A/n: I don't own Star Trek: Voyager, but this story is set during the episode 'Demon' S04xE24.
Chakotay hated grey mode. They hadn't had to endure these dangerously low deuterium levels more than twice before over their four year journey, which he supposed could be considered miraculous, but right now, when they were deeper into the doldrums of power deprivation than they'd ever been before, being conscious of Voyager's relative good fortune up to this point didn't make him feel any better. It only took one sorry twist of fate to wipe them off this quadrant after all. Another factor adding to his bad mood, other than the general atmosphere of anxiety, was the thought that the replicators were off-line. Not because he had a particular craving for anything, though he did hope Neelix at least served a breakfast free of leola root the next morning, but because the Captain would. Oh, she was alright for now, driven on by the search and the caffeine still in her system, but within a couple of days withdrawal would set in, and he'd rather deal with a power starved Voyager than a cold turkey Kathryn Janeway any day. At least she was still clearly delegating tasks, and he had reasons to be grateful for that, this time it was Tuvok who'd been handed the job of dragging people out of their quarters to preserve power. Not that his job for the morning, prepping the shuttle crafts and emergency escape pods for an increasingly possible evacuation, and then drawing up the lists of who was to be assigned to each little lifeboat that would be cast into the dead calm of space, was much fun either.
And then there was the necessarily dim lighting. He'd just managed to avoid several near collisions with his haggard crewmates already today. He'd had his vision corrected as a child, but in this demi-darkness he had to squint hard just to read consoles or PADDs. The resulting migraine had intensified when he'd read, with difficulty, from his console on the Bridge that Astrometrics was still running. Sometimes he wondered if Seven of Nine had deliberately designed her lab to covertly block out the comm. line from the Bridge. It seemed that if an order was good enough for her to follow, then it deserved a personal visit from him to reiterate it. Kathryn didn't have this problem with her, but then again she was faced with others from her Borg protégé, even if that was by choice.
He entered Astrometrics and found it as jarring a space as ever. Undoubtedly impressive, spectacularly so, but impressive in the daunting way a Borg Cube was. Seven certainly hadn't softened her sense of limited sense of aesthetics in the place. In fact, her own persona reflected her domain. The perfectly moulded body in the strict suit, the hair that lay like a polished helmet, everything about her was stark and focused. She was also strikingly beautiful, stunning in both the best and worst meanings of the word. No, he couldn't consider her truly beautiful in the real sense until the woman stepped out of the drone's long shadow. That wasn't going to be today. The only concession she'd made to the deuterium shortage was turning off the overhead lights, the wall of stubbornly illuminated consoles cast an eerie on her intent face as she moved from one to the other.
"What's going on here?" he demanded as he marched across the room to her.
"I'm working." Seven replied without showing the courtesy of looking up from said work. She also gave no indication of whether she was deliberately back talking or if the rhetorical nature of his opening volley had just soared over her head.
"You were ordered to shut down Astrometrics an hour ago." Chakotay reminded her tersely, dogging her steps as she shifted to yet another console until his chest nearly brushed her shoulder as he frowned at her, "We can't afford the power." She ignored him, smoothly copying information from a console into a PADD rather than replying. "Seven, it's inefficient!" he pointed out impatiently, in a state of disbelief that he had to have this particular argument with her.
Seven's brow started to furrow tiredly, with equal impatience, but she caught herself and smoothed it out before the Commander would catch the expression. Did he really think she had so simplistic a grasp of efficiency? She was Borg! "Efficiency is relative Commander." She explained as she again moved down the wall of consoles away from him, "If I shut down Astrometrics, I won't be able to scan for new fuel sources."
Again he followed her, standing right over her shoulder until she could faintly feel his breath on the back of her neck. It seemed to be an engrained convention in humanoids, that physical proximity equalled power, in this case the proximity was a pressure tool to intimidate her into conceding. Commander Chakotay was not the first to be under the mistaken impression that this tactic was effective on her. In fact, she didn't think he'd used it before now. At least his breath was inoffensive. Lieutenant Johnson had had an extreme case of halitosis before she'd informed him of it as an affected third party. The Captain had been inexplicably upset by that action, going to great lengths to explain that speaking of such an issue violated societal norms of some sort. She vaguely remembered now that the Commander had been present during that explanation; that she'd been able to see that he was struggling not to laugh had dulled the importance of that particular correction by the Captain. That instance was far from the most scandalised she'd seen Captain Janeway, she'd repeated the vital nature of modesty, and the absolute rule that she had to lock Cargo Bay Two's door when changing biosuits, after Ensign Tabor had walked in on her one morning. The Borg had no concept of modesty of course, nor did they pay any heed to nudity for that matter, but she'd understood that rule better than the former. How was Lieutenant Johnson supposed to take corrective measures in his oral health regime if no one advised him it was essential?
"I appreciate your efforts…" It appeared the Commander was changing tact, "…but we'll have to use conventional scanners until…" He was interrupted by an insistent beeping Seven recognised as emanating from the lab's central console.
She obeyed the sound immediately and looked down at the readings with Chakotay still moving directly in her wake. "Conventional scanners would not have found this."
"What?" Chakotay asked shortly, irritated.
"Highly concentrated deuterium."
"Where?" Chakotay pressed, relief burying his irritation even as he had to prompt her for more information.
"Computer, display source." Seven instructed. At once Astrometrics' screen, a stretched hemisphere, zoomed in on a small, angrily red, planet. "A planetoid 0.4 lightyears from our present position. "There are dense pockets of deuterium just below the surface."
"Maybe so." Chakotay allowed himself a regretful sigh, "But that's a Demon-class planet."
Seven turned her gaze on him fully for the first time since he'd entered, "Demon-class?" she echoed. She doubted she'd ever understand the human habit of attaching metaphorical monikers to inanimate objects, but she was more disturbed by the fact that she had no idea what he was talking about.
Chakotay gave an affirmative nod, "That's what Starfleet calls it. Also known as Class-Y." He glanced up at the screen again, "It's got a toxic atmosphere, filled with thermionic radiation. Surface temperatures are in excess of 500 kelvins. Just entering a standard orbit would be suicide."
Seven turned her head again to lock his gaze with her frank, piercing eyes. "Our situation is desperate."
"True…" Chakotay admitted.
"When faced with desperate circumstances…" Seven set her mouth into a grim line as she too looked at the screen again, her nimble fingers already dialling in scenarios as part of her mind jumped ahead of this conversation, "…we must adapt."
Chakotay studied her for a moment, rather than the screen. "I guess you'd know all about that." He said quietly.
Seven's eyes widened for a split second before she gave him a long, speculative look that mirrored exactly what he'd given her. "Yes." She answered simply.
"I'll inform the Captain of what you've found." Chakotay told her, hotfooting to more comfortable ground. He hardly waited for her nod before leaving to do just that.
A/n: Please review. :) At least one more chapter to come!