1-02 Kidnapped
In which Captain Janeway and several senior crew find themselves as 'guests'. The Colonel proves direct action can be beneficial and Seven of Nine learns human emotions and wishes she hadn't...
Disclaimer:- Characters in this story are factitious, no resemblance to real people is intended or should be taken. Voyager and all characters (except the Colonel) are copyright Paramount Studios.
The storyline and the Colonel are my own.
Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail story@rgower.plus.com.
This is the second story of a sequence. If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway.
This story is rated PG
©R Gower 2000
It had been two weeks since the Colonel had been accepted as part of Voyagers crew. He was finding ship board life difficult to adjust to, especially its reliance upon the high tech equipment. Fortunately for him the people he shared the ship with, had proved to be open and friendly, they had happily helped him when he ran into problems and smiled when they explained what he had done wrong. Especially Seven of Nine, who had assumed the role of his guide and mentor, not that she had smiled yet, he regretted that.
The story of how he had ended in the Delta Quadrant had circulated amongst the crew very quickly, and they had been scared of him at first, his strict politeness and formality made him appear remote. But as they picked up the courage to approach him, or if he approached them, they found that whilst still polite and formal, he was also prepared to talk with them amiably and intelligently and help them if he saw they were struggling, it put them at their ease. They found the Colonel's efforts to understand their world amusing, and the determined approach that he demonstrated in attacking each problem, no matter how small, impressed them.
He had now established a consistent routine. He would wake at 5:30 AM as he had done every conscious day of his life, then partake of a full hours heavy physical callisthenics. He had acquired a number of items from around the ship to assist him, and his muscles had now toned themselves to their previous firmness and resilience. He had noticed to his annoyance that he had put on some weight due to the relative easy pace on the ship, he was determined not to let it ride.
At 6:45 he washed and dressed, ready to take breakfast on the mess deck when Neelix's canteen opened at 7:00. He had also made a point of using the mess for all his food requirements. Whilst most of the crew would have preferred to use replicators for their food, he preferred Neelix's fresh food for all its imperfection, to the synthetic perfection of the replicators. He had become friendly with the little Talaxian, because of this preference and they often discussed different recipe preparation tips.
After breakfast he took some more exercise, generally in the form of a jog around the ships decks, familiarising himself with every possible route from place to place. Several crew members had taken to joining him for his 'daily gallop' as he called it, and it was not unusual to see six or seven of the crew charging after him, careering down the corridors.
He then joined Seven in Astrometrics for the days lessons at 9:30.
Today started as usual.
"Good morning Colonel," chimed Neelix as he saw him approach, "Your usual?"
"Please, with possibly a couple of slices of toast, burnt to a frazzle one side and untouched the other? Like yesterdays," he suggested, it didn't do to allow the chef to get away with everything.
"It was an accident!" protested Neelix, "I was distracted, my god-daughter was with me."
He took his plate to a vacant table in the corner of the mess, he needed to think, Seven had threatened to test him on his knowledge of gas clouds that morning.
"Hello, I'm Naomi Wildman, are you a monster?" a voice interrupted him.
He looked around, looking at him earnestly was a blond girl of about six, four feet tall with four nodules on her head.
"Not that I'm aware off," he replied, putting his spoon down to allow his attention to focus on the child, "What do you think?"
"I think you look awfully big," the girl answered coyly as way of reply, implying that size was a factor.
Amused he slid of his chair to sit on the floor in front of the youngster, meeting her eye to eye.
"Do you know what makes people big?" he asked.
The girl shook her head.
"It's not how they look, it's what they have here," he tapped her chest, "In the heart."
"Now, who do you think is the bigger of the two, the big sad giant sat on his own in the corner, or the little girl who came to talk to him?"
"Me," she giggled, "Your funny."
"It's been a long time since I was described as that!" he admitted.
"People say, that you kill people?" she questioned serious again.
"Sometimes, if it is necessary to protect yourself and your friends," he said slowly.
"Are you my friend?"
"I am friends with anybody who wants to be my friend."
"And if they're not you kill them?"
"People are allowed their opinions, it is only when they try to impose their opinion on others that it becomes a problem," he answered.
"Are you friends with the Borg Lady?"
"You mean Miss Nine," he corrected her, "Yes I'm fond of her, she's my teacher."
"I have to go to school too, perhaps you should come to my lessons as well," she piped.
"Perhaps I should, I might understand them," he laughed.
"My lessons today are with the Doctor, on cell structure."
"Ah, in that case I probably won't," he admitted, "It is not a subject we covered in my day.
"Now with your permission, I think we had better return you to your mother, perhaps you will introduce her to me?" he said getting up and taking her hand in his fingers.
She giggled and led him to the table at which her mother sat nervously watching her daughter talking to the tall soldier.
"Mummy, this is the giant, but he thinks I'm bigger here," she said proudly banging her chest, "He's my friend."
"Colonel Samuels, at you service Ma'am," he bowed.
She smiled nervously, "I hope she didn't disturb you?" she asked.
"Nothing I can't catch up on later, if Miss Nine doesn't throw me out for being 'inefficient'," he paraphrased.
She smiled again, more relaxed.
"I'm Ensign Samantha Wildman, ships geologist," she said "Will you sit down, now that you've brought my stray back. Have some coffee, or do you need to go for your exercise?"
"Thank you, Ma'am. My morning activities seem to garner quite a crowd," he admitted.
"You have a charming daughter," he added as he sat at the table.
"Did you have children?" she asked.
"Not as such, Ma'am," he said carefully, "But I've dealt with quite a few, some good, some downright awful."
"You seem a natural with them," she intoned.
He shrugged, "At that age it is reasonably easy to make an impression, it's when they get older that it gets difficult to pick the right tone to get your message across."
"Now I'd better go, or I'll be late for class," he drained his coffee, and grimaced, "Neelix's coffee doesn't get any better. Thank you for accepting me at your table, Ma'am."
He bowed again.
Across the room B'elanna Torres and Tom Paris, watched and smiled.
"You are late for your test," Seven intoned as he entered Astrometrics.
"Sorry Miss Nine," he answered meekly.
There were times when she made him feel like a particularly slow child. She had been like this since he had kissed her a fortnight ago, thinking he was to be put off the ship. Maybe he would get her to smile one day, he thought.
She marched upto him and kissed him firmly, on the lips, wrapping her arms around him she pulled him close to her, her tongue teasing his lips, as he had done a little while ago. Before he could respond she stepped away to study his reactions. She was not disappointed.
"Miss Nine! That could be a very dangerous thing to do," he stammered, shocked by her provocative action.
"Was it not the same as your actions, when you thought you would be thrown off the ship?" she quizzed.
"Yes," he admitted still rattled, "But I think I may have had a better prefix for the action."
Her examination was tough, but after a couple of hours he put down his final PADD, with a sigh of relief. Silently she went through his answers. Finally she looked up.
"Your answer as to why a ship should not enter a high photon plasma cloud is insufficient, elaborate," she commanded.
Damn, the one item he hadn't studied last night.
"Because it is dangerous?" he suggested.
"Insufficient, elaborate," she demanded.
"Accurate though," he commented.
If she had been Miss Wilcox at the home, she would have been reaching for the cane right now. Desperately he racked his memory for the answer.
Suddenly it came to him. "A high photon plasma cloud may cause shields to fail due to overload, after which the positive charges may cause a chain reaction with the anti-matter containers causing explosion," he finished, elated.
"Correct," she said without inflection.
"Continue your studies on the mechanics and practical purposes of black holes."
She left for the daily staff meeting.
After the days lessons, still perturbed by her action, he went in search of Commander Chakotay on the bridge.
As he stepped on the Bridge, he snapped to attention and called, "Permission to step on the Bridge, Commander?" Noting the rank of the senior officer present.
Chakotay turned in surprise, "Please do, you don't often come to the Bridge unescorted? Nor do you need to ask permission to come upon it, is that another of your "Queens Regulations'?"
"Yes Sir, I'm army not Star Fleet, I can only be a guest. Therefore I need permission or an invite to step on the ship, or the bridge."
Chakotay was amused, the man lived by the Regulation, "What can I do for you Colonel?"
"Permission to talk with you, Commander. In private please?"
Chakotay was surprised, the Colonel rarely came to the bridge, let alone requested an audience, preferring to follow the channels as laid down in the 'Queens Regulations' that he followed rigourously, which meant through Seven as his notional commander, he pointed to the conference room.
"What can I do for you?" Chakotay asked, as they entered. "Are you having problems with a member of the crew?"
Crew affairs were his problem and he had sneaking suspicion he knew what the subject was going to be, Seven was a difficult person to get along with for everybody.
"Not directly, Sir," came the reply, "More with me!"
"Go on," Chakotay said, surprised and curious.
The Colonel went on to explain the happenings between Seven and himself, since he had joined.
"That doesn't seem so bad, it is good to hear Seven is responding. It could be said you led her on."
"Perhaps, Sir, but the one time I kissed her intentionally, it was as a 'Goodbye' because I was fully expecting to leave, if I had there would have been no complications, since I've avoided social interactions with her. It is not right for her to get involved with a man old enough to be her father. Hell no! an ancestor!" He exclaimed, "I'm aware that you are more liberal in attitudes than we were. But today, I could have had her over a control panel without a seconds thought, I'm not sure I could stand a second time!"
"The Doctors scans show that the nano-probes that rebuilt you, gave you the body of a man not more than thirty years, that's hardly an age of a father of a twenty-eight year old woman, and the other six hundred years are, as Seven would say, 'irrelevant', you didn't 'live' them," Chakotay pointed out.
Are you worried that you have feelings for her?" Chakotay asked.
"Yes!" the reply was simple, unequivocal.
Chakotay was amused, but hid it.
"I didn't think you could be scared of anything? What do you want me to do."
"Reassign me, even to the Doctor, at least I can't hurt him!"
'Hell, he must be terrified,' Chakotay thought. The Colonels antipathy to the Doctor was well known.
"If I reassign you, you will still come in close contact with Seven, the feelings will remain," he said mildly.
"How about off the ship?" asked the Colonel.
"I can't do that, the Captain will lynch me and with good reason, you are a member of the crew, what ever you think."
"I'll consider your request for reassignment, perhaps Tuvok can cover Tactical with you. Until then you will have to deal with your emotions as best you can," he finished.
"Thank you Sir," the Colonel, he saluted and left.
Chakotay smiled, he could not get used to the Soldiers formality, now he had found that he could be scared of the most natural things.
In her cargo bay Seven, noted in her log with some satisfaction, the Colonels reactions of shock and surprise to her kiss. She didn't note her disappointment that he had not kissed her back.
The next days staff meeting.
"How is your pupil shaping up?" Janeway asked Seven in the staff meeting.
"He is making progress, but he is inclined to being flippant if he hasn't studied the subject adequately, he is a poor student. He completed his studies on plasma clouds yesterday. On current progress he will successfully complete training to Ensign standard in 90 days," stated Seven. "He has asked to study the next part of the Syllabus in his quarters. I feel it is unsuitable, he will not see as much there as I can demonstrate in Astrometrics," she added
Chakotay stiffened uncomfortably as a double-entendre hit him.
"That's good progress, he's doing well, I failed that one twice?" commented Janeway.
"I had to make him re-answer a question on photon plasma clouds. He gave an insufficient answer, it indicated a lack of understanding."
"What did he put?" curious Ensign Kim asked.
"A Star Ship should not enter a photon cloud because, it is dangerous," admitted Seven of Nine.
Everybody grinned, it was a certain sign of somebody who had crammed revision and left items out gambling on the subject not coming up. They sympathised with the Colonel, at Star Fleet he might have got away with it, but not with the super efficient Seven of Nine.
"I would say that demonstrated a very practical understanding," claimed Tom Paris with feeling.
"It was an insufficient answer," repeated Seven defensively.
"Okay, how is he settling with the crew generally?" asked Janeway, bringing the meeting to order.
"Pretty well," said Chakotay, "His morning run around the ship has been noted, there are several people who regularly go with him, I tried myself, but had to give up half way round."
"So some of the crew is becoming fitter than they were, anything else?"
"B'Elanna and I watched him at breakfast, making friends with Naomi and her mother, I'd say he was a natural with kids," piped Paris.
B'Elanna spoke up, "He has been in Engineering several times, he's been moving power cells around for us, he even knocked up an alignment jig so that they can be placed more easily for charging, it's a lot easier now."
"The food's improved on the mess deck, since he started to give Neelix tips," commented Ensign Kim with feeling.
"His suggestions are often very practical," protested Neelix, "He takes an interest."
"So he is popular, mechanically adept, knows about food and is good with children," she summarised for them, "But they are features we don't have a great call for, so are of limited benefit to us. We need to find him a real function here. Remember he is not a simple crewman. We need to find something more suitable than a labourer."
"I know he has been testing weapons on the holodeck, it may be advisable to use his knowledge on what is his specialist field," suggested Tuvok.
"I'm listening, what have you in mind?" asked the Captain.
"We know he is a combat soldier, and has successfully combated the Borg in direct action, as such he is far more effective than security.."
Suddenly the ship rocked.
Klaxons sounded, "Captain to the bridge," a metallic voice sounded.
Everybody moved at once. B'Elanna to a turbolift for engineering. Seven of Nine waited for the rush to settle, the requirement for her services was less urgent than the Bridge Officers, besides, she doubted that the Colonel in his room would be inclined to panic.
"Report," snapped Janeway at the three ensigns manning the bridge.
"A ship materialised off our starboard beam and fired upon us. Shields are down, weapons off line, no other damage. Attempting to bring shields back up," replied the senior ensign.
"Open a channel!" the Captain commanded as the rest of the crew assumed their stations.
Before anybody could comply, she felt the fuzzy feeling of a transporter beam, taking her and her bridge crew off the ship.
They materialised in a dark room. Suddenly they were blinded by bright light. Tuvok his phasor ready, was shot by an unseen assailant.
"Put down your weapons, or you will die!" a voice demanded.
They were forced to comply. The doctor moved to Tuvok and started to examine the wound, "He is stunned only Captain, he will recover shortly."
"I am Kathryn Janeway, Captain of the Federation Ship Voyager, who are you and what do you want of us?" she demanded.
"Who we are is not important," a voice came from outside the light, "What we want, is your ship, undamaged, you are the key to that goal."
"They will not give it up for us!" claimed Janeway casually, "Can we discus the matter in a civilised way?"
"Those with you are the core of the command of your vessel, they will have little option," the voice rejoined.
There was a sound of a door opening and closing, then more general lighting came up. She looked around. The room was about 30 feet square and twenty feet tall, apart from the bridge crew there was nothing else. She admitted to herself that the voice was right all the senior crew was here, except .... She moved towards Chakotay.
"You are thinking of B'Elanna, she is a good Engineering Officer, but not a ships commander," he murmured. "I'd put faith in Seven of Nine finding us, but from there we are on our own!"
Seven stepped on the bridge, and gazed around at the empty bridge. She did the only thing she could think of.
"Colonel Samuels report to the Bridge!"
In his quarters the Colonel responded to her command, "Coming, Miss Nine," he replied.
The voice was comforting, so she waited.
He arrived on the Bridge in short order, gazing around the empty bridge.
"So they've gone for a Chinese?" he suggested.
"They have been abducted," was the reply, "I am attempting to track the course of the vessel."
"Who is left?" he asked.
"I am uncertain."
He looked around, most of the terminals were still double dutch to him, nor did he want to interrupt Seven from her course of action, just to find who had gone.
He hit his own communicator. "Colonel Samuels to Lieutenant Torres."
"Torres here, I'm afraid I'm too busy to discus how the warp drive works."
"My compliments Lieutenant, but your presence is required on the bridge."
Something in the command made her stop short.
"I'm on my way."
She arrived on the bridge breathless.
"Please, take your place Lieutenant," commanded the Colonel his back to her.
She moved to the engineering station.
"Not there!" the Colonel called, not turning around.
He indicated the Captains chair, she hesitated.
"You are the senior officer on the ship, you are now in command."
"But I'm not a Command Officer?" she protested.
"Some are born to command, most have it thrust on us. You are the senior officer on this ship, and this is not a democracy to be voted over," he growled.
"But you have the senior rank," she protested again.
He turned, she started. His face had become hard, the lips drawn and eyes burned.
"When I joined Voyager I stated that under no circumstances would I try to take command of this vessel from a legitimate commander, unless specifically requested in an emergency."
"Voyager is not in immediate danger and there is a legitimate commander. I will advise you, you may ignore the advice, but I will not command, that is what you are here for."
"Besides, I may be of more use when we find the bastards," he added in a dangerous tone.
Torres swallowed.
"Report, actions taken," she commanded nervously, still in awe of what she saw in his face.
He snapped to attention.
"Ten bridge crew have been reported taken by hostiles unknown, using what I believe is referred to as a cloaked ship. Shields are in repair, weapons off-line. Miss Seven of Nine is attempting to track the course of the hostile," he stated crisply. "Recommend, continued repair of shields and weapons system and bringing relief crew to take essential stations, or at least someone who knows which way up this goes, it's pretty meaningless to me."
She allowed herself a small smile at his attempt to lighten the situation and the implied intention to prevent her making silly mistakes, "Very well. See to it!"
"Yes ma'am," he replied. From memory he called members of the crew to take stations.
The relief crew appeared one by one. Several he knew were inexperienced, but were the best available.
He moved to her side and murmured, "At least two of these crewmen are as green as grass, stamp your authority. They need you to be absolutely confident and decisive in every action and decision no matter what happens, remember that and you'll do fine."
She nodded nervously.
"I have identified the ships ion trail," announced Seven.
"We are being hailed, Lieutenant." this was from Ensign Carver at comms.
"Captain!" rebuked Torres, "Senior Officer on a Star Ship, when the designated officer is unable to take their position or give commands is the Captain, Ensign, don't forget it."
"Yes, Captain," was the chastened reply.
The Colonel smiled at Torres, restoring her flagging confidence.
"We are being hailed, Captain. Voice only."
"Put it on." She could do this.
"Crew of the Star Ship Voyager," it began, "We have your senior officers, we are not hard people, so we are prepared to trade them for something we need, we will call again in due course."
It finished.
"Recommend scanning for source and not replying at this moment Ma'am," the Colonel put in quickly, to prevent a reply being sent.
"Scan signal for source!" she ordered.
"Signal is a wide band general broadcast in this sector," was the reply.
"Being bounced around so as not to show their position which is wise, not replying means that they don't know where we are either which is just as wise," the Colonel commented.
"Unfortunately they don't have Miss Seven of Nine as a bloodhound," he continued.
She raised an eyebrow at them in recognition.
"Configure a probe as a relay and make it look like the ship, we'll drop it here, then they won't be able to track our signals," she commanded.
"Yes Captain, probe away."
"Captain to Engineering, engage the warp signature dampers," she could make her own decisions.
"Aye Captain," came the reply.
"Set course to follow the enemy's trail, warp one," she commanded.
The Colonel nodded, she had settled, she'd be fine now.
Seven chimed in again, "The trail leads to the fifth planet in system Z55432A," she hesitated for a moment, "Captain," she said at last.
She continued, "The planet is 'M' class, it has two small moons in close orbit."
"I shall map the planet from Astrometrics."
She turned to leave.
"I'll accompany you Miss Nine," announced the Colonel. "Captain?"
She nodded an agreement, but her confidence left the room with him.
"Was it necessary to designate her Captain?" asked Seven as they took the lift to Astro Navigation.
"I believe so, she had to realise that she has total responsibility for the ship if the worst happens, and the crew have to know that as well," he explained.
"You will say that at the Courts Martial?" Seven asked.
"She is scared stiff, she needs confidence, but not her usual gung-ho nature. If Janeway acts like that then I have mis-read her from the start."
The ship was brought into a high orbit, masked from the surface by one of it's moons.
"I've located their ship and encampment," Seven declared to the small party in the conference room.
They looked at the map on the display board.
"How many?" asked the Colonel.
"One hundred twenty-two life forms, not including the Captain and other crew members," she intoned.
"They have deployed dampers around the camp, we cannot focus on their comm' badges, we are unable to beam them out."
"We may have to do this the old fashioned way," commented the Colonel.
"Go in phasors blasting you mean, it is too risky," claimed Torres, she was feeling her position.
Turning to her the Colonel said, "That may be this centuries method, but I was thinking more Twentieth Century Commando, in and out quietly."
"Explain?"
He started, "Use a shuttle to beam me down here," pointing to the map, "It's about a sixty miles from their base so they won't detect anything. It will take me twelve hours to reach this ridge about two miles from the camp and rest. It appears that they have neglected to put up a guard, a fatal mistake. Keep Voyager masked until called. If all goes well, I will go in during the night, distribute new communicators and blow the disrupters and everybody beams out safe and sound."
"If they start making demands, stall them as long as possible, insist on hearing from each crew member in turn, tell them the ship is too complex for them to handle given their low level of technology, you need to find manuals, anything, but don't threaten them until it is essential."
"Sounds simple, what if it goes wrong?" she asked.
"Then somebody learns how to die, but Captain Janeway will be safe I promise. I've been doing this sort of thing for a lot longer than those clowns down there, from both sides" he said simply.
"Very well, we'll do it."
"I'll be ready to go in twenty minutes, Ma'am."
"I will pilot the shuttle," said Seven.
The Captains crew settled down to wait. A thorough inspection of the hold they were in had shown no obvious means of escape, and their captors had offerd no further communication since their arrival.
Tuvok came to his senses slowly a couple of hours after being shot.
"How are you feeling?" The Captain asked.
"I will recover fully, Captain," he replied calmly.
A sudden shuddering and heavy thump heralded the ship landing. A few minutes passed then they were plunged into darkness again. A door opened in the wall and a bright light shone at them.
"Walk slowly towards the light," an amplified voice instructed.
"Who are you?" The Captain demanded again.
The voice ignored her, simply repeating it's instructions.
Shrugging she led her party towards the light as instructed. As they emerged blinking into the light they were immediately caught and shackled, then pushed towards a large low building. The short walk gave them the opportunity to examine their captors. They were short and swarthy humanoids, hairless and dark skinned.
Unable to resist they were finally thrust unceremoniously into a new cell.
"At least they don't appear to want to kill us," suggested Chakotay, looking around the new cell. It appeared to be about half the size of the ships hold, and was similarly devoid of windows, furniture, or any other means of escape.
"If only they would talk to us," fumed the Captain, "Then perhaps we could come to some form of agreement, This is too dramatic to be successful."
"They think they have all the cards," pointed out Chakotay quietly, "They may be right."
"I will not give them the ship," she protested hotly.
"We haven't got it to give to them," he observed.
They settled into silence, finally she whispered in alarm, "There's something else in this room, I felt it run across my hand!"
Somebody screamed, "Rats!"
Everybody was up on their feet in a trice, desperately stamping their feet to frighten the rodents that were suddenly scurrying around them away.
"I'm not taking this!" The Captain snarled in fury and frustration.
She started to bang on the door, trying to attract attention from somebody outside. The door opened, but before she could speak she was clubbed to the floor.
"Keep quiet!" the guard demanded, closing the door again.
"You should not take unnecessary risks, you should take a security team" stated Seven as they left Voyager, "You may be damaged and will fail."
"I've thought of that, the last thing I need down there is a bunch of amateurs stomping around like a school girls outing, I am better off on my own. As for being hurt, I'm really not very good at dying when I'm supposed to."
Seven turned in her seat, and placed a kiss on his cheek, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"I may not get the opportunity to test these reactions again," she stated simply without emotion, she secretly enjoyed embarrassing this strange man.
Other than that, their short journey was uneventful and twenty minutes after starting off he found himself crouching scanning the beam down site.
"Hunter at start, all clear," he intoned into the communicator.
He set off at infantry pace to his attack point.
Aboard the Voyager, Torres sat tense, waiting.
Two hours after the insertion of the Colonel a voice came over the radio. "Voyager, these are our demands. You will move your ships to the co-ordinates 9954.301. You will then leave the vessel and move to the planet you will find there. Your Captain and crew will join you. You have six hours to comply to these conditions. After which one of your crew will be killed every thirty minutes until you comply."
"I am Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Captain of the Star Ship Voyager, who are you?" she asked.
"You may call us the Vordun." came the reply.
"How do I know that the crew are safe? I wish to speak to them!"
"It will be arranged when it is time to say good bye to them!"
"If your going to kill them anyhow, why should I comply, you may have already done so!" She sensed the growing excitement and wondered if the Captain also had them when she negotiated.
"I will not move until I hear from each one of them, alive and well," she added.
The voice of the Vordun was quiet for a moment, then said, "We will contact you again in one hour."
"Seven are you sure the crew are at the place that you identified?"
"Yes Captain."
"Have you traced the source of the signal? If they have to move the Captain then the Colonel won't find anybody there when he attacks."
"There are no other power sources emanating from the planet, they are there," Seven stated flatly.
"We could relocate the Voyager and monitor their movements," she suggested, "It can be done without jeopardising our hidden status."
"Good, do it."
"Can we advise the Colonel of our time limits?"
"I have been unable to trace the Colonel since he was beamed down," it was perturbing Seven of Nine that nothing she tried could find the soldier. "The only way of contacting him would be with a wide band signal, it would be traced."
"Captain, the Colonel was wearing his battle dress it would damp out his bio-signs," offered the junior Ensign at the pilots console.
"Thank you, Ensign," Torres answered calmly, "If we can't see him then they won't either."
All she could do was sit and wait.
"I need a coffee," she thought.
"Captain to Neelix," she could do what she wanted as Captain, couldn't she.
"Neelix here Captain?" the answer questioned everything.
She decided to be gentle. "Please, could you do me the favour of bringing coffee upto the Bridge. A lot of coffee."
"Coming right up, Captain."
The rats in their cell had gone as quickly and as quietly as they had arrived. Just as fortunately the Captain had not been seriously hurt by the assault, though her stomach and head hurt, where she had been struck. She had been sitting up getting her breath back when the door opened and six captors stepped in. They grasped her and the two people nearest to her and dragged them from the cell.
They were taken to another small room and were addressed by another unidentified person, "We are the Vordun. We know what we want," he announced in broken English, "If people give us what we want, we go as friends, yes. If we don't we kill and take it."
Your Captain has asked to speak to her crew, to ensure you are safe, before she gives us the ship. She wastes time, but we have plenty, Yes!"
He turned to a communications console and raised Voyager.
"We have three of your crew, they will speak for you crew, yes!"
He signalled to Tom Paris, who called, "B'Elanna, you're Captain now?"
"According to 'Regulations', I am," she hoped the inflection in her voice would carry a hidden message.
"Guess I should call you 'Sir' now then huh?"
"Guess so," she tried brightly.
The Vordun pushed him away and signalled to Chakotay. "How is the promotion?" He asked, trying to fathom out why Torres had lied to the Vordun.
"You know me, just hanging around for the right night, waiting for the opportunity." The reply was nervous.
Finally the Captain, "You're doing fine, is the crew behaving itself?"
"The caveman is doing what comes naturally," she replied honestly.
The Vordun went on again, "You have six hours."
"Wait, we cannot get to your location in time, your attack on us has caused a string of damage to our propulsion systems, we can't keep them working. We need at least four hours to make basic propulsion stable, another two for warp drive, you don't want a crippled ship do you?" Torres spoke quickly, keeping the panic out of her voice.
The Vordun thought quietly for a couple of minutes, then answered, "We think you are stalling, yes. We give you a five hour extension."
He terminated the the link.
The captives were dragged back to their cell again and the Captain took notes.
"She said according to 'Regulations'," claimed Tom, "It suggests that the Colonel put her there."
"Why didn't the Colonel take control, he knows B'elanna isn't a command officer," asked Ensign Kim.
"He wouldn't unless the ship was in immediate danger, it's against 'Regulations', there is something else," commented the Captain. "What else did she say?"
"Hanging around, waiting for the right night, for an opportunity, that's not B'Elanna," pointed out Chakotay.
"And the caveman is doing what he does naturally." She looked up as the sums rattled to an answer, "I think we are in for an interesting evening, I almost feel sorry for the Vordun," she announced almost cheerfully, "They are unpleasant, undoubtedly thieves and murderers, but I'm not sure even they deserve what I think is coming!"
"Captain?" asked Chakotay.
"I think the Caveman, the Colonel," she corrected herself, "Is about to demonstrate why he impressed the Klingons. He's up to something and it will be tonight""
"I hope the Colonel is as quick as he claims and as fit as he looks," Torres said to Seven.
"He is resourceful." the ex-borg replied loyally.
A hunch crossed B'Elanna's mind.
"Seven, take the Delta Flyer and beam them up, if and when they succeed."
"Captain, the Colonels instructions were for Voyager to remain here for his signal."
"He also said I didn't need to follow his advice, if I thought better. My guess is that they will try to ensure we are where they think we are, we need to be there for them to see us crippled."
"I shall comply."
"Ensign, as soon as the shuttle has launched, return us to our original co-ordinates, plus say half a light year, then set course for their co-ordinates at 10% impulse."
"Aye Captain."
She watched the shuttle containing Seven of Nine roll away to take up its station, she had made a fateful decision, she worried it was the right one.
She nodded to the Ensign in the pilots seat, "Engage, warp 3," she ordered.
"Aye, Ma'am," the Ensign replied in confirmation.
She sat down again to wait.
From the ridge the Colonel viewed the base with the night binoculars. He had memorised the surrounds from the map, but it always paid to look before you leapt. Quietly he ate a food bar whilst waiting for night to fall, he tested his night sight and prepared to move down to the camp. He tapped the communicator, "Hunter in position."
In the shuttle, Seven replied to the message with a beep.
He ran the first mile and a half at a crouch darting from one clump of cover to another, never moving in the same direction for more than a few seconds, relying upon his continuously changing shape to deceive anybody watching that it was shadows they saw moving down the slope. At 400 yards from the camp he dropped to his stomach and took a brief rest, so far so good, anybody on guard was obviously asleep. He crawling along the ground on his stomach from there, as he had done so many times in his career. He shimmied to the first building.
Slowly he lifted himself up to peer through the window. It was a billet, about forty humanoids were sleeping. Wrong one. Carefully he flitted to the next, same thing, though the inhabitants were more voluble, that helped, a little noise wouldn't be noticed.
He moved the final building, which looked like a warehouse. He slipped in unnoticed, and flitted around drums towards the low mumbling noises he heard at the rear. Two Vordun were sitting at a table, their weapons leaning against the wall. A third was leaning against the wall further down the corridor, apparently reading a book of some nature.
"Very sloppy," he thought.
He outlined a route to the table that gave maximum cover and started out. Half way across the floor he was spotted by the leaning guard. Rather than shout he scrabbled for his weapon. At twenty feet the Colonel couldn't miss even with the hand phasor and the guard crumpled, he dropped the phasor and drew his blade, the phasor was too bright to be safe to use as anything but desperate measures.
The two at the table started to scrabble for their weapons, but the Colonel was with them, two slices and they dropped to the floor. He picked up their weapons and made for the door.
"Key's," he thought, turning the fallen guards over he searched them, producing a thin metallic strip. It fitted the lock mechanism, the door opened. He was grabbed from inside and pulled in hurriedly and floored by a round house punch dealt by Chakotay.
Voyager took up the position prescribed by Captain Torres.
"Two Vordun ships are on long range sensors, approaching at sub warp speed, they have not detected us," advised the Ensign at Tactical.
"Keep our shields and phasors down," she ordered, "I want them close. Load torpedo tubes and target manually."
"Engineering, make it look as though we are having problems with main power," she called on her communicator, "Blip lights, vent gases anything, but make it look good. But I will want full power on demand, when Seven calls!"
Nervously they watched the two Vordun vessels approach to within 500 Km.
After a few minutes the Colonel recovered from Chakotay's widow making blow, to find the Captain and Chakotay kneeling over him. He rubbed his jaw carefully, "Do you mind? Here I am out of the goodness of my heart etc. And all you can do is thump me," he complained.
"We were afraid that they had come to take us to the rendezvous, they're running up engines now," said Janeway nervously. "Now how were you going to get us out."
"That's the difficult part, I'll have to deactivate some of their shields, but I think I'd better take you somewhere a little safer first, before they find they've lost a couple of people. Do not run, do not make a sound and stay with me," he commanded firmly.
He led them out of the building, around the back of the second, to the first.
"Quickly, under there," he hissed, pointing to a gap under the structure, "don't move, take these," he handed them a batch of communicators.
"When I've deactivated enough of the dampers Voyager will pull you out, I'll be covering the action."
He hit his communicator, "Hunter, target is set." And he disappeared.
Aboard the shuttle Seven of Nine shook herself from her nervous wait.
"Seven of Nine to Voyager. Preparing to pick up survivors," she passed the message on calmly, then eased the shuttle to transporter range.
Seven of Nine's call although eagerly expected by the Bridge, still managed to take them by surprise.
"Engineering. Full power to systems!" Screamed Torres, "Shields up! Carver, fire torpedoes," she fired her orders of in quick succession, "Let's frighten the bastards before they fire back."
"Single hit on a Vordun vessel," Ensign Carver shouted from his console, appraising her of the success of his manual gunnery, "Their shields are down, some light damage. They are firing!"
Voyager rocked violently.
"Hit section 5, shields are down, minor damage, redirecting power," an Ensign called the damage.
"Carver! Target both ships weapons systems, torpedoes and phasors. Give them everything, but don't miss!" Torres yelled, feeling her own excitement build up inside her.
"Aye Ma'am!" Carver responded automatically, carrying out her instructions.
"Both vessels have been hit!" he called in jubilation at the results being returned by the computer console, "Shields and weapons off-line!"
"Hail them!" Torres ordered, struggling to calm herself, as Star Fleet it wouldn't do to get too carried away and follow up the tactical advantage with the total destruction of the enemy, unless necessary.
"Channel Open, Ma'am!"
"This is Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Captain of the Starship Voyager. Go away, before I decide to destroy your ships!" She demanded hotly.
There was no response.
"They are moving away, Captain!" The joyous Carver informed her.
"Set course to collect the Flyer, Warp 3. Shields up and weapons on-line. We may run into more trouble!"
"Ma'am!" Her crew responded in chorus.
The Colonel found the first damper, and disabled it, then flit silently to the next. Seven had calculated that at least five of the nine units deployed would have to be disabled. The third was also dealt with. He now had to dash across 10 yards of open and lit ground to reach the fourth, try as he might he couldn't find a better route.
A shout came from the warehouse, the escape had been found. Without thought he dashed across the compound to the next damper.
"Miracles, not spotted," he thought.
This one was a different design to the other three, he couldn't find the 'off' switch. In desperation he pulled it bodily out of the ground, turned it over and smashed it down again. It seemed to do the trick. But he had been spotted in the act. Laser fire flashed around him.
"Bugger," he thought, diving for cover and unshipping his rifle.
He took aim at the nearest sniper and fired, not waiting to see if he hit his target, he rolled and fired at another target. The next damper was less than twenty yards away. He leapt for it. A beam hit him in the leg, he lost all feeling in it, "Still no blood he thought."
The damper was another of the difficult to turn off kind he had just met. He drew his sword again, pirouetting on his good leg he brought the blade round in a huge arc, the jolt shook him, but it killed the damper. He fell to the floor, and picked up the rifle again.
He looked up and shot at another sniper less than thirty yards from him.
He looked for the next damper, thirty yards this time, he couldn't get that far with his dead leg. From his pocket, he pulled a device, a twenty-sixth century hand grenade. Desperately he activated it, counted to five and threw it towards the last damper, then buried his head in his arm.
It exploded in a flash, the damper disappeared, so did nearly all of what cover he had.
"Voyager, NOW!" he shouted in is communicator.
He knelt up and started to fire rapidly at anything that moved, he wasn't able to run, so he would have to fight where he was, the main thing was to cover the escape of the Voyager crew..
Suddenly a dark shape flew low overhead, a series of lights flashing from it's front, and explosions flashed around the encampment.
Everything dissolved as he was beamed out.
The shuttle was cramped, the Doctor had been deactivated to make space. It was Tom Paris running a tricorder over the Colonels body.
"A couple of scratches, some second degree burns to his leg, nothing that Voyager can't handle." he said confidently.
"All things considered that didn't go too badly. Permission to come aboard, Ma'am?" the Colonel said brightly.
Seven looked at him, her implant eyebrow raised questioningly.
"You could have got yourself killed," the Captain chided.
"There was no other way of getting past the shields and keep everybody safe," pointed out the Colonel.
"You should have left us then," claimed the Captain.
"Would you in a similar circumstance?" he asked.
The Captain changed the subject. "Where is the ship?"
Seven replied, "The Captain believed that the Vorduns would check to see how badly the ship was damaged, she returned it to its original co-ordinates. I have contacted them, they will be here in less than fifteen minutes."
"The Vordun ship will be here in less than ten," called Kim.
"Can you warp us out?" asked the Captain.
"No," replied Seven, "There is insufficient power, with the ship at this capacity."
"Weapons?"
"We are unable to lock a target, I had to jettison some items to make room," Seven admitted.
"Fly at them," called the Colonel, "You know the path the missiles will take unguided, point our nose at them and shoot."
Seven considered this suggestion, then swung the ship, "Coming about for a firing solution," she called.
"Missiles away," she intoned.
"Now swing us out of here, as violently as you like," called the Colonel.
"I cannot evaluate the performance of the weapons if we turn," Seven complained.
"They'll let you know soon enough," he replied.
"If they stop shooting then you destroyed them, if you miss they'll catch us."
The firing lessened.
"You appear to have done some good," the Colonel observed. "Now keep twitching the Flyer around, think of where you would aim as a gunner and go another direction, it's called flying by the seat of you pants."
He looked at Tom Paris who was watching in amazement.
"Sorry," he said, "I used to fly aircraft and helicopters at home. Ever try hedge hopping with a heat seeker up your tail? great fun but can be terminal."
Suddenly, Voyager burst upon the scene. The Vordun's veered away with photon torpedoes chasing them.
"Voyager to Delta Flyer, clear for docking," came B'Elanna's voice. "Welcome home Captain!"
Once aboard the Captain, with Chakotay chasing her, went straight for the Bridge. Bursting into the control room, she found B'Elanna Torres in the Captains Chair, the bridge crew smiling broadly.
"Two Vordun ships came and monitored our 'repairs', they took off when we went to warp to rescue you, Captain," she reported brightly.
Janeway was impressed, "Carry on 'Captain', well done all of you," she announced to the crew on the bridge, "Now I need some food, a shower and some rest. Call me tomorrow."
In sickbay the Colonel and Tuvok were being treated by the Doctor.
"You will be happy to know," he said to the Colonel, "That despite Mr Paris's ministrations, you will make a full recovery."
"As long as I don't have to stay here," he remarked cheerfully.
"Why did you make Lieutenant Torres Captain and not yourself?" asked Tuvok.
"You know, the foundation of the Queens regulations were set down in the mid Seventeenth Century, by a combined panel of British Army Generals and Royal Navy Admirals, by standards of the time they were very gifted men," replied the Colonel, in explanation. "They laid down the rules for every possible scenario, even to dealing with unknown forces. I simply followed those rules. No land officer shall command a ship at sea, no naval officer shall command a land operation, a nice clear and logical demarcation, wouldn't you agree?"
At breakfast the next morning Torres and the Captain appeared and sat with the Colonel.
"Back to Lieutenant again Lieutenant?" he asked.
She smiled sweetly. "It was fun while it lasted, but I wouldn't like it full time, it is too stressful."
"Give it time," he said, "Command is like a drug, the longer you have it the more you need it, wouldn't you agree Captain?"
"You seem to have managed to drop it?" laughing she replied.
"I'm old enough to know better, but I don't," he sadly replied.
"I understand you had some fun as well. My compliments upon your actions, Lieutenant, you performed at least as well as I would've expected," he complimented the Klingon Engineer cheerfully, to her obvious embarrassment.
"Now, I must return to my studies, if you'll excuse me. Our delectable dragon queen, who is eyeing me with the look that says you are dead meat, has informed me that I am to sit her test on Black Holes today and I don't think a reply like, 'Ships entering a black hole are unlikely to emerge the same shape and size as when they entered' will impress."
"Sounds good to me, but I suspect you are right," the Captain laughed again.
As he left the Captain turned to her Engineering Officer.
"You did well over the last couple of days, I am as proud of you as the Colonel!"
"It was all the Colonels doing and idea's," Torres protested.
"Not all of it, you took his advice, but you also did what you thought was correct and everybody survived intact, it is a sign of a good officer."
"Knowing how to put command on scared people and getting them to accept it and perform, is the sign of a better one," said Torres with feeling.
"I think I shall have to borrow his 'Queens Regulations', then get Star Fleet to adopt it in its entirety, there is a lot of sound wisdom in there," commented the Captain with a grin.
The Colonel showered in his quarters and was preparing his uniform for the day, padding around with a towel around his waist.
The door opened and Seven entered.
"I wish to talk," she stated.
"I understand door bells are rung so that people aren't caught naked in the middle of dressing," suggested the Colonel gently.
"Your state of dress is irrelevant, I have seen your body in sickbay," she announced coolly, looking him up and down with barely disguised interest.
"But I wasn't awake then, nor was I much to look at," he pointed out.
"Irrelevant!" She exclaimed. She licked her lips as she continued to watch him. Nerves she told herself, to explain a tingle she felt in her spine.
"Okay, lets talk, please make yourself comfortable," he waved her to a chair, noticing her nervous reactions.
"Yesterday when I beamed you aboard injured, I was disturbed." Seven claimed, still keeping her voice calm and collected.
"Why? You've seen people hurt before, even after your Borg experience. Heavens I was much worse when I joined the ship," he pointed out bluntly.
"I have been trying to rationalise my feelings, they are unlike anything I've experienced since the Collective."
"Go on," He prompted, his interest was being roused.
"I wish to know more about you?" She claimed as coolly as she could.
"Where do you wish me to start?" He asked gently, "It could be a long story or a very short one."
"From the beginning," she demanded firmly.
"Please sit, while I collect some thoughts," he asked.
She did as he bid.
He sat down in another chair and began.
"Born 1943, in war torn Aylesbury, England. Parents died in a road accident in 1944. Put with foster parents until I ran away four years later, they were drunkards and often beat each other and me. Then escaped from a series of orphanages until the age of fifteen, left school with nothing, joined the army as a drummer boy, regular army two years later. Made sergeant at the age of twenty-two, commissioned 1970, made Colonel 1990, in short the army was my life and family, I don't think I took more than a week off from when I joined until the day I was married. Saw action in Egypt, Vietnam, Ireland, Kosovo, Falklands, Kuwait and a few other grizzly little affairs, averaging I suppose one action every few months. Married 1990, you know how I lost my wife. The rest you know because you've seen it."
"Did you have anything of your parents?" She asked, fascinated.
"Maternal parents, nothing at all. My foster parents, a few bruises, I never saw them again after I ran away."
"Describe your wife?" Seven demanded
"She was a Swedish interpreter at their embassy in South America. Five feet six, 110lbs, blonde hair almost white not the straw of yours. Eyes deep blue. Fine build, not as curved as you, but she was a beautiful person inside."
He stopped, remembering, his eyes watering.
"I'm sorry, do you wish me to continue?" he said wiping his eyes on the towel.
She felt a new feeling sweep over her, a strong urge of compassion. She had often felt that she was misunderstood on Voyager, that nobody had understood her, in short, she now realised, sorry for herself. Now she had a new story of misery, this time it appeared far worse than hers and in somebody she had new 'feelings' for. He had been kicked to the ground and kicked again, but had got up, started again and had survived.
She stood, as did he. She couldn't help it, she fled his quarters.
He was late arriving for his examination, silently she gave him his test, he grimaced then grinned at her as he took her proffered PADD. She returned to her consoles, but continued to watch him intensely from her station as he struggled with the exam.
At the staff meeting, she said little, even when acknowledging the congratulations for her work during the Vordun affair. The Captain watched her concerned, after the meeting she asked, "What's up Seven you were barely with us in that meeting."
"I talked with the Colonel, I asked him about his past," suddenly she sobbed.
Janeway, shocked at the sudden display of emotion from the normally impassive woman, stood and watched her, not knowing what to do.
When Seven had recovered slightly, she started again, "From his logs, I thought his life had many parallels to my own, I was interested in him. But when he went over it, it is much worse! He never had parents, apart from two years with his wife, has known no human caring emotions, the army has been his life. His life appears to consist of fighting and people trying to kill him. Without a collective to protect him he has to hide his real feelings, but they are still there and they hurt him, I made him cry, then I ran from his room. But he is so easy and friendly to people, he feels for everybody but himself, why can't I be like him?" she blurted.
"The Colonel's certainly made this girl human," she thought shocked by the outburst, "Talk of the floodgates opening. What can I do?"
"Who says you should be like him?" she asked gently, "I'm certain he doesn't and I don't. I couldn't survive two of him, or two Sevens for that matter."
Seven looked into the older woman's eye's, "You think so?" she sniffed again.
"I know so," Janeway replied.
"I don't think there is another person like him in the galaxy, nor is there another Seven of Nine, you are both unique individuals, yet you are very similar. The Vordun affair proved that, you both took each others lead and you worked perfectly together, carrying everybody with you," she continued approvingly.
"You care for him don't you?" Janeway asked intently.
"I am unsure Captain," said Seven gallantly gathering her composure. The feelings I am experiencing are unlike anything I have experienced.
"I'm not!" she said firmly.
"Would you like me to have him reassigned? Until you can come to terms with you feelings?"
"No! I shall carry out my duties as you prescribed," Seven replied firmly fully recovered again.
"Good, now go and be Seven of Nine, don't pretend to be something you aren't but think you ought to be, The Captain prescribed. If you are to change it will happen without you noticing it. If it's any help the Colonels feelings for you are as strong as yours are for him, and he is even more scared of them than you, he has asked to be put off the ship, for your protection. Chakotay said no."
"When was this?" curious Seven asked.
"A three days ago, when you kissed him. He thinks a lot of you, he doesn't want you hurt. I think you two should get together on your own without duty to worry about and work it out."
"Thank you Captain," Seven turned and walked away.
Taking hold of her own emotions, the Captain shrugged, "I'm a mother to a woman who is only ten years younger than me and a six hundred year old man, I'm getting old before my time."
"Your answers are within acceptable parameters," Seven announced, reviewing the Colonel's answers some two hours later. "We shall consider the next subject."
The Colonel raised an eyebrow, this was Seven as he knew and preferred her. He had effected to miss the reddened eyes, but secretly was distressed at the anguish that they displayed, he had a fair idea as to who had caused it. Thankfully he prepared for her next task.
"Do your worst, Miss Nine," he challenged her, smiling.
"I wish to apologise," she stated flatly.
"For what?" he asked in surprise.
"My actions this morning, forcing you to reveal your past, it upset you," she claimed, keeping hold of her voice.
"It looks as though my story may have upset you more," he suggested quietly, "It should be me apologising to you for making it sound so bleak."
"I wished to know more about you, to identify the reasons for my interest in you. I should not have asked the way I did," she stammered slightly, trying to explain her actions.
He saw her swallow and realised she was fighting distressing emotions of her own. He got up from his chair and walked over to her, gently he placed his arm around her for comfort.
"Would you like to talk? I may be able to help you identify the reasons for your distress," he offered gently, "I'm a very good listener, with a very poor memory when needed and a waterproof shoulder."
The sensation that she received with his arm around her was new and strange. Nobody on the ship had ever held her like that before. She found herself torn between the conflicting desires to pull away and to put her head on his shoulder. She desperately tried to analyse the sudden flush of emotions, in the end she did nothing.
"I'm sorry," he claimed feeling her indecision and withdrawing his arm, "That was inappropriate. But I mean what I said, I may be able to help you work out your problems."
"The Captain and the Doctor have tried," she pointed out quietly, "Why should you be any more capable?"
Again he felt her indecision, "Do you want a full resume?" he asked, "The safety of the ship and crew won't be in jeopardy if I don't appear on the Bridge or Sick Bay at regular intervals, that means I have as much time as you need, for as long as you need it and whenever you need it. Nor can anything you say hurt me, so you can be honest, you don't have to hide anything the way you would with say, the Captain."
"You believe I hide my emotions from the Captain?" She asked bewildered.
"Hide is too strong a word perhaps," he admitted, "But you can't let yourself go properly, you think she will judge you on your past and it may influence her opinion. You don't want to look weak in front of your role model, yet you find it hard to ask the questions you need to, about the things you feel you don't understand.
I don't know your past, I can't judge you on mine without putting my own head in a noose and my opinion doesn't have any influence on anybody here. We may even be able to help each other with the things we don't understand."
She felt herself sway to his gentle persuasion and simply stated arguments. He was right, she decided, there were many things from her life as a Borg that hurt to think of, but she had hidden from the crew fearing their condemnation. Perhaps she could confide them to the tall soldier in a way she would never be able with the Captain, despite her understanding nature. Perhaps he could explain the puzzling differences in attitude that were displayed towards her between the crew. It would certainly men she would find out more about the strange man that stood before her.
"Somebody or something has hurt you badly in the past, the memories still hurt you, your frightened of them but can't let go of them because you think they are damning," he claimed quietly.
He was reading her thoughts, she decided in shock.
"I can't make it go away," he confessed gently, "But I can help you come to terms with the memory, then it won't hurt anymore!"
"You are a telepath?" She queried suddenly.
He looked at her blankly, "Sorry?" He queried.
"You can read peoples minds," she explained patiently, he is a primitive,' she thought.
"Oh, I wish people wouldn't use words I don't understand," he commented.
"Suffice to say I've listened to, bullied, sometimes helped and otherwise dealt with a lot of people for a long time. After twenty years you start to understand them," he announced.
"You however are an enigma," he assured her with a smile, "I know you are frightened of some things, and unsure of a lot more, especially me. But you are also a lot bigger, braver and stronger than you realise and you 'feel' a lot more than you understand or let on. I've met people like that, but they've always refused any offer of help," he confessed.
She thought for a moment longer then announced, "I accept your offer to talk," she tried to say it firmly enough to sound decisive, but she could feel her nerves rattle the words.
"Thank you," he breathed, "I am at your service whenever you need me," he bowed low before her.
"We will start this evening," she decided, "I shall summon you!"
"Very good Ma'am," he intoned formally to match her resumed cool tones, bowing again.
"This afternoons lesson will be?" He asked.
"We shall continue our assessment of the practical purposes of Back Holes," she stated calmly.
"Ma'am," the Colonel replied, resuming his seat.
She arrived at his quarters at 7:00 PM. Nervously she rang the door chime, wondering what she was going to say and why she was there at all. He opened the door for her.
"I have come for our talk," she declared as he let her in.
"This is perhaps not the best place," he suggested with a tinge of nervousness, "A strange mans quarters is not conducive for a young woman to relax. It may have implications for your reputation."
"It is the most private place on the ship," she assured him calmly, surprised by his nervous reaction.
"As you wish Miss Nine," he sighed, "Please make yourself comfortable, may I prepare you a drink?"
"That will not be necessary and my full designation is Seven of Nine Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero-One," she responded automatically and sitting bolt upright in one of the rooms easy chairs. She looked around, a little surprised, her experience of the people on the ship suggested that given a private space they would quickly fill it with pointless bric-a-brac to make it feel comfortable, apart from the curtains he had put on the window, this room was as empty as when he had taken occupation.
"I apologise," he announced formally, colouring in embarrassment, "I was under the impression that Seven of Nine was your full name, Miss Zero-One."
He placed a carafe of water and two glasses on the side table he had placed between the two easy chairs in the room.
She tried to decide if he was making fun of her, but the embarrassment he showed on his face was self evident of the error he had thought he had made.
"I am known as and prefer Seven of Nine," she pointed out coldly.
"It would be improper for me to refer to you by a Christian name, Ma'am, I am under your instructions," he protested.
She relented at the confusion that was evident and his determination to remain formal to the status given him. "You may refer to me as Miss Nine," she conceded.
He sat in the chair opposite her.
"Where do you wish me to start?" She asked, feeling her nerves start again.
"Where ever you like, but the beginning is usually helpful," he suggested mildly, "You are welcome to leave anything out, just as you are equally welcome to leave, cry, scream or attack me if you think it helpful," he offered, "Just don't damage the curtains, I don't think I could repeat them again on the replicator," he added with a smile.
I have observed you have not replicated the superfluous items that many humans prefer to surround themselves with, she commented.
There are good reasons for that, he admitted with a grin. The main one is that the replicator and I don't talk the same language, that's why I'm rather proud of the curtains, even if the are a bit plain!
Please! I am all ears!
"I was born on Earth, and was given the name Anneka Hansen," she started, "My parents were Exo-Biologists. They decided they wished to make a detailed study of the Borg."
He lent forward quietly, listening intently to every word she uttered. As she continued her story she felt her emotions start to move. When she hesitated, feeling distress at what she was saying, he lent forward and gently held her hand in both of his, it was comforting and her story became easier to tell again.
After two hours she stopped claiming, "That is my life."
"It isn't," he corrected her gently, "You've not told me everything you want to yet, but perhaps you will wish to tell me more at some other time."
"Perhaps," she conceded, taking a glass of water, her mouth suddenly dry. He was still holding her hand gently.
"You know," he started "The Borg haven't harmed you, they have helped make you what you are. That is not a bad thing, despite how it may look to others. They have taught you to handle things that your parents alone would never be able to teach, yet they have left you with some of your parents human strengths as well," he commented gently.
"You think my parents were bad parents?" She demanded.
"No," he refuted adamantly, "I'm sure they loved you, and tried to bring you up the way they believed was right. The Borg brought you up the way they believed was correct. Neither would be the way I would choose, but who's to say what I achieved, should I ever have children, would be any better than theirs?"
"I realise that terms like pride and honour have little meaning to a Borg drone," He continued, "But you were a soldier in an army, when you look back at your experiences, perhaps you should feel a little pride in having performed your duties, even on the occasions that you find harrowing now. Those same experiences are what have helped you to adapt and operate so well on this vessel. The fact that others tell you that your actions were bad is irrelevant and narrow minded on their part. If I knew more about the galaxy I would point you at any number of races who would claim the Borg show too much compassion, I could certainly do that with some of the Earth races I've met. Some of them put weapons in the hands of children as young as five and expect them to kill, not even the Borg do that!"
"You believe the Borg are not a bad race?" She asked clumsily.
"If I was a Borg I wouldn't think I was bad because I would share their concepts of good and bad," he pointed out quietly, "I've done some of the things you described, possibly even worse. I didn't always like having had to do them, but I had to follow orders. I have human standards, to those standards they are bad and I have done bad things."
She pulled her hand away and stood, "I must regenerate," she claimed coolly, "Our talk was helpful, I will consider your comments."
"As you wish, and I am glad to be of service," he replied, also standing.
Unthinkingly he put an arm around her again and pulled her close. This time she did respond, to the attempt to comfort her, she buried her head in his shoulder, trying to maintain her composure.
"You have more to tell, I know," he whispered gently holding her close, but struggling hard against the desire to kiss away the emotions she was obviously suffering from.
"Just remember I'm always available when I'm needed."
She left for the cargo bay and her alcove.
"Seven of Nine, Personal Log," she demanded on reaching the bay.
"I spent three hours in the company of the Colonel, explaining my actions as a Borg. I am uncertain why I wished to tell him the things I did, I find the memory of them disturbing. I expected him to refuse to listen and condemn my actions as others have done, instead he listened intently and offered opinions that endorse my experiences. I believe his statements have validity."
"He is unlike the rest of the crew, he is more open in his opinions of other races and has a close understanding of human emotions. He has a more tactile response to emotion than the crew, he held my hand and put his arms around me when I was upset. It appeared to be a means of displaying concern for me, the sensations I felt were strange but comforting. I believe he will do it again when I decide to talk to him in a similar manner. It is strange but I will look forward to the experience!"
"End Log," she snapped finally, and settled herself in her alcove.
The Colonel also made up his diary, his notes were short and explicit.
"Miss Nine's confessional was illuminating and slightly distressing. She has done many things that people have since told her are bad, it's not surprising the poor girl is so ashamed of what she is, scared of what she ought to be and hides so much. I thought I had it bad! I hope she accepts the invitation to talk again!"
To his surprise the Captain joined him for breakfast again the following morning. Smiling she waved him back to his seat as he stood to attention at her approach.
"There is a rumour that Seven was in your quarters last night?" She inquired quietly.
"Ma'am," he confirmed calmly, secretly alarmed at how quickly the rumour had spread.
"She won't appreciate hanky-pankey and I'm sure she's not ready for a relationship," she teased.
"No impropriety occurred Ma'am," he assured her, "Nor do I wish to involve myself in any form of relationship with her, merely friendship. Our meeting was more of a confessional and I would do the same for anybody who needed a suitable listening ear."
"Care to share what you discussed?" She asked hopefully, "I might have an effect on the ship."
"No Ma'am, the discussion was private," he responded sharply, "If I believe it may negatively affect your ship, then I will inform you."
Stunned by the sharpness of his response, she responded curtly, "If your feelings get in the way of her duties that will be a negative impact."
"I will ensure they don't, Ma'am," he assured her, "I'm carrying out your orders to look after Miss Nine."
"You took that as an order! It was intended as a joke!" She exclaimed, shocked.
"Jokes usually start differently, Ma'am," the Colonel opined, "And you were right Miss Nine does need looking after, it is just the level of looking after that needs to be established."
"Permission to speak freely, Ma'am?" He asked quietly.
She was surprised by the request and looked at him sharply, "Request granted Colonel," she uttered.
"Miss Nine doesn't understand many of the human emotions or reactions she is experiencing, Ma'am." He pointed out. "As I understand it, since the age of six she has been without a human parent to demonstrate the physical nature of love and caring, things like touch, private confidences and easy conversation. From what she has told me of her parents, they were not exceptionally strong on that side either, preferring to root around whatever was their interest at the time, bugs or Borgs, both seemed as or more important than their child's development. She received nothing here either, when you 'liberated' her. To be honest you seem to have treated her as more of an automaton than a confused young woman trying to find her way, and without a childhood to look back to for guidance, to an extent you still do," he stated.
"I think she is forming a mistaken attachment to me because I'm the first person who has actually treated her as a real human, without thinking of her past or expecting her to simply believe everything I say."
She looked at him in surprise, "I didn't realise I did that!" She exclaimed. "Is this a result of your discussion?"
"To a large extent it is," he admitted candidly, "But there are personal observations as well."
"It affects the crews attitude to her as well, only they are worse. Perhaps that's because of what they've experienced. When you give her orders, it's as though your instructing the replicator. If she asks a question over something that confuses her, you answer as though she is a child, simply giving her an answer rather than explaining and letting her form her own opinions," he argued.
"You suggest to her that the are Borg evil, and you are correct, they do seem evil to you. But they are acceptable to the Borg and she was one. I know human races that are, or were, in my view, considerably worse than the Borg, yet they also thought they were the last word in humanity. I've even done some of the things you condemn in the Borg, only I was a volunteer and not coerced or taken over and it was in the name of humanity and democracy, perhaps you should lock me up for crimes against humanity?"
"You're saying the Borg aren't evil?" She asked incredulously.
"No, Ma'am!" He protested, "I'm just pointing out it takes all sorts to make a world or a galaxy for that matter, forcing people to believe that you are the true faith is what causes wars! Miss Nine should be allowed to form her own opinions from her experiences, just as you, I and everybody else on the ship. Not simply told what is and isn't right!"
"That what your hoping to achieve from your conversations is it? Help her form her own decisions? Your not going to sway them for her, make her like you?" Her questions were sharp and quick.
"She is far to intelligent to be like me," He protested, "I think she will find her own conclusions, they will be influenced by me, you and everybody else she meets, we may not like them but they will be her own and should be respected."
"When she does, then she will be better human than either of us simply because her breadth of knowledge will have been enhanced by what she learnt as a Borg assimilating other races." He predicted. "Who knows she might even come to her senses decide I am an egotistical bigot and refuse to talk to me again?"
"With your permission, Ma'am? It's time for my gallop." He announced.
She nodded an approval, deep in thought over his comments.
They certainly formed food for thought, she decided. She would have to pay close attention to her ways with Seven and keep a careful eye upon the Colonel's discussions. There was more to them than met the immediate eye. She wondered again how a man from so long ago could possibly understand and affect the people around him so easily
He got up and left her to speculate on the comments.