Disclaimer: Only the story is mine. Everything else belongs to Paramount. kicks Paramount But they've abandoned their characters and stuff and did really nutso things to them, so I delete Paramount. I'm not making any money off this, so leave me alone, Paramount minions! I wrote this story, which was my very first ever Voyager fanfic, in August, 2000. It was not beta'd. This story contains a relationship between two women, so if that offends you, please read something else

Code: T/7.
Genre: Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13


Ghosts


Seven of Nine opened her eyes and stepped out of her alcove. The computer toned overhead and protested that her regeneration cycle was incomplete. She noted it in the back of her mind, but did nothing about it. She looked at the regenerating children, a pang of worry crossing her mind as she glanced at Icheb. His brow was furrowed and his nose ridge was twitching, as if he was having a nightmare. She watched until the dream passed and a peaceful expression returned to the face of her eldest charge, then proceeded out of the cargo bay.

She did not know why she had such difficulty regenerating as of late, but for the past week she had been unable to complete a cycle. She had checked in with the doctor after it occurred the first, second and third times, but afterwards had simply proceeded to Astrometrics to continue her never-ending quest for the most efficient external sensors she could develop. When she reached the entrance to Astrometrics, she stopped. The door did not open. She stepped back and tried to trigger it again, but again it ignored her. She laced her fingers together behind her back and quirked an eyebrow.

"Computer. Explain why the doors to Astrometrics are sealed," she demanded.

"Astrometric sensors are not on-line."

"Explain."

"Insufficient information" Seven raised an eyebrow and sighed. She checked her internal chronometer, which informed her that it was 04:42 hours. Ensign Vorik would be in charge of engineering. Not the best, but perhaps he could decipher the problem nonetheless. She headed off to Engineering.

When she reached her destination she was surprised to find Lieutenant Torres on duty. She was also surprised to find herself pleased at this, but dismissed it as relief at finding the best engineer. The half-Klingon was cursing fluently at a gutted console. Wiring and data chips were strewn about the floor surrounding her. She seemed disheveled, as though she had been pulled away from sleep by this job. Seven stepped around the mess, approached B'Elanna as closely as she could and announced her presence.

"Lt. Torres." B'Elanna swore as the tool she was using cut across her hand, leaving a bloody trail. She stuck her hand in her mouth and glared up at the tall blonde.

"Yeah?" she growled as she removed the wounded hand. Seven raised an eyebrow.

"Astrometric sensors are not working and the doors will not open. The computer cannot identify the problem."

"Great. Just great."

Seven of Nine glanced at Torres' hand. "I did not mean for you to injure yourself. Perhaps you should report to sickbay." B'Elanna looked surprised at Seven. She wasn't used to the Borg woman being so...considerate. But her temper flared once again and she decided to blame the messenger.

"I'm fine. I don't really have time for Sickbay," she snapped. Realizing it, she forced herself to calm down a little. "Astrometrics isn't the only place to have problems. Apparently, we have a ghost."

"A...ghost." Seven repeated dubiously, almost oblivious to B'Elanna's tone.

"Yeah. About an hour ago Holodeck two come on without anyone in it. At least, that's what the logs show. It ran seventeen different programs, each overlapping the others. It blew out the grid and that caused us to completely lose power on deck four..." B'Elanna rubbed the bridge of her nose, irritated and feeling the beginnings of a headache. "The power generator in the mess hall keeps blinking on and off and I've had to deal with power to life support re-routing itself almost fifteen times since I got here, which was about fifteen minutes after the holodeck incident. So I'm afraid that your precious Astrometrics will have to wait, since it's the least of my worries right now. I haven't had any complaints about sensors yet, so until I do, Astrometrics is pretty low on my priority list."

B'Elanna wanted nothing more than to just go back to her quarters and cuddle with Tom. Her head hurt, her hands hurt and worst of all, she couldn't figure out what was happening on the ship. She'd meant her ghost comment. As far as she could tell, the malfunctions were happening for no reason. She'd already ruled out a virus in the main computer, a saboteur, and common wear and tear. She was so preoccupied in her own thoughts she almost didn't hear Seven of Nine. But the clipped tone of her voice caught her attention.

"My apologies, Lieutenant. I thought reporting malfunctions to Engineering was protocol. Next time I will fix the problem myself rather than"

"Wait, Seven." B'Elanna stood, noting the hurt in the ex-drone's eyes, vaguely shocked to see it there. Seven refused to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. You're right." Seven looked past Torres when she tried to make eye contact. "I'm juststumped and angry and you're a convenient target." The blonde looked at B'Elanna, shocking her with the blueness of her eyes, something the chief engineer had never before noticed. She pushed the thought away.

"I... understand," Seven said quietly. She was disturbed by the intensity of the emotions she had felt when the half-Klingon had yelled at her. She decided that perhaps it was time to try to finish her regeneration cycle.


Tom Paris looked up from his padd as B'Elanna walked into her quarters. He'd been waiting for her for almost an hour. He'd been irritated that she'd seemed to forget their breakfast date until he saw how haggard she looked. Her permed hair was sticking out everywhere, she was covered in filth and she was rubbing her left hand, where he saw a nasty looking wound.

"B'Elanna? Are you okay?" He asked, going to her. She looked up at him with semi-hooded eyes and hugged him. A little surprised at the greeting he hugged her back, but she moved off absently after a moment and headed into the shower. He sat down and decided to give her a few minutes to clean up, resuming his reading. After about fifteen minutes, she reemerged and headed for her bed, collapsing in exhaustion. Tom walked over to the bed and knelt at the side. "B'Elanna?" he asked, brushing aside a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

"I'm just so tired, Tom. Can we please reschedule our date?" She murmured sleepily. Tom smiled at her and kissed her forehead, a little curious when her brow furrowed at the contact. He dismissed it as a headache.

"Yeah. Just make sure to see the Doc about that hand." He got up and left. B'Elanna's eyes opened when the door hissed shut. She groaned a little and pressed her fingers to her temples. Her head was throbbing and she just wanted to sleep, but for some reason she couldn't. Her stomachs were bothering her and she felt wired. She'd worked only two hours, but after pulling a double the day before, it felt like she'd worked twenty. She decided to visit the doctor, as everyone had suggested, but when she tried to sit up her head felt like it exploded. She yelled, her hand going to her forehead, and then she just lay back, hoping that somehow she could get to sleep.


On the Bridge Captain Janeway was glaring at the reading in front of her. Nothing. What wasn't up and running was being worked on, but nobody could find anything wrong with any of it. So all they had was...nothing. First Kathryn had not been able to sleep. Then she'd had to relieve B'Elanna when Vorik called up to the bridge complaining that she was overworking herself and tearing up Engineering. Finally, her replicator refused to work and she hadn't had any coffee once she realized she had to report to the bridge. It just had not been a good morning.

"Captain," Harry Kim called out. Kathryn looked over at him, thinking how he barely showed the age he'd acquired in the past six years. No longer a green, wet-behind-the-ears Ensign, his face still held some of it's original innocence, despite everything he had gone throughbeing infected with the caretaker's attempt to procreate, being held in a prison ship with a device implanted in his brain designed to slowly drive him mad, broken heart after broken heart and, most recently, being forced to live the memories of a soldier gone mad from deeds the Ensign himself would never perform. Despite it all, he still hadn't brokenshe could still look him in the eyes.

"Scanners indicate there's a derelict ship two light years, thirty-two degrees off port," he continued, breaking her reverie. "A weak, automated distress signal is being issued on a continuous loop. Audio only."

"Let's hear it," she said, facing the forward view screen. The message began playing and she cocked her head to the side, looking nowhere in particular, her chin on her hand as she concentrated on listening.

"To any vessel within range of this message. We are in need of medical assistance. Our ship has been infected with a virus apparently harmful only to ourselves. We are the Ssckerellon. Mammalians need not respond."

Janeway's eyebrow quirked upon hearing the last sentence. She gave Chakotay a 'can you believe this?' look. He raised his eyebrows in return.

" 'Mammalians need not respond,' " he repeated. "Doesn't sound very friendly."

"Indeed." Kathryn agreed. She looked at the screen and squinted as though she might be able to see the offending speaker. Then she sat up straight, looking determined. "Helm. Alter course to investigate the 'derelict ship'. Warp two."

"Aye, Captain." Janeway leaned conspiratorially in towards Chakotay.

"Your thoughts, Commander?"

"Might be worth a look if we get out of there before any 'friends' show up. If there's anyone left alive, then maybe they'll welcome any help they can get." Janeway gave him a half-smile, glad her first officer agreed with her. She looked back at her chief of security, curious as to why she hadn't heard from him.

"No objections, Tuvok?" Tuvok raised an eyebrow at her.

"I have found that objecting seldom does any good when your curiosity is aroused, Captain. Furthermore, I, too, am intrigued. The likelihood of any survivors is minimal, though we should proceed with caution."

"Agreed."

Voyager sailed through space towards a ship roughly half it's size. The little ship was black with various shades of green frond patterns, as though it was meant to hide itself in a dark, dense forest. It was smooth and shaped similar to a beetle's shell. It listed, rolling slowly, showing its underside. The belly was flattened and two pectoral wings extended out, thin and aerodynamic. Yellow stripes with red underlaying made up the ventral surface. All in all it was not a very friendly looking ship.

Which was what Tom Paris had just stated. Janeway was leaning towards the screen, staring at the ship. It had no running lights and as far as Harry Kim could tell, no life.

"But the ship has a forcefield with a configuration I've never seen before," Harry added. "It may be interfering with sensors..." Suddenly that part of his board went dark. "Which...we don't seem to have anymore." The captain turned in her chair to look at the Ensign.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it was working a second ago," he began as he tapped the controls that refused to even make their 'non-operational' sound. Janeway stood and walked over towards him, looking over his shoulder. "They were working a second ago, but now..." He pursed his lips and his brow furrowed. "I don't understand it, Captain."

Janeway put a calming hand on his shoulder. "Easy, Ensign, we'll figure it out." She began walking back down to the command area when the lights dimmed and began flashing red. An alarm went off and Janeway spun around to face Tuvok, who calmly announced:

"Intruder Alert."

Seven Of Nine had finally achieved her goal: opening the doors to Astrometrics. It was a mistake that she paid for almost immediately. As the door slid open, a dark form smashed into her, paralyzing her. She attempted to move from her place on the deck, but was unable. She felt a pain in her right arm and realized that the assailant must have injected her with a neurotoxin or other paralytic. The thought came that she should never have come here alone when there was obviously something wrong. Completely conscious, she was given time to lay and contemplate her error as she listened to the intruder alert sound.


Harry Kim's instrument panel finally lit up once again. A section began blinking, demanding his attention and he pressed it. His brow furrowed as he examined what the computer was telling him. He rechecked the data to make sure that he wasn't receiving false sensor readings. Once certain, he called, "Captain!"
Naomi Wildman was frightened. She had been running a holo-simulation with Mezoti when the hologrid suddenly shut down. Mezoti headed directly for Cargo Bay Two and Naomi was in the turbolift, en route to her quarters. The turbolift shuddered and stopped. A thud landed on the roof of the car. She bit back a scream and sat down in the corner. She heard a click, click, click and she began crying silently, wishing that Neelix or her mom or Seven were there.

Every monster with claws from her fairy tales ran a cycle of images through her head. She shook, wondering if the monster knew she was there, if it could smell her. The clicking stopped and Naomi waited quietly. A scraping sound began at the top of the lift, over the door and continued down the doors until it reached the center, then stopped. Naomi's heart pounded in her chest and she held her breath, being as quiet as she could, hoping it would just go away. But when the scraping noise began to sound like the creature was trying to open the doors, she froze like a rabbit caught in an open field.


Seven flexed her fingers. It was all the control she had at the moment. But that little bit of control was better than none. Every few minutes she felt like panicking, but forced herself not to, thinking that as soon as she started, some crewman would come along and assist her. Then she would feel foolish. So she remained calm, despite the growing knot in the pit of her stomach that insisted she would be alone here forever, unable to move or cry out. The logical part of her brain, however, reminded her stomach that she was suffering from a paralytic and that the effects were most likely temporary, especially based on the evidence. And she slowly lifted her wrist.
The door creaked and Naomi sat as still as she could, hoping the thing on the other side wouldn't get through, her heart feeling like it was beating out of her chest as the door began to slowly open.
Tuvok led the security team towards Deck 15. All the turbolifts on the first seven decks were non-operational, so they were climbing slowly down to the bowels of the ship. The Vulcan just hoped they would get there before the intruder.
B'Elanna punched the console. All the systems were going haywire. She fixed one problem and another arose. If it wasn't the artificial gravity on deck 13, it was the life support on the bridge. She had found out that there was a worm in the computer after all. Now she was just trying to destroy it.
A blackwhat? Naomi hesitated at calling it a hand. It was black, with a green hue, curving and bi-digited. It looked a little like a lobster, except for the fact that the smaller digit was opposable and the edges weren't serrated. Both the larger and smaller had a single claw about as long as the last joint on her little finger.

The claw-hand was soon joined by another and the doors slowly began to force their way open. Then its head appeared. It was a grayish black-blue in color with a blunt muzzle and large black eyes. The eyes were so big that at first Naomi thought they were just bumps on it's head. Long slits ran up either side of its face from its chin, two small nostrils seeming to come straight out from it. A tusk hung down from its nose-chin.

The half-Katarian couldn't see anything that resembled a mouth. Naomi could see two dark, brownish-red horns, the same color as the tusk, set like a bull, on the sides of its head and one horn, like on a targh, only much bigger, on the top of its head. The horn on the top of its head was a dark green. It kind of reminded her of an ancient western Earth theme in its appearancelike a buffalo's skull she'd once seen on a history padd.

Naomi sat very still, hoping not to be noticed. It turned its head to the side and Naomi saw two more horns on the top of its head and back of its neck. To her, it looked like a cross between a bird and a bug. Its exoskeleton was the same color as its head, but it had more green mottled throughout. Also, it was a different texture completely. Whereas the head looked like skin, the rest of its body was rough and Naomi couldn't help thinking it looked scratchy. The legs, though they looked like the rest of the body, were really just a rough hide, with thick muscles under the skin and a reverse knee joint. The arms looked short, but were really just thick and attached to high shoulders. It had a shell-like exoskeleton that protected its sides and a real shell that came out behind it like a beetle.

It stepped into the lift and Naomi saw its feet. It had two toes on each foot in front and in back, and rather than a heel, it had another toe, each with thick claws on the tips. It turned its big, ugly head to her and stared right at her. It was about two meters high at its head, so it had to look down at her. It was an awkward movement, requiring it to lower its upper body in part. Then it opened its mouth. To Naomi it looked like its jaw split off a sliver and lowered like a lift of some sort. Its lower jaw was squarish and thin. A musty smell issued on its cold breath.

Naomi's fear got the better of her finally and she screamed at the top of her lungs. The alien reared up and closed thick eyelids tightly. The lids were the same dark green as the horns on top of its head. It issued a gut-wrenching bass roar. Naomi took another breath and screamed another blood-curdling scream. It reared up all the way and twisted itself around, hopping out of the lift. It fell downward and Naomi quit screaming.

She looked down and couldn't see the bug-creature anymore. She looked straight ahead in front of her. There was a ladder leading up and down. The door to the floor above her was closer. She reached out and jumped the short distance onto the ladder. She felt it shaking slightly and looked down, but saw nothing. Her head had hurt in the turbolift, but now the pain was fading. She started climbing up, her legs tingling to run and her belly feeling like she was going to throw up. She pressed the manual override on the door and it slid open a little. Just enough for her to squeeze through. Then she pressed the panel on the other side and it closed.

As soon as the door was closed and she felt safer, Naomi's legs gave out, she sat down hard and started crying loudly.


Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One was crying. Silent tears ran down her face as her internal chronometer informed her that she'd been laying in the same place, alone, fighting the effects of the paralytic, which she now recognized as a neurotoxin as parts of her body began shutting down for twenty-seven-point-three minutes. She was dyingalone. She had regained control of her face, but the computer wasn't accepting voice commands. She had requested an emergency transport every three minutes since she had regained the ability to speak and tried to contact the rest of the crew forty-two times.

Her bladder had been the first to shut down, much to her horror. Her pancreas seemed to be the next thing, as she felt herself going into diabetic shock, her hand curling into a fist that she couldn't unclench and she began shaking badly. Nothing else seemed to be malfunctioning yet, but she didn't think she'd survive until the next organ gave up. Her pancreas had begun giving up only three minutes before. She was beginning to experience an excruciating pain as her central nervous system returned to normal.

When she heard the young sobbing, she thought she was hallucinating. After a minute, she decided a hallucination was better than no one to talk to, so she tried her vocal chords again. She hummed a little bit and though it sounded scratchy and a little slurred, she was able to form the name of the owner of the young voice.

"Naomi Wildman." She said as loudly as she could manage. She expected no reply and so was surprised to hear the girl respond.

"Seven!" Naomi yelled and came running, stopping dead in the hall when she saw the prone form of the ex-Borg. She walked slowly up to Seven, who felt a pang of guilt. She didn't understand why, but she didn't want the child to see her that way. However, since the damage was done, Seven took advantage of the situation.

"Naomi Wildman, I require medical assistance and the comm is not functioning." Naomi looked up at the ceiling, as though she could see malfunctioning speakers in the corners.

"What can I do?" She looked down at Seven. "The turbolifts aren't working." Seven closed her eyes and breathed out slowly.

"There is a Jeffries Tube at the end of this hall that leads to deck eleven. Perhaps the comm system is in operation there. I am unable to move. However, perhaps you can go for me."

Naomi's eyes opened wide. "Me?"

"Yes. But you must hurry." Seven almost added 'I don't have much time left,' but decided not to upset the girl further. Naomi nodded, then ran down the hall. "Wait!" Seven called. Naomi stopped. "It is in the other direction."

"Oh, sorry," Naomi said, blushing. She ran with a little less vigor in the correct direction. Seven only hoped that she would be fast enough...

To be continued…

This story is finished, I'm just converting it to this format, so it may take a few days to post. Please review!