A/N: This story is a gift for Phoenix6787, who shared some basic plot elements, which I can't share b/c of spoilers. Tough times don't last. So chin up and tallyho!
Time Enough
Chapter 1: Shockwave
Captain Janeway smiled, her head slightly tipped and a small gurgle of disgust threatening to roil in her throat. She averted her gray-blue eyes from the cold, slithering gift in her hand. She felt drops of water hit the knee of her trousers and she fought for a placid appearance.
In front of her were Captain R'hoth D'goba and Councilor Fehl Ba'tour, both representing the Mencari, a reptilian race of spacefarers. Both of them towered over Captain Janeway and her diplomatic envoys by nearly three heads. The turrets of their eyes were moving eerily independent of each other, taking in the visitors easily. Their snouts were flat and long, filled with rows of serrated teeth.
The Councilor wore billowy pants, similar to Captain D'goba's, but it shimmered with a more ornate design.
Councilor Ba'tour held out its own gift in fat, muscular hands. It gestured to Captain Janeway in encouragement, perhaps. But its facial features were remarkably absent, except for a fork tongue that slithered in and out of its massive mouth. "These are blind gormah eels," it raised its paws filled with thin, black creatures with milky eyes. "They are found in the only lake on the homeworld. To all Mencari, they represent abundance and good fortune, Captain Janeway." The Councilor dropped its wiggling, sliming creatures into a glass bowl of water. "Please, Captain," it gestured toward the bowl. "It is part of the ritual of friendship."
My pleasure, Janeway thought as she finally divested herself of the slippery creatures. The two groups of eels immediately formed a winding ball, causing the Mencari present to begin a percussive pounding of their long, powerful tails on the ground. They raised their snouts in unison, crying out a cheer before allowing their tongue to snake upward.
The Captain looked secretly at her oily hands and then around for a towel. When none was offered, she reluctantly wiped her dress trousers. These will have to be recycled at least twice, she thought.
Councilor Ba'tour adjusted a bright red sash at its shoulder. "Captain Janeway," it said, one eyes fastened on the shorter human while the other observed the Borg. "This is a auspicious omen! They are mating! The ultimate blessing to bring forth another brood. It means the Goddess blesses our friendship."
Captain Janeway allowed herself a genuine smile. "We are grateful for your friendship, Councilor Ba'tour."
"Ah, Captain," it said. "The Mencari are grateful for saving our merchant ship from the pirates."
"I am grateful as well," Captain D'goba said, his lisping more pronounced than the Councilor's.
"We owe you much here on this outpost as supplies are scarce. The hydroponics garden needed to be replenished." The Councilor allowed its tongue to vibrate uncomfortably close to the Captain, who used all of her willpower to keep her feet planted in place and her spine from tipping back.
"We were glad to help," Janeway said, focusing carefully on one of the Councilor's green eyes.
As the Captain listened to further explanations of the celebration events she followed the Councilor's other gaze to Seven of Nine. Upon beaming to the remote space station, she had been singled out for excessive, obsessive deference. She was whisked away after the commander of the outpost, Councilor Ba'tour made a formal, diplomatic request to the Captain for such honors.
Seven had been brought back to join the Captain and the rest of the crew moments before the friendship ceremony. She was wearing shimmering pantaloons much like the Councilor's but in shades of blue and aquamarine with sandaled feet. In addition, she wore a matching halter-top with her face covered by a thin, gauzy headdress. Seven's blonde hair cascaded down to bare shoulders. Her clavicle was a sharp, sleek line of fit beauty.
The Captain thought Seven looked breathtaking, though a bit mechanical in her movements in the sensuous and revealing garb. Janeway forced herself to look away. She had not felt attracted to a woman since her Starfleet Academy days. Ages ago, she thought. When she had time and the inclination to pursue a relationship. Now, she was the captain of a vessel fighting to survive on its journey home. Her responsibilities precluded such luxuries. Anyway, Seven's heart belonged to her second-in-command.
Seven had walked stiffly to the Captain surrounded by members of the command staff. She much preferred the tight, full covering of a bodysuit that she usually sported. She was grateful no one spared her any attention, except for Chakotay. He had mentioned on more than one occasion that his brief lustful gleam should be welcomed for the compliments they were. However, Seven of Nine found them intrusive and objectifying. But the Borg drone was resigned to them as part of the mating rite.
But when the Captain's eyes swept quickly over her ill-clad body, Seven felt complete naked. She was unsure if Janeway's expression carried censure or disdain, particularly when the Captain looked away. The thought of either pierced Seven to the core of her being, a place that Chakotay had never even approached. After living almost three years on Voyager under Janeway's careful study, Seven reduced her sentiment for Janeway to one of respect as a student for a favorite teacher.
Captain watched discomfort, apprehension, fury and finally fear play across Seven's face. Though she had repressed her emotions for eighteen years in the Borg Collective, they tumbled out of her, rapid and powerful like water from a crashing dam. Janeway considered that it must be disconcerting for a former Borg drone to be singled out, but Councilor Ba'tour explained that the Mencari owed a debt to the Borg. Unusual, Janeway thought. She made a note to pursue that information later.
=/\=
The ritual of friendship was long and complicated, involving many steps with only two of ten having been completed. As the Captain waited patiently for another role, she felt a breath at her ear. "Captain, you're doing great," Chakotay whispered with a wry lilt.
She smiled uncomfortably as the Councilor's eye swiveled to capture her. When it darted away, Chakotay spoke again. "It's okay, Captain," he whispered. "One of the Mencari mentioned to me they can't hear low or high frequencies."
"Next time, Commander," Janeway said with a playful tone, "you will be assuming the diplomatic duties." She brushed her own hands together for good measure.
He smiled, a dimple parading itself on his tan cheek. "That will be the time I'm treated to mystery meat that tastes just like a Kobe steak," he whispered. "It would be just your luck."
Janeway shifted on her feet, waiting for the curious Mencari eye to pivot away. "Good thing I don't believe in luck, Commander."
"See Seven?"
Janeway again waited for the questing eye to find another point of interest before she answered. "Yes, she is quite stunning."
"Thank you."
Janeway nearly whirled on the chauvinistic comment. The commander sounded so Twentieth Century sometimes. She wondered how Seven could endure the untamed sexism. Perhaps she doesn't know better, Janeway thought. Chakotay appears to be Seven's first love interest that she was aware of. Though Seven of Nine continued to individuate since being severed from the Collective more than two years ago, she continued to struggle with interpersonal relationships of all sorts. The Captain sighed quietly, shoving a basic need for companionship -- Seven's company -- way down into a dark pit, where it belonged. She turned sharply from Seven when the Councilor addressed her.
"So now, Captain Janeway," Councilor Ba'tour said in a lispy accent. "We have gifts for you, our defenders." The Councilor's head tipped side to side continuously, as if to see the Captain with both of its eyes. Janeway tried to ignore the long, flicking forked tongue as it flitted in and out of a mouth filled with pink saliva. "There is no other gift we could offer more holy, Captain Janeway of the United Federation of Planets."
The Councilor laid what Janeway believed to be translucent material across the Captain's hand. It stepped aside, allowing every Mencari on the outpost to follow suit. "These are the gifts of ourselves, Captain. The revered remnants of our most recent molting."
Chakotay tucked his chin, smiling as he scratched his forehead. He felt a nudge from Lieutenants Torres and Paris, only shaking his head in answer.
The Captain's smile was reduced to an isolated curl of her lips, as she nodded graciously as each of the Mencari aboard the space station reverently offered their own skin in homage.
=/\=
The Captain carried the heavy load of scaled skins over both arms. The room set aside for the Voyager crew's pleasure was not close to the festivities, in deference to their need for tranquility. Sauntering side to side, two honor guards escorted the Captain as she lugged the gifts, her arms quivering with exertion. Captain Janeway would have walked briskly, yet she had discovered that the Mencari were an unhurried race. Perhaps from their heft or the curious way their muscular legs moved in counter sync to the arms and head. Janeway considered they undulated, rather than marched. Perhaps they are a recently bipedal species, the scientist in Janeway mulled.
Leaving the guards at the door, a breathless Janeway entered a twenty meter by twenty meter room, lavishly decorated in silk-like fabrics in cool blue tones. Cushions littered the floor, but absent were any chairs or table. She hastily tossed the heavy load into a corner.
As the other crew members arrived, Janeway had finished a conference with Lt. Commander Tuvok. "Fine, Tuvok," she said abruptly. "Janeway out."
Ensign Harry Kim turned to take in the room. "This reminds me of that cheap hotel on Risa," he said to no one in particular. "The one with the—"
"The one with the retro neon lights and the nude bellhops," Lt. Tom Paris finished, as he and Lt. B'Elanna Torres entered the room.
"That's the one," Kim said, crossing his arms.
Torres pivoted on one foot taking in the room. "Please tell me we are not 'camping' here tonight, Captain."
The Captain unbuttoned the collar of her dress tunic. "Not unless you want to, Lieutenant," she replied dryly. "Remind me to drink an entire bottle of Romulan Ale before one of these."
"I will require an intoxicant as well, Captain," Seven said, entering the room with Chakotay at her elbow. She crossed her arms over her bare belly. "My attire is most...insufficient."
The Captain watched once again the morphing of human emotions in her beautiful face. It was such a pleasure to watch the former Borg revel in feelings, however distasteful she found them. Janeway lightly tapped Seven's cheek with her fingers. "Or you could just...adapt, Seven."
The humorous comment drew chuckles from the other members of the command crew, including Chakotay. But Seven of Nine offered only an icy stare and an arched brow, uncertain why the quip made her bristle.
The Emergency Medical Hologram, sporting his mobile emitter, materialized in the room. He looked around at the accommodations with a sardonic arch of a brow. Janeway was surprised there were no tart comments from the sarcastic doctor. But he had been known on occasion to bite them back. The Doctor flipped open a tricorder, his face transforming into childlike curiosity. "These Mencari are fascinating," he muttered as he studied the readings.
Janeway appeared over his shoulder, reading the data. "The Mencari are...single sexed?" She was usually careful to hide expressions of surprise. Starfleet captains could not indulge in the simple reaction at the risk of losing the confidence of her crew.
"Yes," the Doctor said uninterestedly. "What's more noteworthy is the lack of opposable thumbs. It completely sweeps away generations of scientific hypotheses regarding differently abled species."
"You don't find their singular gender to be noteworthy?" The Captain noted that her command staff seemed more interested in sex than thumbs, as well. Perhaps that's only natural, she thought.
"Captain," the Doctor said matter-of-factly, "there have been countless species on earth with only one sex. Some even with three."
"I believe that Species 8472 has eight," Seven noted.
"I'll bet the pick-up bars in fluidic space are pretty crowded," Paris said with a quirk to Torres, who rolled her eyes.
"You'd still have trouble rounding up a date there, Tom," B'Elanna replied sourly.
"I don't need a date," he said, pulling her shoulder close to him. "When I've got you."
"Then cut the crappy jokes. Or else."
"As the only two adults in the room were saying..." the Doctor said, nodding sharply to the Captain. "It is not the sex. The Alpha Quadrant has as many species with as many sexes as days of the week. But the truly astonishing fact remains...a sentient, reptilian species—"
"That is warp-capable," Seven noted.
"Yes, that a species such as the Mencari completely bereft of opposable thumbs have built a modern, spacefaring civilization.... It simply boggles the mind and shatters so many theories of Darwinian evolution."
"Wait a minute, doc," Chakotay said, leaning against a marble-like pillar. "Apes have thumbs and—"
"Aked frogs on Phylo Antares have opposable thumbs," Janeway noted.
The Doctor looked up sharply. "Having a thumb did not ensure evolutionary ascent," he replied arrogantly. "Its absence only precluded it."
Torres threw herself down on a few pillows she had stacked up against a wall. "I'm surprised they haven't been driven to extinction," she said, thinking of her interactions with them during the day. "They are so...docile."
Janeway pushed off the wall, a hand on her hip while the other absently rubbed her downcast head. She considered the Mencari height, yet they nearly crouched in almost submission at the site of Seven of Nine and to a lesser degree the Captain. They had avoided physical contact, even a mere shake of hands and paws. But they had abjectly and profusely apologized. "The Mencari are indeed that," she finally said. "Yet, one look at their musculature, they could send me flying a hundred meters with one swipe of a tail. So why docile?"
Janeway stopped, looking up quickly to capture Seven's eyes. "Have any Mencari ever been assimilated? Is there anything about them catalogued in that...brain of yours." Janeway had struggled to leave out "lovely."
Seven looked away, an expression that she was considering the answer. "No Mencari have ever been assimilated by the Borg Collective, Captain."
"Ever?"
"But they practically live in the Borg backyard," Tom said.
Seven pushed away from Chakotay, tiring of his hand around her bare waist. "Captain," she said, walking closer to the woman. "Not only have the Mencari never been assimilated, but every attempt to do so has...failed."
The Captain's raised eyebrow urged Seven to continue.
"Their overlapping scales prevent assimilation tubules from entering their flesh."
The Captain considered their deference to Seven. "None of this really adds up."
The Doctor snapped his tricorder closed. "Are we going to dream up wild stories about the Mencari or use empirical data to actually theorize?"
"What are you suggesting, Doctor?"
"I believe, Captain, that while the rest of you...enjoy tonight's festivities, I have been offered a grand tour of the space station by the Councilor's aide. And I believe it would be wise to take her up on the offer."
"Her?" The Captain noted.
"Yes," he replied with a bored tone. "All Mencari are she's."
"At least that we've seen here on the station?" Chakotay said.
"But how do they have babies?" Tom asked the question that no one would voice.
"Leave it to Mr. Paris to turn our attention once again to sexual reproduction," the Doctor noted distastefully. "Perhaps we will conduct a seminar about asexual reproduction on Voyager. It does exist and is quite prevalent, even on Earth." The Doctor took his leave of the Captain and dematerialized.
"Well, so they are all she's," the Captain said, with a crooked smile.
"That is not an open invitation, Mr. Paris." Commander Chakotay's chuckled when Tom shrugged his shoulders, one of which was punched by his angry sometimes-girlfriend.
"Thanks for the clarification, Commander." Tom rubbed the upper arm gingerly then turned to offer his most innocent look to Lt. Torres. "Don't worry, B'Elanna. I'm a one-Klingon man."
"Uh huh. That's what I'm afraid," she hissed as she walked away, her hands clenched to nearly white.
"Hey, what does that mean?" Tom turned to Ensign Harry Kim, gesturing to the retreating figure of Torres. "What does that mean?"
"It means, Tom," the Captain said finally, raising a hand to silence him. "You should know when to pipe down."
"Pipe down?! I haven't said anything! It was—"
"Now would be a good time to start," Captain Janeway said with a small edge.
He snapped his mouth.
The Captain looked around the room at her command staff. "We have two more hours. So let's do our best to survive this diplomatic mission."
"Despite the absence of Romulan Ale."
The Captain's head snapped to Seven after her small jest, but she and Chakotay had already turned the corner of the hall. The Borg was not usually given over to humor. But six words seemed to tickle Janeway to the tips of her toes.
=/\=
Councilor Ba'tour offered a plate of a gray, slug-like delicacy. "Captain, as my honored guest, I offer you the most sublime dish in the four worlds of the Mencari. Gallatore sumante. From my personal collection."
Janeway had been enjoying herself sampling the fine Mencari wine. All very dry vintages with a pleasant fruity taste. They had offered dishes that appeared to be pasta-like and cooked gormah eels had tasted like chicken. But Janeway had grown alarm when the delicacy began to slink across the plate, leaving a mucous-like trail behind them. Janeway gestured to Seven of Nine with her glass of wine. "Councilor Ba'tour," she replied. "We all know who the real guest of honor is. Seven of Nine, tertiary adjunct to unimatrix zero one."
Seven was unaware that the Captain had her entire Borg designation memorized. The designation of Janeway's lips were sublime, Seven thought. Until she found the plate of Gallatore sumante under her nose."
"The Captain is most gracious," Councilor Ba'tour lisped, earning an ingratiating nod from the starship captain.
Seven offered the Captain a stern look. "Yes, she is most...honorable."
Janeway looked away briefly, a light air of amusement dawning. "Councilor Ba'tour said they are simply delicious."
Seven curled a corner of her upper lip slightly when she picked one of the moving creatures from the plate with the hand covered in a Borg mesh. Slowly, she brought it to her open mouth, wondering belatedly if the creature was aware. Just as she was about to lay it on her tongue, a tinkle of Janeway's communicator signal stopped the Borg.
"EMH to Captain Janeway. Medical Emergency. Or is it an intergalactic diplomatic blunder necessitated by a medical emergency followed closely by—" Weapons blasts were heard in the background.
=/\=
Tingling of the transporter precede the appearance of four people. Captain Janeway, Seven of Nine, the doctor holding a thin, frail girl materialize on board the U.S.S. Voyager. "Captain to Tuvok," she bellowed, sparing a glance at the Doctor and human child.
"Tuvok here."
"Are all hands present and accounted for?"
"Aye, captain."
"Then get us out of here before—"
The ship shook once and twice. "Report!" she barked, holding onto the edge of the transporter control table.
"The Mencari have fired low-yield photon torpedoes. Curious. Their ships are many but ill equipped to offer us any real damage," he replied with the usual disinterest.
"You have your orders, Commander. Janeway out."
Janeway cursed the EMH, but knew he'd done the right thing. But it was not often that Voyager could manage to have and keep a race on friendly terms. Janeway turned an icy stare on the Doctor. "I want a full report, doctor." As she marched out, she yelled. "Seven, you're with me."
=/\=
"Report," she said entering the bridge.
"Captain, the Mencari have scrambled eight lightly armored ships," Ensign Kim said.
"This is not docile," she said wryly.
"They're hailing us!"
"Onscreen."
"Captain, I am Sky Marshal To'nock. I did not have the privilege of partaking the friendship ceremony. A pity at first. But now we see you for what you are. A beckoning palm without water. You have deceived us and taken what is not yours." Though it was difficult to tell one Mencari from another, this one's sash was black with a tattoo at her left shoulder of a lightning bolt. She bared her serrated teeth and allowed pink saliva to drip.
The captain stood, buying time to find a peaceful way out of an untenable situation. She was silently trying to suppress the idea of deleting the Doctor's program, no matter how gratifying the thought. She had to think, get them out of the fix the Doctor's rashness has caused them.
"Our doctor, a hologram, as you know Sky Marshall To'nock, detected the child's DNA as human. His inquiries led to altercations and...."
"We are on the brink of war because of a photonic?" The Sky Marshall waved a clawed, scaled hand and Ensign Kim's station began to beep wildly.
"Captain, they are powering up their phasers. All eight ships." In that instant, the Doctor materialized on the bridge, just out of sight of the view screen. He raised his chin arrogantly at the Captain's glacial glare.
"Send the child back immediately and your ship will be escorted safely out of Mencari space."
Captain Janeway adopted her most reasonable tones. "Sky Marshal, she is one girl. One human girl. What could possibly be so—?"
"Captain, your photonic—" The Mencari seemed to become increasingly difficult to understand as her reptilian mouth became stiff with anger. "kidnapped a Mencari. She belongs to us, regardless of any DNA similarities you have manufactured."
"Captain," the doctor said, approaching her. "If I may address this." He turned to the view screen. "I am a medical hologram, not a power tool! I don't manufacture, I observe—"
"Doctor!" the captain chided. "Get on with it."
"Anyway, I have conducted several key DNA scans, Sky Marshal. If anything is rotten on Mencar, it's your story."
The Mencari Sky Marshal shot out of her command chair, her profusive salivation spilling from her mouth. "You insult me?"
"Please, Sky Marshal," Janeway said. "He's a photonic, as you said. But, may we hear what he has found?" To the doctor under her breath, she hissed: "This better be good or you'll be reprogrammed to scrub nacelles."
The Doctor arched an eyebrow and drew his mouth into a tight line. "The child, her name being Dani...if anyone is interested...is not only 100 percent human...she is also the offspring of two Voyager crew members."
"Who, doctor?" The captain's veins were corded. Why did the EMH have to be so obtuse. If that wasn't proof of sentience, Janeway didn't know what was.
"Really, captain! You have complained about my bedside manner for years and yet you expect me to just blurt out what should be a very private moment—"
"Now, doctor. That's an order!"
"All right. Don't say I didn't warn you." He looked at Seven, still wearing her celebration outfit, and then at the Captain. "Congratulations, Seven of Nine and Captain Janeway. It's a bouncing seven-year-old girl."
To the shocked looks of the crew, including the girl's parents, the Doctor sighed. "I should have replicated some cigars. Perhaps that would have made the announcement more festive." Janeway caught the glare from Chakotay, who had been courting Seven of Nine for the past six months.
"Captain!" The Sky Marshal bellowed. "She is ours. We want...."
The captain gestured across her neck in a "cut signal" command.
"Captain!" Ensign Kim cried. "They're firing."
"Shields up."
Several blasts shook the ship. "Incoming!"
"Tom, get us the hell out of here!"
"Aye, captain."