Admiral

by SouthernMic

Takes place a few years after Endgame and my way to try and tie Janeway and Seven back together. What happens when Janeway is faced with an old enemy? Currently working on a sequel.

Chapter One

The sky bled a horrid shade of red as steel gray eyes scanned the horizon, focusing on a stark building far in the distance. It was the woman's eyes that most remembered, in all their shades of gray. Some said that they used to shine blue whenever she was pleased or happy with life. Blue hadn't graced her eyes in over four years.

Her form was petite, but trim… masking her age with ease. The red, but mostly black uniform she wore, added to the dark aura of command. A darker woman standing quietly beside the Admiral surveyed the encroaching figures below with unease. Quivering with life, the battlefield looked almost like a living, breathing creature of war.

"The Cardassians are making progress…"

"Let them… this simple taste of hope will last them for some time. This is their last chance, and they know it. Cardassia Prime itself will not survive this war."

"Why did they try? Didn't the Dominion War set them back centuries?"

Auburn hair flew wildly as the Admiral nodded, her voice dipping an octave.

"You'd be surprised at what a helpless people can do."

Turning away, the sharp eyes caught the dull glint of ships screaming towards them. A humorless, almost sad smile tugged at the Admiral's lips.

"Let's move to a safe distance Ensign. You're not going to want to see this."

With a questioning look, the dark haired woman looked up to see the approaching metallic chips of light. She followed their path slowly… watching as they paused to hover over the running swarms of soldiers. The small figures fell beneath the frenzied firing from above, the very earth crumbling… devouring them. Closing her eyes tightly, Ensign Emily Simms turned to follow the retreating form of her commanding officer.

It was agile and sleek, cutting through the perpetual night with ease. She hated the vessel, the very sight of it making her stomach turn. Voyager had been the most beautiful ship ever launched from Starfleet's shipyards. The monstrosity she now rode in disgusted her. Admiral Kathryn Janeway's crew was comprised of newly graduated cadets, all wearing fresh and open faces. She craved a real assignment, and a real chance at life to go with it.

Kathryn's elegant hands cradled the small, steaming cup of coffee as she looked quietly at the passing stars. The battle at one of the Cardassians' small, satellite colonies had made her heart quicken, reminding her of what the universe outside her small ship held. The small, detached beeping of her door made her turn from the window of her cabin. Setting aside the still painfully warm cup, she called for her guest to enter.

The door opened to reveal the diminutive Ensign Simms. Such a young, hopeful face… it reminded the Admiral of herself when she first set foot outside the Academy. And vaguely of another, not quite as innocent, but whose face was sweetly beautiful all the same. The memory made her stomach shift. She gestured the young woman into her office, letting her gaze travel openly across the gently curious face.

"Admiral, I have a few questions about… today…"

Janeway's mouth quirked in silent humor as she circled her desk to sit calmly next to the offered chair. Her compact frame rested neatly against the dully-shining surface of the table. The stance was loose, but somehow cold as well, making the younger woman all the more nervous.

"This is a learning environment, any questions you have, I'm here to answer."

The older woman's low timbre filled the small cabin as the Admiral faced the young woman. Both women suddenly aware of the emptiness of the room surrounding them.

"You want to know why we care, why the Federation is so interested in the affairs of other governments."

Rich brown eyes filled with growing confusion, either from the Admiral guessing her question or from a general sense of curiosity, Janeway wasn't sure.
"Why does the Federation always have to police the surrounding quadrants? We still have to rebuild a great deal of our own planets and shipyards due to the bombing by the Dominion and many of the battles fought on smaller colonies. Why waste so much time and energy making sure the Cardassians and Klingons play nicely? What motivates our leaders?"

Katherine smiled slowly; her dark eyes twinkled with amusement at the younger woman's ability to grasp the rather complex political concepts.

"The Klingon High Counsel."

"I don't follow, why would they care about the Cardassian leadership?"

"The Klingons, Cardassians, and Romulans used to control over seventy percent of the Alpha Quadrant before the Federation came to maturity. Many of the treaties and trade agreements they entered into became policy for the majority of the smaller races. The Cardassians have potential to someday regain their former glory, and the Klingons want to keep close tabs on the coming trend of their politics."

"There has to be more to this than that."

The older woman's smile turned humorless and cold, the gesture never reaching her pale eyes. Shifting so her booted feet landed softly on the carpet, Kathryn slid slowly away from the high desk.

"I knew you were a fast learner."

She turned, studying the ensign with a uniquely detached look. Janeway's voice dropped another husky octave as she started to circle the smaller woman.

"You're right, there's much more to this. We're using the Klingons… it's that simple. We just don't have the resources we did a decade ago, and it's going to take a little time to rebuild them. Who else would we entrust our protection to?"

The young ensign shivered slightly, the sudden cold shift in mood from her teacher putting her on edge.

"Why would we use our allies like this? Don't they object to the way their resources are used?"

"Of course they don't. What happens to the Federation affects the Klingon Empire as well… if we fall, they're next in line."

Turning slowly in her chair, the young ensign stared quietly at the streaming stars whizzing by outside the long bay windows.

"I think I finally understand."

"I've never been undercover this long, it will be difficult to keep the bleed over to a minimum."

His dark brows furrowed slightly, as if he hadn't taken the time to think of such insignificant things.

"Well, this may very well be your last mission then, see that you make it worth our time and credits."

With a soft hiss, the transmission was cut, leaving the seated woman to stare moodily at the desktop screen.

She sat back quietly, her face hard and focused. Shikare had served under Admiral Janeway for almost a year now, and knew her every move and habit. Following her to Mars would be simple… killing her would not.
Rubbing her neck shakily, she paced slowly. Pain had already started to radiate from her temples and eyes, forcing her to rely more and more heavily on the medications. Her dreams were also starting to follow her into her waking hours… a sure sign her mind was decaying rather quickly.

Walking slowly over towards her standard issue bed, the dark haired woman dug under her pillows until her fingers closed loosely over a slim hypospray. Lifting the tiny piece of plastic to her neck, dark brown eyes squeezed shut painfully as she activated the medication within its miniature head. Madness may be her fate, but she was sure to take Janeway with her.

The soft chirping of her small command console nestled inside her desk alerted the Admiral of the incoming message. Skimming the small translucent screen, Janeway's brow wrinkled with silent mirth. Flashing slowly upon her screen, scrolling in dimly lit letters was a priority one message from Starfleet Command. Swiveling her plum colored chair to better face the wrap-around desk, Kathryn's fingers skimmed expertly over the smooth touch-screen surface. Sighing low in her chest, the small auburn haired woman tapped her comm. badge impatiently.

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Ensign Jameson, set a course for Mars, warp nine." Her eyes drifted back towards the dimly glowing screen. "Looks like I'll be meeting a few old friends."

Mars Prime, Starfleet Intelligence
Two Days Later

The holographic image shifted, showing a more detailed area of the small outpost. Janeway squinted slightly as she studied the rotating model, her mind spinning countless theories even as she stood there. Several points on the three-dimensional diagram blinked slowly, catching the Admiral's eye.

"These points to the right, what do they mean?"

Admiral Lee's white head canted slightly to one side as he motioned to the display.

"These are the entry points that were used to gain access to the facility. It is impossible to get access to this thing without help. We need to know who's helping the Cardassians, and why."

"How do we know its Cardassian involvement and not something a little less sinister?"

Nodding absently at the question, Lee continued. "We've been intercepting transmissions from the station for the last few weeks, all of Cardassian origin and type. The current command seems more than a little unable to take care of the security issue. We need someone with a little more… tenacity shall we say."

Janeway smirked slightly; she was noticing a recurring theme with regards to her missions. This was starting to sound a lot like the fateful conversation she had with Starfleet Command regarding a certain Macquis captain and his crew. Another softer timbre echoed throughout the large chamber.

"We've been watching one the scientific heads of the facility closely; her former affiliation with the Borg makes a lot of people in high places worry."

Janeway's jaw twitched with barely suppressed anger; the old need to fight for Seven of Nine burning her chest. Sighing softly, she quieted the raw feeling with only the slightest of pauses.

Lee's accented voice continued seemingly without noticing Janeway's discomfort.

"You've had the most interaction and experience with this particular Borg, and we would like you to… re-establish that relationship. We need someone who can gain her trust quickly while figuring out where the intelligence leak happens to be."

Eyes still focused on the freestanding hologram, Kathryn nodded slowly.

"When do I leave?"

Sitting quietly and facing the wrap around reinforced windows, Admiral Janeway watched the trailing stars. She was going to face the one person in her life that had once been her world. Nestled away on their small and enclosed world aboard Voyager, Janeway had silently loved Seven of Nine. And for all that Seven had meant to her, she had watched as her second in command wooed the young woman. It wasn't until she met her older double that she truly felt the loss of the young Borg.

Watching her counterpart while she saved Voyager's crew and delivered them to Earth, Voyager's captain had flinched with fear. The once fierce eyes that shimmered with gray and blue, which Janeway had prided herself on, now looked dead and empty. Seven had been the one glimmer of personal hope in her life, and Kathryn had clung to it like a drowning woman.

When Seven had left snuggled in Chakotay's embrace, Janeway's heart had simply stopped then and there. She would eagerly take the promotion waiting for her, not because she wanted to forfeit a command, but because she didn't have the heart to lead a starship through the stars. What ship could she serve when coming home no longer mattered?

Turning away from the almost mesmerizing scene outside, she turned to slouch slightly in front of the replicator that dominated the adjacent wall. The gruffness of her own voice startled her slightly, the memories making her heart hurt.

"Coffee… black."

Listening to the slight whining of the wall mounted machine, the small woman pondered for long moments. Having to interact with Seven after all these years would prove more than difficult, and hiding herself behind the forever constant command mask would be pointless. Seven had always known how to push her captain, making the older woman react to almost every action taken by the young blonde. Janeway had always hated it, yet yearned for it… this time would be different.

Chapter Two

It took them only a matter of hours to reach the far-flung scientific outpost that the Federation had set up as their slipstream research facility. Janeway had taken the sparse hours to comb through personnel reports and researching updates, her mind pinpointing the most likely weak links. With PADs spread in stacked groupings across her desk, Janeway slouched slightly in her high backed chair, surveying the scrolling text and biographical pictures with veiled interest. Steel gray eyes never left her desk as she reached for her steaming cup of black coffee, her fingers nimbly gripping the scalding porcelain. Kathryn's brows knit in concentration as she finally sat back, her mind calculating.
One man in particular kept floating to the surface of her mind, her suspicions mounting the more she learned. The Assistant Director of Warp Technologies had spent thirty-eight months on Cardassia Prime working with several different Cardassian scientists individually and in researching groups. With almost no warning whatsoever he had fled both Cardassia and his research. Shortly thereafter he had been embroiled in a messy campaign designed to force the Federation into helping Cardassian civilians flee their decaying government. Two years later he was arrested for terrorist activities on one of Cardassia's many close knit colonies. Having failed in that endeavor as well, Dr. Whicter eventually settled down to pursue more fruitful labors… becoming a well respected, albeit liberal, military scientist.

Brushing her fingertips slowly over her knitted forehead, Janeway's mind flittered back to her own experience with Cardassians. Her imprisonment had gone relatively well all considered, but her uneasiness around them never ceased.

She'd have to watch Marcus Whicter closely, if only for his old acquaintances.

It was a short time later that they arrived at the low orbiting moon, Janeway's crew itching to finally dock. Rumors had been flying around the small, scout type starship as they traveled across the solar system. Many of the cadets stationed on the bridge looked on curiously as they came upon the insect looking facility.

The structure was spread out against the sky like a spider's web, the station's arms almost translucent against the backdrop of Jupiter's many moons. Silvery patches of light trailed down the main docking platform, catching the faint halo of the nearby sun. Janeway's smoke colored eyes scanned the image slowly, her chest tightening with the old excitement of command.

"Ensign, contact the station and receive our docking instructions."

Turning back to look over at the standing ops station, the Admiral's voice took on a rougher timbre.

"Hail the station and have the senior staff meet me in the main observation deck. I'll be bringing them up to speed shortly."

Turning back to face the narrow screen that wrapped itself around the low level command deck, Janeway continued to stare.

Docking had been uneventful, something of a surprise for Kathryn. She had almost expected some odd occurrence, anything out of the ordinary to explain the electric feeling of anticipation and pain. As she walked slowly along the main corroder, small numbers of the station's crew eyed her suspiciously… each stopping whatever they were doing to openly stare. Never had a primarily military officer headed a Starfleet R & D facility, and everyone was aware of the unusualness of it.
Finally entering the station's main promenade, the glassed roof displaying Jupiter's swirling sky against the metallic rafters, Kathryn caught the first glimpse of her new subordinates. Lines of parallel personnel stood at haphazard attention as Admiral Janeway entered, none of the assembled trying hard to impress their new commander.

They were almost entirely comprised of scientists and engineers, none of them holding themselves like seasoned soldiers. Every one of them had passed through the doors of the Starfleet Academy, and as such, had received much of the same training as the Admiral. Although Kathryn always prided herself on being a scientist as well as a soldier, she found it hard to find any sort of affinity with the assembled station crew. Most were in such disarray with regards to their appearance, they were almost unrecognizable as Starfleet officers.
Scanning the rows of personnel, Janeway took large notice of one particular absence… Seven of Nine was nowhere in sight. Turning slowly to face the station's previous commanding officer, her voice low and dangerous, Kathryn spoke softly.

"Where's Seven of Nine?"

She hadn't been at the main debriefing, knowing that doing so would force Janeway to come looking for her. Seven's chest tightened nervously… to hear that husky, sweet voice again. "Seven…"

She shivered.

Long fingers suddenly gripped the console, the plastic creaking softly. Would it be the same? Would her heart flutter with warmth or pain? Pain most likely. Could she still stand before her captain with resolve? Or had Chakotay bled her of that as well? A small part of her was more determined than ever to stand solidly against the fiery woman, to prove that time hadn't made her weak and neither had being on her own.

But what would she do when faced with the one thing she thought of every waking moment? Janeway even followed her into regeneration, whispering softly in her ear as she stood unconscious. She couldn't escape her even after all the distance and time she'd put between them.

She could almost hear the fast paced footfalls and the slight swishing of uniform material as the small woman's hips swayed. Will she still smell of sunshine and apples?

It was like stepping back in time, the room around her an almost identical replica of Voyager's old astrometrics department. The space was mostly circular, the display taking up more then half the area… illuminating everything with it's pale brilliance. The tall blonde stood painfully straight facing the view screen, fingers dancing over the low console table that dominated the space, her eyes never leaving the twisting patterns of light. Leaning casually against the inner part of the door, Janeway allowed herself the small indulgence of staring at Seven. Closing her eyes briefly, she could picture the young Borg that had stood so defiantly on her bridge. The contrast between then and now was heartbreaking.
Clearing her throat softly, signaling Seven's attention, the Admiral took a few strides into the room. She left several feet in between herself and Seven, not wanting to fall into the old habit of constantly being in the younger woman's space. Touching her, feeling her biosuit slip casually against her fingers. Glancing back, a silvery flash standing out against pale skin, the blonde caught a single look at the auburn hair and turned. Her face was hard, years of hurt roughening the blonde.

"You left me."

A rosette colored brow arched high, Seven's lack of preamble almost startling… almost. The outburst took Seven by surprise as well.

"What? No, you made your choice… and you chose him."

"You knew it would not last… that it was nothing more than desperation."

The slightly graying head canted to one side, eyeing the platinum head with a cool look.

"What if I did know? Would you have listened to me? Either of you?"

Seven's jaw twitched as her teeth clenched tightly. This was not what she had expected. She had hoped they would be able to pick up exactly where they had left off on Voyager. A family. Foolish she knew now.

"I didn't think so." Turning, the older woman skirted around the low-slung work bench, her fingertips absently brushed along the dull metallic surface. A small part of her mind whimpered at the association… Seven… the cool metal beneath her fingers… flinching slightly, Janeway continued.

"None of this is really all that important. What is important is that I've been assigned to command this facility, and that we'll be working together. If you have a problem with this, you may request a transfer."

"I can not afford that, all of my work is tied to this project."

"Then you'll have to learn to deal with certain things… like me."

Not bothering to look at the taller woman, Kathryn walked briskly out of the small astrometrics deck.

As she left, Seven's eyes looked far away and painful, but not without a soft smile. Apples and sunshine…

Chapter Three

"We have two Danube class runabouts retrofitted from the Delta Flyer specifications given to us by Starfleet command."

"Yes, I know… but you've been unable to channel enough power to the deflector shield to continually modify the quantum stream."

The light haired scientist's laid back demeanor carried over into his easy way of talking and had immediately attracted Janeway's liking of Arend Reed. He was young, but knowledgeable… conveying himself with a learned ease.

"We've been throwing out proposals for that little problem since the project started. The most promising involves using unmanned stations that serve as computing hubs for traveling starships. All a ship would have to do is sync up with the various stations along its course, and have them recalibrate the deflector. Granted, the ship's crew will still have to do a great deal of onboard modifications, but the hubs would make it manageable."

The two of them had been surveying the station and talking for hours about the fundamental physics behind huge chunks of the research swirling around the station. Janeway had been there for the birth of the project, most of it having taken place on board her own ship, and was intimately aware of all the founding principles. As they continued to interact, Janeway learned more of the secondary projects, most of it dealing with the mechanics of wormhole travel. Everything learned from Deep Space Nine's wormhole had been sent here, Starfleet's desire to duplicate the phenomenon taking almost as much precedence as the slipstream technology.

Janeway's interest had been sparked; her old need to understand everything around her kicking in full force. She had immediately gotten along with the scientific head of the facility, both seeing like-minded mentalities in the other. Kathryn's customary warm nature had asserted itself with a vengeance the second the familiar mantle of command had rested on her shoulders. She had missed this part of herself, the friendly warmth that everyone had always associated with both her father and herself.

As they moved along the station's various departments, meeting subsequent engineer techs and researchers, Janeway allowed the steely exterior to melt away almost completely. The last few years slipped away for the older Admiral as she walked, the almost constant tension in her shoulders easing considerably. She was starting to feel more like herself, the confidence and cockiness of youth returning easily as she settled into her new position.

It wouldn't be until late that night when Janeway entered her quarters for the first time, that her body would start to drag with exhaustion. She had grown accustomed to more suitable hours since returning to the Alpha Quadrant, her body suddenly requiring more sleep then it ever had while lost in the Delta Quadrant. Walking slowly over towards the small couch, she sank heavily into the cushions. Reaching down almost stiffly, Kathryn slipped off her Starfleet issued boots. Slipping her feet underneath her, Kathryn lounged sleepily.

Later, she would never be able to recall when her pondering turned to dreams.

"James, what do you make of this? Looks like the right antimatter intake is fluctuating… the warp drive isn't getting nearly enough power to the deflector. Bring the secondary power coupling online… we'll need to boost the particle output to start creating the slipstream."
It was early morning, and Lt. Commander James, along with his four fellow engineers were running their weekly simulations. Two standard sized holosuites had been combined to form a large section of the station that could be used for a multi-team simulation run. Several teams could work together on a single simulation, allowing for a more realistic representation of a functioning starship. Today, however, it was simply the engineering team running through the last few segments of a routine holodeck run.

Setting up the first set of calculations, the engineering team began their simulation that morning. As it had countless times before, everything ran smoothly for the first twenty minutes or so… everything in perfect running order. But it was always after this small twenty-minute window that would eventually prove to be the problem. They had yet to run a completely successful simulation, and there were always varying degrees of failure. Sometimes the warp drive would simply disintegrate, destroying the ship in theory, or the navigational controls would short out. These were both common occurrences with slipstream technology, the accompanying stress on both systems causing failures. It was the main reason the original commingling of technology aboard Voyager had been only relatively successful.

This early morning exercise would be no different in that regard. The holographic warp drive would fail, causing a massive power fluctuation. As the many systems on board the virtual bridge began to short out with excess energy coursing through them, the engineering staff was unconcerned. Sparks filled the bridge; smoke billowing from various command stations as each of the officers tried to make various modifications. Finally deciding the simulation was a no-go; Lt. James called for the computer to end the holographic program.
"Alright folks, looks like this one is a bust, let's start from the very beginning, and this time… let's keep an eye on the power couplings. Computer… end program."

The bridge continued to shake, a section of the navigational paneling flying off into the ops station. Worried now, the team tried again to stop the running holosuite. Thirteen minutes later, there was nothing left of the bridge… and nothing left of the engineering staff inside. The program, following its realistic programming, had vaporized the bridge following a warp core breach. It would be another half hour before anyone noticed the team missing… and it would take several intensive scans to even find the small residual biological components that had once been five human beings.

"They somehow disabled the safeties and deactivated the general alarm systems that are meant to warn anyone inside the holodeck that the protocols are off. There's also a visual warning that alerts anyone within that the system has been altered in some way… we've programmed the default settings to always be implemented whenever the holodeck is used. How they got in without anything that resembles authorization is beyond me… this entire section of the station is off-limits to all but a select few. The dual pressurized doors were implemented two weeks after all the odd happenings started. The only other entry point is from outside the station, but that's been deactivated since the facility came online… and it doesn't even appear on the original schematics of the station. So that's not an option."

Janeway knew better… few people would know about the original designs for the research facility, and Kathryn would pick her way through them all. Filing away that small bit of information, the Admiral continued walking through the incident with the station's security head. Later, she would have to inform Starfleet and the rest of the station crew, but for now, it was nothing more then an investigation. But as Kathryn never viewed the loss of one of her crew as a simple inquiry, she took it as an example of her inability to command or control situations around her. That 'knowledge' was always devastating, no matter the cause or instance.

Brushing her fingertips softly against her uniform leg, Admiral Janeway tried to reign in her almost vicious fighting instinct. Years of battling for her and her ship's survival had honed the skill and now she itched to use it. Quieting her nervous, adrenaline fueled body, Janeway focused once more on the gold uniform in front of her. She would need the instinct later, but for now, she would simply wait and plan.

Most of the day had passed in hurried excitement and panic throughout the station, word of the holodeck 'accident' making everyone paranoid and nervous. Skittish was the word that had continually popped into Kathryn's mind.

She had already notified Starfleet Command, and had the added displeasure of notifying the engineers' families of the incident. Janeway's list of possible saboteurs was dwindling rapidly, lending even more stress to the older woman's shoulders.

The Admiral suddenly ached painfully for Voyager, the one time in her life where although there was always a fight to survive, she never had to answer to anyone but herself. She had nestled herself deep within her Voyager family, and would yearn for it forever more. Sighing softly, she bowed her aching head down to pick up with her reading.

Kathryn had made it a point of staying as far away from Seven as humanly possible, refusing to add to the already mounting stress. But for all the hurt that would accompany her interactions with Seven, she needed the younger Borg. Clawing her way through mountains of data and old station blueprints was trying, and she was having trouble finding the time to search for information while assuring the station crew of their safety. Janeway was stuck… she would have to involve herself with Seven and soon.

Approaching the blonde would be the most troublesome of tasks; would the Borg be willing to help Janeway simply on principle? The fate of the station and whether or not Starfleet could keep a tight lid on her research affected her more then anyone else. Seven was just as invested as the Admiral, probably even more so. Kathryn was convinced she would help, if only to save her slipstream project.

The idea wounded Kathyn more then she was comfortable with. Seven was no longer doing things simply to please her; she now had her own interests and motivations. Janeway could no longer rely on Seven's almost unquestioning strength and support. Yes, they had disagreed, but both women knew that no matter what, they had each other. When had that changed? When she starting seeing Chakotay? Before? Before, Janeway realized, when she accepted the fact that she loved Seven. Loved her more than Voyager, loved her more than Starfleet. Loved her even still.

"Seven…"

Chapter Four

Diplomacy had been one thing Janeway had learned well in the Delta Quadrant; her need to keep the peace with the varying races they had come into contact with had always been paramount. She would need to tread lightly with Seven, each move and word had to be calculated with extreme care. Any false step would devastate what little progress Kathryn was trying to make, as well as putting the station in more danger then it was already. The thought of the former Borg on some random rampage brought a wry smile to the Admiral's lips, which would surely be a sight to see.

As she walked slowly towards Seven's quarters, Kathryn passed several members of the station's crew, all of whom looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and unease. Janeway knew this would be the norm for quite some time, which would kill morale given the current circumstances. The auburn haired woman longed for Voyager's halls and crew; all of which were familiar and comforting in their own way. Perhaps that's why she needed most from Seven; no, what she needed from the younger woman was much, much more.

Janeway paused outside of Seven's quarters, her growing sense of anxiety quickly eating away what little confidence she had mustered. Kathryn had known she would have to involve Seven, she had faced that fact while struggling in her ready room. Now that she was standing right outside the Borg's door, she wasn't so sure of herself. The older woman couldn't let that phase her however, time was something she certainly did not have a wealth of.

Lightly resting her hand against the adjacent wall, Janeway activated the wall mounted comm. unit nestled against the slim doorframe. Straightening her shoulders until an almost audible crack filled the hallway, she spoke softly.

"Seven… I need to speak with you." The door slid open without a word. Stomach firmly in her mouth, she entered Seven's sparse quarters.

Hands clasped neatly behind her, the tall Borg stood at command attention, angling only slightly to let the small woman pass. As she slid by, Kathryn noticed the taller woman's uniform was somewhat small for her frame, the fabric stretching tightly against youthful curves. Janeway could feel her mouth going dry already. Some things never change… god help me.

Trying valiantly to look anywhere but at Seven, Kathryn took in the limited surroundings. Nothing personal stood out in any way. No personal mementos, nothing to give any insight into the woman living there. One thing caught the Admiral's attention immediately. The space was littered, neatly, with scientific equipment and PADs, but nothing else.

Rosette colored eyebrows knitted. "Seven, where do you sleep?"

Looking somewhat surprised, she answered almost inaudibly. "I regenerate mostly. When I am required to sleep, I do so in my lab. It is more efficient." She paused to take a breath, unsure how much information the Admiral was seeking. "These quarters were assigned to me when I arrived at the station. I use them primarily for those tasks that require more concentration. I have noticed that the rest of the crew is less likely to interrupt me when I am in my quarters. I believe that they view it as… rude to do so."

"Well honestly, it's none of my business. Curiosity mostly." Janeway's lips twitched into her usual, charming half-grin. "I actually came by with a specific request in mind…"

Holding her head with tense hands, her darkly red hair spreading out to cover her face, Janeway sighed in frustration. On the one hand, she was oddly proud of Seven; the young woman had easily set aside their past to eagerly help with the on-going crisis, but the blonde's cool demeanor was taxing the older Admiral. Not a flicker of emotion had passed the cool exterior. Not a glimmer of the fire from the astromertrics lab had surfaced. Every individual on the station had been scrutinized and cataloged; every nuance of their lives had been dissected with Borg detachment. Seven had been invaluable, and while their list was considerably shorter then it had been hours before, it was still a very daunting list.

Now, well into the next morning, the Admiral was tired and hungry. Finally glancing up at the taller blonde sitting across from her, Janeway gave an internal sigh of humored disgust… Seven looked beautiful and startlingly well rested. Straightening slowly, the older woman winced slightly as her aching body creaked and groaned with stress. Somehow I've missed this…

"Thank you for your help Seven, I now have more to work with. I wasn't aware of nearly enough of what was going on with the station at large. Sometimes records can be both misleading and not nearly as informative as one would like."

As a matter of fact, they had found several crewmen who had served either on Cardassia Prime or who had had extensive dealings with Cardassians in general… something their records had never even hinted at. This entire situation was turning out to be much more complicated then she had ever imagined. There could honestly be an entire branch of Cadassian sympathizers working right here on the station, creating a unique network of information and materials. The thought nibbled at Janeway's mind, if only for the simple fact that Cardassians had always been a weak point of hers, and the thought of a silent, human army at their disposal filled her with dread.

Using that thought to fuel her, the older woman was ready to start anew… after a huge cup of steaming coffee and some breakfast. She debated asking Seven to join her; it didn't take long to make up her mind however. The Admiral wasn't quite ready for that step just yet, her pride tugging at her heart. Kathryn left a few moments later, her stomach lurching at the thought of leaving the beautiful blonde's company, but she had schooled that reaction a long time ago.

Slouching slightly in the high backed conference chair, Janeway glanced down the length of the high polished table. The faces that stared back at her were an odd mixture of barely veiled rage and curiosity… none of them showed even a glimmer of respect. Normally it would've irritated her in a very fundamental way, facing what she was on this station; she suddenly felt a glimmer of fear as well. The unfamiliar emotion put her on edge, making her body constantly pumped with adrenaline. She could face anything, knowing that she had a crew at her back… she was stripped of that assurance here.

Eyes finally resting on the one relatively friendly face in the room, Admiral Janeway silently nodded at Seven, signaling for her to begin. The irony was not lost on her, the Borg being the only ally there made her even more nervous then before. If all that she had to rely on was a woman who hated her, Kathryn was in serious trouble. She would have to put that all out of her mind, and quickly, if she was going to actually be effective.

Seven took the lead easily, outlining what had happened the morning before, as well as where the general area of the investigation was heading. Kathryn had been very explicit as to what was to be said during this briefing, refusing to give any of the guilty parties any leads. The tall, well-proportioned woman only took a few more moments to skim over the details, barely holding the seated officers' attention. Janeway was rather pleasantly surprised to find that none of them dozed off, something she almost expected. They knew she wasn't going to tell them anything new, and that this was nothing more then a formality.

Seven spoke with her usual confidence and slight condescendence, something the station had become very accustomed to. As the Borg blonde spoke to the assembled, Janeway silently watched her fellow officers with stern suspicion. None of the men and women there stood out in any way, something she would not have expected given her years of experience… finding interesting nuances about people in a short period of time was something she prided herself on.

As the exhausted scientists finally shuffled out, most of them mumbling to themselves or each other, Seven stood silently beside the brooding Admiral. Cupping her chin thoughtfully with her left hand, her eyes distant and searching, the older woman allowed her mind to pick at the facts. There were a total of seventeen different station personnel that they were looking at, all of them equally plausible.

"Seven, I need to get in touch with Captain Tuvok. I think it's about time we started putting his old security contacts to good use." The auburn woman paused a moment, weighing what little options she had.

"Compile all the data we've collected so far, I want him to investigate who we've narrowed it down to as well as what he thinks we're looking at here. He's the only man I trust who's ever spent any sort of pro-longed time dealing with… Cardassians… and be objective about it."

Turning slightly to face the oddly muted architecture of the conference room, the shorter woman's voice filled the borderline claustrophobic space.

"Thank you for your help Seven." Janeway's voice suddenly grew soft. "I know what it must have cost you."

Looking coolly at her old captain, the blonde woman's lips twitched almost into a smile.

"One day, you might find out."

It had taken almost all she had to face the older woman… to deal with the one thing in her life she would always regret and need all at the same time. Seven had fought to make her life work with Chakotay, her stubbornness asserting itself almost immediately once the relationship started. Every ounce of anger, hurt, and resentment she had towards Janeway she poured into her love for Voyager's first officer… was it any wonder that their relationship would end in disaster?

Of course, Seven could never hate Janeway. She loved her captain far too much for that emotion to ever be an option, but the young woman had grown bitter. Bitter at the idea that for all that she had accomplished in her journey into the realm of humanity, she was still lacking. Every lesson she learned at the captain's insistence brought Seven closer to being human, and pushed Kathryn farther away. The young Borg knew that no matter how she excelled as a student, she would never achieve the one thing she wanted most; her teacher.

For his part, Chakotay had tried. He had kept his word when he told the young Borg that he would not leave her once they returned to Earth, that he would do all in his power to make certain they would stay together. But try as they might, Seven could never be the woman Chakotay had hoped for… Seven would never be able to find comfort snuggled away in some traditionalist campsite watching the stars trail across the night sky.

Chakotay had found the woman of his dreams only a few short months after their return, something that would both relieve and anger Seven all the more. Leaving Earth behind, Seven of Nine threw herself at the mercy of the Federation's scientific community, knowing that somehow she could find a niche there. She easily lost herself in her work, the months bleeding together almost without notice, and finally time stopped almost completely for Seven… breakthroughs in research her only reference to the marching of years.

And now, with her life finally in some semblance of order, the one person who had started this whole maddening affair was coming back to destroy what little she had built up around herself. For all this, Seven still couldn't bring herself to feel despair for her situation; she had her captain back. And in a sense, she had all she ever wanted.

A few short hours later, Admiral Janeway found herself in the 'open-air' market that the station crew used as both a meeting place and a mess hall. Her eyes trailing slowly over the promenade, she cataloged the many differences between the research station and Deep Space Nine, the last truly functional station she had ever stepped foot on. That aging Cardassian stronghold had proven to be the last taste of Starfleet the Voyager crew would have in seven years.
The recently mandated curfew had made the station a ghost town, with every shop and outdoor café locked tight after twenty-one hundred hours. She pitied the crew, there once vibrant lifestyle and scientific atmosphere was gone… perhaps forever. Kathryn had nothing to offer them in return, nothing to show them that this was only a short respite from the tranquility they were used to. The tired woman almost prayed that she could face the killer head on and be done with it all. How could she know that she would get her half formed wish?

She continued to scan the partially lit shops as she wandered through, ambling towards her quarters with no real sense of urgency. She vaguely wondered what Seven thought of all this. Janeway couldn't imagine her idly shopping along with the station's crew, or finding the same sense of belonging that the rest of them felt while milling around the promenade. Stopping mid-stride Kathryn shook her head savagely. What did she care what Seven did with her free time? The stubborn Borg was no longer her concern, they both had seen to that. Four years didn't change or lessen the slowly simmering bitterness the admiral carried with her.

The second she had laid eyes on her older, mirror image all those years ago while they both fought to save Voyager, she knew what her future held. Every lonely minute of it was there for all to see, etched onto the tired, love hungry face of her double. She hadn't been happy with the path either of them had chosen, a life without Seven, but if one could live without her, by god they both could. She had forfeited her soul to keep the former Borg alive, and she had to admit, some days she didn't even miss it.

Chapter Five

"I've spoken with Tuvok and he has a very short list of people that he thinks could be responsible for all that has been happening on board the station."

Pausing slightly to take a small sip of her steaming coffee, she glanced up at the taller woman sitting primly at the table across from her. The older woman continued as she watched Seven closely. She simply loved watching Seven, the voyeuristic pleasure Kathryn felt was almost criminal.

"I've already spoken with the rest of the command staff, and they've decided that the best course of action is to segregate those under suspicion from the rest of the crew until Starfleet Command can sort it all out."

"What does that mean for the rest of the station personnel? Will the research continue as it did before?"

Janeway's lips quirked into a small smile, Seven definitely had a one track mind in all things it seemed.

"As soon as security has collected the suspects, life can go back to a relative normal on the station."

As normal as that can be now…

Glancing at Seven once more, Kathryn caught an interesting look being directed her way. The look made her stop, mid-gesture as the smaller woman went to fold her napkin next to her cooling bowl of soup. Seven took a short breath, her chest rising slightly against the Starfleet uniform she looked so alien in. Janeway could almost feel her mouth twitch slightly. Careful Katie. Almost smiling at herself, Janeway glanced over at the newly reopened stalls littering the promenade.
"I know you'll be eager to get back your research, Seven. I've been looking over your latest test results and research articles you've posted on Starfleet's research net… quite fascinating."

Hoping to draw the woman out a little more in terms of conversation, Kathryn's eyes swung back to face the young woman. Steel chips of blue stared back at her.

"Yes Admiral, the station has made several breakthroughs."

Janeway fought back a sigh; she had hoped that this simple, somewhat unofficial meeting would lighten the tension between them… she had been poorly mistaken.
"Well Seven, it looks like you can get back to your work without any further interruptions."

Nodding almost politely, Seven gracefully stood up from the small table, her chair scraping loudly against the duranium plated floor.
Watching Seven walk, no, almost run, for the turbo-lift made Admiral Janeway pause for the first time in her short stay aboard the station. Why had Seven cut off their conversation the second it turned from anything other then business? Shaking her head slightly, Kathryn decided that she really had no right to know… any claims she had on knowing what the other woman felt or thought had died the second Voyager had come into port.
Sipping more of her lukewarm coffee, Janeway stared off into the now bustling promenade; it looked like everyone else on the station was having a rather wonderful morning.

Emily's sweet, sickening smile never wavered; her eyes riveted to the trembling man huddled against the bulkhead inches from her face.

"You're not understanding your position properly. This isn't a request. I didn't come all the way out here to ask you nicely to help me kill Admiral Janeway. I'm telling you you're going to help me get rid of her. Now, it shouldn't be that hard… you had no problems killing the research team running advanced sims in the holodeck. What difference does it make who you kill now?"

Lt. Warren's face began to drain of all color, beads of sweat popping up along his forehead and upper lip.

"That was different. You told me that with them out of the way, I could become research lead. I've been trying to transfer into that position for years…"

"And now that you have the position, I'm asking for a little favor in return."

Warren stared down at his hands, his voice almost convincing.

"I can't. She's… her." His dark eyes were pleading. Emily almost found it attractive… the baser part of her personality itching to take advantage of the weak man.

"I have no qualms about killing you Warren. It's either you or her, make your choice."

Turning slowly, while giving the huddled man a long parting look, Emily strode slowly back to her quarters.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Admiral Janeway fought to keep both her headache and temper under control. Luckily for everyone she had coffee in hand.

"How long has Warren been missing? Rough estimate."

"I'd say since yesterday afternoon, perhaps early evening. He didn't show up for his usual dinner date with the rest of his research team. They reported him missing a few hours ago when they went looking for him in his quarters."

"He would have no reason to run, he wasn't ordered to report to the Brig." Kathryn's brow furrowed uneasily in thought.

Turning slowly to face the few assembled security members, Janeway's voice took on its normal steel of command.

"I want him found. I don't care if we have to scan every inch of this station with tricorders; I want to know where he is, and who he's with."

The security teams shuffled away, more or less eager to follow their new orders, leaving the darkly scowling woman to herself. Eager to know all she could about the missing young man, Janeway thought it best to meet with his research head… Marcus Whicter. Though she had been given a very thorough tour of the station once she had arrived, somehow Dr. Whicter had escaped her.

Her previous suspicions rising slowly to the forefront, Admiral Janeway exited the slightly cramped security headquarters in search of one Marcus Whicter.

Dr. Whicter liked to think of himself as an honest and somewhat intelligent man. His open hearted smile had charmed both his teachers and peers while at the Academy, and it wasn't until he first saw Cardassia Prime that his charm left him, escaping him completely.

He was there for one of many research missions, designed to bring the people of the Federation and the scattered masses of Cardassia Prime closer together in a twisted sense of harmony. It was at one of the numerous spatial research facilities sprinkled among the dusty landscape that Marcus found and fell in love with one of the few Cardassian women he found appealing. They carried on their somewhat forbidden romance for over three years until Cardassia's military intelligence caught wind of the affair.

The raw panic that overtook him as three armed Cardassian guards stormed his lab was enough to make him double over with nausea. Watching with mute horror, they hurriedly collected the one person Marcus had found comfort in. Minutes later, finally able to shake himself roughly free of his paralysis, Whicter realized he had to move quickly; Cardassians were not known for their pity or their ability to be moved emotionally.

Marcus spent every waking hour for the next three months petitioning for the young woman's release… begging the Federation to intervene in what he perceived as gross abuse of civility and justice. It never occurred to him that his government would be willing to sacrifice his feelings and a lone Cardassian citizen for peace. What was the life of one, when it effected the lives of countless others?

Dr. Whicter would be notified shortly after his last written appeal, some ninety-two days after her arrest, that Salia had died only two weeks after her capture. It was then and there that he became one of the most destructive terrorists against the Federation ever imagined. For the next decade he leaked countless bits of information to the Cardassian and Romulan Empires. With each passing year he grew more tired of the game… his resolve slowly starting to crumble with each passing encounter with his fellow anarchists.

The Dominion War had been his final test of resolve, and he had failed. Watching countless Starfleet officers and civilians murdered and mutilated at the hands of Cardassian soldiers, he realized that he had been fighting the wrong battles. But his past would never leave him and would never let him rest.

Somehow armed with this knowledge, Emily Simms would blackmail Whicter into submission the second she arrived. It was what brought her to his office the night her cadet ship docked, her dangerously arousing smile charming and frightening the older man.

Lounging easily in one of his many high backed conference chairs, Ensign Simms had eyed the dark haired man with interest. His love had helped the Cardassians turn him against his own, and she would use it to turn him against his new commanding officer.

"What do you know about your new CO Dr. Whicter?"

"Nothing much, but her reputation definitely proceeds her. Why? No, wait, let me guess, you're going to kill her. To prove that the Cardassians can attack wherever and whenever they want." The bearded doctor rolled his eyes dramatically. "Please. The Cardassians are done for, and everyone knows it. You could scatter this station to Jupiter's four winds and no one would give a shit."

Emily's eyebrow disappeared into her hairline, the expression a mixture of humor and frustration. "The station doesn't concern me. Terrorist acts prove a point and instill fear… assassinations bring about change."

Marcus shifted uncomfortably; the loss of life was always something he had trouble with.
"But why? She's nothing more then a cultural icon. She's brought hope to a faltering republic, nothing more."

The smile had returned, her eyes gleaming. "Precisely. What better way to get the Federation's attention? Red has always been her best color. And I want to see it covering the walls of this station."

Idly running her fingers along the curve of the desk, her voice nonchalant. "Would it help you to know her father helped broker the old Cardassian peace treaty?"

"Not really."

"It will."

This was the second time today she was close to losing her temper.

She had barely cleared the door and something deep inside her gut screamed with tension. Without any warning Marcus was on her, his body crowding her between the door and the desk. Hard muscles pressed her painfully against the sharply contoured furniture.

Marcus' lips peeled back in a sneer, his arm reaching back to strike out at the smaller woman. Kathryn's hand whipped out suddenly, the butt of her phaser connecting solidly with the underside of the doctor's chin. His knees buckled, his body collapsing with a thud over onto the wooden tabletop. She eyed him with grim satisfaction. Just like any other rat backed into a corner.

"Now that I have your attention Dr. Whicter…"

Admiral Janeway stood planted firmly in front of the newly dented desk, her barely contained rage radiating through the bulkheads. Her body hunched dangerously, one regal hand propped loosely on her hip.

"I did it for her. You and your kind simply wrote her off… you let the Cardassian government do whatever the hell it was that they wanted, just to bribe them for a little more peace."

Marcus looked dejected and more then a little sad… sad for his future and even more so for his past.

"That doesn't concern me, what concerns me is the danger you've put this station in, not to mention the Federation at large! I have half a mind to blow you out the airlock myself… but I get the sense that your conspirators would like that a little too much." Janeway suddenly smiled, her face showing too many teeth and too much anger.

"And I wouldn't want to give them anything they want."

"Not sure exactly what was done to him, but his neural pathway readings look like someone hardboiled his brain."

The chief medical officer's accent crawled slowly along as she spoke to the stiffly postured Admiral. She was a few inches taller than the Admiral, but where Janeway was pale, Dr. Joana Andrews sported a rich olive complexion. Years in space hadn't diminished the Mediterranean coloring in the slightest.

"All I can tell you is that there's not a whole lot left to save. We'll be lucky if we can recover any sort of cognitive function when all is said and done."

The smaller woman's face was tight, her voice husky with quiet anger. "You're telling me he was forced? He didn't do any of this willingly?"

"Not necessarily. He may have started off willing, but at some point whomever he was working with decided to push him, as it were. It looks as if some sort of neural re-sequencer was used to strip away his willpower. These types of tools have been used for centuries; although most civilizes societies have outlawed them."

Turning away, Janeway's jaw tightened painfully. She paused suddenly. "These tools, are there more then one type?"

"Of course, they each do something pretty specific. Why?"

"Can we trace which kind was used?"

Dr. Andrews forehead wrinkled slightly. "I couldn't, but I could forward my findings to Starfleet Intelligence… not sure how useful this all will be."
"Forward your findings. I want to know everything they can tell me, as soon as possible."

Her face still wrinkled in confusion, CMO nodded absently. "I'll have it to them by the end of Beta shift."

Chapter Six

Sitting quietly in her quarters, stomach rolling uneasily, Janeway perused the initial findings that Captain Tuvok had transferred to her personal workstation. He had promised to have a face-to-face videoconference whenever time permitted, but the wait was fraying the normally calm Admiral. Re-crossing her legs, the gracefully aging women re-read her friend's findings.

Based on the information you have sent, I have edited the list of possible suspects. One person that should be looked at in particular is Ensign Emily Rebecca Simms. Her whereabouts during the final stages of the Dominion War cannot be accounted for. Ensign Simms was captured, with her family, during an evacuation of Tunis VII near the Cardassian border. She was the only survivor of a transport that consisted of three hundred Federation citizens. Although she was given an extensive medical and psychological profile once she entered the Academy, she has still been under observation by Starfleet Command.

Ensign Simms has served on several assignments, and all of her commanding officers have requested transfers within the first six months of service. She has been described as a serious disturbance in every instance. She has been put on notice for fighting with her peers, and disrespecting her superior officers. Ensign Simms is considered an administrative burden as well as a security risk.

Kathryn tapped her chin thoughtfully with the blinking PADD, trying to see the same woman described by her file, and then the person she had served with. Janeway had known something of Simms' past from her entry records at the Academy, but Kathryn had never had a problem with the ensign's performance or behavior. It was almost as if two separate people were living a single life. The thought made Janeway wonder… how could the same person be portrayed so differently?

Dr. Whicter had also decided to be oddly silent. After hours of questioning, he refused to even discuss the recent events with the command staff. His unwillingness to help gnawed at Kathryn. If a covert terrorist cell could woo someone of Dr. Whicter's importance, others could have been just as easily seduced. With the clout of a commanding officer, dozens of sub-ordinates could be coerced into assisting whatever entity was to blame.

She had to follow every lead. Fight and claw her way to whatever end this had in store for her. Kathryn felt her face pull stiffly into a small smile. Wasn't this the type of thing she had been missing? The fight? And fight she would.

Nodding silently to herself, the Admiral decided that perhaps a long chat with the young Ensign Simms would be needed. Janeway needed to get as many people cleared of suspicion as possible, and clearing Emily would put the older woman at ease. Standing, tugging absently at her slightly wrinkled uniform front, the petite woman exited her new station quarters with equal parts resolve and wariness. The benign science station was turning out to be anything but.

It was the ease in which she walked that always made Seven stop and study her. The blonde could remember, very vividly thanks to her Borg enhancements, watching her captain stride through Voyager's hallways, confident and secure in the knowledge that not only did she know every inch of her ship, but was also in complete command of it. It wasn't the power of her command that Seven was attracted to… she had had her fill of power as part of the Borg. No, it was something deeper, stronger, and brighter then anything she had ever experienced while amongst the collective.

Wanting Kathryn seemed almost instinctual at those moments, those moments where the entire ship seemed to comprise only of her Captain and Voyager. She would sometimes walk with Janeway on these long, midnight strolls. Never saying a word, never so much as hinting at the love and sorrow that warred with one another inside her… simply basking in the companionable silence.

She didn't fully understand her need to watch Janeway prowl the station's halls, or the desire to peek in at the admiral during her usual late night jaunts. This particular past time had enthralled the young blonde during her stint aboard Voyager, filling her with voyeuristic wanting. She found herself picking up the old habit almost without realizing it. Ignoring regeneration almost completely, Seven had taken to trailing Janeway around the station like a wandering ghost. Apples and sunshine…

Lost in her musings, something quite unlike the tall blonde, she didn't catch Janeway's slender figure duck back behind a bulkhead a few scant feet in front of her. Turning the corner breezily, she barely missed the phaser butt aimed squarely for her head. Looking down, her eyes large against the backdrop of creamy pale skin; Seven's face was tight.

"Seven!" Breathing hard, Kathryn's arm slowly inched back towards her side. Tense and eerily still, her voice dropped to a rough, silky octave.

"Mind telling me why you've been following me half the evening?" Janeway's jaw twitched, while her eyes filled with something… else.
Seven scrambled mutely for a moment. How could she articulate her need?

"I have been, in fact, following you all evening. I felt it… unwise to leave you alone wandering the station at night. You have stated before to the station crew that no one is to travel without accompaniment… would it not be wise to follow your own orders?"

A golden brow lifted in challenge. Would the Admiral take the bait, or wave her off?

Janeway smirked, dipping her head silently in acknowledgement. "I can't fault your logic Seven." The smaller woman turned, waiting for the former Borg to follow. They settled easily into step, their walk eerily quiet. A few moments later, they were standing outside Ensign Simms temporary quarters. If Seven thought the destination odd, she made no comment. She was content to merely follow.

Seven reached the inter-station communicator mounted on the wall first; her Borg enhanced hand brushing the intercom system.

The tall woman's ocular implant registered the power surge before either one saw the comm. system panel starting to overload. Almost without thinking, Seven's human hand shoved Kathryn roughly aside, her Borg hand moving to cover the exploding panel completely.

The resulting explosion was bright with power, everything around it bursting outward with sudden violence. Shards of plating liberally littered Seven's left side, her body having been propelled against Janeway and onto the floor with more force then either thought possible. The taller blonde ended up on top, bloodied and bruised. Both women froze, neither sure what to do, or how dramatic the surrounding damage would be. Realizing that the Borg must've taken the brunt of the explosion, Janeway sat up slowly, taking Seven up with her.

Seven's breath came in short bursts, her teeth clenching rhythmically. She could feel the implants along her arm and side tingle painfully, the nanoprobes littering her bloodstream working hard to repair the damage. Her side hurt the most; duranium shards having worked their way between delicate bones and into her lungs.

Janeway's hand was clamped down onto her shoulder, stormy gray eyes hard against her suddenly pale face. "Seven…" Janeway gentled her voice with effort, her fingertips brushing the suddenly damp hair from the younger Borg's forehead.

"Seven, I need you to let go of me for a moment, I have to reach my comm. badge." Glancing down, the shaking woman realized she had both hands tangled roughly with the Admiral's uniform tunic. It took more then a little effort to unclench her hands, her arms screaming with the effort.

"C&C, this is Admiral Janeway. I need a medical and security team on level 3, section 19. Now!"

Raising trembling hands, Janeway cupped Seven's face gently. "You're going to be fine…. I won't let anything happen to you."

The blonde woman smiled weakly as she started to fade, her hands once again clutching the small woman desperately.

"We have to stop meeting this way Admiral." The small CMO's lopsided grin would have been charming if not for Kathryn's barely controlled panic reeking havoc on her demeanor.

"Doctor, now may not be best time to make light of the situation." Kathryn's voice was steely and low.

"Are you sure you have the necessary technical skills to take care of someone with Seven's unique needs?"

The darkly colored doctor paused. She was going to try and ignore the Admiral's tone.

"Yes. I've been treating Seven for the past three years. And I've chatted rather extensively with your rather eccentric holographic doctor friend."

Janeway harrumphed in response and turned her attention back to the now unconscious Seven. Without realizing it, she started petting the prone woman's hair. The touch settled the older woman, making her jack hammering heart quiet minutely. Janeway's voice took on an absent minded quality, her focus trained completely on the Borg.
"She's needed Doctor. I… we can't let anything happen to her."
The Doctor's look was curious, yet understanding. "I'll do whatever I can Admiral. But I'm also going to have to ask you to leave. We need to help the repair process along and I can't do that with you hovering."
Looking up finally, Kathryn nodded slightly and turned to leave. Catching her arm loosely, the Doctor's voice was suddenly quiet.
"I'll contact you the second we're done. She'll be fine Admiral. I promise."
Janeway's half smirk was somehow threatening as well as encouraging.

"I'm going to hold you to that."

Worry radiated off her in waves. She'd been sitting in her Ready Room for more than three hours fussing over everything she could get her hands on. Various, mundane station reports still needed to be attended to, crisis or no. She was moderately grateful for the routine; it was helping her do something besides agonize over Seven.

With her hands busy with station summaries, the Admiral's thoughts jumbled loosely over the trap they had stumbled upon outside of Simms' quarters. The Ensign's guilt was solidifying hotly in her mind, making Kathryn twist uncomfortably. She had worked with this woman, had taken a personal interest in her. Janeway had been on her way to making the young woman one of her many 'pet projects'.

And she had brought her here. The Admiral had ferried what was turning out to be one of the main conspirators. Pinching the bridge of her nose sharply, Kathryn fought her mounting headache. Her ability to blindly trust others might cost her the one thing in the world she couldn't afford to lose. Seven… what would we have been if I hadn't been such a coward?

The laptop-like console sitting slightly off to her right chirped softly, indicating an incoming message. Reaching over quickly, Janeway tapped the accept button impatiently. The station's CMO filled the tiny screen.
"Admiral, I've received the initial findings from Starfleet Intelligence. It looks as though the trace signatures left behind on Dr. Whicter were put there by a device commonly used by the Jem'Hadar. They haven't come into too much contact with personality altering like this since the war, but they want us to go ahead and ship the good doctor to them at our first opportunity."

Janeway's eye narrowed in thought. Her mind already filing the information away, her chest tightened in a tight band of stress.
"That'll have to wait for now. In the meantime, keep him sedated and under strict security measures." Janeway paused to take a fortifying gulp of coffee; her jangled nerves needing the caffeine infusion. "What is Seven's status?"

At that, Dr. Andrews brightened marginally. "She'll be back on her feet by tomorrow. She's regenerating, and her nanoprobes appear to be repairing any residual organic tissue damage. The cybernetic implants in her arm and hand took some work, but they're as good as new." Kathryn released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Nodding at the screen in relief, she cut the connection while thanking the doctor.

Sitting back in her chair, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her steaming mug, Janeway allowed her mind to wander. Why would a single, or series, of Cardassian agents be so interested in an aging research station? The technology currently being developed there weren't even in the production stage yet. And extreme deep space travel would serve no real, immediate, military benefit. So why the interest?

What if it's not a point of stealing technology, but merely an act of… fear?

And what better way to make a terrorist's point? By destroying a space station deep within Earth's solar system, they were proving to the Federation that nothing was safe. Not even something so perilously close to Starfleet Command.

But where did Emily Simms fit into all this? She had no way of knowing Admiral Janeway would be pulled from her Academy training stint to go curtail a possible espionage scenario. Which would mean that Simms was after something completely different; something separate and singular to Janeway and her cadet crew.

But what?

Chapter 7

His hands were shaking. All he could think about were the number of crewmates he was probably going to kill tonight. He had made it into Engineering easily enough, but now he had to screw up the courage to actually plant the explosives Emily had given him. What made her think that he would succeed where she had failed? But now, squirreled away in one of the various nooks and crannies littered liberally throughout the facility, he paused. He had served with many of these people for years, and while he had had little to no qualms killing his research team, this was different.

He had fought continuously with James, the team lead. He was an arrogant ass who refused to even acknowledge Warren's numerous contributions. And when promotions had been doled out, his had been frustratingly absent. James had labeled him a troublemaker, someone who refused to work in a team setting.

And where are you now you little bastard?

Warren's smile was savage. He loved the thought of it. Him, killing the one person in the universe he hated with every molecule in him. His only regret was not being able to see James vaporize. Did he scream when the realization had hit? Oh, to see those last torturous seconds would have been delicious.

But this was different. He had known some of these people since his Academy days. He knew their families. These were his friends. But Emily had made it clear; it was either them or him. Forcing his hands to settle, he attached the small, adhering box to one of the main support pillars within Engineering.

Only two more to go.

"Regeneration cycle complete."

Eyes snapping open, Seven of Nine stepped down from her eerily lit alcove nestled quietly inside her sparsely filled lab. There, standing quietly, her face unreadable stood Admiral Janeway. For a moment Seven was disoriented. It was just like being back on Voyager, the captain standing there waiting for her to wake. But where her captain had always had that soft look of kindness, this admiral only had a hard look of resolve.

"I wanted to thank you. For yesterday."

Coming to stand directly in front of the smaller woman, Seven clasped her hands behind her back at parade attention.

"I was merely saving the life of a fellow crewmember. I believe it was you who once said that sometimes one must consider self sacrifice for the well being of others."

Dipping her head, Janeway acknowledged the comment. "I did. But that doesn't mean I appreciate the sacrifice any less." Stepping closer, Kathryn looked up sadly into Seven's curious eyes. "I wish things were different. I wish I had been a better friend."

Seven tilted her head slightly to look closer into Janeway's unnaturally still features. "I believe you. What would you have us do then? Try to rebuild something you let fall away?"

Kathryn flinched slightly. "I didn't think you wanted, or needed, my friendship any more. You had Chakotay."

"Unacceptable. Given the fact that besides you, I had little to no one to call my friend, I would need you all the more once we reached Earth. I find your reasoning dishonest."

The Admiral sighed. "You're right. My reasoning is dishonest, but… my reasons are my own. I didn't want to hurt you Seven, or hurt what you and Chakotay were trying to build together. Can you understand that?"

Reaching up, she placed a gentle hand on the Borg's arm. "And now I want to be that friend that I should've been from the beginning. I'm not asking for us to pick up where we left off, I'm just asking for your patience, and to some extent, your forgiveness."

Turning to look at Janeway's resting hand, Seven answered in a whisper. "You have always had both. You had only to ask for it."

Closing her eyes, Janeway sighed softly. "Thank you Seven. I don't deserve it, but thank you." Opening her eyes, Kathryn suddenly realized how close she was to Seven. The old habit of unintentionally crowding the young woman's personal space seemed to have reasserted itself rather easily. Starting to release Seven's arm, the admiral moved to take a step back, only to be stopped by a Borg hand reaching up to tightly hold the admiral's hand in place. "Wait…" Seven's whisper was almost inaudible.

Janeway froze, unsure. Swallowing thickly, she took a step closer. Wrapping her free arm around the Borg's slim waist, Janeway hugged her loosely. The smaller woman ached to rest her head against the rough material of Seven's shoulder, but didn't dare. After several seconds, Kathryn felt Seven hug her back just as loosely, both afraid to break whatever spell had taken hold of them.

The shuddering beneath their feet was, at first, their only indication that something was wrong. Stepping apart quickly, trading somewhat embarrassed smiles, Janeway tapped her comm. badge.

"C and C, report!"

Engineering was in chaos. Technicians scrambled for the interlocking doors, while officers trampled their subordinates underfoot in an effort to flee. Lt. Warren gaped in horror. The explosions had punched a hole the size of a football field in main engineering. Bodies and debris were pouring out into space along with the terrified cries of his comrades. Warren started counting, waiting for emergency force fields to snap into place, restoring the bleeding atmosphere.

He reached thirty when he truly started to panic. Glancing around frantically, he looked desperately for any sort of manual control for the absent emergency measures. His specialty wasn't engineering, or even power management, and his search was quickly turning useless. Reaching out blindly, he snatched at one of the retreating personnel.
"Wait, where are the force fields?"

The young ensign's face was just as wild as Warren's own.

"Get off me!" Shoving roughly, the young man spun away careening wildly for the exit.

Turning back to face the mayhem, his breath caught. He had done this. Not Emily. Not the Cardassians who were helping her. Him. Swinging back around to face the doors, he bolted with the rest hoping to outrun the guilt that followed.

Janeway brushed aside the gathering personnel. The main entryway into engineering had been shut in order to preserve atmospheric pressure within the rest of the section, leaving those inside trapped. As she crouched down to examine the status panel outside main engineering's twin doors, Janeway felt a steady hand grab her shoulder. The station's painfully young Chief Engineer squatted down beside her, his face grimy but focused.

"Emergency force fields finally kicked in, but there are huge fluctuations in the current and we can't guarantee how long those will stay up. We're going to de-pressurize that entire area and repair the station segment with space suits. Otherwise we're just hemorrhaging air."

"What about those still inside?"

Pointing up to the four foot thick doors directly in front of them, he answered shortly.
"These close the second a drop in pressure is detected. Only way to get them back open is if we either plug the hole, or cut through. It's a kick-back feature, which is what happens when you use a station over eighty years old."
Janeway's lips quirked in quiet humor… he was a mouthy young man. Just like Paris.

"Noted. Get these people out of here, I want this entire wing evacuated and funneled to other parts of the station. I also want anyone who can wield a spanner down here making repairs. I don't care where you have to pull them, get them down here."

Turning from the already moving man, Kathryn looked uneasily at Seven.

"I can't leave those people inside."
A blonde eyebrow quirked knowingly. "I had already assumed as much and while you were speaking with Commander Collins, I was establishing an alternate route inside."

"What would I do without you Seven?"

"One never knows Admiral."

Admiral Janeway was starting to think that perhaps the fates were conspiring against her. Sweat beaded heavily against her face, her uniform clung damply to every part of her body, rendering movement difficult. She, Seven, and six engineers were currently crammed into a small maintenance shaft that ran parallel to main engineering. It was obvious that a fire had broken out inside the adjacent area as the tunnel's ambient temperature was continuing to rise, giving Kathryn the uneasy feeling of being roasted alive.

Finally reaching the interlocking doors that would allow them access into the damaged wing, Kathryn reached forward tentatively. Searing hot metal greeted her questing fingers, causing the admiral to jerk her hand back with a hiss of pain. Turning, the small woman started to work feverishly on the panel situated next to the door, her fingers flying over the safety readouts.

"Emergency sealants have been placed on all the entries into Engineering due to fires and low oxygen readings. Fire containment force fields are offline. Structural integrity force fields are functioning at thirty percent." She turned to the huddled Borg who was immediately at her shoulder.

"We won't be able to get these doors open with the emergency locks in place, we'll have to force it or figure out a way to bypass them."

Without saying a word, Seven drew back and slammed her cyberneticaly enhanced fist into the foot thick doors. They crumpled outward with a screech, the seal cracking enough for Seven's slim fingers to pull them open completely. The Borg's lanky body slithered uneasily through the small opening, while Janeway's compact frame took the obstacle with ease.

While the remaining crewmembers scurried into Engineering, the two officers took stock of the surrounding devastation. The surprisingly huge hole that took up the majority of the room gave those assembled a picturesque view of the stars, while the randomly placed fires threw stark shadows over the cavernous space. Dangling power conduits sent sparks dribbling down onto the grated floor, accompanied by the hiss of escaping coolant.

Snapping open their tricorders, the rescue team began scanning for survivors, while keeping a weary eye on the surrounding damage. Calling out to the rest, one of the engineers signaled a possible life sign, the others scrambling to join in on digging through the rubble. While the rest pawed at the various bits of debris, Seven and Janeway stood monitoring the structure around them.

A triumphant yell from the searchers made Kathryn smile slightly. At least they had found someone; this wasn't going to be a waste after all.

"Admiral, I am reading a sudden drop in system stability. I suggest retreating back through…" Seven's sentence was cut off abruptly, the force fields failing with a crackle of static.

And things were going so well… Janeway thought acidly.

The room screamed as the atmosphere rushed out into space, ripping the nine of them off their feet and into the air. Seven shot past the twin pillars of duranium that held up the second story of Engineering, her Borg hand striking and gripping the closest. Janeway slammed squarely into the blonde's chest seconds later, the two bodies clinging desperately to each other. The lieutenant closest to the ruined walls nicked the long shards, bits of her uniform and flesh flaking away as she was thrown into space.

Gasping for what little air she could manage, Janeway looked behind them in search of the manual controls. Squinting, she spotted them only a meter and a half directly behind them. Taking another labored breath; Kathryn looked across at Seven's oddly panicked face. Trying to smile reassuringly, the Admiral let go of Seven's human hand. The sudden grip of vacuum took her body hungrily, throwing Janeway solidly into the squat podium. Grunting, the small woman rolled with the escaping air to face the control's flashing surface. Stretching out long against the panel, her fingers frantically moved across its surface.

The faintly mechanical voice of the computer chirped loudly signaling that the emergency force fields were finally back in place. With a sudden snap of atmosphere, the remaining eight officers crumpled haphazardly to the ground. Still hunched over the small beeping array, Janeway growled low in her chest.

"I think it's time we dig a little… deeper."

Small, delicate hands batted at the med tech's larger ones, the motion impatient and short.
"I'm fine! I need to get back to C & C… where is the security chief?"

Janeway's eyes were bright and impatient; darting rapidly to take in various members of the station staff huddled uncertainly beside her bio bed. Blood still stood heavy and wet against her face and tunic, her nose crumpled and broken. The floundering med tech tried to steady the stubborn admiral long enough to run a bone knitter over the older woman's shattered nose. The head injury had already been addressed, while her three broken ribs were being poked and knitted by the station's CMO.

"Need I remind you Admiral that unless you sit still, you're going to suddenly be a very unattractive woman."

Exasperated and clenching her jaw, Janeway fought to stay still. Her latest adrenaline rush was making her borderline hyperactive, her body needing to burn off as much energy as possible.

Turning away as the tech finally started repairing her broken nose; Kathryn tried desperately to find Seven. The woman had quickly scooped her up in the cargo bay, all but running full tilt for sickbay, cradling the precious bundle close to her chest. Panic was written clearly over all her movements and expression. Every gesture was overly protective and gentle.

The second they entered sickbay, Seven's demeanor had changed completely. After depositing the Admiral on a nearby bio bed, the Borg had distanced herself immediately while her face turned blank in an instant. Janeway had found the shift confusing and unsettling.

And now the young woman was nowhere to be found.

Walking almost calmly from the station's infirmary, Seven tried hard to control her breathing. She had to make it to her quarters, had to make it at least that far before she allowed herself to break. One of the many open framed turbo lifts suddenly came into sight, the tall blonde almost gasping in relief. As she lifted one of her shaking hands to summon the hulking piece of transportation, the Borg finally saw the blood caking slowly on her fingers and palm.

The sight made Seven's stomach curdle, her whole body clenching to keep her suddenly volatile gut in check. It wasn't the sight of blood that made Seven's stomach clench unpleasantly, it was the fact that Kathryn had bled it so easily. Sliding gracelessly into the turbolift, Seven keyed in the destination mechanically, all the while fighting to keep her heart from bursting through her stiff uniform.

She needed her now… needed Kathryn with everything in her. Seven had hoped that all these years tucked away from the small woman would slowly tear away that need. She had been wrong, like she had been wrong about so many things regarding her old captain. Like her ability to forgive the woman after all of these years of neglect. She had kept her anger close, using it to survive while hiding away from the universe at large. Now she didn't even have that.

Seven could see her cabin come careening into view. Her breath was coming in short gasps, her steps faltering the closer she got to her living quarters. She collapsed the second she cleared the doors. Sobbing painfully, Seven rocked slowly as she hugged herself tightly against the emotions she was so unaccustomed to.

She was grinding her teeth. She absolutely hated it when her frustration telegraphed itself this way. But wasn't this so stereotypical of her interactions with Seven? One of them usually ended up frustrated… and it was almost always Janeway. No matter how much she steeled herself for the inevitable, the young woman dug in like some burrowing insect.

A part of her wanted to simply stomp back to C & C and be done with it, but another part of her, the part of her that always seemed to rear it's ugly head when she was on Voyager, refused to let Seven go without an explanation. So here she was, marching herself to the Borg's quarters, ready to demand why the woman had disappeared the second they had gotten to Sickbay.

What difference does it make? Seven's her own person, answerable only to herself. What right do I have to force an explanation of her behavior?

Because she needed one. Needed to know why Seven had left her. She cared enough to bleed for her, but not enough to stay with her.

Standing in front of Seven's door, Kathryn's justifiable anger suddenly fled. Devoid of her crutch, she stood there staring blankly at the matte gray plastic. Leaning forward, she rested her head lightly against the door, her hand reaching up to lightly caress the cool material. Janeway's eyes suddenly filled with tears, but they refused to fall.

Every day I wish for something different, for some instant in my past to rewrite itself and to wake up the next morning with you beside me. Every single moment I replay those last few seconds we had together. The confusion in your voice when I told you to be happy and drop me a line whenever you had the time. The hurt in your eyes when you finally figured out I wasn't coming with you and I would never be there. But just for a second, I thought you might have missed me as much as I've missed you, needed me as much as I've needed you.

Lifting her head, Kathryn brushed at her eyes with shaking fingers. She refused to have Seven see her weak, especially now. Tapping gently at the wall comm., Janeway fussed with her still wet cheeks. Long seconds drew out with no answer. Frowning, her eyebrows knitting, she activated the unit again. Nothing. Taking a breath, Kathryn overrode the privacy code on the door and burst through, only to stop dead center in the middle of the room.

Seven sat hugging her knees; her body slumped heavily against the corner as it shook with sobs. The Admiral's first thought was that the huddled woman was injured, the accident doing more damage then anyone had gathered. Worry knotted heavily inside her chest as she sped towards the Borg, dropping to her knees to pull Seven to her. Small hands fluttered quickly over the blonde's body, checking for outward signs of trauma.

"Seven, are you hurt? I'm going to contact Dr. Andrews, I need you to lie still…" Resting a comforting hand against the small of Seven's back, Kathryn reached up to activate her comm. badge.

"No! Wait… Admiral… I am uninjured." Janeway stopped, her eyes riveted to Seven's. Standing uneasily, Seven tried to collect herself while pulling her ruffled uniform into place while Janeway staggered to her feet as well. Anger and embarrassment suddenly flared in her chest. "Why are you here Admiral? I did not invite you and you are not welcome."

Janeway reeled back, crossing her arms against her chest, her expression wounded. "You left sickbay without saying anything." Kathryn felt her own temper rise to meet Seven's, but refused to react to the Borg in this way. She had hurt the woman enough. Forcing her voice to quiet, she tried to explain herself better. "I admit, I was hurt and a bit angry with your disappearance, so I came looking for you. But you're right to be angry with me; I shouldn't have entered your quarters uninvited." Janeway tried offering up one of her soft, lopsided smiles. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for your forgiveness again Seven."

Instead of answering, Seven reached over to gently brush her fingers against Kathryn's still wet cheeks. "Have you been crying Admiral?"

In surprised reflex, Janeway covered her face hastily while her cheeks burned brightly.

"Of course not!" Seven's lips quirked into a sad smile, her fingers gently prying away Katherine's hands. "Your cheeks are still wet Admiral."

Seven leaned closer, cradling small hands to her chest. "Why must you always lie to me?"

Janeway's normally husky voice had dropped an octave, becoming barely a whisper. "Because I can never be completely honest with you Seven. Not then and not now."

Seven leaned still closer, her lips almost brushing their wine colored partners. Strength filled the Borg's voice, her need to be done with pretense and pain filling her with courage. "Then I shall be honest for the both of us."

The first kiss was feather light; Seven's lips were tender, making Kathryn whimper softly. Her body leaned closer, needing more, yet afraid to scare the blonde woman away with her forcefulness. The kiss slowly turned hungrier, needy, making both women step closer into each other. Curves met lightly, the fabric of their uniforms rasping against each other. The sensation almost made Seven's knees give out.

This is desire. The realization hit Seven like a sucker punch, her body gasping at the reaction. With Chakotay it was always about curiosity with more then a hint of loneliness.

"Seven… I…" Janeway's voice scratched out into a growl. "More."

The cool metal tips brushed slowly down the front of Kathryn's thinly clad chest… the ache burning slowly with them. Suddenly the whispery touches grew firmer, more sure, as long fingered hands cupped petite breasts while the blonde's mouth never leaving Kathryn's for a second. Blue gray eyes squeezed shut, the touch almost painful for the older woman as she fought not to sob in need. Cupping the Borg's head possessively, she dug her fingers firmly into smoothly fine hair.

Too much… so soon… does it matter? Seven…

Stepping back, her body reacting almost violently to the loving caresses, Janeway grasped the exploring hands. Her voice cracking, she spoke quietly.

"I… not here, not right now. I can't do this Seven… I can't do this when everything around us is falling apart."

The almost childlike face inches from her own started to harden, the hurt molding the beautiful face into anger. Gently taking the blonde's chin in her hand, her thumb lovingly tracing the dimple there, Kathryn spoke quickly before the woman in front of her could react further.

"Now may not be the time, but when this is all over Seven… I need you to know I'm not going anywhere. I left once out of pride, I won't make that same mistake twice."

The rest of the night was spent searching for what little answers they could get their hands on. Their time was quickly running out, almost every lead had been torn apart. Only precious few possibilities remained, all of them horrific theories in their own unique way. Janeway was starting to suspect there was a lot more to this then just half-formed scientific theories and research. The idea that an organized Cardassian resistance was living and breathing inside the Federation filled the Admiral with a real sense fear and loathing.

Pacing slowly in front of the seated figure, the dark woman schooled her face into a blank mask. Her irritation wafted off her like musk, Ensign Simms stopped suddenly in front of the chair.

"It didn't work… is that what you're telling me?"

She could feel the left side of her face ticking slightly, her rage quickening with every heartbeat. The motion was sharp and quick, her hand whipping out to connect solidly with his cheek. The larger figure slumped heavily out of the chair, blood pooling slowly under his prone head. Sliding an old blade smoothly out of her weathered boot, the Cardassian hilt glittering in the air, she'd caught him cleanly in the chest. Her free hand caught his gulping throat as he seized, stifling his cry of pain. Now it would just be her, and Simms had complete faith in her own abilities. She was content in the knowledge that now she wouldn't have to rely on another living soul.

Chapter Eight

Admiral Janeway woke with a start, her chest tightening with the sudden movement around her. She started to rise, only to be stopped by two distinctive, yet very gentle hands. Janeway's lips quirked slightly. Seven's hair was only slightly mussed, long strands framing her narrow features sweetly. It must be hard to look so pulled together first thing in the morning.

"It is alright Admiral. You fell asleep and I carried you to the couch." Janeway's eyebrow quirked in amusement. Reaching out slowly, Kathryn absently brushed the blonde's cheek.

"I think it's time you started calling me Kathryn, otherwise this might get awkward." Seven's expression was entirely too serious, her brows knitted. "I will endeavor to do so in the future."

Kathryn smiled self-consciously. "That's all I ask."

Looking down at herself wryly, the smaller woman realized she was still mostly in uniform. She could only guess how disheveled she looked at the moment.

"I need a shower. And some coffee. Not necessarily in that order."

"Indeed. I had anticipated this." Reaching over towards the utilitarian coffee table, metal encased fingers closed around the freshly replicated mug. Finally dragging herself upright, Janeway rubbed her hands together almost gleefully, her mouth watering. Handing the cup off, Seven watched in fascination as Kathryn hummed happily while cradling the cup to her chest. Leaning forward, the Borg gently kissed the small woman's forehead, the gesture surprising them both.

"What was that for?"

"I do not know. I found your gesture very…" she paused, searching for the appropriate word "endearing and acted accordingly."

Kathryn smiled shyly. "Shall we start the day?"

"Acceptable."

Her thickly muscled head tilted up, black eyes trailing the front of the building slowly. All around her was the gray, dreary architecture that littered Cardassia Prime. Sandy textures permeated every surface, and the towering structure in front of her was no different. Emily's eyes continued their journey upwards, shortly coming to rest on the harsh looking hook that stood atop almost all Cardassian structures. Something inside her cringed at the sight of it… while another took an odd sense of pleasure from the familiar tapestry of gray. Closing her eyes, Simms allowed her mind to wander…

Standing before a full length mirror, her hand reaching out to steady her faltering steps… Emily caught a brief glimpse of her tattered face. Heavy brow ridges accentuated the blunted features… thick neck ridges bunched heavily against her strangely muscled neck. Nothing human faced her and the growing sense of hysteria started to rise quickly in the pit of her stomach. Gasping raggedly for air, the young woman fought to free herself from the too vivid dream. It would take long minutes for her to succeed, her body twitching hard against the unforgiving mattress.

Whimpering softly, Simms rolled partway off the low-lying bed, her eyes immediately falling on the crumpled pile of clothes. She could almost see the sparkle of the blade, see it arch slowly in the still air…

It didn't work… is that what you're telling me?

Emily blinked rapidly, her mind fighting to place the phrase and accompanying thoughts. Staggering up off the bed, Emily teetered slowly into her Spartan bathroom, her footfalls sluggish and disjointed. The young ensign felt light headed and nauseous, her body rebelling against her slow migration to the sink.

Reaching the low standing basin, the trembling woman doused her face with almost freezing water. A sudden eruption of gooseflesh made her shiver with cold, her hands still half-filled with water. Staring hard into the sink, Emily's mind was suddenly fascinated with the rippling of water. Cardassians were always enchanted by water… the same way small birds always seem to be as they flitter along a pond's surface. As she continued to stare, Simms started to notice the tiny droplets of blood that were marring the almost still surface of liquid. Confused, she brought her hand up to her face, surprised at the feeling of warm liquid coating her fingers.

Blood pounded from her nose onto her chin and chest, the sudden gushing warmth was a startling contrast to her chilled body. Turning, reaching blindly for some nearby cloth, the dark haired woman looked uneasily into her bedroom. Emily couldn't tell whether she was still dreaming or if perhaps her over-stressed mind was finally tossing in the towel. Simms could still see the sun-scorched sand brushing the darkly foreboding buildings from her dreams. The two landscapes intermingled oddly to form an almost surreal mixture of Starfleet furniture amid a dessert oasis. Stifling a near hysterical laugh, the small ensign stumbled deeper into the bedroom. Her Starfleet issued bed looked to be nestled sweetly in a pile of slowly sifting dust, the golden tint of dirt turning the white sheets beige.

Emily Simms started to laugh. Softly at first, as she cautiously fingered the loose bedding, and then her laughter turned sharper… almost hysterical in its intensity. And just as suddenly as it had started, the hallucination faded… and with it her laughter. It was as if something inside her had suddenly clicked into place, making the world around her right again. Her fear and anxiety were gone, as if someone or something had flipped some magical switch in her mind, killing every emotion.

Sitting down cautiously on the edge of her bed, Simms looked down at her bloodied shirt with amusement. She hadn't bled like this since her training on Cardassian Prime. The memory of tumbling around in the sand dunes firing weapons, and curses, at her fellow soldiers brought a warm tinge to her heart. Knowing that she had never even set foot on Cardassian Prime didn't seem to bother her… she accepted it with the same odd feeling of peace that had killed her laughter only moments before. Striping off her shirt, the young woman walked quickly back into her bathroom, keying in her sonic shower settings as she entered. She would need to be presentable for her shift today; for today was the last day she was going to live as a Starfleet officer.

Slowly adding the small, metallic pips to her uniform neck, Simms eyed herself uncertainly in the mirror. The night had proven restful, if a bit odd. Surreal dreams of alien worlds and even more alien thoughts had woken her sporadically from slumber. But now, as she looked in the already cloudy mirror, she was calm. Completely devoid of any of the previous hours' delirium, she knew that she could face the day and whatever was in store for her.

Smoothing down her already wrinkle-free uniform, Emily smiled sadly at her foggy image… saying goodbye.

The cargo bay was dimly lit, all of the station's personnel having left for the night or having fled due to the growing sense of danger all around them. Many of the operations stations had been deactivated, giving the space a half dead look. Half empty crates served as shadowy camouflage, masking her movements easily. She stuck to the darker parts of the bay, eager to keep her presence unknown. Reaching the closest Danube class runabout, the young woman slid easily beneath it, her body curling up to fit the undercarriage.

Slim fingers moved nimbly over the frosty control panel, the tips going slowly numb with the contact. A small smile tugged at the left side of Simms' face, her dark eyes growing more feverish with each passing second. She was collapsing… the two warring personalities within her unable to gain control for longer then a few fleeting moments. She felt more then heard the Cardassian voice inside her screaming its rage and hatred… spurring on her need to destroy everything around her. The human side of her, the one that was slowly losing all semblance of self, fought to reign in as much of that rage as it could. Each violent act caused that dwindling part of her to whimper in pain and depression…

Deactivating the onboard sensors designed to alert the crew to tampering, Simms slid the ultra-slim explosive cartridge from the waistband of her pants. Attaching the cigarette case sized item to the overly cool hull, Simms slowly slid out from under the silent shuttle. She would either blow it manually, thereby crippling the station, or remotely, in case someone decided to follow her out the hanger bay door.

Stealing the second shuttle would be easy, getting off the relatively locked down station would not. She would need to disrupt power to the majority of the hanger section in order to force her planned method of escape. Eyes shifting nervously, Ensign Simms scanned the nearest wall, searching eagerly for a Jefferie's Tube hatch. Catching the faint outline of one of the smaller, branching tubes, Simms once again used the shadowy cargo containers to her advantage.

With almost complete silence, Ensign Simms snaked slowly into the waiting darkness.

Command and Control was oriented like most station bridges; with as much equipment crammed into the small space as possible. The various monitoring stations were situated snugly together, forcing those manning the bridge to be very familiar with each other's personal space.

Admiral Janeway was currently squeezed haphazardly between the Captain's main Ops station and the communications interface for the station. She was in the middle of composing a rather scathing reply to Starfleet Command regarding the current situation on board, making the surrounding personnel especially nervous. The Admiral was more then a little intimidating at the best of times and seeing her standing there, gestures short, jaw clenched, wasn't helping.

Seven watched the hunched woman with interest. The Admiral's motions were staccato and fierce, while her face was set solidly with her trademark command mask. Whatever was being discussed, it was irritating the petite woman greatly. Those surrounding her were trying their hardest to keep their morbid curiosity off of their youthful faces.

One of the young men stationed at the Ops Station tilted his head in interest. He briefly debated saying anything, unsure whether or not it required attention, while the thought of interrupting the small woman made his testicles tighten in fear. Shrugging almost to himself, the petite man decided to act upon instinct rather then keep quiet.

"Admiral, I'm reading power fluctuations on decks four and nine. There seems to be a series of spikes along the life support conduits. It's nothing major, just somewhat out of the ordinary."

Kathryn turned sharply, her features darkly alert while her eyes scanned the young man intently.
"Follow it back to the source. I want to know where exactly it originates and I want both security and engineering teams there immediately." Barely glancing over her shoulder to the tall, willowy man seated behind her, Janeway barked impatiently. "Captain, I'm leaving you in command. I want you to monitor everyone's progress from here. Seven, you're with me."

The Captain's eyebrows rose sharply. All this for an engineering issue? Shaking his head slightly, Captain Logan turned back to his Alpha shift. "You heard her. Monitor… whatever it is she's doing. I want complete sensor logging so that when she blows up the station, Starfleet will have something to comb through at my court martial."

Janeway bared her teeth in an angry grin, her body tense with the wonderful thrill of imminent danger. Her gut told her something was off the seconds the Ops Station officer told her about the power fluctuations. Too obvious you bastard… I'm on to you now…

The sickly sweet feeling of the chase settled deep in her chest, strangling her heart with adrenaline. Glancing quickly to her left, Kathryn took comfort in the lanky form striding strongly beside her. Cool confidence wafted off the tall woman like musk, while Kathryn's compact, but dainty frame did nothing to mask her rage. She was tired of losing people and her patience.

Trudging through the lower decks of the station, they were slowly gathering security personnel as Janeway grabbed wandering security officers while they marched on towards the anomalous power reading. As the organized crowd grew larger, other members of the station fled.

Janeway's steel grey eyes sparked like struck flint. She was ready.

She could feel them closing in, the echoing voices and footsteps pounding against the metallic chamber and flooding her ears. How they had caught up with her so quickly was anyone's guess… Janeway's leadership was probably mostly to blame.

Crouching down next to the small Jeffries's tube, Simms frantically pulled at the wall mounted power-coupling interface. She was closer now. Staring at the newly exposed fluorescent wiring, the hunched woman noted the numbering stamped against the low level glow. Only a few more sections and she would be sitting inside the main power conduit for the entire left side of the station.

Trailing her hand slowly over the smaller optical chording, Simms continued to follow them through the low level tubes. The ringing sounds of following security officers made her skin twitch painfully, her senses hyper aware of the trailing men. Finally reaching the small power supply port she was looking for, Simms hunkered down over the shallow opening. It took her several minutes before she finally found the main segment of cabling. Flipping open the small tricorder lying snug against her hip, the young ensign feverishly began to recalibrate the power supply. The lights above her head slowly flickered, signaling the sudden shift in power.

A sudden sharp note of fear suddenly split her head, the young officer's ears ringing with the last fading echoes. Simms looked around frantically, her face panicked and pained as she searched the small space. Whimpering slightly, Emily continued along her way, some part of her pushing the rest forward silently.

Staring slightly at the station's power diagrams, Seven thought quickly. Janeway peered curiously behind her, a slender hand resting on the blonde's lower back reassuringly. Rolling her shoulders, the younger tried hard to focus with the distracting presence of Kathryn invading her personal space in her own wonderful way.

Calling up her own internal maps of the station's power grid, the Borg took out her tricorder. Scanning the open panel with both the sensor and her ocular implant, Seven began cross referencing her findings.

"Admiral, it appears as though Ensign Simms has accessed several of these conduits. Since she is unfamiliar with the station, she is following the grid to various, important parts of the facility. A logical move, however, one that is easily tracked."

Tapping at the tricorder thoughtfully, the crouching blonde looked back at the Admiral. "I can even pinpoint the last location where she accessed the power grid. Deck 4, Section 13, Jefferies Tube 34A."

Janeway nodded. "You heard her people, let's move!"

Turning swiftly, Janeway didn't even check to see if the security team moved to keep up. She could feel the adrenaline taking her. She was being blinded by it, her need to protect those under her command, as well as her need to face any and all challenges. And this was proving to be one of her most desperate.

Moments later they were looking at partially blown entry hatch into one of the almost unending Jefferies tubes that littered the station. Janeway fought back a sigh. Nothing about this was going quite how she had imagined or hoped.

One of the younger officers ducked his head quickly into the charred entryway, two others covering him while he darted a quick glance. Suddenly his body jerked away, his feet leaving the floor with the chest level phaser blast. He landed with a wheeze, the baseball sized hole in his chest smoked quietly while his friends stared mutely. Turning with a shout, another officer turned to the hatch to fire blindly.

"Lieutenant, wait!" The small woman's husky shout went unheard as the panicking man fired. Just as slim fingers closed around the young man's rifle, the tube alighted with the sudden explosion of the bare power conduits. Janeway only had an impression of a small body inside the Jefferies Tube being blown back and down the ladder, her body hurtling down two or three decks before crashing into the grated floor below.

Gasping softly from the pain, the human part of her was horrified at the mess the explosion had left of her entire right side, while the Cardassian nestled inside her pushed past the growing hysteria. Craning her head, she peered up at the gathering security peering fearfully into the tunnel. Her eyes locked onto the scowling face of Admiral Janeway who was looking down at her with utter hatred. Simms could feel her bloodied face pull itself into a feral smile. With a parting wink, Emily dragged herself into the waiting service tunnel.

Sweat poured into her eyes, the moisture stinging her overly sensitive face. Every inch of exposed skin was burned and blistered with scabs of heat making any sort of movement unbearable. She vaguely remembered being burned like this before… as a young woman being trained in the Cardassian military, she had been exposed to many unique forms of torture. The common belief was that this made a soldier stronger, more resilient to alternative forms of questioning. She had excelled in this area of study, able to bite back the pain and function almost impeccably. That skill was coming in handy now.

Raising the lesser-mutilated hand, she began to trace the power conduit back towards Cargo Bay Three. The now familiar spark of fear settled once more in the pit of her stomach, firing off a streak of adrenaline.

She pushed on, her body aching in an almost euphoric way signaling the coming of unconsciousness. Her entire right side was numb, small slivers of ice running up into her shoulder with each jostling step. None of it really fazed her, all she could focus on was getting to the cargo bay, her mind blocking off everything else. Unsure as to what she would find once she got there, all she allowed herself to worry about was the journey. It look her almost an hour to reach the reinforced doors, and another fifteen minutes to get the huge slabs of duranium open.

Staring out into the silent, achingly open room, Simms settled her attention on the four dark crafts in front of her. One was slightly bigger then the other, but only due to the fact that it had a dual set of antiquated photon cannons sitting astride its smooth underbelly. Streaking quickly towards it, she slid her body in closely against the gray surface of the armed vessel. Pinning herself between the cool floor and the softly humming ship, Simms was almost lulled to sleep, her body begging for rest. She had always been relaxed by the constant vibrations from her father's test core, the Cardassian wind sending the faint shivers off into the house along with the smell of burning plastics.

Fingers sliding over the small terminal planted against the ship's surface, Simms tried hard to shake the memory, her mind becoming more confused then comforted by the thought. Something about it whispered untrue and it unsettled her greatly. Shrugging it off, mostly, she began the tedious task of re-configuring the aft deflector relay on The Merlin. Her hands were sure and steady while her mind drifted into another long forgotten memory of childhood.

Slipping easily back into the maintenance shaft she'd entered through, Simms' body slithered against the protruding consoles. Her body screamed silently. Now only two of the six station shuttles were functioning, limiting Janeway's options greatly.

She had kept herself well hidden while utilizing the various Jefferie tubes and maintenance corridors that littered the station, but she knew Janeway would catch up shortly. Knew she was close to being captured. They had zeroed in more then once, and Emily had come up bloodied and torn, but she had thought ahead. What decent Cardassian soldier wouldn't? Granted, up to this point, Janeway had missed the majority of Emily's small, powerful presents, but her luck wouldn't last long.

With each passing moment, the station grew weaker. Each successive blast tore away at the aging station's already fragile structure. It would only be a matter of time before Admiral Janeway killed them all.
Emily sighed a little wistfully… wouldn't that be lovely?

Peering closely at the entry point to yet another claustrophobic tunnel, Admiral Janeway's mouth tightened. Every entryway was turning into a gamble. They couldn't detect whether or not any particular hatch had been rigged with explosives, or hold the woman herself, leaving those following Ensign Simms more then a little hesitant.

The station's walls had begun to groan loudly from the last series of explosions, the support structures threatening to buckle. With a gut-wrenching squeal, the entire station shifted, sending everyone flying to their knees.

Wonderful. I'd give anything to be facing the Borg right now, Janeway thought darkly, struggling to her feet.

Resting the phaser rifle easily against her slender hip, Janeway took stock of the few security officers surrounding her. People were slowly starting to raise up their battered bodies, their faces marked with fear. The station continued to quake, reminding those still on board of the crippling hole taking up most of the western ring.

There were fifteen armed officers, and twelve with various metal components taken from inside various collapsed Jeffries tubes. Standing immediately to her right, Seven looked the most collected of the lot. Her face was determined, but angry. Janeway had only seen the young woman angry a few times before, and most of it had been aimed at her; something the Admiral had never forgotten.

Redirecting her gaze, Kathryn called for the search to continue, and prayed it would end quicker then she imagined.

Chapter Nine

Kathryn landed solidly on the small landing below her, her body crouching with the impact. Looking up, she saw Seven step down into the empty space above her and land solidly next to her. Tapping her Comm. badge, Janeway's gravely voice filled the claustrophobically small tunnel. "Janeway to search party, continue on above us. We're going to try and herd her over to your position. Stay sharp. Janeway out."

Turning to face the narrow space, the two women quietly slinked down the dimly lit hallway. Janeway's eyes scanned the surrounding bulkheads and deep crevices tensely, her ears straining to pick up even a whisper of movement. The almost inaudible whine of a phaser powering up made Kathryn jerk unsteadily to her right, forcing her to collide painfully into Seven. Not having moved fast enough, Kathryn's shoulder took the brunt of the blast, her arm going numb instantly.

Seven recovered first, the close quarters blinding them all momentarily with the sudden shift in light. Edging Kathryn to the side, she slipped easily between the two injured women. Striking out in reflex, the tall blonde knocked the small human aside, feeling the young woman's jaw give at the brutal contact. Behind her, Janeway pushed herself roughly from the wall, a low snarl breaking from thin lips.

Staggering drunkenly to her feet, Emily careened unsteadily down the hall. Steadying her aim with her left hand cradling her elbow, the Admiral shot the retreating figure, satisfied when Simms' right leg gave way smoldering. The ruined figure stumbled, the blow taking her to her knees with a grunt. Janeway's lips thinned with frustration. She willed the woman to stay down, to let this futile chase stop.

Emily realized with some humor that she had become completely detached the second she felt her leg crumple. Adrenaline had killed the pain, but her training had kicked in as well, forcing her mind to spin off quickly into possible avenues of escape. The main hangers were off to her right, while the security controls for that area would still be disabled from her earlier adventure. Turning quickly, her ruined leg screaming in protest, Emily darted into the nearest Jefferies tube.

"Son of a bitch…" Kathryn hissed while skidding to a halt, her hand tightening around her drawn phaser. She had to stifle the sudden need to pummel her fist into the nearby wall. "Alright, I've had just about enough of this."

The hanger was still dark and eerily bereft of any movement. Scanning the space quickly, Emily limped heavily over to the two main shuttles she had visited earlier. She covered the distance slowly, her panicked mind pushing her body forward on will alone.

Emily paused, her mind suddenly awash in confusion. Which had she attached the explosive to… which had been her target?

One on the left is safe…

Smiling slowly, the young ensign entered the silent runabout on her left. As the hatch automatically closed behind her, Simms pondered the twinge of sadness that filled her chest. And just as quickly pushed it aside.

Minutes later, Emily's hands danced furiously, bypassing the pre-flight and safety checks as she powered up the engines and rudimentary weapons. With a grin, she aimed at the beefy seals that kept the shuttle bay pressurized. They blew open with a satisfying display of fireworks and metal debris. Her smaller craft tilted its nose down, speeding up to fly desperately towards the ruined doors. Barely noticing the breath she was holding, Emily's body sagged with quiet relief as she cleared the station rings.

Her relief would be very short lived.

Janeway's craft, the secondary shuttled housed in the now ruined bay, was sluggish and bottom heavy. Equipped with the brutishly heavy experimental engine, it handled like a Klingon freighter. Barely out of the station's gravitational field, Janeway realized with dread that they would never catch up with the smaller, faster craft speeding along ahead of them.

Turning nimbly, the smaller craft fired rapidly. Dodging both the incoming fire and floating debris was testing the small woman's rarely used piloting skills. Luckily, Janeway was one of the better pilots in Starfleet.

"Seven, I need to know if we can use the surrounding debris as ammunition for a sling-shot of sorts. I want to use the tractor-beam as a propellant."

The blonde head titled slightly in thought, causing the metallic implant above her eye to glitter dully.

"Yes, but we'll need to pinpoint the confinement beam while actively altering this ship's trajectory to match our target."

Smirking slightly, Janeway glanced back. A quirk of one elegantly blonde eyebrow was the only response.

Turning back to the navigational controls, Kathryn spent several long minutes, with Seven's help, using the onboard tractor beam to pelt the fleeing ship with large metal fragments. Finally, one of the projectiles found the mark, spinning the craft off into one of the larger pieces of debris. But even crippled, she was able to fire quickly at the advancing ship.

Unable to move away, the surrounding materials having tightened around Janeway's ship, the last volley broadsided the lurching runabout. Cursing hotly, Kathryn slid back from the controls as the power flickered and finally died. Ripping open one of several emergency cabinets, she started rummaging. As the Admiral began pulling out various components that comprised the standard issue spacesuits, Seven began re-routing power.
"Admiral, we have lost eighty percent effective navigation. Life support has failed. Re-routing backup cells to thruster control and engines."

Turning, her hands brimming with flexible plastic, Janeway thrust one of the suits at Seven's seated form.

"I have an idea…"

The helmet clicked into place with a snap, the visor lamp shining almost painfully into her eyes. Janeway heard the accompanying click as Seven moved her helmet into position. Sitting stiffly, the suit restricting natural movement, the pair went back to their stations.

Janeway's hands breezed over the navigational controls, her back to Seven who worked just as intently. The cabin was filling quickly with steam, the last hit having damaged the environmental regulators. Wiping impatiently at the condensation gathering along the thruster controls, Janeway felt the shuttle shudder harshly.

"Ready?" The husky voice was light and confident, belying the nervousness beneath it.
"Of course Admiral."

"Computer, lock onto The Merlin, and set engines for ramming speed. Energize…'

The sudden weightlessness pulled at Kathryn's equilibrium, her stomach rolling slightly with the sensation. Reaching forward, the small woman grabbed a fistful of Seven's spacesuit, bringing the two drifting figures closer together. Working quickly, she connected several towing cables to her own grappling hooks, while lacing them with the hooks on Seven's suit. Engaging her thrusters to maximum, Janeway shot the two figures forward into the awaiting void.

Neither woman looked back as their shuttle slammed into the crippled starship. Instead they curled farther into each other, each praying for the other's safety while their bodies continued to hurtle into the never-ending night.

Ensign Simms could see the windows cracking, the stress splintering the transparent aluminum. Whispered sounds of plastic shattering filled the small cabin, the groan of collapsing metal fiber followed shortly behind. A second explosion rumbled the small craft, the left warp cell flying off slowly into space, antimatter spraying out beautifully behind it. Reaching up absently, Simms laid her hand reverently against the spider-webbed glass… her fingers absently tracing the bleeding antimatter.

As the atmospheric pressure began to scream silently into space, Simms watched calmly as her hand went with it. Followed shortly thereafter was the rest of her body, the vacuum of space tearing it eagerly from the runabout. She embraced the silent killer gratefully as her body imploded against the backdrop of space.

Janeway winced at the sight. Turning her head slightly away from the view of Ensign Simms' trailing organic mass, she eyed Seven uncertainly. The silent woman's gaze was focused completely on the dying ensign. Janeway was somewhat surprised to see the younger woman's lips thin with emotion. Noticing the quiet perusal, Seven spoke sharply. "I regret her ending was not more painful. She has damaged those I… care for."

Kathryn smiled slightly, knowing she was one of those people. "I know Seven." Eyeing the oxygen indicator on her arm, the Admiral cleared her throat. "Let's try and head back to the station. Maybe we can get within transporter range before they send out the Calvary."

"I do not believe they will send horses to collect us, Admiral. They would preferably send shuttles instead."

Kathryn eyed the other woman wearily. "Sometimes I wonder about you Seven. Sometimes I wonder about you a lot."

Chapter Ten

Sighing wearily, Admiral Janeway looked down at her clasped hands, the knuckles white with exhaustion. This is the part she hated about her job, the bureaucracy. She had spent hours debriefing various station personnel with the looming faces of several Starfleet admirals projected behind her, each adding their own insights and questions. They had decided to hastily start the conferences on board the barely stable station, while broadcasting the proceedings to multiple points within the fleet and Earth.

Everything had been relatively straightforward and blissfully quick. Tensions were high, and everyone involved seemed keen on getting as much of the formalities out of the way as possible. Dr. Whicter's medical standing was the current topic of conversation… which wasn't going as smoothly as the rest.

Admiral Lee's squared jaw jutted out impatiently, his dark eyes framed by a scowling brow. "I'm not certain what the issue is Admiral Leone, he's a security risk as well as a unique portal into on-going Cardassian espionage. He should be shipped immediately to Starfleet Intelligence on Mars and studied. Any information we can gleam from this man can be used to track down other possible suspects."

Michael Leone's lilting accent snapped back impatiently. "He's a Federation citizen and should be placed in specialized medical care! Any attempts to simply spirit him away to some undisclosed lab would be a gross violation of his rights. I won't have it! This is still a government based on freedom, not fear mongering."

Rubbing at her throbbing eyes, Janeway tried hard to ignore the massive headache building at the base of her skull and the shouting men that were doing nothing to help it. Seven… She hadn't seen Seven since they had been beamed back aboard. The thought somehow ratcheted up her already above tolerance irritation. I think this has gone on long enough thank you…

"I hate to be a bother gentlemen, but it's been something of a trying day. I, personally, would like to table this discussion until tomorrow." Flashing her patented lopsided grin, Janeway continued lightly. "Otherwise I may collapse right here, something I'd like to avoid given the lack of comfort associated with the floor."
Both men's faces softened slightly, fondness darkening Admiral Lee's normally hard expression. "Of course Kathryn. We've been a little overzealous, my apologies. However, please keep in mind what we discussed earlier… I think this research station could benefit with a more hands-on approach."
Nodding slightly, Janeway stood shakily. "I will Lee. I promise to go over the proposal carefully. Thank you for your time gentlemen."

Kathryn almost bolted from the conference room, her feet carrying her wearily to her quarters. Exhaustion hung over her like a heavy cloak, turning her body stiff and painful. Several long minutes later, she stood outside the door to her quarters. The hallways were far from empty, various personnel scrambling to and fro while repairing the listing station. Entering her darkened living room, she wondered idly if she were going to be able to sleep with all the noise radiating through the bulkheads. Voices and equipment filled the rooms with high pitched buzzing.

Not even bothering to make it to the sofa, Janeway plopped down heavily at her desk, reaching up to undo her suddenly choking collar. Absently she began removing her pips and comm. badge, failing to notice the quietly reclining figure sitting almost at attention on her couch.

Tossing the metallic items onto the gleaming desk, Janeway slouched heavily in her high backed chair. Closing her eyes, she hummed quietly in exhaustion. The intruder shifted uneasily, finding it odd that the seated Admiral had yet to notice her. Weariness seemed to have stripped the older woman of her ability to perceive the nervous air radiating off the other woman.

Clearing her throat gently, Seven spoke in almost a whisper. "Kathryn?"

Janeway jerked upright, almost propelling herself out of the chair and into the adjacent wall. Her rather undignified grunt of surprise made Seven's lips quirk in amusement, something she fought to hide when Kathryn finally righted herself. The admiral didn't look too terribly amused.

"What the hell are you doing in here Seven?"

Lifting her chin slightly, her usual aura of arrogance asserting itself, Seven spoke quietly. "I wanted to see you."

Shaking her head in exasperation, Janeway rounded her desk to stand a few feet from her couch and crossed her arms.

"Asking would have been more appropriate, Seven. Given the circumstances lately, I could have easily thought you were an intruder intent on hurting me."

Moving to sit lightly next to the tall woman, Janeway leaned closer.

"I need you to understand that there is a command structure here, much like on Voyager. Starfleet regulations have not changed since our return."

Seven's eyes turned cold, her faced hardening in accompaniment. Standing, she looked down at the admiral with disdain.

"We are no longer on Voyager, Admiral. Your excuses are growing old."

Kathryn sighed softly, closing her eyes briefly to refocus her thoughts. Reaching out blindly, she grabbed the retreating woman's hand. "Wait." Janeway's eyes opened and centered squarely on the sharp features above her. "I'm sorry. I'm tired and still a little anxious. Please stay. I could use the company."

The blonde's lanky frame perched once again on the cushioned sofa. Taking another long breath, the small woman continued to hold the long fingered hand in hers.
"I'm sorry Seven." Janeway's lips quirked into a self-conscious smile. "You startled me and I reacted badly."

Nodding slightly, the Borg slid closer as Kathryn turned to lean heavily against the plush cushions. The smaller woman rubbed at her eyes with exhaustion, her body slumping. Smiling slightly to herself, Seven couldn't help but gaze at the other woman in affection. Reaching over gently, her metal encased fingers gently brushed aside the tangled tresses that framed tired eyes. Both women stiffened the second the cool fingertips made contact.

Kathryn opened her eyes slowly, locking gazes with the blonde hovering over her. Seven moved to withdraw her hand, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Reaching up instinctively, Janeway moved the Borg hand to her cheek. Turning, her eyes never leaving Seven's, she placed a delicate kiss on the captured hand. Riveted, the Borg leaned closer, bringing her lips a mere breath away from Kathryn's. Without thought, the small admiral closed the gap between them, her lips brushing lightly against the fuller ones before her. Pulling back slightly, Kathryn felt her heart lodge itself firmly in her throat. Her eyes scanned Seven's face, her adrenaline rising to meet any possible response.

Somewhat startled, the taller woman pulled back as well, her fingers flying to her electrified lips. Quickly she leaned forward once more, kissing Kathryn with more force then before. Any hesitancy that should have followed did not. Their kisses were rough. Neither cared. It was the harsh sound of fabric ripping that startled them both into awareness. Both sets of eyes looked down curiously at Seven's hands which were splayed possessively against Kathryn's chest. Without either noticing, the young woman's Borg enhanced hand had started to tear away the thick woolen material of the Admiral's command tunic.

Covering the blonde's overly eager hands, Kathryn's voice was soft. "Gently Seven… gently. We have all the time in the world."

Seven's face showed more then a hint of fear at the words. "Do we? If you decide to leave, I want something of you to carry with me. "

Cupping the blonde's face gently with both hands, Janeway's voice grew soothing. "Seven, I hurt you once, I know that. I thought I was being the better person by letting you go, by letting you have a 'real' life. I could never be with you on Voyager; my command wouldn't allow that, no matter how much I wanted it. And once you were with Chakotay, I realized I had made a mistake in thinking that you desired me, that you loved me in some small way. When we returned, I simply retreated. You had made yourself clear as to whom you wanted, and it wasn't me."

Seven inched forward slowly, placing a hesitant kiss on thin lips. "I have always wanted you, always needed you. Chakotay was kind; he was not a purely incorrect choice, but he was not you and neither was I. We both wanted something we could not have."

Janeway chuckled humorously. "What a pair we make. The blind leading the blind. You should've picked a better tutor."

Seven idly traced the curve of Kathryn's jaw while her voice took on a wistful quality. "I was not looking for a tutor. I was simply looking for you."

There was such wonder and hope dancing across Seven's face that it was almost painful to look at. She had been faced with such hurt filled hatred only a few days before…

Kathryn's face broke into a genuine, yet hesitant smile. "Stay with me tonight Seven. Nothing need happen; I simply want to be near you."

Tugging again at her collar once more, Kathryn started unzipping her now ruined command tunic. Tossing it aside, she reached back and reached down and pulled the still seated woman with her. Her voice painfully soft, the older woman continued to coax the Borg.

"Please? I promise nothing will happen tonight that you don't want, or aren't ready for. There's no pressure Seven."

Standing slowly, the blonde made a point of invading the smaller woman's space. Her voice pitched low and husky, she whispered softly.
"What if I want many things to happen tonight?"
Clearing her throat against the sudden case of dry mouth, Kathryn spoke a little breathlessly. "That can be arranged just as easily."

Closing her eyes, she lapped slowly at the salty sweet pool of sweat cradled in the hollow of Seven's throat, the gesture making them both tighten in anticipation. It was the feel of the smaller woman's nipples grazing her own that made Seven whimper in need. Her body betraying her almost immediately as her hips lifted to meet the body above her, begging Janeway for release. She instead lightly traced a pebbled nipple with her tongue, loving caressing the stiff peak.

Kathryn slipped inside her slowly, their breath mingling as lips met gently. Seven's body arched slightly, rising to meet the sweetly invading fingers. Kathryn moved to kiss Seven's dimpled chin, and then lower to her elegantly long throat. Janeway was forcing herself to be gentle, her motions smooth and reassuring instead of lust filled. Years of denial filled Kathryn with the need to rush, to prove to herself and Seven that they were finally together.

Their movements became fluid; all thought having finally fled and they took from each other what they had craved for so long.

Kathryn finally felt her breathing slow, her body going still while simultaneously curling around the taller, lankier form next to her. Settling, the smaller woman pillowed her head on Seven's lean shoulder, only to be jostled aside as the tall Borg abruptly sat up.

"Do you want me to leave now Admiral?"

Kathryn blinked in lethargic confusion. Finally finding her voice, Janeway sputtered indignantly. "No, I want you to stay and cuddle with me. And, if it suits you, tomorrow night. And the night after that, and the night after that!"

Pulling the lost looking woman to her, Kathryn's voice turned soft.
"Seven, have I given you the impression that I wanted you to go? Have I upset you in some way?"

Shaking her head in the negative, the Borg took a steadying breath. "No, you have not. But I do not clearly understand the parameters of our relationship. It has changed dramatically over the course of eight days, and I am not… accustomed to it."

Brushing aside the tussled hair, and tucking it behind Seven's ear, Janeway's voice remained gentle. She swallowed convulsively. She had always been so bad with things like this, but Kathryn realized quickly that she would be to be succinct and clear.

"I want to enter into a monogamous, romantic relationship with you. If you'll have me…" The last few words were offered with a self-deprecating smirk.
Seven's eyes were serious, her tone grave. "More then I have wanted anything else in my life."
Giving Seven one of her patented lopsided smiles, Kathryn whispered softly. "And I have wanted it since the moment I laid eyes on you. A part of me has always needed you... ached for you…"

Fingertips glided gently against a soft cheek as Kathryn's eyes teared. Seven's head fell forward, resting limply in the crook of Kathryn's shoulder, her hair shimmering down the older woman's back. The rough, choked sob filled Kathryn's ears.

"I love you…"

She cradled the golden head to her, kissing the hair softly.

"And I have always loved you."

Sitting quietly under the view port situated conveniently above the bed, wrapping itself around the entire side of the Admiral's quarters, Seven and Kathryn lazed easily. Naked limbs tangled absently while Janeway caressed the blonde hair pillowed against her chest.

"Have you given Starfleet Command an answer yet?" Seven whispered.

"Yes, actually, I have. I gave them my letter of acceptance this morning."

The admiral could feel Seven's face tighten against her breast. "You are leaving then. You have accepted the new command."

Janeway smiled slowly. "Yes Seven, I have accepted the new command. I am now the head of research and development as it pertains to Delta Quadrant travel. And at such a time where it becomes feasible, I'll be commanding whatever ships can make the journey."

Blonde brows furrowed in confusion. "I… see."

The Admiral tried hard to keep her tone light. "Which means I'll need a center of operations, hopefully some place where I can keep a close eye on my research projects."

Seven shifted up to lean on her elbow, her pale eyes scanning Kathryn's face. "Would that require moving our research to Earth?"

Darkly colored lips finally quirked into a soft smile. "No Seven. That means I'll be taking command of this space station. I've already requested, and been granted, serious renovations with regards to it. I've also recommended a new Chief of Research Operations."

Silence filled the large quarters unexpectedly, Janeway having paused to wait for Seven's onslaught of questions. They never came.

"Seven? Don't you want to know who I'm recommending?"

"No. As long as you are here and I am allowed to continue my work, I do not care about the command structure governing the station. It is irrelevant."

Blinking in mild surprise, the Admiral spoke quietly. "But surely you want to progress through that command structure? Don't you want to be recognized for your achievements and be promoted accordingly?"

"On the contrary, as long as I am left to my research, outside views and opinions are discarded. I deem them inferior."

Kathryn simply gazed at the lounging woman in silence, her mind roaming over this interesting development. "Well Seven that might pose something of a problem. You see, I've recommended you for the position. You'd be in charge of all research development, as well as give input to all the renovations that are scheduled."

Seven's face clouded momentarily. "I am not the most popular individual on board, Kathryn. I may not be the best choice as it pertains to station moral and cooperation."

Janeway reached out to lightly trace the Borg's dimpled chin, something that was quickly becoming a favorite pastime.

"We'll work on that together… if you accept the position that is. I won't push you into this Seven, this has to be your choice."

"I understand. However, I must admit I am intrigued by the possibility. Will I be working closely with you?"

"Of course."

"Then I find your recommendation acceptable."

Janeway beamed, her hands bringing the blonde woman closer.

"Now, as your new commanding officer, I have a few… requests I need to make of my new Chief."

Seven's lips quirked in silent humor. "I will comply."

The End

Finally