DISCLAIMER: You all know the drill - Paramount is God. All hail Paramount. They own everything in the Star Trek Universe - I'm just using my overactive imagination to take their characters where they refuse to go. All in the name of fun, not profit (I wish).
ORDER AND CHAOS
CHAPTER SEVEN: ADRIFT
Tom's quarters were dark when he entered, and he could see B'Elanna's sleeping form in the bed. He smiled and left the lights dimmed as he removed his uniform jacket and tossed it on a nearby chair. He was glad she was there; it wasn't very often that she took him up on his offer to consider his quarters hers…and he didn't want to sleep alone tonight.
He moved closer to the bed and sat down in a chair to remove his boots. Just as he pulled the first one off, she rolled onto her side and propped her head up on one arm.
"Sorry," he said, tugging on the second boot. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"I wasn't asleep." She watched him as he stood up and stripped off his turtleneck. "How did it go?"
He moved over and sat on the edge of the bed in his tank top. "It was touch and go at one point. She went into synaptic shock…but the Doc managed to stabilize her and we removed most of the remaining implants. He thinks she'll only need one more surgery to remove them all."
She reached over and rested her hand on top of his. "Is there any sign her personality is returning?"
"We had to keep her sedated."
She sighed and laid her head back down on the pillow.
He stood up and stripped the rest of his uniform off, pulling on a pair of shorts and a worn t-shirt. He climbed under the sheets next to her, and she rolled over and rested her head on his shoulder.
"I can't imagine not having her back," she said quietly after a few minutes.
He stroked her hair gently. "I know. Me neither."
She ran her fingers over his chest. "You know, I don't think I've ever told her how much I appreciate everything she's done for me."
"She did a lot for all of us."
"Most people in her position wouldn't have even given me a chance. I never understood how she could have so much confidence in me when I didn't even have confidence in myself."
"She believed in a lot of people…we just have to trust that we'll get her back."
She tilted her head up to look at his face. "God, Tom…what if we don't?"
"Captain Janeway is one of the strongest, most determined people I've ever known. If anyone can win a psychological war with the Borg, it's her." He reached over and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You know...when we first got stranded out here she seemed invincible."
B'Elanna smiled. "I thought so too."
"Oh, I knew she wasn't as tough as she liked to appear on the outside." He smiled. "Kind of like a certain engineer I know."
"Lucky for that engineer there are stubborn pilots around to keep pushing her to let down her defenses."
He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Lucky for both of us."
They were silent for a few minutes before Tom returned to his original train of thought. "I knew the Captain wasn't as tough as she looked…but I still thought she was invincible. Seeing her just laying there…" He reached over and squeezed her hand. "It really makes you appreciate what you've got."
B'Elanna shifted closer to him and smiled. "So you think you've 'got' me, do you Paris?"
Glad for the light banter, he smirked. "Is there something I should know about?"
She propped herself on one elbow. "Well, you know what they say about engineers. They're married to their jobs."
"I'm supposed to be jealous of a hunk of dilithium?"
She arched an eyebrow and leaned closer to him, kissing him on the base of his neck. She moved closer to his ear, then hissed, "If you ever refer to my engines as a hunk of dilithium again you'll be sleeping alone for a long, long time."
With that she pulled away and rolled over with her back to him. He laughed and moved closer to her. He put his arms around her waist, and they gradually drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Warning, said the computer, Regeneration cycle incomplete.
Seven of Nine stepped out of her alcove and looked around in confusion, wondering why her regeneration cycle had ended prematurely.
Doctor to Seven of Nine.
"Yes, Doctor?"
Sorry to interrupt your rest, but Axum is starting to regain consciousness. I thought you'd want to be here when he wakes up.
There was a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach, and it took her a few seconds to find her voice. "Thank you. I'm on my way."
*
The Doctor was standing next to Axum's bed, scanning him, when Seven entered.
One side of his face was still covered with implants, and there was exoplating covering most of his chest, but his skin was starting to regain its natural color and most of his facial features were visible.
"How is he?" she asked as she approached his side.
"Stable, for now," replied the Doctor as he continued his scans. "It looks like we'll have to remove some of the radial implants in his joints and probably some of his cranial ones. The ocular implant is stable for now…but I assume he'll want to have that one removed eventually to restore his appearance."
Seven was about to reply when Axum rolled his head from side to side and inhaled deeply. His eyes fluttered open, and once they remained open he looked around in confusion.
She took his hand, and didn't notice the Doctor discreetly leaving them alone. "Axum."
He turned his head towards her. "Annika." He frowned in confusion. "Where am I?"
"On Voyager, in our Sickbay. Your cube was attacked in the transwarp conduit. You were injured."
He looked around the room again, then down at himself. He slowly reached up and touched the skin on his face that was now exposed. "What…what's happened to me?"
She flinched at the accusation in his voice. "Some of your implants were damaged beyond repair. Our Doctor was forced to remove them in order to save you."
He returned his attention to her, noticing the apprehension in her face. All the anger and frustration in his expression evaporated when he saw her innocent emotion. "I won't be able to function on the cube anymore, will I," he said gently. It wasn't a question, and her reaction was enough to confirm his suspicions.
"We…I had no choice," she explained in a small voice. "You would have died."
He squeezed her hand. "It's all right, Annika. You don't have to feel guilty. I'm thankful to be alive."
"I didn't want to lose you."
"Maybe," he said slowly, his eyes examining her face, "It was fate."
* * *
Chief Medical Officer's Log, Stardate 54108.3 I've managed to remove the last of Captain Janeway's Borg implants. I have no reason to expect any more complications and she should be able to leave Sickbay within a matter of days. Physically, she's making excellent progress. I only wish I could be as optimistic for her mental state.
The Doctor looked up from the monitor at his desk when he thought he heard a noise. He rose from his chair and left his office, looking around.
"Hello?" he called, looking around. The room was empty.
He glanced at Axum, but he was sound asleep. He looked towards the surgical bay, and was surprised to see the Captain sitting up on the bed with her legs hanging over the side.
He hit his commbadge. "Sickbay to Commander Chakotay," he said softly, moving slowly towards the surgical bay.
Go ahead, Doctor.
"Captain Janeway is awake."
I'm on my way.
The Doctor continued to approach her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands gripping the sides, looking passively around the surgical bay.
"Captain?" he said tentatively.
She didn't acknowledge him and continued examining her surroundings.
He slowly reached for a medical tricorder, trying not to make any sudden movements that would startle her. He opened it and began scanning her through the forcefield. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
She still didn't respond.
He heard the doors to Sickbay slide open, and he looked over his shoulder to see Chakotay enter, moving quickly over to join him.
"Did you wake her?" he asked.
He shook his head. "The sedative I gave her wore off faster that I anticipated."
"I take it you removed the last of her implants?"
"Just a few hours ago. There weren't any complications this time."
Chakotay watched her as she looked impassively around the room. Her Borg exoplating removed, she was wearing a surgical gown now. The Doctor had re-stimulated her hair follicles, and the chestnut strands fell loosely down to her shoulders. One side of her face was covered with dermal patches, and he could see the edges of more bandages under the aqua fabric of the surgical gown. Her skin was still pale, but the natural color was starting to return and she looked more like herself than she had since her rescue.
"Kathryn?" he prompted gently.
"She doesn't seem to be reacting to her surroundings," offered the Doctor. "She's no longer hostile but she's not aware of or willing to acknowledge our presence."
"Any ideas why that would be?"
He thought for a moment. "There was some minor neurological damage to her frontal lobe from removing one of the implants."
"Permanent?"
"I doubt it, and I don't think that would be the cause of this kind of withdrawal." He shrugged. "It could be some form of post-traumatic stress disorder. I'll start going through the medical database to see what I can find."
* * *
Seven looked up from her console in the cargo bay as the doors slid open.
"Commander," she said as Chakotay approached her. "What can I do for you?"
He joined her, standing on the opposite side of her console. "I was hoping you would join me for breakfast again."
One side of her mouth rose in a smile. "Of course."
"There's one condition, though," he added. "And you might not like it."
She arched an eyebrow. "What condition?"
"I want to talk about your experience after you were separated from the Collective."
*
They chose a table near the corner of the mess hall, making their way around the crewmen filtering in before the day shift.
"I know you don't usually eat breakfast," said Chakotay as they sat down.
She smiled. "The Doctor has encouraged me to 'broaden my palette.' I believe eating one of Mr. Neelix's concoctions instead of nutritional supplements would qualify."
He chuckled, glad for the relief. "Quite frankly, I appreciate the company. I'm not used to eating breakfast by myself." His cheerful demeanor evaporated. "Kath…The Captain and I usually discuss the day's business over breakfast."
"I'm sure I make a poor substitute for the Captain."
He looked up in surprise. "Not at all."
"I find that difficult to believe. You have been friends with Captain Janeway for over six years. Her company must therefore be more valued than mine…and I am sure my conversation skills are not equal to hers. The Doctor has often reminded me that my talent for making...'small talk' leaves much to be desired."
"I'm not looking for small talk," he told her candidly. After a moment's thought, he added, "And if we don't know each other as well as we could…that's my fault, not yours."
She looked at him in surprise and raised an eyebrow.
He took a sip of coffee and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. "The Captain and I often disagreed about you, right from the start. It's not until recently that we started to see eye to eye."
Seven remained unruffled. "It was only natural that you should object to the Captain bringing a Borg drone on board."
"I probably reacted based on my feelings about the Borg. I thought you would betray us at the first possible opportunity, and I didn't think you would be able to function as a member of the crew…but, it turns out the Captain was right, as usual. You've become a valued member of the crew."
"Thank you, Commander."
"And when I think about it…" He looked at her carefully. "You remind me of her quite a bit."
Her eyebrow arched higher in genuine surprise. "The Captain and I have had many disagreements since I came on board. We have clashed on many issues and still argue on a regular basis."
"That's probably more due to your similarities than you realize. You have quite a few qualities in common…you're both independent, determined, authoritative, stubborn…and now you have one more thing in common."
"The Borg."
He thought for a moment. "The best way for me to be able to help the Captain is to try to understand what she's going through."
"I thought we determined that my experiences were irrelevant to the Captain's situation."
"Different, yes. Irrelevant? No."
She paused to take another bite of her food, and he observed her closely. He had been telling the truth -- he had objected to her being on board from the start. He had kept most of his objections to himself, even from Kathryn…but he had always felt that keeping Seven on board was a mistake. He had appreciated her talents after a while, but he had never thought she would fit in with the crew and he had never made any real attempts to befriend her. Their relationship had been kept strictly professional.
But getting to know her now gave him a surprising comfort. Seven's personality had been formed so much by the Captain, and he was surprised himself by the similarities he was finding between them. Seven and the Captain had always been close, and by getting to know Seven he somehow felt that he was connecting with Kathryn.
"I know talking about it makes you uncomfortable," he said after a minute, "So if you -- "
"If you believe it will assist the Captain then I am more than willing to share it with you. Where would you like to begin?"
* * *
Chakotay crossed his arms as he watched the Doctor scan the Captain. She was still unresponsive to any of them, and she sat motionless on the biobed as he scanned her.
"You're sure she's recovered enough to leave Sickbay?"
"Physically, she's fine."
Chakotay could sense there was something more. "But?"
"I haven't observed any psychological improvement since we last spoke." He folded the tricorder shut and stepped away from the bed. "I believe familiar surroundings might stimulate a response."
He nodded. "What exactly do you have in mind?"
"Perhaps you could start with her quarters. Or maybe the bridge or the mess hall."
"I don't think the mess hall is a good idea."
"Why not?" asked the Doctor, slightly miffed at having his suggestion contradicted.
"Crowds. Seven mentioned that crowds bother her after being in the Collective. I think for now we should limit the number of people around her."
"Hm," grunted the Doctor. "Probably not a bad idea. I also don't think she should be left alone. One of the crew, preferably someone she knows well, should be with her at all times."
"I'll see to it."
He and the Doctor each took one of her arms and they helped her off the biobed. Chakotay placed his hand on the small of her back and slowly guided her out of Sickbay.
*
The doors to her quarters slid open, and she slowly stepped inside without any encouragement from him. She moved to the middle of the room and stood there, looking around passively.
He moved to stand behind her, slightly to the side so he could see her face. "Kathryn?"
She didn't seem to hear him, so he reached out and touched her gently on the shoulder. She jumped, and snapped her head around to look at him.
It was the first time she had responded to any kind of physical contact.
Although she showed no further reaction, she was still looking at him. Slowly, she looked away and her eyes continued roving about the room.
"Recognize any of this?" he asked her.
She didn't answer, but after a few seconds her eyes fell on something. He saw her fixed gaze and looked over his shoulder to see what had caught her attention.
The photos on her desk.
She tentatively moved towards them, and reached out to run her finger along the edge of a picture of the senior staff. He hoped for some kind of reaction, but she turned away from it and looked at the image next to it, a photo of her ex-fiancé Mark, her, and her Irish Setter before Voyager left for the badlands. She ran her fingers over that picture too.
Seeing how she was drawn to it, he reached over and picked it up, holding it in front of her. She slowly ran her fingers over it again.
"Molly," she whispered suddenly.
That was the first time anyone had heard her speak since she had been disconnected from the Collective. He reached over and turned her to face him. There -- in her eyes. He could see something…a spark, a warmth, a flash of emotion. Some part of Kathryn had resurfaced, somehow.
"Kathryn?" he said anxiously. "Kathryn, answer me!"
Whatever it was that he saw in her eyes started to fade, and he shook her by the shoulders as if that would keep her there. "Kathryn?"
Her eyes were glassy again now…just like they had been since her rescue. They were cold, unfeeling. Not at all the beautiful eyes he used to lose himself in whenever she looked at him.
He sighed. At least it was a start.