A/N: Thank you for your reviews. They are very kind and encouraging. Please enjoy this chapter.
"Living Daylights"
Chapter 3: Separation Anxiety
Captain Janeway and the rest of the bridge officers watched the viewscreen impassively as points of light hurtled toward them. It was like someone poured milk into open space from an enormous pitcher several parsecs above the ship.
She'd remarked the last time this happened only a few weeks ago that the spectacle of descending lights had a bizarre inertial effect on her belly. "I feel as if I'm falling," she had said.
This time was no different. Janeway felt the compression deep in her midsection, along with the accompanying wave of nausea. She bit down on her molars as Lt. Paris counted down the approach of the lights.
"Captain, the Treveti ships are powering their forward phasers," Commander Tuvok informed.
"Raise shields," she ordered.
"Shields at maximum," Commander Tuvok replied.
She put a hand to her chin. "Hail them! Treveti vessel this is Captain Janeway. We are here on a mission of commerce. We intend you or the Vashkoi no harm. Please call off your attack."
"You are holding the Derevo" came a static, nearly garbled message.
"Captain, the EM radiation from the fireflies is interfering with the comm signal."
"Compensate," she barked. "Treveti ship, we are holding no one captive—"
"Return her at once or suffer the consequences!"
"The fireflies are closing, Captain," Mr. Paris said. "Five hundred kilometers until impact."
"The Treveti ships are firing," Tuvok said.
The ship tossed. "Report!" Janeway yelled.
"Shields are holding, but down to 95 percent."
"Mr. Paris, the lights?"
Tom looked up at the screen. "100 kilometers."
"The Treveti are firing again."
The ship shuddered under the firepower of three ships. "Hold your fire," Janeway shouted. "We need every ounce of power we can muster to withstand the lights. Status of inertial dampeners?"
"Online," Lt. Kim said.
"They're here!" Tom said, looking up to watch the viewscreen.
In a blink, the lights became distorted streaks. But instead swarming Voyager as before and turning the viewscreen white, the lights streamed around them and some through the ship.
"Captain! The lights are converging on the Treveti ships," Tuvok said.
"Let's see it," she said.
The viewscreen showed the lights pouring over the three ships flanking Voyager.
"The Treveti have issued a mayday alert," Tuvok said.
"Well, how do you like that?" Janeway mused. "What's happening?"
"The electromagnetic beings are simply flooding the Treveti ships. The Treveti admiral is hailing us."
The viewscreen switched to the bridge of a Treveti ship, its interior was completely red, bulkheads, consoles and chairs, all the same color. The Treveti admiral was lean, with angular features. His hairy face was contorted in rage and a gleaming knife glinted under the ship's lights. "Why have you done this to us?"
In the background, the white lights were invading the bodies of the Treveti crew, who were contorting in pain as the lights systematically incinerated them from the inside out. Janeway strangled a cry of frustration in her throat. She dropped her hand from her chin. "Let's see if our plan can help the Treveti," she said, turning on her heels.
"Ready deflector dish," she said, as she settled into her command chair.
"Deflector dish fully powered," Lt. Kim replied.
Janeway looked up. "Captain to Chief Medical Officer. Are you ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
Janeway could feel Lt. Paris' curious look at the syrupy and feminine reply of the CMO. "Don't ask," she replied, without looking at him. "Not now."
Janeway focused on the white-covered ships of the Treveti.
"Is Commander Chakotay with you?"
"I'm here, Captain."
"All right, let's see if we can communicate with these beings."
=/\=
Chakotay was dressed in his traditional buckskin with geometric Native American designs embroidered along the collar that matched his tattoo. Its fringes swayed in the breeze upon the high mountain top ruins surrounded by deep gorges in Holodeck Two. He stood with the Doctor beside a ceremonial monolith in the middle of ancient Native American ruins on a high plateau.
The Doctor's still long dark hair blew across his feminine shoulders. He held his arms across his chest, his red fingernails catching the sun. The Doctor ran his hand over his unruly locks.
"What is this place?" he yelled to be heard above the windswept peak.
"Machu Picchu—a sacred place from Earth. I thought it would be a fitting place for this."
The Doctor arched a finely sculpted brow. For the previous use of the crystals, they'd merely used the default holodeck, gray walls and metal emitters. Ensign Hindaki Shibunawa had volunteered to take the thirteenth crystal skull from the replicator to the holodeck.
It had taken nearly thirty minutes for the replicator to complete the entire cycle, reproducing the crystal human skull with exacting reproduction. Shibunawa had clasped the heavy skull between his palms and carried it gingerly to Holodeck Two where it was placed in a circle with the other twelve. The instant the skull had broken the circumferential plane of the other 12, they all began to glow orange and then red. No lights had been seen for parsecs and yet, in that moment, the lights fell on them as if they'd been there the entire time.
Four of the fireflies entered Shibunawa, cremating him from the inside out. He had been reduced to gray ash within thirty seconds. The thirteenth skull had fallen half buried into the sooty remains.
From then on, the skulls were materialized onto the holodeck. The beings were summoned, but they never remained long. They responded to no person, no noise and no attempts to contain them in Voyager's efforts to communicate.
Captain Janeway and the rest of the crew hoped today would be different. This would mark the first time they utilized the Doctor, a photonic being, to communicate with them.
"Captain," Chakotay said. "We're ready."
He heard her give the command to lower the shields.
When the Doctor crossed a meridian of the circle, the lights appeared as if instantly. They were orange and shifting to red, and they swarmed the Doctor. Finally two entered him, then four and then six.
His features froze, his face coloring to red and then orange amid the swirling electromagnetic beings inside of him. He gurgled once when Chakotay shouted his name. But he was immobile and his eyes were two giant orbs and his mouth opened.
=/\=
The Captain's hand was turning white as she clung to the arm of the Command chair. She wondered why the beings had appeared to be toying with them. They seem to be protecting us from the Treveti, yet they have themselves harmed us. Why couldn't they just take the ship in one leap if they were so fast? she wondered. It was clear they had the power. No one could provide a satisfactory answer and, for the scientist she was, it was maddening. How could they solve the riddle if they had no data?
The ship's metal-grinding moans covered her exasperated curse. Voyager was never designed to be operational for fourteen years. Most Starfleet ships were decommissioned well before safety became an issue. Planned obsolescence it was called. God knows Voyager had given more to the crew, but circumstances required even more. So much more and Voyager had to hold it together.
Captain Janeway glanced up at the viewscreen. Through intermittent flashes, she could still see the swirling white clouds above the blue planet of Vashkoi. That's something, she thought.
"Andrews to Captain Janeway."
"Go ahead."
"Captain, I thought you should know the transporters just failed."
She scratched her forehead pessimistically. "Were you able to transport the Vashkoi king and his entourage home?"
"Negative too much EM interference was…."
His voice became distorted and then Janeway felt the jolt. Even with the inertial dampeners, the crew reported feeling the sudden acceleration by the lights.
"You're breaking up, Andrews. Just stay with them." Janeway bolted up. "Janeway to Engineering, cut the warp engines."
"Aye, Captain," replied Lt. Torres.
"Here we go," Janeway murmured.
But no one could hear. The ship was vibrating at a dangerous level. Every mega joule of power, except life support, was rerouted to hull integrity. It took nearly everything they had to keep Voyager from flying apart because she was never designed to withstand this much acceleration.
By their best extrapolations, the lights pushed the ship to nearly warp 19, if it were a velocity any Starfleet engine could maintain. Federation theory stated warp 10 was an infinite speed and unsustainable. Janeway wondered what propulsion experts would say to the fact that Voyager had smashed that hypothetical speed limit nearly twice over.
"Time?" she shouted.
Paris struggled to fight the tremendous g-force to look down at his console. He clasped the sides of his console to twist the station chair a micromillimeter. "Twenty minutes, Captain," he shouted. "The longest sustained acceleration we've recorded."
"Captain," Lt. Kim shouted. "The lights are shifting to red and look."
The white viewscreen relented to reveal normal space. The ship decelerated and then drifted until Mr. Paris initiated thrusters.
Meanwhile, the Bridge crew witnessed lights turning red and then winking out.
"That's new," Janeway said, touching her chin with her fingertips. "What do sensors say, Mr. Kim?"
"It's like thousands of small explosions. Plasma gas, degenerate particles, stray electrons. Small energy discharges."
"It's as if they've died," she mused.
"But light does not live, Captain," Tuvok pointed out.
Still staring at the black screen, Lt. Kim volunteered the obvious. "Yet they're gone."
"Mr. Kim, what is our position?" Janeway said, rising from the seat. "Casualties, Mr. Tuvok?"
Mr. Kim blinked several times at the consoles. He pressed several buttons and reassessed the data, his face flushing to ghostly white.
"Captain," Tuvok replied. "No casualties are reported. However, King Conail, the Derevo and the other Vashkoi remain aboard Voyager."
She waved a hand. "First things first, Mr. Tuvok." She pivoted toward Lt. Kim and two fists found their way to her hips. "Harry?"
He shook his head and looked up, a panic could be seen in his dark eyes. It was one the Captain hadn't seen since their first day aboard the ship.
"Captain, if my readings are correct, we are twenty-five light years from our last position."
"Don't tell me we went away from Sector Zero Zero One, Lieutenant," Janeway ordered. "I do not want to hear that. I want us 25 light years closer."
"Sorry, Captain," he whispered.
"Damn." She glanced at the viewscreen and squinted at the brilliant blue hue. "Then where the hell are we?"
"There is a large debris field ahead, orbiting the moon of a gas giant planet. The four planets in this system orbit a Blue Giant sun."
"Blue," she purred, the flicker of the insatiably curious scientist peaked out. "What's the star's diameter?"
"Approximately 780 million kilometers," he whispered with awe in his voice. "It's on the cusp of engulfing one of the planets."
"If the Blue Giant were in Sector Zero Zero One," Tuvok mused, "it would nearly engulf Jupiter Station."
The blue plasma of the giant star was swirling and licking upward into the atmosphere. A small, M-class planet appeared to be a speck beside the giant sun.
"This star is in the last stages of its evolution," Janeway said.
"Though it would be fascinating to watch the death cycle of a blue giant," Tuvok said. "May I remind you that it would consume us in its explosion. If that did not succeed in destroying us, we could be obliterated by the gamma ray bursts its collapse could possibly bring or we could be dragged into the black hole created at its center."
"Oh, Tuvok," Lt. Paris teased. "You Vulcans are all alike with your sunny dispositions. Pun intended."
A ghost of a smile faded in and quickly out of Janeway's lips as she continued to study the spectacular scene. But the weight of her responsibilities kept her focused. "How much hydrogen remains in the star?"
"Fusion is slowing," Tuvok said, looking up from his console.
"Once the hydrogen is exhausted, the star will collapse," Janeway said, reminding herself of a star's life cycle.
"There's more bad news," Mr. Kim said in nearly a whisper.
The Captain peered back at him, wondering where the boyish face had gone, after nearly fourteen years. "What is it?"
"Five light years starboard will put us outside the Milky Way Galaxy." He swallowed hard, knowing the impact of his own words.
She turned back to gaze out. "Magnify viewscreen."
The Blue Giant disappeared and more stars twinkled. "Magnify a hundred times, Mr. Kim."
Palpable darkness appeared on the screen.
"The interstellar void," Tom whispered. "If we left our galaxy, we'd be hopelessly lost."
The Captain straightened herself and steeled her expression. "The edge of the galaxy would be quite an adventure, but I don't want to see a supernova up close either. Tom, hard about. Let's get the hell out of here."
"Aye, Captain," said the helmsman, his hands bouncing nimbly between the keys on his console.
Suddenly, Voyager lurched. Janeway fell to one knee as the crew clung to their consoles or the railing. "Report!" the Captain barked.
"A tractor beam—a very, very powerful tractor beam—has got us, Captain," Kim said. "It's pulling us toward the moon, toward the debris field."
"Re-route all available to the warp engines!"
"Shields at ten percent—shields are gone!"
Suddenly, the ship was engulfed in a green energy beam. The shipsystems were opened, as with a screwdriver, sparks flying. The intermix chamber of the warp core was drained of every molecule of deuterium. Inside, crewmembers were lifted like rag dolls and their bodies scanned. Then seventy-five percent of the crew just vanished, along with the ships energy reserves.
=/\=
Captain Janeway groaned, as she rolled over. Her head felt like it had been diced and boiled and then doused with one of Neelix' deliriously hot spices. She lifted her head gingerly and her nose flared at the decomposing leaves under her. She pushed herself up with her hands, peering around. It was a sweltering jungle. Cooing and ticking sounds reverberated through the trees.
The blue sun pulsated waves of unbearable heat through the thinning tree leaves. Despite the brilliance of the dying sun and the reflection of the gas giant planet nearby, it was still very shaded and dark under the tree canopy, and sweltering. She stood up, sweat beading across her brow. She unzipped her tunic and then saw movement toward her left.
The Captain reached for her phaser, but there was nothing, not even a tricorder.
"Captain? It is I, Seven."
Against all probability, a blonde beauty parted the fern-like leaves and Janeway swore she heard a symphony at the appearing of her beloved, like Venus rising from the ocean.
"Are you all right, darling?" she asked, stepping closer to visually inspect the Borg.
Seven raised her arms, submitting to the examination. "I am undamaged, though I am experiencing unpleasant sensations at the base of my skull."
"I have a headache, too," Janeway said. She rubbed her temple and assessed their location. "I think we've been transported to the Amazon."
Seven furrowed her brow and her eyes searched the vicinity. She lifted a big, rubbery green leaf. "The vegetation is dense," she replied.
The Captain touched her commbadge. "Janeway to Voyager."
The response was static. She glanced up. Through the leaves, she glimpsed the blue sun that nearly filled the entire sky while a large portion was filled with an orange gas planet with brilliant rings. "Spectacular view," Janeway, the scientist, remarked.
She looked back at Seven and touched her commbadge again. "Janeway to any Voyager crew."
More static ensued.
Janeway shared a look with Seven after they heard a macaw-like echo. Janeway looked around her feet. "I'd venture to say that we could be mistaken for lunch at any time."
"I do not have a phaser," Seven reported.
"Me neither," Janeway said, bending to pick up a fallen limb and bounced it in one hand. "But I've got a club now."
Seven lifted a brow. "Crude," she said in monotone.
"Sometimes less is more and in this case, less is better than nothing," she replied, handing another heavier drumstick of a limb to her spouse.
Seven took the rod and set it on edge, as she whipped out a tricorder.
Janeway gave her a crooked smile. "I love a girl who comes on a date prepared."
Seven looked up briefly to eye the Captain before returning her gaze to the tricorder readings and pivoting around. "I was not aware you had arranged this excursion as a social engagement for us," she replied.
Janeway shook her head. "Oh, no, darling. Believe me! If I was going to plan a nice little getaway for us, this would not be my first choice," she said, her arms akimbo to gesture to the teeming tropical forest. "In fact, it would be even make top ten."
"Ah, that is a relief. I had feared you had considered this to be our honey moon."
"Darling?" Janeway whispered.
Seven glanced up from her readings.
"If this were our honeymoon, you wouldn't be standing in this sweltering jungle," she said.
"No?"
Janeway shook her head, her eyes locked with Seven's. "I wouldn't be standing either and neither of us would be wearing a damn thing."
"The honey moon agenda sounds…agreeable." She nodded once for emphasis, earning a small smirk from Janeway, and then looked down at the beeping tricorder. "As we both have surmised, we are on the surface of the third moon orbiting the gas giant planet. Temperature is 34 degrees Celsius. Censors indicate a communication dampening field is emanating from moon's surface."
"Terrific."
"Crew signals appear to be out of range. However, water is available in that direction." She pointed in front of them. "Approximately three kilometers near a large mountain."
"Water and a view," she said, turning in the direction Seven indicated.
Janeway was about to take the lead, when a strong Borg arm grabbed her bicep. "I believe it would be wise to allow me to lead this expedition, Captain, as my Borg physiology affords me greater protection from venomous bites."
Janeway gestured for her to proceed.
"However," Seven continued. "I believe there are several procedures we should implement now."
Janeway gave an inquiring look that turned to curiosity when Seven extended her hand.
"I require your socks and underwear."
Janeway crossed her arms. "Is that a joke, Seven?"
"It was not an attempt at humor, no," she said. "In my review of jungle survival, the first order is the need to secure clothing and any item that would hinder evaporation."
Janeway's expression was dubious. "Evaporation?"
"Certain mycobacteria thrive in moist environments and induce large ulcers of the skin and—"
"Jungle rot," she said finally. "I get the picture, Seven. Thank you. But when did you study jungle survival?"
Seven lowered her gaze and her hesitation made the Captain's stomach tighten. "Eridani advised me to review Starfleet's Tropical Survival Manual."
"When?" she snapped.
Seven expected this reaction to their daughter's prescience. "Two days ago, she received a message from her Borg implant."
Janeway bit down on her molars. "Dammit," she hissed, as she slumped again against the fallen tree to remove her shoes. She dunked the damp black socks into Seven's waiting hands and then stood up, eyeing Seven as she unbuttoned her Starfleet trousers.
Seven slung a sock over each shoulder as she continued to supervise Janeway's undressing.
"Why didn't you inform me?" Janeway finally asked, shoving her pants down.
Seven's gaze went involuntarily to the sleek outline of toned thigh muscles that her spouse had revealed. Without looking up, she replied calmly: "Because you ordered me not to inform you of those events."
Janeway let her arms hang down and her head lolled back. "I know I did, Seven. I'm sorry. Those messages are such a horrible intrusion, particularly when we cannot identify the source."
"They are a source of irritation for Eridani as well, since by the very nature of being predictive of future events, the commentary are mysterious and bizarre."
Janeway inhaled deeply and blew out some air. She and Seven had had this discussion more times than she could remember. The same data was exchanged, the same emotions and nothing could be done about the messages. "It doesn't bode well for this unexpected excursion since the messages usually only appear before dire emergencies."
Seven wiggled her human fingers. "Panties," she ordered peremptorily.
"You're enjoying this," she said.
Seven lifted her chin and looked away slightly. "Not at all," she replied. "We are on an away mission for the foreseeable future and under those circumstances the Captain's body is off limits to pleasure."
Seven was about to add something but the sight of Captain Janeway's tangle of short auburn curls at the apex of her legs overwhelmed the Borg's vocal processors.
Kathryn stepped out of the intimate undergarment and handed them to Seven. "What are you going to do with those?"
Seven tucked them discreetly into her biosuit before rezipping it. "The Starfleet manual indicates we may strain water through them for our consumption." Seven's expression was straight, as if she had just delivered a dry report about realigning the holo-emitters in the Astrometrics Lab.
Kathryn wiggled her own fingers. "Where are your panties?"
Seven arched a brow sharply. "I have none."
The Captain's involuntary squeaking hiccup brought the faintest hint of amusement to Seven's lips.
Janeway's eyes darted down to peek, as if she could see through Seven's blue biosuit. "Now why would you forego your…undergarments," the Captain said, trying to infuse a bit of professionalism into a very personal discussion.
"It was a precaution, given the prophetic warning from Eridani. It is also fortuitous," she replied.
"How do you figure that?"
"Since I removed my hair follicles, my genital area…" It was not like Seven of Nine to falter with her expression. She was very exacting, even in her vocabulary.
"What, darling?"
Seven pressed her lips together slightly in the only show of an ambiguous emotion. "The regrowth of my pubic hair fuels a nearly overwhelming need to scratch."
"You're…itchy?" Janeway said, with a vague laugh in her voice. "Down, ah, there?"
Seven looked away from Janeway's mocking expression. "I am," she said. "An unwanted secondary effect to prove my argument with you."
When Seven looked up again she caught Janeway staring intently at her groin. "The rough material of my biosuit provides sufficient…friction…" Seven became dismayed when her spouse groaned. "Is the discussion of the unfortunate side effect stimulating your arousal, Kathryn?"
Janeway frowned. "No! Of course, not! In the middle of the jungle, while you're lecturing me about jungle rot? Don't be ridiculous!"
Janeway picked up her club as she stood straight, her mouth working hard to keep a straight face. Any reaction she gave would no doubt put her in the doghouse with Seven and it appeared it was going to be just the two of them for a while. An irritated Borg was an invitation to misery and she had no plans to accept it.
Then Janeway paused, her brows furrowed in a question. "If you knew about this jungle excursion ahead of time, why didn't you bring a phaser?"
"Eridani strictly prohibited a phaser or any other energy weapon on this mission."
"Why?"
"The message did not indicate."
"Damn," the captain said, with a frustrated expression. "I'm tired of the mysteries." She inhaled deeply to focus on the task. "Let's go find our crew."
The Captain tried hard to ignore Seven's newly bald pate as it glistened under the speckled lighting of the tree canopy. But she knew she failed when Seven's Borg hand brushed at it.
As they began to pick their way over vines, fallen trees and other vegetation clumps, Seven easily severed offending limbs in their path, more for Kathryn than herself.
"So are you going to tell me what possessed you to shave your head?" Janeway asked.
Seven swiped at branch, uprooting the main plant in the process of her disproportionately destructive sweep. She glanced back at Janeway briefly before replying: "Are you going to tell me what possessed you to extract your discolored hair follicles?"
Seven heard Kathryn sigh and they hiked in silence, except for the occasional bleating of jungle creatures that seemed to be following them. Every so often, the Captain would activate her commbadge to communicate with any other crew who may be in the vicinity. Static was always the only response.
After half a day's walk, Janeway plunked down on a fallen tree truck after brushing at some of the fungus growing on it. She hoisted her ankle up on a knee, removed the boot and massaged her foot. A blister was forming just below the big toe and at the heel.
"How far would you say we've walked?"
"One kilometer."
Janeway looked away to hide her discouragement.
"Distance is difficult to achieve through the dense vegetation of a jungle."
"What time is it, anyway?"
Before Seven could answer, the Captain's stomach growled. The Borg responded with a faintly inquiring look that Janeway ignored. "It is eighteen hundred hours."
"Already?" The Captain circled, looking up as she did. She nearly stumbled until Seven took her arm. "It still looks like noon!"
"A blue giant sun, particularly one so large will emit more light than a yellow giant," Seven said with a tone that suggested that she knew her spouse knew this.
"Couple that with the reflection of the Saturn-like planet and we have daylight all day and night."
"And heat," Seven said. "You require fluids. And sustenance."
"I require coffee," she retorted. "And a strawberry Danish." Janeway closed her eyes and hummed for a second. She snapped them open when Seven released her.
Seven had stepped closer to one of the tree trunks, examining it closely.
"Are you going to summon water from a tree trunk?"
In an agility that astounded the Captain—but shouldn't have given their antics in bed—Seven of Nine leapt up and gingerly gathered large, elephant-ear-like leaves. With her legs tightly wound around the tree trunk, she sopped up some moisture found on the underside after sampling some.
She handed the Captain a dripping black sock. "Drink this."
The Captain grimaced. "You're kidding, right?"
"I do not jest about survival," the Borg replied. "Drink."
"You should have brought your panties along for me," the Captain noted before tipping her head back.
By the time Seven replied, the Captain had begun to squeeze the sock over her open mouth.
"You are aroused, Captain."
Janeway began to cough and sputter, pounding her own chest as her face turned a deep red.
"You disagree with my assessment?" Seven asked.
"No! I disagree with my sock. This is the worst tasting water since my Academy days when the cadets had to drink runoff water from a smokehouse during a survival exercise!"
"You require more," Seven said, holding out her hand.
"Seven of Nine!" the Captain growled.
Seven dropped her hand and tipped her head. It was not often that Kathryn Janeway raised her voice. "Yes?"
"I am not a doddering old fool—yet! I'll get my own damn water!"
Seven watched with growing alarm as the Captain made two attempts to climb the tree. On the third attempt, she succeeded in sopping up enough for both socks. She shimmied down and handed one to Seven. "With my compliments," she said through a wheezy pant.
Seven was impassive at the hint of salty in the water but the Captain screwed up her face and hissed long and low from the tangy fluid.
The damp socks were tied to a belt and allowed to air dry as they restarted their trek. "I can't believe we haven't run into anyone?" the Captain said after failing to reach a crewmember on the commbadge.
"It is a very large moon, nearly the size of earth."
"Why do you think we're here?"
Seven looked around. "I do not know nor do I have sufficient data to extrapolate. I do wonder if is this the destination the lights intended all along?"
"In the North American culture where I grew up," Janeway said. "Light is considered good. Perhaps it was my own prejudice to assume their benevolence—well, lack of overwhelming malevolence would be more appropriate."
"We shall return to the ship, Kathryn."
The simple statement of faith from her spouse filled the Captain with a renewed sense of direction. And the next thought filled her with a renewed sense of urgency: "Do you think the children are all right?"
Janeway saw Seven hesitate only slightly as an clubbed arm came down to clear the path. "Eridani was clearly warned of these events and is adequately prepared."
=/\=
Dani Janeway opened her eyes to cold darkness, her stomach lurching as she floated inside the U.S.S. Voyager. She reflexively flung her legs and arms out to anchor herself, making her body pitch forward and spin as she hovered above what she thought was the plating. Not only was artificial gravity gone, but so were lights and the heat. Even emergency lights were exhausted.
She kicked out her legs in an effort to find something to grab. The reaction only propelled her back, where she slammed into a bulkhead and moaned. Despite the blow to her head and torso, Dani managed to grab some scaffolding to steady herself.
"Mom! Are you here?" She listened and the silence was overwhelming, especially for someone accustomed to the hum and tick of the ship.
The last thing she remembered was her Borg mother stepping into their quarters, when the red alert klaxon sounded and the rocking began. They were both seized by a strange force field. When Dani awoke, she was alone.
She fumbled and floated toward where she thought her parents' quarters were to pry open the door and pillage the phasers and flashlights from the secret compartment she wasn't supposed to know about.
"Now for the environmental suits on Deck 5 near the escape pods," she murmured.
Then she propelled herself along the bulkheads toward a Jeffries tube. Leveraging the hatch was difficult in zero G, especially in falling temperatures that were freezing the unlocking mechanism.
She reached behind her back and whipped out a phaser, aiming it carefully. The blast kicked back sparks she hadn't expected. In her efforts to avoid them, she careened back, spinning wildly in every direction. She was barely able to stop the three-dimensional gyrations in time to vomit her breakfast. Globules of already-digested Mulordia eggs spun around her and Dani tried to avoid running into them. But in doing so, she fell into another tailspin and teetered head over heels into them. The globules and accompanying odor clung to her Academy gray suit and she cursed a blue streak.
Finally she wiped her mouth, tucked the phaser back and entered the Jeffries tube. Navigating down in zero gravity was the easiest thing she'd done and she emerged onto Deck 5. The environmental suits fit length-wise, but her lean bones could hardly fill it out. But she was able to walk when she engaged the magnetic boots. She attached the helmet, only so she didn't have to carry it and engaged the oxygen. The warmth of the suit seeped slowly into her bones. But the stench of herself was unbearable, so began to breath through her mouth.
She stuffed a few other suits, along with other supplies into a backpack, and began a trek to find her parents or other members of the crew. "Maybe I'll even feel lonely enough to look for Shannon," she said to the empty corridor. Dani laughed, but only to fill the void. She'd give anything to have her sister with her.
=/\=
Janeway was leaning against a large rock while Seven loomed over her. "We must eat." Seven's tone was sharp.
Despite the hunger pangs, the Captain eyed Seven's idea of their meal. It was a long, green snake caught on a tree limb in front of them. "I can wait," she assured her spouse.
"Pips," Seven said through clenched teeth. "What were the contents of your last meal?"
The Captain wiped her mouth with her forearm. "Ah, coffee."
Seven crossed her arms.
"Mulordia eggs benedict that Dani made."
Seven's eyes narrowed menacingly.
"That I didn't eat because of the Vashkoi diplomatic function," she admitted reluctantly.
"Lunch?"
Janeway grimaced, shaking her head. "Coffee."
Seven arched a brow. "Inadequate, Kathryn."
Janeway's stomach growled on cue.
Kathryn threw her arms up in surrender. "Fine. Let's dine on alien reptile."
Seven retrieved a Starfleet-issue knife she had fashioned from flint stones. She turned to face her prey, searching the perimeter for any other snakes.
"Be careful, Seven," Janeway called.
"I shall, Captain."
Before she had even finished speaking, Seven's Borg hand lashed out, capturing the creature by its neck. It immediately coiled its muscular body around the length of her arm.
"Oh, shit, Seven! That thing is too big!"
In the blink of an eye, its severed head—sharp white teeth poised for a strike—lay on the ground in front of her. Seven kicked it away from her. "Do not touch the head. Despite being severed it may still have enough reflex to bite."
To prove her point, Seven prodded with her club. The teeth clamped down on it instinctively.
"Did I ever tell you that my parents were traditionalists?" Janeway asked, staring at the snake head.
Seven spared a moment to consider her garrulous wife. There were few predators that could make her flinch. Reptiles clearly were one such.
Seven began to try to uncoil the body, but it kept rewrapping itself. "Can you assist me, Pips?"
Janeway reached out to touch it and pulled back. She inhaled deeply and frowned. "It smells bad." She grabbed the tail and began to uncoil it from Seven's arm.
"The musk of its scales serve as a deterrent," she replied. Seven nodded to stumps on its side. "Vestigial limbs. That could be put it within the Phylum of—"
"Seven!" Janeway finally managed to shout. "Please. Do. Not. Classify. My. Dinner."
"Very well," she replied reluctantly. "But perhaps it is the last of its kind and we have hunted it to extinction."
"This sun is about to blow. It was crawling dead anyway."
As Janeway held it tightly with both arms, Seven began a long cut down the length of its body. The body tried to twist away from the knife. "How can it fight us?"
"Instinct," Seven said through gritted teeth.
Seven continued to cut the skin when Janeway fell to her haunches.
"Oh, dear," she said. She pointed to the exposed carcass on the ground, the white meat laid open.
Seven squatted beside her and she frowned at the white worms slithering inside what had been the snake's intestines.
"Unfortunately, those are parasites," Seven declared.
A vague sound of disgust gurgled in the Captain's throat. "This is why I am not a traditionalist. I prefer a well-cooked roast straight from the replicator."
Seven glanced up at her once. "That may also explain why you needlessly char the flesh of your dinner."
Janeway crinkled her nose at Seven. "You never complained when we were on Gweelee."
"Your cooking then was…competent," Seven said, resting her chin on her bicep as she studied a petulant Captain.
"Maybe I was trying to impress you." Janeway's crooked smile flashed brilliantly. "Did it work?"
"Yes," Seven said, pecking Janeway's nose before rising to her feet. "Despite the legends of your culinary calamities, you were a remarkable…housewife."
Janeway gave Seven a playful look of warning that curled the Borg's lips just so. Seven returned her study to the dead serpent.
"So I guess we'll have to eat vegetarian tonight."
"No," Seven said, using her knife to scrape the offending parasites from their former host. "I shall clean the flesh and then ensure that it is sufficiently fricasseed."
=/\=
As Dani clomped by sickbay she heard the faint crying. She engaged the magnetic lock of an emergency hand actuator and pried the door open. Like the rest of the ship, it was consumed in cold darkness. The helmet lights brightened sickbay as she searched it. She gasped to see the source.
A shivering Merkit was hovering helplessly over a biobed. She shrieked when the light beam fell on her.
Dani unfastened her helmet and removed it. "Merkit! You're okay. You're safe. It's me, Dani."
Dani reached up, tugging her down and into an embrace that was awkward but gratefully returned. She felt the woman curl her legs around one of Dani's. The vulnerability of that touched Dani profoundly.
"I knew you would come for me," Merkit whispered as she leaned up clumsily to kiss her.
Dani smiled as she tipped her head as far as it would go in the EV suit. But her smile faded when Merkit chastely pecked her forehead. Then Dani's smile vanished completely when the woman pulled back and grimaced.
Merkit crinkled her nose. "What is that stench?"
Dani frowned and pulled back unconsciously, releasing Merkit, who began to float up. The woman shrieked and Dani lunged forward to catch her hand. "Sorry," she whispered. "I, ah—that stench is me."
Dani took Merkit's smaller hands and pressed them to the edge of the biobed. "Hold on here. I have to get another EV suit."
Dani turned away, struggling to retrieve the backpack contents.
"What happened?" Merkit asked from behind her.
"I got sick when I was trying to open a door lock, well, I mean I started spinning wildly and well, let's just say I lost my breakfast."
"I thought you were born in space."
Dani shrugged, through the reaction was hidden by the overlarge suit. "Yeah, so."
Dani finally managed to free the EV suit and handed it to Merkit. When the dark almond eyes found hers, Dani felt a burn along her face and ears. She clamped her jaws down and forced herself not to look away.
"Put this on so you can walk about the ship."
Merkit lifted the heavy white garment and looked puzzled. "Is this what you have on?"
"It's a suit with magnetic boots and a heater inside."
The last feature perked up the princess and she began to unbutton her long silk tunic.
"You can leave your other clothes on."
Merkit nodded once and attempted to move away, but the ungainly motion nearly sent her spinning overhead again, until Dani caught her. "Whoa, there," Dani whispered. "Do you need help?"
Merkit shook her head. "No, I believe I can manage."
Dani stared at her a long moment before turning around. "Then I'll be checking to see if there are any systems still receiving power here while you do that."
Dani clomped to the Doctor's office and tapped a console button with a gloved finger. Nothing. "You'd think this console was a girl," she berated herself quietly. "The Dani touch—turn anyone or anything off in a five parsec radius."
"Did you say something?"
Dani spun around to find Merkit in the white EV suit. She filled it out, but extra material gathered in the woman's arms and legs. "You're done already?"
"I don't know how to put the helmet on," she said, thrusting it up.
Dani reached for it but let her hand drop again. "Do you want me to help you?"
She nodded regally with a faint smile. Dani clomped over, taking the helmet gingerly from her grasp.
Dani fastened the helmet adjusted the forearm controls and switched the lights on. Then she reapplied her own and spoke into it. "Let's go," she said with authority.
"Where to?"
"Cargo Bay Two."
"What's there?"
"My friends."
Merkit stopped, the bang of her boots on the metal floor ceasing.
Dani's entire body slowly turned to look at the woman. "Why did you stop?"
"Because! It's not a time for friends! It's a time to locate my father, or Grizier!"
"Oh? What do they know about Voyager?"
"What about the Captain?"
"I don't think there are any adults here, Merkit."
"How do you know?"
Dani looked away. She knew because she'd received telemetry from her Borg implant. Green text had burned across her visual centers. She knew a lot, if the text was to be believed. "I've just traveled through two decks and seen no one."
"That explains nothing," Merkit said imperiously. "You are a child and perhaps—"
"Look, princess. I can't waste our energy looking for them. My friends—all children—are the only ones present on this ship."
"I'm an adult, Dani. How do you explain me?"
Dani's face flushed. "I don't know," she replied.
"You don't know?"
"We're wasting time."
"I'm the adult here. I think we should go find my father or at least the Captain."
Dani shook her head. "No, Merkit."
Dani guessed by the incendiary glare she got from the princess that she rarely heard that phrase. Well, tough. "I know what I'm doing!"
"You're a child—a devious child, but a child nonetheless."
"Hey! You never asked me how old I was!"
"You never told me you were so young!"
"I thought we were the same age!"
"You tower over me! How could you possibly think that?"
Dani inhaled deeply, the helmet fogged slightly from her exhalation. "This is stupid. I'm not going to argue with you now. We both made mistakes—"
"Yes, very big mistakes," Merkit snapped.
Dani's face hardened. "I know what I have to do here, Merkit." At the princess' questioning gaze, Dani thought briefly about how to convince her. Decision made. "I get messages about the future…."
The look of alarm on Merkit's beautiful face stopped her telling her anymore. "Are you crazy?" the princess whispered, taking a loud, clomping step back.
Dani closed her eyes briefly, moaning ever so softly. "Look, I'm going to Cargo Bay Two. You can stay or you can follow. It's up to you."
Dani turned and disappeared around the corridor, leaving Merkit in dark sickbay. She sighed relief when she heard a double-time of clomping behind her.
"If anything happens to me, I can assure you that you will be punished," Merkit hissed. "Severely."
Dani kept walking but rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, I think my sentence has already started, princess."
=/\=
It was nearly twenty hundred hours, but the yellow sky looked like late evening. Under the dappled shade of the jungle, the shadows were deeper and the crackling fire illuminated the makeshift camp that Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine had made.
Over the popping and crackling fire cooked white meat hanging from prong sticks. Seven touched some of the meat with her Borg appendage. "I believe your dinner is complete." She leaned over and took some strips of meat, placing it into a bamboo like cup.
She nodded for Kathryn to sit, and then offered her spouse two bamboo cups. One filled with water from the tree canopy and the other with cooked snake.
"Thank you, Seven," the Captain murmured as she gratefully accepted the cups. She took a sip of the water and murmured her appreciation. "I think I like the water much better without the smack of my sweat."
Seven served herself as the Captain gingerly positioned a chunk of meat between her fingers, sniffing it.
"It smells good," she whispered.
"Thank you," Seven said sardonically, earning a faintly curled lip of the Captain.
"Do you think it's done?"
Seven sighed and reached out a tore a good piece of it off of a prong. She popped it into her mouth. She chewed laboriously and swallowed. "It is edible and parasite free," she declared, as she stood with her own portion.
"You're piece was parasite free but I doubt you could certify the entire buffet here," Janeway pointed out.
"Whatever parasites that infest your intestines may be removed when we are reunited with Voyager."
The Captain's face contorted. "That's not very comforting."
"It was not meant to comfort. It was a statement of fact."
Janeway slowly brought the hunk of meat to her lips. Once it was in her mouth, she closed her eyes and hummed through several chews. "Darling, this is divine."
"I'm gratified you are pleased."
Janeway patted the ground next to her and Seven took up the assigned seat, placing them shoulder to shoulder. "Seven," the Captain said around a mouthful of snake. "I'm sorry."
Seven froze, her hand midway to her mouth. She turned slightly to face the Captain. "For what do you apologize?"
"I've been a stubborn old fool."
"In what way?"
"My hair, trying to show you I could get us water, too…" Janeway gestured with her thumb behind her. "Have you ever considered our age difference? I am twelve years older than you."
"Twelve years, seven months, three weeks, five days, ten hours, twenty-two minutes and forty-two seconds, if Starfleet records can be trusted to be that precise."
Janeway lifted her brows and tasted her own mouth for a moment. "I'm aging, Seven."
Seven furrowed her brows. "We all age, Kathryn. Since we married, I am seven years older, as you are."
Janeway let a finger trail her wife's jaw line. "But you, my darling, do not look a day over twenty-eight. Meanwhile, I look exactly my age or more."
"It is my Borg physiology."
"I know that's a part of it, for you. But me, my memory isn't what it once was. I'm slower—you have noticed that you've won our last two velocity matches, haven't you?"
Seven arched a brow. "I surmised that I was improving, not that you were degenerating."
"Well, thank you for that. But the fact remains, we are stranded in the Delta Quadrant. The long-term population estimates that I commissioned show a bleak future—"
"What sort of bleak future?"
"We can barely sustain our current population on the ship, yet it is far too small to outfit the ship with a large enough crew. The ship is ready to fall apart at any second."
Janeway took Seven's forearm in her hand, rubbing her thumb along the strong bones. "I am aging much faster than you, Seven. It is very likely I will die before you."
Seven's face darkened. "I had not—I had not considered the possibility."
The forlorn expression overpowering her wife caused a pang deep in Janeway's heart. She reached over, cupping the back of Seven's head and brought their foreheads together. "I'm sorry, Seven," she whispered with a crack. "This is why I didn't want to share this…this darkness."
Seven let her water and food cup fall as she pulled Janeway close. "I am your wife, Kathryn Janeway. I promised to share everything with you, including your burdens. It was not right for you to keep this pain from me."
Tears spilled out from stormy gray eyes. "Oh, Seven, I'm sorry."
Their lips met in mutual comfort, tasting the salt of tears.
They both heard the snap of limbs too late. When they looked up, there was a phaser barrel pointed at their heads. Holding it was a suited Malon, with dark circled eyes and a wide nose. His head was covered in large pustules, some leaking white fluid.
"How touching," he rumbled. "But you've never considered that you both could die!" His callous laugh echoed through the jungle.