The Doctor frowned over the still forms of Jor, Tabor, and Yosa. Their unconsciousness was perplexing. "If this keeps up, I may have to open a special coma ward."
Janeway didn't bother trying to smile at his joke. Even one officer attacked was a serious matter. Three meant she was developing a serious stress headache.
Chakotay found it more than just perplexing. He confronted Janeway with the first thing that jumped out at him, the thing that had him on edge since the first attack. "Take a look at their names. Tell me if anything strikes you."
Janeway did and was surprised. "Former Maquis."
"It's either a coincidence, or they're being singled out." It was clear by the tone of his voice which option he thought it was.
Janeway shook her head, refusing to believe any of the crew would be so narrow-minded. "There hasn't been any hostility between the Maquis and the rest of the crew for years."
"Maybe someone on your crew couldn't put the past behind them."
"My crew?" She really didn't like the implication despite his mild tone. It surprised her, this slip, since she had forgotten to see the Maquis as anything other than their crew. If Chakotay hadn't pointed out that they were all former Maquis, she would have overlooked the link.
"Our crew," he amended. Still, he was unable to forget the feeling of having to amalgamate his crew with the Starfleet one, the bitter pill it was to conform and force beliefs he didn't hold onto those of his Maquis crew. It was a feeling he thought had gone away, but it began to poke and prod him with the attack on Tabor and now Jor and Yosa.
Choosing to set the conversation aside for later, and unaware of the conflict brewing in her commander, Janeway turned to the EMH. "Are you any closer to a diagnosis, Doctor?"
[Mess Hall]
Chakotay gathered the remains of his crew – former crew – and advised them of the situation, all too aware of the division this incident could create.
Chell, always outspoken and often overly critical, was the first to speak. "What is it you expect us to do?"
"Stay alert. Report anything suspicious to Commander Tuvok."
"I'd rather report to you, if it's all the same." A few nods from around the room supported Chell's opinion. A few voices rose from around the room, not many saying anything pleasant. Though he'd never admit it, Chakotay was proud of their loyalty even as he worried how easily divided they were from their Starfleet comrades.
B'Elanna alone tried to calm the mass and talk some sense into the angry, frightened group. "Oh, come on. We put our differences aside seven years ago. It's ancient history."
Chell was not so easily calmed, especially with Chakotay providing no hard defence for Tuvok or the Starfleet crew. Chakotay's strained expression alone was enough to stir repressed feelings in the Maquis. "Maybe history is repeating itself."
"Look," Chakotay broke in feeling the speculation, "the truth is, we don't know what we're up against. But the last thing we need right now is an outbreak of paranoia. Now until we get to the bottom of this, I want you all to carry hand phasers. Nobody goes anywhere alone."
The group broke up, each going their own way, but B'Elanna approached Chakotay. Her brows pressed together and her lips were a thin line of conflict.
"What is it, B'Elanna?"
She ignored his sharp tone, taking it for stress. "You don't really think this is about Starfleet vs Maquis, do you?"
He sighed, but could neither confirm nor deny it. "I don't know. To be honest, I wish I could say it's not, but with all the victims being Maquis…"
"It could still be coincidence."
"I hope so. I really hope so." He watched the last person leave. "I never forgot where we all came from and I didn't expect anyone else to either, but I thought we were all friends enough that our differences didn't matter."
"We are friends. We are one crew." She considered all the crewmen who worked under her in engineering, the way random groups would gather for hikes and games on the holodeck, how they'd risked their lives for each other. Conviction filled her. "Whoever is doing this is not in their right mind."
[Corridor]
"I want you to take this."
Seven, alone with Chakotay in the hallway, eyed the phaser he held out. "I don't understand."
"I want you to be safe."
"I thought the culprit was only attacking former Maquis."
"So far."
"Chakotay, this seems extreme." She also didn't like the look in his eyes. He wasn't himself. He was strained, clearly upset and she knew humans didn't think clearly under such circumstances.
"It might be, but there's a maniac out there attacking people and I don't want one of them to be you."
"I am not former Maquis, nor do I believe I require a weapon at all times."
"What if whoever is behind these attacks isn't just after Maquis? What if they're going for anyone not Starfleet?"
"There is no evidence of that. Besides, you are Starfleet now." Seven refused to take the phaser from him. "Chakotay, without proof of who the culprit is or why they are attacking, you are acting just as paranoid as you are afraid everyone else will be."
"I am not paranoid," he said, a strange white noise in the back of his head, a noise that had been creeping up since the first attack. It was like a fog obscuring what normally was so clear and steady. He fought it down. "I'm concerned."
"Chakotay, I don't like this division in the crew. I do not believe any of the Starfleet officers are responsible."
"There's no sign of an intruder. That only leaves one solution."
"It wouldn't be the first time an alien race has invaded Voyager undetected."
"No, that's true." That logic calmed him just a little.
The truth was that despite his suspicions and the way the evidence was pointing so far, he didn't like the theory that a Starfleet officer was responsible any more than Janeway did. Less did he like seeing the division in the crew the situation was creating. Sure, it had rankled at first to have no choice but cooperate with the Federation, an institution that had sat back and allowed so many atrocities to occur, but Voyager's crew wasn't a Federation. It was a collection of dedicated people, people with families and dreams interrupted thanks to the Caretaker, people who had been more welcoming and loyal to the Maquis than even the bitterest of them thought possible. He didn't hate any of them, had never hated them on an individual level, and didn't even see them as representations of the Federation anymore. So why couldn't he suppress the growing anger, the unrelenting feeling that he couldn't trust these Starfleet officers?
Seven watched the myriad of thoughts float across his face. He quietly contemplated her words at first, seeming to gentle and relax until a shadow crossed. She could see it darken his eyes and tighten his face into a scowl.
"What is it?"
Chakotay ducked his head, some unconscious belief that more attacks were eminent taking hold. He took her arm and forced the weapon into her hand. "Take the phaser."
Before Seven could respond, he strode away. She watched him, concerned and a little afraid. He was not acting like himself at all and it unnerved her.
She turned the phaser over in her hand, wondering if he was right about the need for it. He was clearly worried and despite her fear that he wasn't acting like himself, there was nothing to indicate the change was from anything other than stress and worry.
No, I'll return it to the armoury. Carrying a weapon around her colleagues meant she didn't trust them and would likely not help them trust her. Cohesiveness was key to a working collective, especially one as strained as Voyager was at that moment.
[Corridor]
Chell and B'Elanna walked to engineering, Chell continuously looking over his shoulder.
"Stop it," B'Elanna huffed. "You're making me nervous."
Chell resisted another look. "It doesn't make sense. This ship, with all its sensors. How could five people be attacked without leaving a trace?"
"Good question. I expect Tuvok will be looking into that."
"Maybe it's a conspiracy. Ever since Voyager began sending data streams back home, Starfleet has known that almost a quarter of the crew is Maquis."
"So?" Once again B'Elanna cursed her luck at being paired with Chell.
"Maybe they think we're still dangerous." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Maybe they ordered the Captain to neutralise the threat."
"Yes, that's it." B'Elanna all but threw up her hands in exasperation. "She's putting us all into stasis. The comas are just a cover story."
Chell missed or ignored her sarcasm. "It would be easier than putting us all in the brig."
The turbolift opened and Seven, who was returning from the armoury, nodded to them both. B'Elanna gave a quick, strained smile.
Chell lingered a moment, watching Seven's confident strides. She seemed unperturbed by the possibility of attack and unconcerned that he and B'Elanna were sporting hand phasers. "It could be her."
B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."
The doors closed.
"No, really, think about it. Why else would the Captain put so much effort into making her a member of her crew, teaching her to be human, trying to instill Starfleet ideals? What if she's been training Seven to obey?"
B'Elanna laughed. If he only knew that Seven was dating the former leader of their Maquis ship. It took everything she had not to throw that tidbit in his face. "Besides being a ridiculous idea, in what parallel universe do you think Seven obeys anyone?"
Chell shrugged, but didn't let it go. He continued on in the same vein until B'Elanna finally snapped and told him to shut up.
[Corridor]
Chakotay was not pleased when he stumbled upon Chell walking alone. "Crewman," he said loudly, making Chell jump and face him, looking like a child caught doing something naughty. "I remember ordering everyone to work in pairs. Where's your partner?"
Chell, unhappy to be on the other side of Chakotay's glare stammered. "Er, she's – ah – ah..."
He wasn't in the mood for this. "Who's your partner?"
"Lieutenant Torres," he said, finally understanding the human saying of being caught between a rock and a hard place. "I told her we shouldn't split up, sir, but she said she could handle herself. You know how stubborn she can be."
Chakotay sighed to himself. Of course, B'Elanna would be the one to break the rules first. "I have a vague idea. Do you know where she went?"
[Cargo Bay Two]
Chakotay entered the dark cargo bay, the hairs on the back of his neck rising with the lack of movement. "B'Elanna?"
Ominous silence answered.
"Computer, locate Lieutenant Torres."
"Lieutenant Torres is in Cargo Bay two."
That meant she was here, but where and why wasn't she answering? Of course, he already knew the answer. He found her without too much trouble, in a heap on the floor.
He reached to check her pulse and a bit of movement behind him caught his attention. With relief, he saw it was Tuvok. "Help me get her to Sickbay."
"This is a holy time."
"What?" Looking closer, he noticed Tuvok's gaze was all wrong, vacant and cold. Chakotay drew his phaser, but Tuvok was faster. He connected with the wall, feeling dazed. "Security to Cargo Bay two."
The fight finished quickly with Chakotay caught off guard and dazed. Tuvok fought the Commander without breaking a sweat and held him tight, initiating a mind meld.
It was so easy to reach the pre-programmed thoughts Teero implanted in the Commander that Tuvok would later wonder how Chakotay had not simply snapped years earlier and initiated a mutiny on his own. Not every member of the Maquis had been subject to Teero's techniques since he'd only had access to so many people. Chakotay and Tuvok were just two and only Tuvok had the ability to activate Teero's plan. The programming was strong and already close to the surface, brought to the forefront of the Commander's mind thanks to Teero's ingenuity. Yes, Teero had known what he was doing and tied the programming to emotions, the downfall of all creatures. The anger and fear Chakotay had felt since the first attack had ignited the programming, bringing it within Tuvok's reach.
[Sickbay]
With the attack on B'Elanna and Chakotay, Janeway's concern increased exponentially. Neither of them were the sort to be caught unawares and both were skilled fighters. How could this happen? It was beyond unnerving. It was outright alarming. She did all that she could think of, but even so she felt she could only wait for the next attack.
Seven was considered one of the essential staff allowed more leeway than many others on Voyager. Normally such freedom would not have mattered overmuch to her, but with the knowledge that Chakotay had been attacked and was lying in sickbay, she was grateful for the chance to visit.
"Seven," the Doctor greeted her with surprise. He automatically reached for a tricorder. "Are you feeling all right?"
"I am functioning within normal parameters." She glanced at Chakotay and B'Elanna, who lay near one another. They were still and looked surprisingly peaceful, nothing to betray the violence of their attack.
"Their vital systems are normal," the Doctor advised softly. A hint of sadness crept into his voice as he watched the way Seven looked at Chakotay.
Seven, oblivious to the Doctor's pained expression, moved to stand at Chakotay's side. She wanted to reach out and comfort his still form, but the Doctor was watching and he wasn't the only one in sickbay. Tom stood with his wife and Harry was talking quietly with him.
"We should go," Harry said. "If we're going to figure out who's doing this, we'll need to get that image clearer."
Tom shook his head. "You know as much as I do, Harry. I'm not going anywhere right now."
Harry, realizing there was no point in arguing, nodded and left. He spared a curious glance at Seven, but concluded she was there for one of her regular maintenance appointments.
Tom glanced over at Seven as well, but quickly turned back to B'Elanna, having no room in his thoughts for anyone else.
The Doctor gave a soft sigh and left the two couples to themselves, finding refuge in research behind the walls of his office.
Tom's back was to her. Taking advantage of the lack of attention, Seven leaned down and pressed a kiss to Chakotay's forehead. "I love you."
She surprised herself with this little, unwitnessed confession, but once the words were out, she knew it was true. Despite the shortness of their courtship, despite the few times he'd forgotten to tell her he was too busy to meet her for a lunch date, despite her original beliefs on intimate relationships, she was emotionally bound to him. Attachments of such magnitude were new to her, but that didn't mean she was completely ignorant of their existence or how they were supposed to feel. There was only one description for her enjoyment in his presence and the loss she felt in his absence.
There was, of course, no answer from her partner.
His forehead, too often scrunched up with strain, was already smooth as he lay in oblivious unconscious. She traced its plains with her palm, satisfying her need to feel his life pulsing, and her desire to be close.
Tom was, since it was a legitimate shift in sickbay for him, now moving from one patient to the other. He checked their vitals and ensured they were receiving what they needed to stay alive. In a rare bout of sensitivity, he even ensured he gave his Commander an extra moment or two with the tall blonde visitor and didn't even consider talking about the tender moment he witnessed.
She knew it was silly to bother, but Seven told the unconscious Chakotay about her day, about having lunch with Icheb and what he'd said. She told him she was missing him and that she already had plans for when he woke up. She pressed another quick kiss to his forehead as unregulated sorrow welled to the surface.
Seven paused as a strange click and whirring sound broke the moment. It disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving her unharmed but confused.
"Seven?" Tom had given them as much time as he could without standing in a corner twiddling his thumbs.
"Goodnight, Lieutenant." Seven moved away and escaped sickbay before he could see the weakness in her eyes.
Tom, to give him credit, saw the hint of tears and the hesitation to leave Chakotay's side, and yet he only felt empathy.
Seven hesitated in the hallway, wishing to say a more proper goodbye despite how illogical it was to speak to a comatose person. Wiping away a tear or two, she forced herself back to work.
[Sickbay]
Chakotay sat up and looked around, confused and disoriented to find himself in sickbay, but put the pieces together quickly. A part of him was disappointed to not see Seven there, but he rationalized she must be working. After all, they weren't officially a couple and it would raise questions if she was at his bedside all the time. He also had no idea how long he'd been out.
Tom approached with a medical tricorder.
"How long?"
"Twenty-nine hours." Tom took a step back as Chakotay sought out B'Elanna one bed over. "She woke up just before you did."
Janeway came up then, her expression so strained she was almost the harsh, stony captain he'd first met years ago. "They've all recovered. We don't know why."
"Do we know who—"
"Tuvok."
That was a real surprise. He must have misheard. "Tuvok?"
Janeway didn't even nod she was so tense. Her words were stilted and strained. "He's in the brig. Apparently, he's being manipulated by some form of mind control. Can he leave, Mister Paris?"
Tom didn't see why not. "But he should wear one of these," he said, placing a portable monitor on Chakotay's neck.
Chakotay winced as the piece of cold metal was pressed to his neck, but the minor discomfort was forgotten as Kathryn leaned closer.
"There's something I want to show you."
[Astrometrics]
Seven was startled and happy to see Chakotay enter astrometrics, but hid her feelings in her usual, informal nod since Captain Janeway was with him and returned her gaze back to the large screen. She expected him to stand next to her, as had become their habit. It was therefore strange and slightly hurtful when he stood on the other side of Janeway and all but ignored her.
"Play the clip," Janeway said with a curt nod to Seven.
Seven nodded, tapping a command so that Tuvok's son – Sek, she believed was his name – appeared on the large screen. Having never seen the boy before, Seven could nonetheless see the family resemblance.
"Exo-linguistics always seemed a little too theoretical to me. I've decided to study musical composition instead. I would have sent you my latest polytonal construct, but they wouldn't give me enough room in this datastream. Maybe next time, I can."
At a look from Janeway, Seven paused the recording.
Chakotay was confused, wondering what this could have to do with the attacks. "A letter from his son."
"We found another signal embedded in the message. A letter within a letter."
Seven played the clip again, this time with commands to show the hidden message. Sek's image disappeared to show an older Bajoran male.
"This is a holy time. B'tanay," the male intoned, "the time of awakening. Return to that dark place from which all life springs."
Seven didn't know who the man was or what he meant by the message, but she didn't like the intensity of Chakotay's expression as he gazed up at the screen. It was as though he was meeting an old nemesis and yet there was no hatred, no anger, just a penetrating stare. "The signal is calibrated to correspond with Vulcan synaptic frequencies," she explained, hoping it would break his stare. "Tuvok wouldn't have been consciously aware of it."
Chakotay didn't even hear her. "Teero."
Janeway looked at him sharply, wordlessly asking for an explanation.
"Teero Anaydis. He was a Bajoran Vedek. He worked with the Maquis."
"Doing what?"
"Counter-intelligence." He must have been good too if he got to Tuvok, thought Chakotay. He wondered just when Teero would have had access to Tuvok. The only time he could think of was while Tuvok was on the Valjean and they'd stopped to get intel from him. "He was thrown out for experimenting with mind control. He thought it was a good way to recruit agents."
"Well, apparently he was successful at recruiting our Tactical Officer." The coldness of her tone was enough to show just what she thought of this. "These incantations and symbols, they must have triggered something in Tuvok, preconditioned behaviour, instructions."
"I should've known you'd show up again."
"Commander?" Like Seven, it finally struck Janeway just how strangely Chakotay was looking at this Teero Anaydis. He hadn't so much as glanced away for a moment.
"Teero was a fanatic. He'd go to any extreme for the Maquis. He called the rest of us traitors for rejecting his ideas, swore he'd fight the war on his own if he had to."
Seven broke in, concerned by what the man's intentions might be. "Why instruct Tuvok to mind meld with Voyager's Maquis thirty-five thousand light years from Earth?"
"I'd like Tuvok to take a look at this message," said Janeway. "Maybe it'll jog his memory." She turned to Seven. "Try to decode those symbols."
Again expecting Chakotay to acknowledge her in some way, Seven turned to him, but he immediately began working, his stiff stance clearly telling her he didn't want to talk. As she watched him work, she felt a knot in her stomach. His behavior was not normal, but if he wouldn't speak to her, she would be helpless to figure out what was going on.
"I am glad you are awake."
"Thank you."
She wanted to tell him that she visited, but his coldness quashed that impulse. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine."
"I can make us dinner later."
"No, thank you."
Stricken and surprised by his brushoff, Seven turned back to her own work. Her heart physically hurt – a strange sensation she wouldn't have believed to be possible – to think the relationship was over just as she realized the depth of her own feelings.
There was the strange mechanical sound again, only disappearing when she took refuge from her heartache in work and the cold comfort that whatever ended his interest in her was not her fault.
They worked in silence for what seemed like forever to Seven until Tuvok called for Chakotay.
"Go ahead."
"Pagh'tem'far, b'tanay."
At the words Chakotay's shoulders straightened and the fog in his mind lifted. Everything since he woke in sickbay was suddenly clear. "Understood."
Without a backward glance or farewell, he left astrometrics, leaving a confused Seven behind him.
[Ready Room]
Teero's programming was done well and in less than a half hour Voyager was under Maquis control. As part of their defiance of Starfleet rule, they changed from their uniforms to their rogue clothing.
Seven, who was one of a very few crewmembers not stunned during the initial takeover, was escorted directly to the ready room. She glanced around at the Maquis controlling the bridge, but didn't speak to them as she was led away. There was no point when they were under such persuasive mental programming. She understood that now.
"Commander," Seven greeted Chakotay when she entered. He sat at the desk, alone in the ready room. He had not been a captain for several years, but she couldn't help thinking how naturally he stepped into the role, as though he belonged. Too bad this was not his ship and he wasn't in his right mind.
"It's Captain now." He stood, moving around the desk and dismissing her escort with a nod of his head.
"Until you realize your actions are the result of mental programming by a radical."
"Radical. Visionary. It's all semantics and perspective. The point is I'm in charge of this ship."
"Then what do you want with me?"
"You're not Starfleet." Chakotay moved closer, showing he wasn't afraid of the ex-drone. "I know you're close to Janeway, but you could be a good fit in my crew."
"How so?"
"You're a good worker, strong, intelligent, independent, and you value efficiency. If we're going to operate this ship with a reduced crew, we'll need people like you."
Seven, however, already knew her answer. "No, thank you."
[Astrometrics]
Unlike the rest of the crew, Seven was escorted to astrometrics since her work could only benefit the Maquis. Besides, she didn't technically have quarters to be confined to. If she were to be left in the cargo bay, she could do just as much damage as at her post. An armed guard ensured she could make no move to escape or help her fellow crewmembers.
[Ready Room]
Janeway watched Chakotay hand a phaser over to Tuvok and felt her heart nearly beat out of her chest. "Tuvok, don't."
Tuvok, keeping his thoughts to himself, raised the phaser without hesitation. He fired as Chakotay commanded, but nothing happened. He eyed the weapon and handed it over when Chakotay reached for it. "This phaser is defective."
Chakotay nodded to the guards. "Take her back to the brig."
A little too relieved to make much of a fuss, Janeway let the guard take her out of Chakotay's deranged sight.
"You passed." Chakotay smiled and gestured for Ayala to go. "Now, we've got some tactical issues to review. I want to re-route all weapons control to my console."
It was his chance. Tuvok once again grabbed Chakotay when he was distracted and engaged a mind meld.
[Bridge]
On the bridge shortly after, the Maquis were ready to shuck off their Starfleet oppressors.
"Kim and Paris engineered a little breakout on deck six," said B'Elanna. There was no familiarity in the way she spoke of them, nothing to suggest she was married or in love with Tom anymore. Like Chakotay's budding relationship with Seven, any feelings she had for Tom were washed away in the clarity of Teero's activated programming. "We've contained them all behind a forcefield."
Jor, normally so sweet and kind, didn't hesitate in her response. "We should begin the evacuation."
"Start beaming them down. Begin on deck two, section zero one." It didn't occur to her that she was marooning her friends and family, people who had risked their lives for her and vice versa. No, it was out of her control.
Chakotay, followed by Tuvok and cleared of Teero's programming, entered the bridge. "Belay that order. Tuvok informed me that this planet has an unstable atmosphere. Go to astrometrics and scan for an alternative."
"What are you talking about? There's nothing wrong with the atmosphere."
Chakotay knew his window of opportunity was limited and he was already out of sorts from the two mind melds he'd endured. So, he wasn't as convincing as he would otherwise have been. "We don't have time to debate this."
"I can scan from here." B'Elanna was no fool even under mind control. She saw Chakotay's nervous glance to Tuvok and became suspicious. "Chakotay, what's going on?" Understanding dawned on her and she moved to draw her weapon, but she was too slow.
A massive headache from the mind melds was already on him, but Chakotay was still alert enough to see his acting hadn't sufficed. He drew his weapon and so did Tuvok.
[Ready Room]
Janeway and Chakotay, naturally, needed a long meeting to work out what had happened. They met in her ready room. Chakotay explained what he could remember about being attacked and brainwashed. Though the Vulcan was not his favourite person in the universe, Chakotay made sure to give Tuvok as much credit as he could for remedying the situation. He did, after all, deserve the credit.
"You know," Kathryn leaned back in her seat, "Tom suggested a movie night for the crew."
"Dare I ask what movie?"
"Something about a swamp monster I think. Interested?"
Chakotay smiled, but had to decline. "There's something long overdue that I have to deal with. I might see you there though."
[Chakotay's Quarters]
Seven took a deep breath before pressing the chime. The doors slid open at the owner's command and Seven was pleasantly surprised.
"It's probably not up to your standards," Chakotay, in civilian clothes and tending to the last details of their dinner, warned her, "but I hope you like it."
Seven looked around and the pain of his previous snub was forgotten. It had, after all, been made while he was under mind control. The smell of spices enriched the air, making her mouth water. The table was set for two with candles. Flowers were placed all around the room.
"Chakotay…" She was at a loss for words.
"Well, I –" He looked up from the stove, seeing Seven for the first time in her chosen dress. "Wow."
"Is it too much?" Seven smoothed her hands down the side of the purple dress, unsure if it was too revealing for such a date. Unused to having her legs bare, she'd chosen to include leggings, but the top dipped low to reveal more of her shoulders and chest than she was used to.
"No," Chakotay had to clear his throat to speak properly. "No, you look beautiful."
"I'm glad you suggested this." She came up to the counter to watch him work. He handed her a glass of wine. It had less synthehol than usual because he remembered her intolerance for it.
"And I'm glad you agreed to it." He pulled the last of the dishes from the stove and set it down, turning to give Seven his full attention. "Listen, I'm sorry for the way I acted."
Seven hushed him simply by reaching over the counter to place her hand on his. "You were not in control of your actions. If you do not judge me for my past infractions, then how can I judge you?"
He squeezed her hand in response, glad she was able to so easily forgive. He didn't fully remember what he'd done, but he knew enough to realize it wasn't gentlemanly.
Despite his disclaimer, dinner was deemed delicious by them both. Seven insisted on helping clean up, the two of them working in sync.
"This is a pleasant rarity," Seven said as the last dish was put away.
"What is?"
"Being able to complete a date without interruption."
Chakotay smiled. "Computer, music." A slow dance number started and he took Seven's hands. "Who says it's over?"
"Chakotay?" He held one hand, guided her other to his shoulder and then placed his on her hip. She was in shorter heels than normal so she didn't come right up to her usual height.
"It might not be a ballroom, but," the hand on her hip pressed her closer so that she was flush against him, "that doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves."
The memory of her first, mangled date intruded. It was the last time she'd danced. "Chakotay, I'm not sure this is wise."
"What do you mean?" He began to move, guiding her with gentle pressure on her back.
"I am untrained in this activity. The last time I attempted it with a human, I injured him."
"Funny, because you're doing it right now." He chuckled as she rolled her eyes. "So, who did you dance with?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Just wondering if I should be jealous," he said with a teasing glint.
She thought back on that date, which seemed a lifetime ago. Lieutenant Chapman had been exceedingly kind, not even breathing a word of their failed date to his peers. However, she could not have loved anyone back then, not with her humanity still so new and her understanding of it so limited.
"Seven?" At her contemplative silence, he began to wonder if he really should be jealous.
"I apologize." She shook her head a little, clearing her thoughts. "No, he was admirable, but there is no competition."
"Well, that's good to hear." He grinned, but she was still somewhat lost in thought. "Hey, what is it?"
Forcing herself out of memory and rumination, she smiled. "Nothing."
"None of that. Talk to me?"
"I was thinking of how much I've learned on Voyager. I feel like two different people."
Instead of laughing or giving her empty platitudes, Chakotay gave this statement serious thought. "You've come so far," he agreed. "You're nothing like the angry, disconnected ex-drone you used to be, but you've remained the same in essentials."
"How so?"
"You might have learned about humanity, but the basics of who you are have never changed. You were always loyal, independent, striving to better yourself."
"Would you ever have guessed when we first met that we'd be here?" The question was rhetorical and somewhat amusing to her, given how differently they viewed each other now from that first day. However, she felt Chakotay shudder.
"The possibility wouldn't have entered my wildest dreams. When I think how close you came to being killed…" Indeed, it was only by chance and Borg strength that she had been able to hold on and prevent herself from being blown into space. He held her closer, pressing a kiss to her cheek. It had been a very close thing.
"I believe our relationship would be dubbed the definition of irony."
Chakotay chuckled. "Yes, you're right about that, but I love you anyway."
Though the music continued, a new song starting up, Chakotay and Seven froze. It was the first time he'd said he loved her and it had simply slipped out without real thought.
"I'm…" He didn't really know what to say. He couldn't take it back because he couldn't and he didn't want to.
"I love you too." A strange sound, like the click and whirring of a machine tried to grab her attention, but she ignored it.
"You don't have to say it just because—"
"You were unconscious."
"What?"
"When you were in sickbay, unconscious, I visited you. I realized how much I missed your company. When you were under Teero's programming—" She broke off, not wanting to dwell on the heartache she felt when he ignored her. "We haven't been together long, but you are important to me, Chakotay."
Moved by her confession, Chakotay couldn't resist a short, but sweet kiss. "You're important to me too, Seven." He leaned his forehead against hers, smiling now. "I really do love you."
"And I love you." She returned his smile, finally feeling the knot in her stomach release and vanish as she leaned in to meet his lips.
[Ready Room]
Captain Janeway was having a good morning. She'd gotten enough sleep, which was rare, had a pleasant shower, and was just settling down to a good cup of coffee in her ready room. It had been a few days and the reports from around the ship were indicating that everything was getting back to normal after the brief Maquis takeover. Yes, the morning was going very well.
The door chimed.
"Enter." She looked up from the report she was reading and smiled to see Commander Chakotay and Seven. "Good morning."
Chakotay glanced at Seven, who was retreating into her Borg habit of icy stillness to hide her nerves. She managed a slight nod, a muscle in her jaw twitching and probably stopping her from speaking.
"We have something to tell you."
Unlocking her jaw took some mental effort, but Seven managed it, unwilling to make Chakotay do this alone. "We have begun an intimate relationship."
Janeway's initial thought was that she'd misheard or it was a joke. A long look at the two, however, confirmed she'd heard correctly and they were perfectly serious. She was at an utter loss for words, hardly believing what she'd heard. She looked from one to the other several times, the silence stretching as she tried to absorb this information.
"We want to keep it private for now, though." Chakotay couldn't help being somewhat amused by Janeway's obvious confusion. As much to see Janeway's reaction as to have the pleasure of the physical contact, Chakotay reached the short distance and took Seven's hand. "It's still fairly new, but you should be aware."
"Of course, I – I mean, it's certainly – What?"
"Captain?" Seven began to worry it was too much to hope for Janeway's blessing.
"I'm sorry." Janeway gave herself a mental shake. "It's just unexpected. How long?"
"About three months," Chakotay said.
"Months?" Her eyes, already wide, got larger still.
Chakotay nodded. "It's not a fling," he warned. It wasn't something she'd never hear about again.
"No. No, it wouldn't be, not knowing you two." Of that she was certain. They were so steadfast when they came to a decision that they wouldn't settle for anything other than commitment. She eyed them, slowly regaining her footing. "And you're really settled on this?"
"Yes." They both answered immediately, making Janeway have to smother a smile.
"Well, then congratulations. I trust this won't interfere with your work and of course you won't be going on away missions together." She watched them both nod at this. "As to it being private, I'll keep it to myself."
"Thank you, Captain." The tension drained away from Seven. She could see Chakotay likewise relax. They smiled at each other, their biggest worry now over.
Janeway waved them out of her office, having to take a deep breath to regain her equilibrium when they were gone.
[Cargo Bay]
Seven looked over her reflection sharply, critically. The red dress was striking and her favourite shade of red, but it was even more revealing than the last outfit she'd donned for a date.
Despite her hesitation, she had chosen this dress with care and for a purpose. Seven had a goal and tonight she was going to do something about it.
As much as she enjoyed the romantic but chaste time spent with Chakotay, Seven wanted more. Thanks to all the interruptions the Delta Quadrant threw at them, their progress was made even slower with Chakotay's determination to not rush things.
Seven knew he was going deliberately slow with her, restricting himself to kisses and caresses that were as teasing as they were promising. Given the trouble with her cortical node, she appreciated his consideration and was glad they hadn't forced physical intimacy, but she was ready and her patience for his restraint was done.
Since she didn't want to roam the hallways in the dress, she picked up the dessert she'd prepared and initiated a site-to-site transport.
[Chakotay's Quarters]
Chakotay stepped out of the bathroom, still drying his hair. He hadn't started dinner yet since part of their date was going to be to cook together. His civilian clothes were already spread out on his bed. Seven would be there soon so he dressed quickly.
The kitchen already had the ingredients for their dinner out on the counters. He did one more check to make sure everything she'd listed out was there.
The whir of the transporter caught him off guard, but the figure quickly took on a pleasing form.
"Good evening." Seven easily spotted Chakotay in the kitchen. She placed the dessert on the counter next to him, smiling smugly as he openly stared at her.
"I – Ah – Seven, you look wonderful."
"Thank you." She joined him behind the counter. "Are you ready?"
"Um…" He was still having trouble thinking beyond the little red dress. Seven, however, took this as sufficient consent.
She looked over the counter full of foodstuffs. "Excellent work, Commander."
He chuckled, loving the teasing light in her eyes. "Thank you. What would you like me to do?"
"You slice the celery. I will start on the sauce."
"Yes ma'am."
They worked together for a short while, discussing their day and the Doctor's disappearance at the thieving hands of a Dralian named Gar. Voyager was hot on his tail, though. Seven was concerned for the Doctor, but had faith the crew would track him down quickly. Before putting the finishing touches on her outfit for their date, she'd even ensured the latest updates from astrometrics were sent to the bridge. Her greatest consolation over his kidnapping was that the Doctor was a valuable hologram and unlikely to be damaged by whoever ended up in possession of him.
"Here, is the sodium chloride sufficient for your tastes?" Seven held out a teaspoon of the sauce for him. He obligingly tasted it and pretended to frown.
"Hmm. Could use another point six milligrams. But you're the chef." Two could play at the seduction game. She might have surprised him with her appearance and sultry gazes, but he had his own tricks. He dipped a finger into the concoction and held it out to her. His cocked brow dared her to back away. Seven took his challenge with just a slight hesitation born of inexperience and sucked the sauce off his little finger.
"I concur," she said, her voice growing soft and sultry as she met his gaze. His eyes were dark and intense on her face.
There was the strange whirring sound again, but Seven ignored it.
It was too much. Caught in the game, Chakotay reached for her and with lightening speed Seven turned off the stove and was in his arms. His hands were no longer tame, his kisses unrestrained. Seven's hands snuck up his shirt, tracing the muscles in his back. She pressed into him, pushing him back towards his bedroom. He went willingly, dragging her against him every stumbling step of the way.
"Seven, we don't have to do this if you aren't –" He was cut off by Seven kissing him deeply.
Chakotay moved his lips to her collarbone, enjoying her sharp breath as his teeth grazed her throat and then her shoulder. He nudged the strap of the dress aside, dragging the material down her arm as he plied her shoulder with kisses.
The dress slid to the floor, leaving Seven feeling strangely exposed in just her lingerie. There was no time for nerves or hesitation, however, not when Chakotay's warm gaze held only affection and admiration. His warm hands ran over her arms and to her waist. She took hold of his shirt, helping pull it over his head. She had never seen him less than fully dressed. Taking a moment to simply admire him, she trailed her hands up his bare chest. She was so absorbed in this exercise that she failed to immediately notice his grin.
"Have I told you how much I love you?"
Seven gave a breathy laugh, pulling him onto the bed. "Not today." She kissed him. "I love you too."
He wove his fingers in her hair, holding her in place as their kisses became more passionate, their hands and lips moving to explore each other in heated fervor.
A click, the sound of machinery, and a sharp zap like electricity in her brain made Seven cry out in pain, reaching for her head.
"What? What is it?" Chakotay immediately pulled back.
She couldn't answer. Even as the pain dulled, the whirring sound continued and she felt her body giving in to the oblivion of unconscious. Dimly, she was aware of Chakotay calling her name.
[Sickbay]
"She's stable now, but I can't be sure what exactly happened," said Tom. Since Seven was still unconscious, he addressed Commander Chakotay.
It had been quite the shock for Tom to have his shirtless commanding officer transport into sickbay with an unconscious Seven of Nine wrapped up in a bedsheet. There was no need to ask what they'd been up to. Any jokes or teasing was quickly forgotten as he realized the severity of Seven's condition.
"Is it her cortical node?" Chakotay hovered over her bed, once again decent. While Tom had worked to stabilize Seven, Chakotay replicated a new shirt.
"Yes and no. It did start to shut down, but it seems to be working normally." Tom sighed as he read the results of his scans. "I'm nowhere near as knowledgeable about her Borg components as the Doctor, especially not technology as complex as her cortical node. I'll keep trying, though."
"All right." Until the Doctor returned, it would have to remain a mystery. Chakotay didn't like it, but there was little choice. "Thank you, Tom."
"I'll wake her if you can take her to the cargo bay to regenerate."
Chakotay nodded, standing back to give Tom room. "Of course."
Tom pressed a hypospray to Seven's neck. A second later her blue eyes opened groggily. "Chakotay?"
"Better," said Tom cheerfully. "Welcome back, sunshine."
"What happened?"
"Your cortical node began shutting down. I've stabilized it, but until we find the Doctor or I manage to interpret his notes on your physiology, I can't tell you why it happened."
"If it's not damaged…"
"It's not."
Seven was at a loss as well.
"The Commander is going to take you home to regenerate. You'll need a full cycle and if you experience anything else unusual, let me know."
Feeling too drained of energy to argue, Seven nodded her complaisance.
In a bout of pity, Tom patted Chakotay's shoulder and left them alone. He had all the scans he needed, just not the knowledge to interpret them.
"Come on." Chakotay helped her stand, holding the bedsheet around her as she wobbled a little.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"Ruining our date."
Chakotay shook his head and kissed her cheek. "Don't be sorry. It's definitely not your fault." He kissed her again. "I'm just glad you're okay."
But even as he held her close and initiated the site-to-site transport to the cargo bay, she couldn't help thinking it was her fault. Who else had such problems?
[Mess Hall]
Neelix shuffled into the mess early the next morning to start preparing for breakfast. He was still feeling low. Eager to show off his spices with someone who finally seemed able to handle the harsher stuff, he'd doused their alien visitor's – the Dralian named Gar – meal with hot spice, enough so that he'd claimed to need to go to sickbay. From there Gar had met and possibly downloaded the Doctor. All this Neelix confessed to the Captain. She, naturally, consoled him and tried to make him understand that Gar was the sort to find opportunity anywhere. Neelix was not so easily convinced, unable to dispel the thought that his cooking really was the underlying reason the Doctor was kidnapped. He was, in fact, so wrapped up in thinking about it that he failed to notice Seven until the lights were on and he almost ran into her chair.
"Oh! Seven!" He clutched his heart. "You scared me."
"I apologize. It was not my intention." She returned to staring out the large windows.
"What are you doing, sitting here in the dark?"
"Thinking."
"Don't worry. We're going to get the Doctor back."
The corner of her lips lifted in a partial smile. "While I am concerned for him, that wasn't what I was thinking about."
"Okay." Neelix pulled out the seat next to her. "What then?"
"Intimate relationships."
"Oh." He wasn't really prepared for that.
"And the Borg."
That made more sense to him, though he wasn't sure what the connection between the two was. "Your implants giving you trouble?"
"Yes."
He patted her hand and made to stand up. "Well, don't you worry. Once we get the Doctor back, he'll fix you right up."
"That is the problem."
Neelix froze and settled back down. "What is?"
"There is always a new complication, another defective component." Her gaze fell to her left arm. It lay on the table, seemingly harmless, but it too could malfunction or worse. Even disconnected from the Borg for as long as she was, that single arm had the ability to assimilate everyone on Voyager. "I'll never be…"
"What? Seven?"
"Excuse me." She stood. "I need to start my shift."
"All right, but I'm always here to listen." He watched her leave, concerned and unsure what to do to help even though he could now see the lines her mind was drawing between intimate relationships and the Borg.
"Thank you." She left quickly, her head down and thoughts revolving around her unfinished statement. I'll never be fully human. Chakotay doesn't deserve this.
The whirring sound started again, but she hardened her heart, pushing her emotions away and the sound faded. She realized now that strong emotions were causing the malfunction, but she didn't know why. It was extremely unusual and, she was realizing, very difficult to control.
[Bridge]
Chakotay didn't have time to personally visit astrometrics that day, but he sent Seven a short message asking if she was well enough for dinner later. Her response was disappointing, but understandable. She needed another full regeneration cycle so she would return to the cargo bay directly after her shift.
"Problem?" Janeway glanced over, noting her first officer's frown.
"No, nothing to worry about." He sighed and forced himself to focus on the task at hand. "Let's get the Doctor back."
[Sickbay]
Four days could apparently render many significant changes. The first thing the Doctor heard about when he returned to sickbay was Tom's one and only nighttime patient. He sighed. Of course, it had to be Seven. She was both the healthiest person on the ship and the most prone to critical illness. Not for the first time he cursed the Borg.
"Did they say what they were doing before her cortical node shut down?" The Doctor sat at his desk, reviewing Tom's notes on the incident while Tom stood at the door, eager to go for the night.
Tom shuffled a little uncomfortably. "Well, given the state they were in when they arrived, I didn't feel the need to ask."
The Doctor felt a pang of jealousy to recall that part of Tom's story, but their state of dress wasn't what he needed to know. "I mean, did she fall? Was there any injury that could have initiated the shutdown?"
"Ah, no, they didn't suggest anything like that happened and there were no signs of contusion or injury." He wondered if he should have asked if she hit her head on Chakotay's headboard, but thought that question would just have resulted in Chakotay's fist connecting with his face.
"Very well. Thank you for looking after things while I was gone."
"No problem. It's good to have you back, Doc." This was said with genuine happiness. He could now return to quiet evenings with B'Elanna.
The Doctor smiled briefly, his attention quickly going back to his work. He didn't even hear the swish of the door as Tom left.
[Sickbay]
Seven, who had an appointment with the Doctor anyway, was unsurprised to have him call her to sickbay a little earlier than originally scheduled. She'd braced herself for this. Lieutenant Paris would undoubtedly have told the Doctor about her visit to sickbay as soon as he returned. Now she would either have to explain her theory as to the cause or he would tell her his.
"I'm glad you're back, Doctor." Only the torturous hours of practicing manners with the Doctor allowed her to remember to greet him properly. She was, certainly, happy he was on board again and unharmed, but her nerves were frayed and strained to the breaking point.
It hadn't been 48 hours since the disastrous date with Chakotay and already she was realizing that the more she tried to stop thinking about it – about him – the more her thoughts and emotions turned to the forbidden subject.
"Thank you, Seven. I admit it's exceedingly good to be home." He sighed as they gazed at each other, neither really wanting to begin what they knew would be a difficult conversation.
"You reviewed Lieutenant Paris' report on my medical emergency." Procrastination was inefficient and wouldn't change reality.
"Yes," the Doctor reached for a medical tricorder. "I'd like to do my own tests before I come to any conclusions, though."
"Of course." Seven obligingly went to the surgical bay and lay down. The bed's more sophisticated scanner rose to cover her torso and the Doctor stood at her head, running his tricorder over her forehead.
"Was there any injury prior to your collapse?"
"No."
"Anything unusual that preceded it?"
"I could hear a mechanical sound. Sometimes there was a brief pain in my head."
"Sometimes? This has happened before?"
"Yes, but not to the extent of the other night."
"Just the slight pain and sound?" She nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"They were minor and dissipated on their own."
"It slipped your mind?" He almost smiled at her nod. "And what were you doing when these episodes occurred?"
Seven hesitated.
"Seven?" A bit of pink tinged her cheeks. It was so rare for her to blush that the Doctor immediately drew a fairly accurate conclusion. "I'm a doctor. I can handle it."
"They were always in response to increased emotional stimulus."
"Emo—"
"Seeing Commander Chakotay in sickbay, comatose," she clarified. When I thought our relationship was over. "And when we were physically intimate."
To give him credit, the Doctor didn't bat an eye at the confirmation. "All right. Well, you seem to be in perfect health now." He retracted the biobed's scanner and she sat up. "You can continue your regular duties, but I'll suggest you refrain from any – um – activities that might trigger another episode. I'll contact you when I've finished my diagnostic."
She nodded somewhat stiffly, but before she could leave, the Doctor had his own request.
"Seven, I was wondering if you'd mind doing me a favour? I'd like you to give me a check-up."
"Have you been experiencing problems?" Despite the distraction of her inner anxiety, Seven didn't hesitate to assist him.
"No, but, I've been off the ship for a while, interfaced with an alien computer."
She checked his programming in the computer, a relatively simple process for her. "Your programme appears to be operating within normal parameters."
"Really? What about over the past several days?"
Though he had been away, his mobile emitter had logged his actions and uploaded them to Voyager's systems automatically upon return. She saw nothing to elicit concern. "There's no indication of diminished capacity."
"No problems with my ethical subroutines?"
"None." She was grateful for that since she too clearly remembered what happened the last time his ethical subroutines were removed.
"I see." Rather than making him feel more secure or at all relieved, he was forced to accept the reality of his own choices.
Seven quirked a brow as his shoulders visibly slumped. "You seem disappointed."
"While I was aboard that ship, I poisoned a man."
"Deliberately?" That was very unlike him.
"Yes, I was trying to force him to let me treat patients who were dying."
There was the hint of a smile in her expression, but she smothered it in light of how clearly upset he was by the event. "You were prepared to sacrifice an individual to benefit a collective."
"No offence, Seven, but I don't exactly aspire to Borg ideals."
"You were hoping your behaviour was the result of a malfunction." She could understand that. She'd done many things she wished she could blame on someone or something else. Regret and guilt were two things she knew a lot about. Still, she couldn't lie. "I'm sorry Doctor, but I must give you a clean bill of health."
"Great." He shook his head a little, ashamed of himself.
Seven could see his disappointment, his shame, his natural distaste for what he'd done and yet she thought his actions, assuming his motives were as clear-cut as he said, were perfectly acceptable. "I am not a scholar, but I believe history has many examples of a similar philosophical nature. You cannot save everyone. That you must sometimes choose who you save is—"
"Is difficult enough, but I wasn't making a logical choice between two people to save."
"No, you were sacrificing one to save the many. You do not have to feel good about it, Doctor, but you will have to make peace with it and understand that sometimes choices are not about what is right but what is least wrong."
He stared at her in surprise. "Where did you learn that?"
"Commander Chakotay recommended reading some literature on philosophy." Leaving it at that, she gave him a brief smile and nod and then left.