Chapter 3
Dammit! I keep forgetting disclaimers. Okay, okay - stop poking me, Paramount! - Star Trek Voyager and its storylines, related images and everything else to do with it is owned by paramount and Gene Roddenberry, the magnificent man, sniff! I'd hope he'd be proud of what I write here. Please don't sue me, I have no money (except for the two pennies I found under my tooth pillow last night) but that doesn't count. This is a work of fiction, meaning it ain't true, going to happen or will happen in the next ten years, unless of course history really does turn out like Star-trek. Thank you and enjoy!
It had been two hours since the attack. The Borg had been lifted back onto the diagnostic table with the help of Kim, seemingly unconscious. Janeway had called another meeting angrily. Kim sat back in his chair as all the senior officers heard what he had seen that morning.
"He is unconscious now, and Tom says he is fine. But I will not allow my officers to be assaulted by him." Kim looked over toward Seven. She was a beautiful woman, true, and capable of looking after herself. She was the one who had been assaulted, but she was a strong woman. What would have happened had it been him? He had frozen when he realized the phaser wasn't going to work.
The Captain leaned forward. "He is much too powerful for us to stop him if he gets out of hand. We will have no choice but to let him go. If he rejoins the Collective, we can only hope." They all understood.
There was a beep. Janeway tapped her Comm-badge. "Janeway here."
"The Borg has awakened. He's asking for you and Seven." Tom Paris' voice rang through the room, and it was obvious he was hiding something.
"On my way. Janeway out." She turned to Seven and Torres. "You two are with me. Tuvok, send six security guards to meet us outside sickbay."
She stood and Seven and Torres followed her.
They met the security detail just before they reached sickbay. Some of them were from engineering, as some of the security officers from the first attack were still recovering in their quarters.
Inside sickbay, Tom was sitting at the Doctor's table, while Tuvok had stopped work to watch. As soon as he saw them enter the room, he went back to work, while Tom stood to guide them to the table.
At the bed, the Borg was marching back and forth muttering. His face looked strained, but he was in control of himself. He stood to attention when he noticed them.
Janeway exchanged a sideways glance at Seven.
"I called you here to apologize to you for the attack 2 hours, 1 minute, 32 seconds, and 3 micro-seconds ago." His voice was cool, clipped and to the point. "The Borg in me had some control at that time, but I have now managed to control it." He turned to Seven. He looked uncomfortable.
"I believe you are the young woman I attacked? My sincerest apologies." He bowed slightly.
"Apology accepted," Seven said, using the calm tone she used most of the time. She noticed there was still the slight Borg-like quality in him, and she liked this. She noted and dismissed the emotion that came along with this thought. She felt it, and liked it, which was unlike most emotions.
She noticed Janeway was speaking to Tom.
"I don't want him escaping, Tom. He's much too dangerous. Do whatever you have to, understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
She realized that if she could hear them, then the Borg could too. She glanced at him, but all he was doing was studying her and the surroundings intensely.
"Seven, you're with Tuvok. We have to get the Doctor on-line. We can't keep Tom away from the controls."
"Yes, Captain."
"I want Tom back at his station in one hour. Understood?"
"Yes, Captain," All three said at once.
The Captain looked at the Borg, now just standing still. She looked nervous, then said, "Seven, could you join me in my ready room in ten minutes?"
She looked puzzled. "Yes, Captain."
"Fine. Get to work people."
She turned on her heel and walked out the door.
Eight minutes later, Captain Janeway stood before her huge windows to space outside. Seven walked in through the door behind her.
"You wanted to see me Captain?" She said.
"Yes, I did." She stepped down and sat down in the chair behind her desk. "I want you to ask the Borg what his intentions are. What he wants to do. You're the only other Borg on this ship, so therefore he might listen to you if you suggest him not to return to the collective."
"Was that the only reasons why you wanted me to talk to him, Captain?" Seven asked, quizzically cocking her head to one side. Janeway had to smile. So Seven had figured it out.
"Actually, no. It seems to me that he has taken quite a fancy to you."
"Captain?" Seven asked with a slight hint of alarm. "I would prefer if he took his...fancies...elsewhere."
"Oh, it just means that he finds you more interesting than the rest of the crew he's been in contact with."
"I will try my best to persuade him to not join the collective." She turned to leave and Janeway ducked her head toward her large cup of coffee and her PADD.
"And to take his `fancy' off me." She said as she walked through the door.
Janeway had to smile. Seven had a lot to learn about human language and slang. Frowning at the door, she also reminded herself to teach the young woman the meaning of "private thoughts".
As soon as Seven got to the sickbay, she noticed that the Borg was pressing his hands against the force field, and crackling electricity curled around his fingers. He had a look of a adept fascination on his face, as if he was seeing it for the first time, which was very probable. She sighed, remembering the many years it took for her to adapt to human civilization again, and she privately thought that this newer version was going to find it harder. She cleared her throat and stepped forward.
The change was instant. He looked up from the field, grinned and stepped toward her, pressing his hands, palm down, onto the force-field. His grin widened.
"Hi-ya, sugar lips. How you doing?" he drawled.
She was frankly shocked that he knew this dialect. She was very insulted, too, as he sounded very much like Tom Paris had done for the first few years of her stay on Voyager, before he married Torres.
"I do not have `sugar lips', and I'd prefer you didn't use that course language with me. Now let us get this - situation - clarified. I have been assigned to adapt you to human life, nothing more, and, personally, I think that you and I should stay as far apart from each other," she growled. "Now, any questions?"
"Just the one," he said, spreading his arms wide. "Can I use a corkscrew?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?" she inquired, also raising an eyebrow. If he meant what she thought he meant she would...
"It's just that, you're wound up so tight that for me to do anything with you would be incredibly difficult, unless I wound you down first, if you get my meaning?" he wiggled his eyebrows.
She exhaled in disgust, turned and shook her head, as Tom walked out of the Doctors office. He laughed and grinned at her.
"You too, huh? He's been doing that all the time. He seems really friendly, and, well, human. Guess we did some major damage to the Borg in the future, huh?"
She stiffened at this suggestion. Humans, doing any damage to the Collective! It was laughable.
"Where is Ensign Kim? He is meant to be-"
Tom cut her off with a wave of his hands. "He's in the holo-deck. I know, I know," he said, avoiding her glare, but he needed a break. Doctors orders. Well, filling-in doctors orders, anyway."
She sighed, and went to the computer and typed up a few things on her pad. She passed it to Tom.
"Send this through the force field, and tell him to digest it. I will return in 8 hours." She started to walk away.
"Hey, where are you going?" he shouted after her.
"I need to regenerate," she shouted over her shoulder. "Enjoy!" She chuckled at her first joke.
"Oh, dear," Tom groaned at the closing of the doors. He turned to the Borg, who just raised an eyebrow. He turned back to the doors.
"What ARE we going to do about that, huh?" he sighed.
"Captain, I refuse to work with him! He is so annoying, condescending, arrogant, stubborn -" Seven's tirade went on.
The Captain sat back in her chair in her quarters as Seven paced back and forth, ranting and raving. Only four days had passed since she had put her on assignment, and already she was in a frenzy. She had never known Seven to show true emotion other than anger, and, boy, was she showing it now!
"Seven, calm down. It's only for -" She was cut off by Seven.
"You don't know how long it will take! Sure," she said, as Janeway opened her mouth to speak, "his progress is great, but he'll pester me forever while he is on this ship! He goes on and on and on," she continued.
Oh Dear, thought Janeway. If Seven can't stand him, who can?
Terrible Chapter ending, I know, but please R+R!
Dammit! I keep forgetting disclaimers. Okay, okay - stop poking me, Paramount! - Star Trek Voyager and its storylines, related images and everything else to do with it is owned by paramount and Gene Roddenberry, the magnificent man, sniff! I'd hope he'd be proud of what I write here. Please don't sue me, I have no money (except for the two pennies I found under my tooth pillow last night) but that doesn't count. This is a work of fiction, meaning it ain't true, going to happen or will happen in the next ten years, unless of course history really does turn out like Star-trek. Thank you and enjoy!
It had been two hours since the attack. The Borg had been lifted back onto the diagnostic table with the help of Kim, seemingly unconscious. Janeway had called another meeting angrily. Kim sat back in his chair as all the senior officers heard what he had seen that morning.
"He is unconscious now, and Tom says he is fine. But I will not allow my officers to be assaulted by him." Kim looked over toward Seven. She was a beautiful woman, true, and capable of looking after herself. She was the one who had been assaulted, but she was a strong woman. What would have happened had it been him? He had frozen when he realized the phaser wasn't going to work.
The Captain leaned forward. "He is much too powerful for us to stop him if he gets out of hand. We will have no choice but to let him go. If he rejoins the Collective, we can only hope." They all understood.
There was a beep. Janeway tapped her Comm-badge. "Janeway here."
"The Borg has awakened. He's asking for you and Seven." Tom Paris' voice rang through the room, and it was obvious he was hiding something.
"On my way. Janeway out." She turned to Seven and Torres. "You two are with me. Tuvok, send six security guards to meet us outside sickbay."
She stood and Seven and Torres followed her.
They met the security detail just before they reached sickbay. Some of them were from engineering, as some of the security officers from the first attack were still recovering in their quarters.
Inside sickbay, Tom was sitting at the Doctor's table, while Tuvok had stopped work to watch. As soon as he saw them enter the room, he went back to work, while Tom stood to guide them to the table.
At the bed, the Borg was marching back and forth muttering. His face looked strained, but he was in control of himself. He stood to attention when he noticed them.
Janeway exchanged a sideways glance at Seven.
"I called you here to apologize to you for the attack 2 hours, 1 minute, 32 seconds, and 3 micro-seconds ago." His voice was cool, clipped and to the point. "The Borg in me had some control at that time, but I have now managed to control it." He turned to Seven. He looked uncomfortable.
"I believe you are the young woman I attacked? My sincerest apologies." He bowed slightly.
"Apology accepted," Seven said, using the calm tone she used most of the time. She noticed there was still the slight Borg-like quality in him, and she liked this. She noted and dismissed the emotion that came along with this thought. She felt it, and liked it, which was unlike most emotions.
She noticed Janeway was speaking to Tom.
"I don't want him escaping, Tom. He's much too dangerous. Do whatever you have to, understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
She realized that if she could hear them, then the Borg could too. She glanced at him, but all he was doing was studying her and the surroundings intensely.
"Seven, you're with Tuvok. We have to get the Doctor on-line. We can't keep Tom away from the controls."
"Yes, Captain."
"I want Tom back at his station in one hour. Understood?"
"Yes, Captain," All three said at once.
The Captain looked at the Borg, now just standing still. She looked nervous, then said, "Seven, could you join me in my ready room in ten minutes?"
She looked puzzled. "Yes, Captain."
"Fine. Get to work people."
She turned on her heel and walked out the door.
Eight minutes later, Captain Janeway stood before her huge windows to space outside. Seven walked in through the door behind her.
"You wanted to see me Captain?" She said.
"Yes, I did." She stepped down and sat down in the chair behind her desk. "I want you to ask the Borg what his intentions are. What he wants to do. You're the only other Borg on this ship, so therefore he might listen to you if you suggest him not to return to the collective."
"Was that the only reasons why you wanted me to talk to him, Captain?" Seven asked, quizzically cocking her head to one side. Janeway had to smile. So Seven had figured it out.
"Actually, no. It seems to me that he has taken quite a fancy to you."
"Captain?" Seven asked with a slight hint of alarm. "I would prefer if he took his...fancies...elsewhere."
"Oh, it just means that he finds you more interesting than the rest of the crew he's been in contact with."
"I will try my best to persuade him to not join the collective." She turned to leave and Janeway ducked her head toward her large cup of coffee and her PADD.
"And to take his `fancy' off me." She said as she walked through the door.
Janeway had to smile. Seven had a lot to learn about human language and slang. Frowning at the door, she also reminded herself to teach the young woman the meaning of "private thoughts".
As soon as Seven got to the sickbay, she noticed that the Borg was pressing his hands against the force field, and crackling electricity curled around his fingers. He had a look of a adept fascination on his face, as if he was seeing it for the first time, which was very probable. She sighed, remembering the many years it took for her to adapt to human civilization again, and she privately thought that this newer version was going to find it harder. She cleared her throat and stepped forward.
The change was instant. He looked up from the field, grinned and stepped toward her, pressing his hands, palm down, onto the force-field. His grin widened.
"Hi-ya, sugar lips. How you doing?" he drawled.
She was frankly shocked that he knew this dialect. She was very insulted, too, as he sounded very much like Tom Paris had done for the first few years of her stay on Voyager, before he married Torres.
"I do not have `sugar lips', and I'd prefer you didn't use that course language with me. Now let us get this - situation - clarified. I have been assigned to adapt you to human life, nothing more, and, personally, I think that you and I should stay as far apart from each other," she growled. "Now, any questions?"
"Just the one," he said, spreading his arms wide. "Can I use a corkscrew?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Excuse me?" she inquired, also raising an eyebrow. If he meant what she thought he meant she would...
"It's just that, you're wound up so tight that for me to do anything with you would be incredibly difficult, unless I wound you down first, if you get my meaning?" he wiggled his eyebrows.
She exhaled in disgust, turned and shook her head, as Tom walked out of the Doctors office. He laughed and grinned at her.
"You too, huh? He's been doing that all the time. He seems really friendly, and, well, human. Guess we did some major damage to the Borg in the future, huh?"
She stiffened at this suggestion. Humans, doing any damage to the Collective! It was laughable.
"Where is Ensign Kim? He is meant to be-"
Tom cut her off with a wave of his hands. "He's in the holo-deck. I know, I know," he said, avoiding her glare, but he needed a break. Doctors orders. Well, filling-in doctors orders, anyway."
She sighed, and went to the computer and typed up a few things on her pad. She passed it to Tom.
"Send this through the force field, and tell him to digest it. I will return in 8 hours." She started to walk away.
"Hey, where are you going?" he shouted after her.
"I need to regenerate," she shouted over her shoulder. "Enjoy!" She chuckled at her first joke.
"Oh, dear," Tom groaned at the closing of the doors. He turned to the Borg, who just raised an eyebrow. He turned back to the doors.
"What ARE we going to do about that, huh?" he sighed.
"Captain, I refuse to work with him! He is so annoying, condescending, arrogant, stubborn -" Seven's tirade went on.
The Captain sat back in her chair in her quarters as Seven paced back and forth, ranting and raving. Only four days had passed since she had put her on assignment, and already she was in a frenzy. She had never known Seven to show true emotion other than anger, and, boy, was she showing it now!
"Seven, calm down. It's only for -" She was cut off by Seven.
"You don't know how long it will take! Sure," she said, as Janeway opened her mouth to speak, "his progress is great, but he'll pester me forever while he is on this ship! He goes on and on and on," she continued.
Oh Dear, thought Janeway. If Seven can't stand him, who can?
Terrible Chapter ending, I know, but please R+R!