turn.

“What trust fund?” she asked.

It was Charles who answered.

“The Hamiltons set up a trust fund for their daughter at the same time they set up the Foundation. The two funds started out with the same amount of money, and utilized the same investment strategies. Throughout the existence of the Foundation, one of the main duties of the three board officers has been to manage the trust fund. Each officer receives a yearly salary consisting of two and a half percent of the fund’s gains each year, so the Hamiltons built in an effective means of making sure the fund was handled carefully.”

I should say! Alison was stunned yet again—it was getting to be a positively common state of existence for her this evening. If the trust fund contained the same amount in its corpus as the Foundation, then two and a half percent of the annual gains was a salary that could buy and sell small planets. She looked at the three board officers with new eyes. These people were richer than God. And if the woman on Voyager was indeed this Lynne Hamilton, then she was richer than God ever imagined.

“I am sure you can now understand our caution,” said Brian. “The information you have learned here has been kept under strict secrecy for generations, but there is no guarantee that something hasn’t slipped out over the years. That’s why we must be so careful about imposters.”

“Yes, I can see that,” said Alison thoughtfully. “But with that PADD and the Hamiltons’ letter, I don’t see how the woman on Voyager could be anyone but the real Lynne Hamilton.”

“I agree,” said Elise. “But Uncle Brian sees conspiracy everywhere.” The elegant woman aimed a very inelegant grin in the board chair’s direction.

I’ll bet he does, thought Alison. If that really is Lynne Hamilton, he’s out of a job. And they’re all out of an income.

“I agree it is unlikely that she is not who she says she is,” said Brian. “But we cannot be too careful when dealing with this kind of money. People have lied, cheated and killed for far less.” He turned his gaze on Alison. “And now, Dr. Necheyev, we will leave you to your duties. You will begin implementing the new mission immediately, starting with a press conference. You will, of course, treat everything you have learned in this meeting with the utmost secrecy. Nothing of this must ever leave this room.”

“Hold on,” said Alison in alarm. “I can understand about the trust fund, but how do you expect me to explain this sudden shift in our mission statement without telling the truth about the Hamiltons? Do you realize the kind of enemies we’re about to make? This is a political antimatter bomb.”

The smile Brian gave her was the first she’d ever seen on his face, and she hoped it was the last. It was not in the least bit pleasant.

“That, Dr. Necheyev, is your problem. You are the public face of the Hamilton Foundation. And dealing with problems is why we hired you.”

The three officers rose. Charles tucked the box under his arm and gave Alison an apologetic smile. Elise patted her on the shoulder. A moment later, Alison sat alone in a very quiet, very empty conference room.

“Shit,” she said. “I knew I should have majored in landscape architecture.”

 

 

~ fin ~