Prologue: The Game

It was like lying with a robot. Kathryn lingered above the lithe form below her, her breath grazing the heated skin, the only indication her companion felt anything at all. It was enough, she supposed, to see the flush of Seven's lips, her eyes closed, the inability to find the strength to lift them open, the involuntary stiffness of her nipples. But besides quickening shallow breaths, sometimes ragged breathing, Seven didn't make a sound. Her hips bucked to the rhythm of Kathryn's penetrating touch but her own hands never reached out toward Kathryn. Always the Captain, always above, and Kathryn had thought that out of all of them Seven would be able forget that when the lights were dimmed and they slipped between the silk sheets. Touch me, Seven she wanted to say but that would be another command and Seven would follow like a robot, cyborg, borg. Her fingers curled, Seven raised her hips, and liquid gushed, small waves lapping against the shore.

"I have to report to Engineering in one hour, Captain."

"Alright," Kathryn wiped her fingers on the blanket, turning to glance at the silent clock on her bedside dresser.

"I am... dismissed?" Seven waited, sitting up in the bed, sheets in a twisted puddle covering her waist, her breasts exposed and still flushed red. In the dim light the cybernetic implants attached to her skin glinted silver.

"You can leave whenever you want to, Seven." Kathryn kept her gaze on the clock. "You don't have to wait to be dismissed from my bed."

"Yes, Captain." Seven slid from the sheets, dry save for the tiny drops of perspiration between her breasts, coating her temple, and the wetness between her thighs. "When should I report to your bed again?" She bent down to retrieve her biosuit from the floor, opening the fabric and stepping into it one leg at a time. Kathryn turned her head and watched her.

"Seven, you're not... don't say reporting."

"What substitute would you prefer?"

"Seven, do you understand that you don't have to come to my bed? I am not ordering you to sleep with me; you can refuse my offers anytime you want. They are just offers, not orders. You're not reporting to me, you're accepting an invitation when you come and you can refuse invitations whenever you want." Kathryn searched for comprehension in her companion's eyes. "Do you understand?"

The doors closed behind her. A rush of cold air sweeping the hall, colder than space itself, the dark expanse surrounding the ship Seven was trapped on, heading toward a place everyone but her called home. Fighting off the unsteadiness, the burn between her thighs, she attempted to walk as normally as possible, nodding in polite passing at familiar faces. "Ensign," She greeted, entering the turbo lift and trying not to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. The floor to the mess hall and the Ensign walked out, smiling in parting. Seven waited calmly for the doors to close, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

She lacks comprehension.

In fact the whole situation lacked comprehension. Lying beneath the captain at least once a week, caught in her hold, tremors running through her body, everything so quiet except the thoughts that went unsaid, bursting in the air so loud and if only she and Janeway were a collective Seven could hear her thoughts and understand instinctively what she wanted.

The droop in her face, just around the mouth, her eyes dimming whenever I near her. I do not understand how she can reach for me when I do not make her happy... I do not make her happy. She is unhappy when she is with me.

The turbolift stilled and the doors opened to Engineering. Seven cast the thoughts aside and made her way toward B'Elanna's station. "You have need of my assistance, Lieutenant?"

"There's a malfunction in one of the Jefferies tubes and I can't spare anyone." Irritation laced B'Elanna's tone, eyes flickering from Seven's form to around the engine room, crewmen scurrying from one corner to the next, pads slipping from their hold as foreign data poured in, threatening to overload the system. "I've been holding it off for as long as I can. It's going to require us working in that cramped space for at least three hours and most of that is only waiting for someone to let us know if what we're doing fixes the system."

Seven nodded, hands clasped behind her back, ice blue eyes calmly surveying B'Elanna's familiar frustration. "I will assist you."

"How did this overload of data start?"

"We're not sure," Chakotay leaned to the side and handed the report to Kathryn as she took her seat on the bridge. "It started with only subtle foreign additions to the database and suddenly it exploded in engineering, apparently stemming from something located in one of the Jefferies tubes."

"And what does the data contain?" Kathryn skimmed the report, brow furrowing as she attempted to solve the problem through sheer force of will, in no mood to deal with technical difficulties, so close to arriving at port and a much needed respite from cold, black space.

"I put Harry in charge of decrypting the data. We don't know what it means, where it came from. He has a good team assembled and B'Elanna has Engineering focused on slowing down the downloads while she investigates and tries to stop it completely."

"Any other systems besides Engineering being affected?"

"Not that we've seen so far."

"Mr. Paris, how long until we reach port?"

"Only a few days, Captain."

"Take us out of warp, Lieutenant."

"Ma'am?" Tom swiveled in his chair, surprised eyes seeking Janeway's.

"I don't want us straining energy until we know exactly how this data is affecting Engineering." The dark eternity began to blur around the ship, and then stilled, Voyager continuing to press forward, dropping out of warp but still moving. "How much longer without warp?"

"We're still close. About a week, Captain."

Kathryn stood. "I'll be in my ready room, drafting a letter to any nearby ships that could help explain the situation. You have the bridge, Commander."

"They've managed to locate our little gift."

Have they disarmed it?

"No, but they've succeeded in at least slowing down the downloads. How should you like us to proceed?"

Wait awhile... wait awhile; let's see who comes crawling into the nest.

Fiddling with the tricorder, every few minutes raising it to complete scans, B'Elanna shifted uncomfortably in the cramped space, her back stiff against the wall, a hard knot growing in her neck, in her shoulders, her whole body tightening with tension. "I don't suppose you'll offer to play a game." Her voice was dry.

"Lieutenant?" Seven cocked her head, knees bent and resting on the floor, comfortable in her stiff position.

"I usually find myself caught in turbolifts or stuck somewhere bored out of my mind when Harry's around and he always suggests games to play. I pretend to be annoyed, he keeps pushing and then I get into it. It's our thing."

Seven blinked at her. "What purpose would playing a game solve?"

"It helps pass away the time."

A single blonde brow rose incredulously. "Time, as humans have defined it, passes in regular intervals broken down into centuries, decades, years, months, days, hours, minutes, seconds, nanoseconds, and cannot be sped up or slowed down by any means as simple as playing a game."

B'Elanna closed her eyes. "And yet I feel the time passing so much slower just right now."

"Perhaps you are malfunctioning."

"I must be, to think you could be normal for once."

"It is normal to deny the indisputable nature of time?"

"It's normal to play games, Seven."

"Two females. Both hybrids of some kind... klingon-human and a former borg drone, originally human."

Cold machinery melded with human imperfection and inherent insignificance. The already wild passion of humans heightened by klingon blood. How poetic... and how perfect.

"Shall we...?"

Oh yes, yes...

Tuvok, to the bridge.

"Yes?" Chakotay lowered his padd.

I've just been alerted to an unauthorized transport. It appears Lieutenant Torres and Seven of Nine have been beamed off Voyager.

"Any idea where they've been transported to?"

No. There aren't any signs of nearby ships and the nearest planet is too far away for transport. Perhaps a cloaked vessel has tailed us.

"Acknowledged." Chakotay rose quickly from the captain's seat. "Ensign, go to Red Alert. Grayson," He turned toward one of the crewmen on the bridge. "Adjust the scans to compensate for a cloaked ship as best you can." He tapped his combadge as the room flashed red and a brief alarm sounded off throughout the ship. "Captain to the bridge!"

A dark cold pocket of space, swimming in oblivion. The two women felt the simultaneous pressure in their lungs, eyes widening with the knowledge that nothing could be done. Beneath them Voyager passed, a great mass of whitish gray, and B'Elanna couldn't stop the attempted scream for help but all she inhaled was more space. Seven began to float away, her arms flailing, body contorting with the flashes of pain. Eyes began to close, burning behind the lids, and behind the curtain of death a cold voice whispered, dimly heard before eternity swallowed them up, I thought you wanted to play games.