Running Up That Hill:
A Janeway / Seven Series
Author: ladydameon
Co-Author(s) / Beta: Lain Stardust
General Disclaimer(s): See previous chapter(s).
Chapter 5: Vista
Rating: PG-13 / T
Summary: Captain Janeway leads an away team on a trade mission which becomes an epiphany for Seven of Nine.
Author's Note: Reading the previous chapter(s) is recommended. Paragraphs and lines in italics are either internal thoughts, the other end of a voice communication, or a brief synopsis of earlier events. The alien culture is loosely based on the stereotypical assumptions of how a wolf pack functions. Special thanks to K9-Mom (our personal animal behaviorist) for letting us pick her brain.
Pronunciation Guide:
Inuldea in-ool-DEE-aah: species
Inuldean in-ool-DEE-N: planet name
Deltra dell-trah: clan beta, clan trader
Keercha KEAR-chaah: clan trader's assistant
Tammoi TAM-moy: clan alpha
Verret ver-RET: Tammoi's mate
Zolai zoo-LAY: Deltra's mate
Talloi tal-LOY: Deltra and Zolai's daughter
Cerria see-RYE-ah: clan machinist
"Excuse me. Pardon me." Neelix slipped through the busy crowds, attempting to view the various vendor displays, tables, stalls and shops on the congested Merchant promenade of the Kutain Order Sector Outpost, Talnor.
Finding this station had been a godsend for Voyager, and apparently a lot of other folks felt the same way given the sheer mass attempting to haggle and hustle goods. Despite the recent restocking at the Liratic Supply Depot over a month ago, the crew hadn't been able to construct a suitable replacement magnetic restrictor assembly as the device's ion diffusion chamber kept generating micro fractures throughout the outer casing, which eventually destabilized the entire contraption. The assembly had already failed twice this week.
Although Chakotay and Tuvok had reservations about stopping at the outpost, Captain Janeway negotiated docking rights with Talnor's Station Master and ordered several away teams to locate possible suppliers.
Neelix completely understood the need for caution, especially after the recent pirate attacks on Voyager, but his keen eyes hadn't seen any danger or bad situations someone with common sense could avoid—at least not on the Merchant promenade. Glancing over his shoulder to see how his partner faired and that she was close behind, the Talaxian smirked and realized her wild-eyed look definitely reflected the way he felt.
"This is counterproductive," stated Seven of Nine in a disgusted tone. Even with her height advantage, she was having difficulty browsing the wares or locating anything Voyager could use. The ex-drone clenched her jaw as people continued to bump into and brush against her. To top things off, the noise level was frustrating and difficult to filter out.
"I'm inclined to agree," muttered Neelix as he darted away from the boisterous traders, gesturing for Seven to follow him. "Let's have a bit of refreshment, or maybe brunch, until this morning rush thins out."
"Acceptable."
Smiling, Neelix pointed towards what seemed to be a restaurant. "How about there?"
He led them into a dimly lit establishment, reminiscent of one on the station near the Nekrit Expanse. The distance and darkness acted as a buffer to the people outside—a soothing balm to their frazzled nerves. Neelix certainly felt better just being inside.
Picking a high table towards the back, Neelix weaved his way through the mostly empty restaurant. Something on the floor caused him to stumble and trip over his own feet. In a frantic attempt to regain his balance, Neelix sidestepped a few times to his left, out of Seven of Nine's aiding reach.
The moment his heel stomped solidly onto the floor and he managed to finally right himself, Neelix was flung forward as that particular section of decking decided it didn't want to be under his boot anymore. He stumbled headlong into an empty table, causing it to rattle and screech as it skidded across the floor several inches.
A loud yelp echoed throughout the almost vacant restaurant.
Seven's inquiry to Neelix was halted as a tall, hooded figure rose from a nearby table—next to where Neelix had finally gained his balance. The two Voyager crewmembers stood together, watching as the figure rose to an intimidating two-point-one meters tall and emanated a low, deep growl.
No other patrons made a move to flee or intervene.
The growling individual took a step towards Neelix and Seven. Short, thick claws glinted in the dim light while inspecting the disrespected tail Neelix had inadvertently stomped with his boot heel.
"My apologizes," stammered Neelix, taking a fateful step forward, but he immediately jumped back as a stunted snout filled with pointy teeth snatched and snarled at the air.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
Captain Janeway pinched the bridge of her nose, warding off the growing tension behind her eyes. With a wave of her hand, she leaned back into her chair and commented, "Do we have any good news?"
Chakotay glanced at Tuvok, shifting in his chair slightly. Things on Voyager hadn't been easy lately. If the crew wasn't having problems, it was the ship, and if it wasn't the ship, then it was aliens—a never-ending cycle of conflict and strife.
"Eight of the away teams have checked in, Captain, and only one so far was successful in opening negotiations for trade," answered the commander. Checking his PADD, he added, "Ensign Kim has reported a merchant capable of delivering fifty percent of the requested raw materials within four days." The XO passed the device to the captain.
"Your assessment, Tuvok?" Janeway read the list, mentally calculating how far the raw minerals and ore could be stretched as she attempted to prioritize the various departments' needs.
"I suggest level eight security protocols be observed if you decide to extend shore leave to the crew while at Talnor," the Vulcan answered.
The captain glanced over the PADD, understanding what he was saying. Nodding to no one in particular, she handed the device back to Chakotay. "Alright, see if Harry wants to oversee the exchange and schedule the crew for leave while we wait."
Hearing the obvious dismissal, both men nodded, stood and exited the Ready Room.
Janeway lifted her feet onto the corner of her desk, crossing them at the ankles. Fifty percent, she mused. It wasn't quite good enough. Seventy-five percent was what Voyager actually needed, that extra only acted as a buffer in their usually-dwindling reserves.
Absently, she took a sip of her coffee, rolling her head to glimpse the station through the viewport and sighing. The captain had absolutely no desire to mingle and explore that alien station, which wasn't her normal MO. She was starting to feel listless and fidgety while on duty. Several times in the last week, Janeway found herself prowling the ship at all hours of the night as she was unable to sleep but a few short hours at a stretch. Her stomach rumbled. Also, she was constantly hungry, or so it felt.
Tuvok had suggested level eight security protocols.
Janeway wasn't sure how the crew would respond to a curfew, but it could be extended upon her, Chakotay's or Tuvok's authorization. Additionally, all non-Voyager personnel were to be escorted by a crewmember at all times and restricted to public areas while aboard ship. Unfortunately, this also meant anytime the captain left the ship she would have a full security detail on her heels, and that was the last thing this captain wanted to endure. After all, she had just gotten rid of that damned cane.
The chime sounded.
Bidding them enter, Janeway stayed in position and smiled as Seven entered from the Bridge. "Seven," she greeted, reaching out for the PADD in the Borg's hand.
"Our preliminary trade assessment, Captain," Seven said, offering the device.
"I hope you and Neelix had better luck than the others." Janeway activated the device, reading the detailed list of items to be traded by both parties. "Are you serious?" she inquired, grinning up at the young woman.
"Quite."
Still smiling, Janeway scrolled down to the provided cultural data. "They're canids," she murmured quietly in surprise.
"Neelix and our trader liaison are with the Doctor at the moment and wish to speak with you at your earliest convenience to finalize the trade negotiations," Seven explained as the captain continued to scan the report.
It was almost too good to be true. Deltra, the Inuldean trader, could provide a new magnetic restrictor assembly to their precise specifications. The only catch was they required Voyager to send an engineering representative to their machinist back on their home-world, which was roughly a day's journey from the station, along with whatever raw material was necessary for construction.
"This is all they want?" surprise laced Janeway's voice. She looked up at Seven.
Raising her implant slightly, Seven replied, "Yes, Captain."
Of course, the Borg didn't consider it a small feat as there were several plant species and fermenting processes associated with the final product. It had taken her two hours alone to determine if the necessary plants would be disastrous to the Inuldea ecosystem. Conferring with Voyager's botanist had expedited the research and only confirmed what Seven herself had already deduced from an astrometric scan of the planet, but it was best to be meticulous as she had aptly predicted many of the captain's concerns.
"Well, it looks like you've covered all the bases." Janeway dropped her feet from her desk and stood. She still couldn't believe it. Flashing a lopsided grin, the captain said, "Who would have thought they'd just want pickles."
=/\= =/\= =/\=
"So, how did you manage to score this deal, Neelix?" asked Tom Paris as he leaned on his elbows at the Briefing Room table. "We tried for hours, but couldn't get close enough to talk to anyone."
"Yeah," interjected Kim. "I had to literally push my way to a mining representative."
Smiling, Neelix puffed out his chest slightly. "It was providence. What can I say?"
"That you stepped on the trader's tail," offered Seven, a faint smirk curling her lips.
Immediately, Neelix's chest full of pride deflated. "That too," he chuckled, noting the distinct twinkle in Seven's eyes.
"Alright," Janeway said, stalling the light chuckles from her officers. "Since the crew is being offered shore leave while Voyager's docked at Talnor, I'm going to ask for volunteers to travel to Inuldea."
"I'll go, Captain," Neelix spoke up.
Janeway nodded. She had expected—and hoped—Neelix would continue to offer his assistance until the trade's completion. He was quite the frugal haggler while being an accomplished diplomat. If trouble ever arose, the captain could count on Neelix being able to talk himself out of it one way or another.
"If Lieutenant Torres approves, I would be willing to act as the engineering representative."
"Really?" Torres blurted, blinking at Seven of Nine. She had been hoping to enjoy a few days off with her new husband, Tom Paris, but never expected the Borg to willingly help her out. She thought it might take a bit of prodding and deal making.
"If the Captain is agreeable," Seven clarified, looking expectantly at the captain.
Torres cleared her throat, realizing her outburst might not be well received. With what she trusted was an innocent expression, the engineer looked at Janeway, hoping she saw the subtle signs of an amused smirk.
The captain was hard pressed to keep her expression in check. It would be the ideal solution as she preferred a senior engineer to assist the Inuldean machinist, and she really didn't want to send B'Elanna on an away mission while still relishing the honeymoon phase of her marriage to Paris. Although both could easily be sent, Janeway didn't want to subject anyone to that much marital bliss in close quarters. Of course, she also could tell that Seven of Nine had absolutely no desire to return to Talnor.
Even though the professional relationship between the half-Klingon and Borg had improved, the personal one still needed some work—from both sides. This situation could just help that along.
"Alright, anyone else?" Janeway asked.
"I would like to oversee the medicinal herb and pharmaceutical exchange, Captain."
The Doctor's involvement wasn't truly necessary as the samples had already been provided and thoroughly tested for both parties. However, the hologram hadn't been off ship since his transmission to the Alpha Quadrant in a valiant attempt to cure his creator, and he had been behaving lately. It would be a bit too much for Neelix to oversee the entire trade.
"Permission granted, Doctor," the captain nodded, satisfied with the away team's make-up. "Load up the necessary supplies on the Delta Flyer. I'll make departure arrangements with Deltra."
"Aye, Captain," the designated away team members chorused.
"I would be willing to lead the mission, Captain." Chakotay paused in entering data into his PADD, looking at Janeway. He had no intention of letting her go far without a full security escort.
"That won't be necessary, Commander," Janeway replied, stressing his rank.
"Gamma shift in Engineering would miss the Captain popping in for a few days." Torres smirked. Although she loved how the captain kept people on their toes, herself included, the lieutenant wished Janeway would rile up other departments once in a while on her sleepless nights.
"You didn't say that when the Gamma supervisor hailed you—Ow!" Paris winced as he leaned over slightly to rub his bruised shin.
Torres tossed her husband a dirty look, but her expression was completely neutral as she returned her gaze back to the captain as if nothing had happened.
Quickly smothering her smirk as she decided to ignore the entire exchange, Janeway adjourned the briefing. She wasn't surprised when Chakotay and Tuvok lingered behind.
"This unified front is quite unsettling," the captain commented, leaning back in her chair.
Years ago, the Captain of Voyager hoped her former-Maquis First Officer and Vulcan Chief of Security could put their differences aside to develop a solid, dependable working relationship. She just didn't expect them to use it in some vain attempt to corral her.
"Humor aside, do you believe your participation in this away mission to be absolutely necessary?"
Chakotay was a little startled by Tuvok's directness with Janeway and equally surprised with how well the captain took it. Of course, when he took that approach, it usually led to disaster.
Quickly clearing his throat, the commander added, "I would enjoy having the opportunity to study this culture, Captain." It was the honest truth.
"I appreciate your concern gentlemen, but the bottom line is I need to get off this ship without risk of personal peril." Janeway stood, hoping it would signal her desire to end this discussion.
In the last few months, she's been shot, assimilated, and locked away in her quarters for weeks. She had enough coddling, and it was time for her to re-establish her independence to pre-convalescence levels, especially since she was once again able-bodied.
"Then, may I suggest a security team escort you," Tuvok offered. He had four officers already in mind.
"That won't be necessary, Tuvok." The captain continued before either man could object. "The crew is in desperate need of a break, as am I. Besides, Neelix can talk himself out of just about anything. Seven is perfectly capable of offering any physical protection, and if I do get hurt, I have the Doctor to treat me. A captain couldn't ask for a better away team." With that said, Janeway nodded to the men and left the Briefing Room.
Chakotay sighed as Tuvok raised an eyebrow.
"Maybe we're overreacting?" the First Officer asked.
"Perhaps, but Captain Janeway has the propensity to find trouble." Tuvok left for the Bridge. It was fruitless to speculate once his captain made up her mind.
Once alone, Chakotay sighed in resignation, resting his hands on hips as he glanced out the viewport.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
The away team going to Inuldea had about an hour before their scheduled departure. So far, everything had progressed without a hitch, and all the required supplies were secured on the Delta Flyer.
Captain Janeway walked into an empty Sickbay. She was about to walk out when….
"Captain." The EMH came through his office from the Med Lab. "What can I do for you?"
"It's nothing important," Janeway attempted to slink out of Sickbay, rethinking her motivations. "I can wait until some other time."
However, the hologram was a little faster than she anticipated. He gently hooked his arm through hers and ushered them to a bio bed. "It must be something if you willingly came to Sickbay." The Doctor was slightly relieved and a tad concerned that Janeway just hopped onto the bio bed as he retrieved a medical tricorder. As he ran his scan, he inquired, "What seems to be the problem?"
"I'm starving."
A glib remark was on the tip of his holographic tongue, but the Doctor held it, looking curiously at his captain.
"I eat . . . constantly."
Not finding anything out of the ordinary in his initial scans, the EMH folded up his tricorder.
Seven of Nine had mentioned the captain had sustained a satisfactory nutritional regimen during her rehabilitation, and as far as she was aware, the captain also continued to maintain that routine—actually eating breakfast, lunch and dinner.
In an attempt to waylay her fears and perhaps continue consuming things other than coffee and vegetable bouillon, the Doctor said, "It's only natural for your body to crave additional nourishment. You've been through—"
"Three square meals and a platter of leola root crisps in a day cannot be normal," Janeway retorted.
Retrieving the medical tricorder, the Doctor disengaged the diagnostic wand again and rescanned. "You're still participating in the fitness regimen with Commander Tuvok?"
At his captain's nod, he was about to speak but instead changed a few settings in the tricorder. The EMH closed the device once more and motioned for Janeway to stand up. Quickly, he began a tactile examination: feeling her biceps, triceps, and the various muscles down her back.
Stopping at the thick padding under the uniform at the lower lumbar region, he asked, "This area is still sensitive?"
"Yes, but the padding has helped."
Ever since her de-assimilation, Janeway's lower back had been extremely sensitive to any tactile stimulation, once it got over the initial soreness. Luckily, the Doctor devised a buffer to protect against the friction of garments and any possible contact to the region. They both hoped the skin would gradually become less sensitive and the pad unnecessary.
"I'm not detecting anything out of the ordinary, Captain. Your metabolism has been significantly elevated, which was expected. As for your muscle mass, that could be from prolonged physical activity." The Doctor had a sneaking suspicion that the nanoprobes were also responsible for both alterations. Adding to the mystery, the tactile examination didn't correlate with the muscle density indicated by the tricorder.
It would take further research and observation to confirm, but the EMH believed that the Collective was experimenting with the captain by injecting her with a new type of nanoprobe. These 'new' nanoprobes didn't seem to require traditional regeneration as in Seven of Nine or the Borg children's cases, but rather, they used kinetic energy naturally produced by her own body. However, it remained to be seen how far the nanoprobes would go to 'stabilize' Janeway's physical condition.
"How have you been sleeping?"
With a sigh, the captain responded, "Not much, but I feel rested."
Nodding, the Doctor entered the additional information in a PADD. He had heard talk about Janeway stalking the ship at all hours, more so than usual. Some members of certain departments were starting to get unnerved by the frequent visits—namely Engineering—while others welcomed the captain's company. They took her presence as reassurance that everything was well.
"I've been feeling on edge," she finally admitted.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I figured as much when you volunteered to lead the away mission."
It was only a matter of time before the captain would start to feel smothered. The EMH noticed the crew's tendency to take things easier when Janeway was under the weather or injured. However, what the crew considered easy usually created more drama.
"Well," he said, deactivating the PADD, "it's nothing a good stretch of the legs won't fix. However, I would suggest a healthier snack other than leola root crisps."
The resident Talaxian cook had finally concocted a fairly tasty treat with the never popular leola root. Of course, the EMH really couldn't know if the crew had finally acclimated to the foodstuff's bitter taste, or if the flashed-fried, sugar-coated thin strips were actually good.
The captain nodded, not showing the relief she felt. Part of her was afraid he would force her to take shore leave. "Thank you, Doctor."
"Certainly, Captain." The hologram watched his captain exit Sickbay and smiled.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
[First Night on Inuldea Prime]
Captain Janeway stepped down the aft ramp of the Delta Flyer, inhaling a sweet scent similar to alfalfa and clover on the gentle breeze. She squinted at the setting sun, quickly bringing a hand up to shield her eyes.
There wasn't a cloud in the evening sky.
In the distance, a silhouetted group of three Inuldeans approached through hip-height prairie grasses. Behind them lay a cluster of low mounds that was obviously the clan's settlement and beyond that, on the horizon, a jagged mountain range. Quickly, the captain scoped out the remaining scenery, seeing nothing but flat land and the gentle curve of the earth across the plain.
By this time, Deltra had joined Voyager's away team after securing her small ship two landing pads away, which were nothing more than a circular clearing of loose gravel.
The fact that Inuldea had no orbital stations or docking ports was a bit of a surprise, but considering the species's reverence for nature and living in harmony with their environment, it wasn't really a revelation. For a split second, Janeway felt a tad guilty leading this away mission instead of Chakotay, but that was gone as soon as she stepped off the Flyer. She needed this.
Deltra's assistant sprinted off towards her silhouetted pack mates—approaching them via an arched path. Stopping briefly, she continued towards the village. Janeway paid close attention to how the trader's assistant greeted her pack mates: head lowered, ears lying almost flat, tail almost touching the ground. Obviously, that pack member didn't hold a high station in the order of things.
"Keercha will fetch others and hover carts to assist in moving the essential materials to the machinist's workshop," explained Deltra, her long tail wagging slightly as she showed a moderate amount of teeth—the canine equivalent of a smile. "Our Alpha looks forward to meeting you, Captain."
This was the first time the captain had the opportunity to interact with Deltra in person. Although Seven and Neelix's initial report included images, it didn't quite prepare her for the sheer size of the Inuldeans, as Deltra stood at least a half a meter taller than Janeway.
The best way to describe the species was as humanoid wolves, if one considered Deltra a typical Inuldean. Obviously, from the physical differences between Deltra and Keercha, height, mass and body structure varied as well as fur color. But for the most part, the species had short snouts adorned with sharp teeth, complete with the expected elongated canines. Their hands were broad with stubby fingers that had thick pads on fingertips and palms. Being bipedal digitigrades, the pads under their toes and metatarsal were thick as they wore no additional protective footwear. Deltra had a much thicker, fuller ruff than Keercha, perhaps signifying a difference in age.
As the alpha and escorts got closer, Janeway realized clothing wasn't an absolute necessity for the Inuldeans, given the short, dense fur that covered their entire body, but rather, clothing seemed to display position, much like the captain's pips on her tunic. Was clothing a custom cultivated from interacting with other space-faring species, or was it learned within their own society as they evolved? Deltra's outfit consisting of loose, cropped, dark brown pants cut off at the hock and short-sleeved, v-neck, navy tunic with a full-length, charcoal grey cloak must be off-world attire since the approaching clan mates wore next to nothing.
"Greetings, Tammoi." Deltra slightly lowered her head, ears and tail, diverting her eyes as she bowed to the clan alpha. "May I present Captain Janeway, Alpha of Voyager."
Janeway quickly offered a fair approximation of Deltra's posture. If the center individual was indeed the alpha, the wagging tail was a good sign.
Tammoi greeted Deltra with a short nod. The alpha was a good thirty centimeters taller than the trader with light gray/white coloring and brilliant amber eyes. "Welcome to Inuldea, Captain Janeway."
Slowly, the captain lifted her gaze to the pleased, relaxed face of Tammoi, and she was finally able to notice that all of the Inuldeans present were indeed female, if the small mounds under ornately decorated strips of fabric were any indication. Her scientific curiosity was immediately peaked, but would have to wait for a more appropriate time.
After making eye contact with her guest, Tammoi continued, "May I present my spouse, Verret."
Verret bowed and offered the proper greeting worthy of a clan alpha. She was about Seven of Nine's height with a much slimmer build than Tammoi and Deltra. Her fur reminded Janeway of honey, and her eyes of chocolate.
"And this is Zolai, mate of Deltra."
Zolai's bow and greeting was much more submissive, her fur the color of dust and sand, and her eyes pale amber.
Returning the greetings, Janeway introduced her crew. She was careful to notice Verret and Zolai seemed somewhat off put by Seven's stiff demeanor and erect, proper posture, perhaps thinking she was being aggressive. Their eyes continually shifted from Tammoi and herself, their pointed ears fully forward, searching for clues on how to behave or interpret the stance. However, Tammoi paid no heed to their alertness as she focused solely on Janeway, taking her cues directly from the visiting pack's leader.
Tammoi invited the away team to share their evening meal, and to be guests in her home during their visit. Again, Verret and Zolai seemed unsure, yet did nothing but follow the alpha's lead. Once Keercha returned with hover carts and assistants, the entire group made their way to the village.
Neelix slipped into an easy dialogue with Deltra as the captain and Tammoi continued to converse. The dual conversations seemed to ease some of the tension for Verret and Zolai as they attempted to focus on what was being said, each staying close to her respective mate.
The alphas walked slightly in the lead of the group: Tammoi on the right, Janeway on the left. Verret flanked her wife while following a few steps behind. She curiously observed Seven of Nine, who took a similar position with the captain. The desire to ask was hard to contain, but Verret contented herself by pondering why Seven wasn't introduced as a mate. Her head tilted as her ears were fully forward and her brows crinkled.
Glancing behind her, Verret saw that Neelix and Deltra were deep in conversation. Zolai, on her mate's flank, silently followed, occasionally looking at the alphas and the tense Seven of Nine. Keercha and the others pushed hover carts, seeming unsure about engaging the Doctor.
The simple earth-mound homesteads were very misleading. Upon entering Tammoi's home, which stood slightly separate from the village cluster, Janeway was overwhelmed with the sheer elegance and craftsmanship of the interior.
They entered through the main entrance—a tall, wide set of heavy, wooden double doors, very similar to the simple church doors of medieval Europe—into a large, circular great room. Later the away team would learn that the walls were constructed of sod—a mixture of grass and soil from the prairie—and sealed with a natural tan plaster, which components were plentiful in the foothills to the south. Janeway's gaze traced the massive beams that followed and reinforced the structure. Between each segment, the plaster was beautifully decorated with a mural, some story of the clan or an Inuldean's deed. The floors were a smooth, level sea of polished, natural stone, dotted with a variety of hand-woven rugs. In the center of the room, a massive oval, dark-stained, wooden table stood, its short pedestal an ancient tree trunk, surrounded by brightly colored floor pillows for seating.
Opposite the entrance, the captain spied a few discrete hallways, flanking a large, open kitchen and leading to what she assumed were more private areas. As Tammoi pointed out the more interesting features of her home, she led the Voyager away team to their private quarters. During their brief tour, the crew learned the entire structure was composed of natural and recycled materials. The Inuldeans wasted nothing, not even the by-products of generations past.
Tammoi opened a solid, wood door at the end of a hallway to reveal another circular room, about a quarter of the size of the great room. It was obviously the guest quarters as four sleeping alcoves were shaped into the walls. A small round table with conventional stools stood in the center. Another door leading to an en suite was to the right of the entrance while a set of glass doors opened out onto a private shaded patio, providing a panoramic view of the prairie, the mountains and the lingering remnants of the setting sun.
Excusing herself, Tammoi left the away team to get settled and freshen up before the evening meal.
An hour later, Verret retrieved the away team, leading them back into the great room. Food was still being brought to the table as Janeway was gestured to sit at the alpha's left, whose traditional station was at the end of the oval and opposite the large entrance. The captain felt slightly dwarfed as the thick table top hit her mid chest if she kept her posture erect.
Hope they don't mind elbows on the table, she mused.
Across from Janeway and to Tammoi's immediate right, Verret assumed her typical position followed by Deltra, Zolai and a new Inuldean who appeared much younger and gangly.
Janeway observed Seven's nervousness and nodded at Neelix's subtle gesture indicating his desire to nestle the young woman between them. Much to her mirth, the others didn't fare much better in the height department.
Once everyone was settled, Tammoi said, "Please, eat and enjoy nature's offerings with us."
The newcomer had begun digging in with great fervor, eliciting a low growl and subtle snarl from Deltra. The young female stalled her assault on the platters as her ears folded back and out.
Tammoi saw the amusement in Janeway's eyes as her wife prepared her plate. "We do not usually stand on ceremony, Captain. This is Talloi's first meal with non-clan."
Janeway casually dismissed the incident which prompted the alpha to wag her tail and the young Talloi to visibly relax and resume filling her plate. However, the captain was amiss on how to prepare her own plate as she couldn't quite reach any of the delicious food without getting on her knees. It was then Seven of Nine took the captain's plate and began dishing appropriate amounts of the various foods. Thanking Seven, she caught the slight head tilt and forward ears of Verret.
"Will you not eat, Doctor?" Zolai asked gently.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you. The Doctor is a hologram," Deltra explained excitedly around a mouth full of food.
This realization seemed to erode Zolai's uncertainty for curiosity, but Talloi beat her to the initial punch by asking, "Really? A clan to the south has been experimenting with holographic technology, but as far as anyone knows, they haven't developed anything more complicated than an environment."
Zolai inquired, "But you are your ship's surgeon as well?"
The conversation about holograms and holographic technology between the Doctor, Zolai and Talloi continued at their end of the table while the others went on with the meal.
"Deltra took the liberty of transmitting Voyager's story to us, Captain." Tammoi was pleased the captain seemed to enjoy their food as she gestured to Seven for another piece of prairie fowl. "I must admit, I am humbled by an alpha who would extend protection to an alien clan while offering refuge to a pursued enemy. It is truly an inspirational tale—one I would most assuredly share. However, Deltra also indicated that you recently came through the Liratic systems. I am slightly surprised they were unable to aid you with supplies."
Quickly finishing her drink, Janeway went into explaining how Voyager did have the good fortune to stop at Liratic Prime. After negotiating for supplies, their visit was cut short as the away team got caught in a skirmish with the Northern continent and central government.
Nodding, Tammoi explained, "Inuldea has had a favorable relationship with the Liratic since they started to explore space. However, in the last century there has been a growing discord in the population. Please do not misunderstand me. The Liratic are a kind, generous people, but an appalling faction has settled amidst the self-isolating people of the north."
The captain outlined how they were attacked and chased by a band of what the Liratic Intelligence called pirates, and it was during one of those encounters that the magnetic restrictor assembly was damaged beyond repair. Voyager didn't have the capabilities to refurbish or construct a new one.
"The clan council should just commit resources to eliminating those pests," spat Verret, her posture becoming rigid and hard.
Janeway was surprised by the uncharacteristic outburst. It was also obvious that Tammoi didn't appreciate the commentary. Not wanting to get bogged down with political affairs, the captain attempted to diffuse the situation by asking for more information. "The raiders operate this far out from Liratic Prime?"
"They operate anywhere they can get a foot hold," explained the alpha. "They don't venture here because they cannot get past our solar system alert net nor our planetary defense grid. As for the expanse of their hunting grounds, I wouldn't be surprised if you haven't seen the last of them."
"It's impossible to predict their movements because the ships are always different," added Deltra, pulled from her private conversation with Neelix. "And even if you find the same ship, the crew will never be the same."
Seven refilled Janeway's empty mug, content to remain silent and take in this new information.
"I'm afraid we can't offer any additional information, Captain, for the chaotic nature of the pirates prevents any intelligence from remaining valid for long."
The rest of the evening continued with further generalized discussions about their cultures and traditions. Verret and Zolai eventually became comfortable among the Voyager crew, and started to interact with them more directly, even with Seven and the Doctor. Janeway knew everything would be alright when she saw the relaxed expression of Talloi, complete with tongue hanging out.
Dinner was winding down when the captain felt something touch her leg. Glancing under the table, Janeway smiled at two large, bright blue eyes gazing up at her with a longing expression. Slowly, she moved her hand down, allowing the pup to smell her hand. The question of whether it was a pet or offspring was answered when she saw the diaper the pup was wearing. The blue-eyed pup graciously accepted a gentle pet on the top of her furry head. However by this time, Tammoi twisted to see what had captivated her guest's interest under the table. The alpha released a low growl, a deep rumble in her chest causing the pup to skitter further into the protection of Janeway's lap.
"Hello," Janeway cooed unconsciously in a low, soothing tone. She absently petted the pup. Looking up, the captain saw the tension in Verret, suddenly becoming stiff, ears flat and back against the head. "Is she yours?" the captain inquired softly.
The pup fumbled to stand on her hind legs, front paws pulling their way up the uniform jacket. Janeway could feel the tiny fingers flexing, claws poking through fabric.
Everyone was intent on watching the interaction.
"She is our first," answered Verret, visibly relaxing when Janeway laughed as the pup licked under her chin.
"Sasha," Tammoi scolded as she reached for the pup, who whimpered. She paused in her retrieval as the captain stroked Sasha, calming the youngster. "She likes you."
It was truly a feat as the one-year-old pup hadn't taken to anyone other than Verret and Tammoi. Absently, Sasha started to mouth on the captain's hand, earning a sigh from Tammoi. Suddenly, the pup released a rather demanding 'yip,' looking up at Janeway and garnering another smile. Verret quickly rose, moving to take the pup from the captain's lap. Sasha continued to yip and started howling as Verret disappeared with the pup down a hall.
"I apologize, Captain." Tammoi started.
"It's quite alright. You have a very adorable daughter." Janeway offered.
The alpha's tail wagged as the pride was evident in her eyes.
"And a demanding one at that!" Deltra's laughter was akin to low rumbling chuckles—a cross between a laugh and a rolling bark. "Who else would order a guest to change her diaper?"
=/\= =/\= =/\=
After the conclusion of the evening meal, Tammoi requested Janeway join her on a stroll out into the grasslands. Naturally, the captain agreed, despite the one word protest from Seven of Nine. The air was pleasantly cool amidst a clear sky and a calm sea of tall grasses. They moved slowly away from the village, past the landing pads, and after a few moments of quiet contemplation, the alpha spoke softly so as to not disturb the coming night.
"I'm troubled for you, Captain."
Janeway looked over her shoulder at Tammoi, taken away from her assessment of remote lights, far to the south.
"The raiders that plight this sector will continue to hunt Voyager until they achieve their objective—whatever that may be and for however long it may take.…" Pulling her eyes from the stars overhead, the alpha locked gazes with Janeway, attempting to nail her point home. "I didn't believe it appropriate to speak of such things in front of the others."
One of the two full moons shone brightly over head while its sister just crested the horizon, illuminating everything with a cool blue-white tint.
"What can you tell me?"
There were just some things leaders couldn't discuss among subordinates.
"They're tenacious in their pursuit of property and materials—valuable or not. If they were but a band of thugs and thieves, I wouldn't waste your time, but they are dangerous beyond conventional means, more so because they have a leader." Tammoi paused, shifting her gaze onto the vast plains. "Only the ruthless and the bold survive and prosper. They spider out, seeking the isolated and malcontents of society and bring them into their fold, using them."
"For what purpose?" Janeway asked, never taking her eyes from the alpha.
The captain and crew of Voyager have seen their fair share of bullies and hostiles. They'd always managed to outrun them before.
"A nefarious reason—I have no doubt—but by evading them, stalling their efforts will only attract the more astute hunters as your ship and yourself will become vaunted prizes among them—symbols of power and prestige."
Janeway felt the tension settling in on her shoulders and neck. She took a slow breath as she considered the insinuation of what Tammoi just told her. Voyager was going to be hunted. However, it couldn't be any worse than being chased by Hirogen. Without realizing it, the captain frowned as she looked up into the moon lit sky, the brightest stars twinkling.
Tammoi continued, "You cannot hope to fight them without help, and you will find no help from the Liratic, the Kutain Order, the Inuldeans or, sadly, from anyone within a thousand light-years. These rogues have made a gaping wound upon this region of space. And while everyone believes they are safe, they pay no heed to the signs of weakness and infiltration."
Stopping, the alpha sighed, "I don't wish to lay our problems at your feet, Captain, but I would be negligent if I didn't warn you of your fate."
Something snapped in Janeway, that same something that dared to spit in the face of death and steal a kiss from lady luck. With just a little bit further to go, the only thing those pirates were going to see was Voyager's warp trail. Once upon a time, Captain Janeway didn't believe in Fate, didn't believe her life had a predestined map, but her experiences over the last six years had broadened her perspective. The Universe was full of signs, but it was the free will of the individual that chose whether or not to act upon them.
Slowly, the captain's frown morphed into an impish, crooked grin. She peered at Tammoi out of the corner of her eye. Once she made eye contact, Janeway said, "They'll have to catch us first."
Tammoi released a hearty laugh that rumbled deep in her chest. "A difficult task, I'm sure, Captain."
The joy and night air lightened the mood, lifting the stress and tension from the pair of alphas.
After a few moments, Tammoi said, "We should return home, but first, bay with me."
Janeway watched as the alpha stood her full height, taking a fortifying breath. Tammoi stretched further still, craning her neck out and up as she swung her head skyward. She released a beautiful call. Curious, the captain tilted her head, asking a silent question.
Realizing her guest had not joined in; Tammoi looked once again at Janeway, tongue hanging out slightly to one side. "We howl for our lost, to let them know they haven't been forgotten and that we will always welcome them into our homes and hearts."
This brought a smile to the stalwart captain's face, and as Tammoi prepared to howl once more, she added her own cry for her lost but not forgotten crew. As their voices began to fade out, another voice joined them, then another and another still, until the night air was filled with the combined howls of the clan. When the echoes died away, a faint return chorus came from the direction of the far lights to the south.
The calls gradually ceased, and Janeway stirred from her contemplation of the stars and of family and friends back home, a lone tear slipping down her cheek.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
[The Following Evening…]
With a smile on his face, Neelix carried a basket of foodstuffs for his crewmates, packed with samplings of Inuldean breads, cheeses and dried fruits, the culmination of his efforts with the clan's botanist and favorite chef. He was really quite pleased, and hoped the captain would be as well—perhaps giving him permission to procure some of their spices.
Slipping into their room, Neelix nodded his greeting to the Doctor and Janeway who were in the middle of a rather subdued conversation at the center table.
"It's really quite fascinating how they maintained a pack mentality while developing an outwardly typical humanoid culture," the Doctor commented, peering into the basket Neelix deposited on the table.
"From what I've learned," Janeway picked out a bite-sized piece of dried fruit, surprised at the sweet-tart flavor, "they really didn't start making headway as a global society until the male population decreased."
"Fascinating, do they appear analogous to dogs on Earth?"
By this time, Neelix had finished setting out the variety of cheeses, moving on to the small, pre-sliced loaves of bread.
"Fairly comparable, actually. I've noticed a striking resemblance in their non-verbal communication—even observed several speechless conversations throughout the settlement." Janeway thanked Neelix for the snack. She had literally eaten all day on her tour of the village with Tammoi.
Through the course of the evening, between the two of them, only a small portion of each was left by the time Seven returned from the machinist's workshop.
The trio continued to discuss the Inuldean culture and history. While there were obviously other genus members on the planet, this particular species evolved from a small, isolated population of canid-like ancestors, and was the only one to develop as fully humanoid. Gradually, as the culture grew and as a society developed—reaching a point very similar to that of Ancient Rome on Earth—the male populace of the species began to decrease in number. This all happened approximately four thousand years earlier.
From that time onward, the drive for territory disappeared, taking with it the conflict-driven violence between clans and the predominately male hierarchy. It was the pack mentality that led the mating pairs of clans to share their offspring, giving them to the same-sex pairs within the clan to nurture as their own.
"I don't understand how the biological parents could simply . . . give up their children," stated the Doctor as Neelix excused himself to freshen up before bed.
"It takes a village to raise a child," Janeway commented a bit enigmatically.
She had discussed the concept with the clan historian during the lazy, hot afternoon hours in the cool darkness of a massive underground library filled with thousands of handcrafted tomes. Of course, the entire library was also stored on the clan's central computer core which was connected to the global network—very similar to the United Federation of Planets' civilian network.
During her extensive tour of the village, Tammoi revealed to Janeway the extent of the advanced, camouflaged technology. It was a true example of how machinery could embrace nature in both function and form. The captain tactfully inquired about how Inuldea kept the pirates from invading their system. Without exposing any great secrets, the alpha explained via a command console (located in the bowels of the library) how the alert and defense systems worked, and explained how most spacefarers simply passed their system because initial scans only indicated a primitive culture. If it wasn't for the close proximity of the Kutain Order's outpost, Talnor, the planet would remain totally isolated. The power-dampening shields ensured that even the Borg bypassed them, being that the last Borg encounter was just over a century ago.
After a pause, the captain added, "I doubt it's not so much as giving up a child as enabling other couples to be parents."
The sense of community among these people was quite inspiring. With the outward appearance of a slow-moving agrarian civilization, the Inuldeans were deceptively well-informed and connected to the other villages dotting the planet.
"They really do take considerable care to ensure proper relationships."
Janeway nodded, understanding the implications of the hologram's comment.
In a culture of mostly females and with each clan having only one or two mating pairs, the prospect of certain taboos (that usually spanned into all humanoid customs) was well within the realm of reality. However, the clan historian took great lengths to explain rules of courtship for their young people. She outlined how most young people are apprenticed to other clans that specialize in certain skills or trades. It was during these years of training they sometimes took mates, eventually returning to their home clans.
A lull in conversation settled between the Doctor and Janeway. The captain's eyes looked out into the night of the open patio doors.
Tammoi's first life mate had died in an avalanche while traveling to a distant northern clan, escorting several pups. It wasn't until after the alpha's second pup had left on her apprenticeship that the clan elders urged Tammoi to take another mate—a rare circumstance, indeed.
Allowing her thoughts to drift, Janeway couldn't help but identify with the alpha's situation as she had essentially lost her own mate through time and distance, just another form of death. Despite the growing loneliness, the captain didn't pursue or seek any deeper companionship from her crew. There was Michael Sullivan, but that hadn't been anything close to what the rumors implied.
So mesmerized by the gentle sounds of the night, Janeway never registered that Seven of Nine had finally returned, joining the three around the table. Neelix had apparently slipped back earlier, having finished his bath and his ear was firmly caught by the EMH. Seven sampled the remaining cheese, bread and dried fruit after much insisting by the Talaxian. She was finally brought into the conversation with.…
"You didn't bring anything to sleep in?" The Doctor sounded completely scandalized. He was certain they covered the lessons regarding 'Dressing for Success' and 'Are You a Spring or an Autumn?'
"My bio suit will be quite adequate, as it has been on previous away missions." Seven simply raised her implanted brow at the hologram, not really understanding the necessity of changing garments. After all, she didn't change clothes last night, but of course, Seven had slipped away to the familiar comforts of the shuttle to utilize the portable regeneration unit (PRU).
"You didn't get dirty working?" Neelix asked, eyes dropping down to a grey smear across Seven's outer, left bicep.
Naturally, Seven twisted her arm to inspect the offending dirt. Sure enough, there it was, clear as could be across her left arm. She resisted the urge to sigh. In her usual fashion, she explained the situation to be inconsequential as she could recycle the garment upon returning to the Delta Flyer.
"But not tonight," said Janeway, who now stood with a set of folded clothes next to a sitting Seven of Nine.
The Borg spied that the captain's duffle had been opened and the contents riffled through in a search. Silently, Seven accepted the sleepwear, knowing her ploy to return to the shuttle wouldn't be successful . . . tonight. She was uncertain she would be able to sleep, and preferred the familiar surroundings of the Flyer.
"It wouldn't do you any harm to try and sleep tonight, Seven," the Doctor said cheerfully. "I'm certain you haven't overworked enough to warrant regeneration so soon, especially since you regenerated last night."
Without saying a word, Seven of Nine stood, retreating to the solace of the Inuldean en suite.
It was really quite remarkable. Like the rest of the home, the room was spacious and functionally equipped, stylishly decorated with natural stone and intricately carved wood. The en suite's sonic shower (with an optional hydro setting) and oversized bath were both lined with reddish tiles that were obviously handmade (so they were told) from the clay of the foothills.
A large skylight over the tub displayed another cloudless night.
Glancing at her reflection, Seven inspected her garment. In the course of assisting the Master Machinist and her gaggle of journeymen and apprentices, she had indeed soiled her bio suit. There was another one packed in her mission duffle, as was standard away mission procedure, but Seven really didn't wish to rest in her assigned sleep alcove. She found the idea of that much earth and weight suspended over her while she slept slightly unnerving.
Striping and making quick work of her grooming, she slipped into the provided sleepwear, privately pleased by the color and texture of the fabric. The blonde idly fingered the soft, smooth fabric. A small smile ghosted her lips as she considered her affinity for the garment, and how it strangely resembled the same material of one of Janeway's two dresses—a powder blue that intensified the captain's eyes.
Did Kathryn remember? she mused, inspecting the two-piece pajama set in a large mirror over a carved stone basin. Loose and comfortable were the long sleeves and pants in a pastel mauve with light, grey pin stripes. Her chest had a strange fluttering feeling, but as soon as Seven focused on the sensation, it was gone.
Slowly, she lifted her arms, pulling the pins out of her hair. It was then she caught the familiar scent of sandalwood with just a touch of lavender—the unique scent of Janeway. The smell had been transferred from the garment being packed in the captain's duffle. Again, her heart fluttered. Not really focusing, Seven ran her hands through her hair, helping it to settle and relax.
Eventually, she quietly returned to the main room.
"Now, don't you feel better?" inquired Neelix with a smile on his face. He turned back to adjusting the blankets on his bed. "I really don't know how you can wear those bio suits—the fabric is so scratchy."
That seemingly offhand comment from the Talaxian sparked the Doctor into another bout of heavy (if not one-sided) conversation regarding fashion. It was also this moment the captain took her leave to prepare for bed. Twenty minutes later, she returned to find both men still talking, making commentary about each other and the crew's lack of fashion sense.
Hair damp and bare footed, Janeway sat next to Seven at the table, donned in her short-sleeved, periwinkle night clothes with the mandarin collar and three-quarter length pants. They both listened as Neelix and the Doctor continued.
"Have they been at this the whole time?" Chin in hand, Janeway leaned her elbow on the table, cutting a glance from the two men to the ex-drone.
"Yes." Irritation laced the Borg's simple answer. There was a pause before the younger woman said with an infrequently used warm, soft voice, "Thank you, Kathryn."
The captain smiled, lighting up her eyes. "How did your day with the machinist go?" she asked, watching the blonde's glance dart back and forth—from her eyes, to the table and back.
Subconsciously, Seven sat up a bit straighter, watching the Doctor speak animatedly. "We made significant progress, having completed construction of the ion diffusion chamber, and I estimate the entire assembly shall be finished tomorrow evening. Cerria and her apprentices are quite efficient." She paused to look directly at Janeway, pleased at having the captain's undivided attention. "You should visit their workshop, Kathryn. I believe you would find it rather remarkable."
Hearing Seven call the captain by her first name (for the second time), Neelix subtly shifted his gaze to the two women.
The Doctor never noticed.
"It was our intention during the tour." Janeway smiled, running her hand through quickly drying hair. It was light and free, wisps dancing in the gentle breeze blowing in from the still opened patio doors. "But, I got distracted by a horde of children."
This particular Inuldean village had two mating pairs. Every other year, the couples would alternate, giving birth to an average of four pups. During the Sollestum—their equivalent of a siesta—the Doctor had explained that the number of pups was steadily decreasing, and that the physicians theorized the dominate markers of the Y-chromosome were responsible.
"Indeed." Seven had observed Janeway mingling with the toddlers and pre-adolescent youths. Many of them seemed to have taken an instant liking to the captain, and she to them. "They have a refining process that surpasses Federation procedures, and I believe it could be replicated on Voyager."
"Oh?"
"Lt. Torres estimated the magnetic restrictor assembly would require 80 kilograms of unrefined ore. However, using their refining process, the project will only use 40 kilograms. I have taken the liberty of requesting the remaining ore be refined. They were happy to do so as it provided a learning opportunity for the apprentices."
Now, the captain grinned openly at the younger woman. In her elation, she totally missed the display of Seven dipping her head and glancing away briefly only to return with a hesitant, tiny smile.
If they could manage to trade for the refining process and if it could be utilized onboard ship, it would double the reserve capacity and free up precious cargo space.
Refocusing on Seven, Janeway said, "I'll be sure to speak with Tammoi about it tomorrow."
The captain already had a similar conversation with the alpha about Federation replicators as Deltra had expressed an interest in the technology from her time on Voyager. Of course, during the initial discussion, there was the usual disclosure about the barter of technologies (from both sides), but Tammoi wasn't interested in an actual working replicator, only interested in the research associated with how the replicator operated. Tammoi went on to explain that Inuldea maintained very strict regulations on any energy-based systems, and although Federation standards were very close, the functionality of the replicator would have to be completely redesigned. Janeway vaguely remembered Deltra alluding to such a state of affairs, even commenting that such a device would never be cleared for use on planet—reserved for stellar travel only.
Neelix had seen the entire exchange, quickly filing it away for further thought, and was once again drawn into a conversation with the EMH—about night clothes.
"Now wait a minute," stammered the Talaxian, looking down at his slanted checker-pattern nightwear of navy and grey Norcadian satin. "These are perfectly good pajamas."
"Please, it's a miracle you don't lay down at an incline."
The pair continued their fashion tête-à-tête, which naturally returned to the crew's tastes.
Long after everyone had settled for the night, Janeway slipped out of bed to peek out at the moonlit prairie.
The first moon was starting to slip below the horizon while the second hung high in the clear sky, blocking the stars, and the air was cool and crisp as the heat of the day had long left the soil.
Closing the doors, but leaving the curtains drawn, the captain turned to crawl back into bed but paused at seeing Seven of Nine curled tightly in a fetal position under her blanket, shivering. She retrieved the blanket from the Doctor's alcove, and carefully covered the ex-drone. Gently, Janeway tucked the blanket around Seven's shoulders. As she pulled away to finally return to her still warm bed, her fingers slipped through soft, corn silk fine hair, made platinum in the Inuldean moonlight.
Hearing the quiet rustle of a blanket, Seven opened her eyes to see Janeway settling on her side, her back facing out as one foot hung out from under the covers. It didn't take long for the older woman's breathing to slow. A sense of contentment washed over Seven as her body warmed and relaxed under the additional weight and warmth of the second blanket.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
[During the Sollestum…]
"Not sleepy?" Neelix asked Seven of Nine as he cooled himself with a grass-woven hand fan, enjoying the view from their private patio.
The air was still as the temperature had risen a good fifteen degrees since yesterday, but the shaded flat stone of the private patio continued to reflect coolness well into the heat of the high, mid-afternoon sun.
"Not currently." Seven replied, finally sitting down next to Neelix. She had stood sentry for the last ten minutes, just watching the prairie in her attempt to understand the captain's fascination with the landscape. But Seven found herself distracted and was instead focused on listening to the captain's light snores from a sleep alcove—not the quiet company of Neelix, who only became aware of her presence one point three minutes ago.
"Are you?" The stressful rigors of 'small talk' never seemed as taxing with the usually contented Talaxian.
"A little, but I wanted to enjoy the scenery and fresh air." He was pleased to have volunteered for this mission. It was almost a shame the entire crew couldn't experience this place—almost. Sipping on his cold, fruity refreshment, Neelix gazed out into the endless sea of quivering grass.
Large, fluffy white clouds slowly drifted across a brilliantly blue sky.
"May I ask you a question, Neelix?"
Blinking a few times in surprise, he replied, "Of course, Seven."
There was no telling what the Borg would ask him. It could literally be anything. However, the Talaxian believed he could reliably handle anything given the odd barrage of questions the crew subjected him to at alarming frequency.
"Is the practice of homosexual pairings common?"
Thinking for a moment, not really astonished but perhaps a tad disappointed over the rather mundane question, Neelix answered, "I would guess so depending on the society. Why do you ask?"
"I have been observing this culture…," Seven paused in her answer, as if that would explain everything. She assumed Neelix would have noticed the same-sex couples, the obviously limited number of males. How could anyone not? It was a fundamental distinctiveness of the species. However, the young woman hadn't been privy to the conversation between the trio yesterday, either. "Do humans engage in such pairings?"
"Well, Voyager does have a few homosexual and bi-sexual crewmembers. I even think there's an established couple in the lower decks."
Now, there was a tiny voice in Neelix's head that questioned why Seven of Nine was asking him, of all people, these questions.
"I have never noticed that particular arrangement. Is it a new development?"
Brows furrowed as Neelix attempted to remember, vaguely recalling a series of anniversaries he helped plan, and even orchestrated, for the crew. "No, they've been together since shortly after Voyager was stranded. Almost five years if I had to guess." He paused, turning to view Seven fully. "I thought the Borg would be familiar with homosexuality."
His little voice piped up again, a little bit louder this time. Certainly she's done research on all aspects of human sexuality? She did observe Tom and B'Elanna for several weeks….
Feeling inadequate due to her lack of information, Seven replied, "Such information would be considered irrelevant for a drone's function within the Collective."
"Ah." Neelix paused briefly before he continued. "So, I guess the Borg never put much stock in reproduction since they can just assimilate."
"Correct." Seven glanced back in the room as the captain's snores stopped, but she returned her focus to Neelix as they resumed. "Pursuing a same-sex paring would be an acceptable behavior onboard Voyager?"
"Oh, I would think so. A majority of the crew is quite accepting—only a few get a little uneasy over the matter. I know for a fact the senior staff has absolutely no problems with it. Aside from Commander Chakotay, he had a bit of a misunderstanding with the lower deck couple a few months ago."
Seven frowned, slightly. "I have not heard about that incident."
Clearing his throat, Neelix offered, "Well, nobody really likes to talk about it, and it might have occurred while you were off ship . . . possibly." Suddenly, he stopped fanning himself. "You really had no idea?"
Everybody had heard about the 'misunderstanding' between Commander Chakotay and Voyager's token gay couple, or so Neelix thought.
Tension was settling in Seven's neck and shoulders as she answered, "No, the Doctor did not mention that as an option during his dating tutorials."
"No, no, I meant about the incident." Neelix waved his fan in the Borg's general direction to emphasize his point. Of course, he was promptly countered with a quite intimidating glare. Releasing a non-committal sound, Neelix turned away, busying himself with retrieving his beverage. After a satisfying sip as a suitable diversionary tactic, he said, "Shame, I'm sure quite a few ladies would love the chance to date you, Seven."
"Perhaps."
That was where their conversation ended. Eventually, Neelix drifted off to sleep, content to keep his musings to himself while Seven of Nine continued to stare out into the open plain.
Questions formulated as the young woman took stock of her newly gained perspectives, her thoughts analyzing past experiences. She couldn't help but still feel disappointed in the Doctor's long ago lessons on dating, where her initial frustrations revolved around his blatant disregard for her feelings—hidden but always present. Seven had taken the hologram's interest in her development at face value, never believing he would use her societal naivety for personal gain. The fact that it wasn't the EMH's original objective was irrelevant. He should have never allowed himself to be drawn into such a dilemma, especially at a friend's expense.
So, Seven of Nine thought.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
[The Last Day on Inuldea]
"That has to be one of the cutest things I've ever seen." The Captain of Voyager smiled, intently watching the game with a gleeful glint in her eyes.
A whistle sounded, signaling the end of a play.
Notwithstanding the cute aspect, Seven of Nine raised her implanted brow at the scene before her, having to admit that there was a certain degree of physical prowess necessary for such an active and tactile sport.
Quickly, the group of adult Inuldeans formed two separate lines, one facing the other. Each line's formation varied as the participants shifted on their feet, tails wagging as they waited for the whistle to blow—signaling for action.
Neelix shared a look with Seven, not understanding Janeway's delight over the canids giving chase to each other all in the hopes of gaining possession of a small, round ball. To him, it looked downright painful as they slammed into each other, pawing and barking—some even tangling down onto the ground in a mass of furry limbs. However, this was one of their favorite sports, designed to promote teamwork and solidarity among the clan while enabling healthy competitions between clans.
Suddenly, the mass of spectators leapt to their feet in a barking cheer after what must have been a particularly exciting moment. The away team craned to peer around and above heads and ears as one of the visiting players ran the ball down the field. The interception did not go unpunished as one of Tammoi's clan tackled the runaway player, causing the ball to tumble free onto the ground. This naturally led to a dog pile over the wayward ball.
The impromptu game continued for over an hour, ending right before the midday meal and sollestum, giving the two senior members of the visiting clan ample opportunity to speak with Voyager's away team. Their pleading invites to travel home with them were deftly parried, at least as far as Seven of Nine was concerned. Captain Janeway was already somewhat perturbed about being behind schedule thanks to the day's festivities, but she couldn't refuse the bounding adolescents that proclaimed she would love the sport.
And she did, immensely.
As the last of the cargo was finally loaded onto the shuttle, Janeway took one last look around the prairie. She was going to miss this place and forever be thankful for this particular away mission. It was exactly what the captain needed to soothe her anxieties and nerves, to allow her to once again find her center.
In the distance, Neelix and Deltra were sharing trader secrets.
The Doctor and Zolai had just completed their goodbye, finally heading separate directions.
With mild curiosity, Janeway observed as Verret meandered towards Seven, who was securing the exterior cargo door of the Flyer's hold. However, a sharp yip pulled the captain's attention downward.
"Hello," Janeway said, bending over to pick up a toddler-pup. "Are you supposed to be out here?"
Sasha only responded by nuzzling and licking the underside of the captain's chin, earning a low chuckle. Her tail wagged fiercely, causing her small body to shake within Janeway's grasp.
"I would love to take you with me." Janeway absently stroked the soft, short fur. Not for the first time since arriving, she missed Molly back on Earth. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Talloi indirectly approaching her flank, out of sight of Tammoi and Verret. "However, I don't think your mothers would appreciate it very much."
Talloi panted with ears back as she came up to the captain. "Oh, thank you for finding her, Captain." The adolescent reached for the content pup, only to snatch her fingers away from Sasha's snapping teeth. Her tail dropped as she saw Tammoi walking towards them.
"Actually, I think Sasha found me." Offering an affectionate but speedy farewell, Janeway handed Sasha over to Talloi, sending them off before the alpha reached them.
The hard flash in Tammoi's gaze did not go unnoticed by anyone, but decorum luckily spared Talloi, for the moment. The alpha sighed as she stopped to stand next to Janeway, watching the children return home. It was a tossup—be disappointed in Talloi or impressed by Sasha.
The captain merely offered a small smile. Her eyes were slowly drawn back to Verret and Seven of Nine talking by the shuttle.
Hesitantly, Verret had joined Seven of Nine at the Delta Flyer's aft ramp. Seeing Tammoi approach Captain Janeway in the distance, she started wagging her tail. "Your alpha has the markings of an excellent leader," pausing, she looked over at the ex-drone and added, "and mate." Tilting her head slightly as her ears went forward, Verret tentatively asked, "Is she mated?"
"No." There were the natural rumors of affairs and scandalous trysts devised on the lower decks, but that was all they were, at least as far as Seven of Nine could ascertain. "What marks an alpha as an excellent mate?"
Verret's ears slowly rotated and twitched, her head tilting the other direction as she weighed Seven's question. "In general, an alpha is selfless in her desire to provide for and protect her clan. Only after all other's needs are met, does she take for herself—a trait which usually transfers to her friendships and romantic involvements."
"Such notions contradict the allowances of preferential treatment a clan affords an alpha."
"Very true, but those allowances are more a show of respect, loyalty and even the trust a clan has in the alpha's capabilities as her position is governed through her merit and skill—not solely by prestige or privilege. No alpha can maintain a healthy clan by ruling with force and fear, at least, not for very long," Verret explained. "From what I have learned of your clan, it operates under the same basic principles."
"Voyager maintains and operates in a military command structure established by Starfleet protocols."
Already knowing this, Verret nodded, but sought further explanation. "You're not a part of that structure?"
The answer to that very question was continually evolving for Seven of Nine. She took her position as fact and her duties as circumstance of that position. Yet, she had never once sought clarification to whether or not she had the credentials to function as a senior officer of a Starfleet vessel. Captain Janeway had simply placed her into the Astrometrics Officer position.
"No, I function as a civilian contractor within the hierarchy."
There had actually been some gossip over the whole affair. Several science crewmen were excited—especially those four comprising Stellar Cartography—over the addition of a senior officer position. Given Voyager's ship classification, the vessel had no practical application for a full-time senior science officer when only preliminary scans and investigations would be conducted. Those reports would then be transmitted to Starfleet's Science Division Head who would decide if further research and exploration was warranted by a better equipped ship and crew.
"I see," Verret bowed her head, noticing the stray bits of grass peaking through the loose gravel of the landing pads. When she raised her head, she smiled and opened her mouth to speak….
But before anything could be said, the Doctor trotted up the access ramp with a cheerful nod to Verret. It was obvious from his humming and tinkering at an aft control panel that he wasn't going to leave anytime soon.
Losing her nerve, Verret offered Seven a last goodbye which was graciously received. She quickly returned to the side of Tammoi.
Seven searched the horizon as Neelix made his way into the Delta Flyer. Her eyes followed Deltra as she joined Tammoi, Verret and Janeway. Even with her enhanced hearing, she couldn't quite make out what was being said. After a few moments of watching, Seven turned and entered the shuttle to begin the pre-launch sequence. The captain would want to return to Voyager as soon as possible.
Janeway shifted as the hairs stood up on the back of her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, Janeway saw Seven of Nine watching her while Deltra and Verret gave their final farewells. A distinctive, high-pitched whine signaled the Flyer's pre-launch sequence. Janeway turned, but was stopped by a hand on her arm.
"You will always be welcome on Inuldea, Captain." The alpha's words were sincere, but her gaze hinted at fear. Sensing herself too open, Tammoi schooled her features and released the captain.
Janeway merely nodded before trotting the short distance to the shuttle. With one boot on the access ramp and the other still on the earth, she stopped and turned, watching Tammoi, Verret and Deltra clustered together. Her eyes squinted, attempting to discern any hints of a conversation, but in the dimming light, the captain couldn't even tell if they were speaking. Finally, she turned away, closing the ramp as she headed towards the cockpit.
As the Delta Flyer gracefully rose, Deltra spoke, "We should have told her."
Verret replied, "We had no choice." Maybe if she said the words aloud, she would believe them.
Sighing, Deltra couldn't bring herself to be angry. "There's always a choice."
Tammoi agreed with the sentiment, but she had faith in Captain Janeway's abilities. "Even if we had told the Captain, it wouldn't have made a difference." The council had made its decision.
By now, the Delta Flyer was long out of sight, on its way out of the solar system.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
[Meanwhile, onboard Voyager…]
"I am not going to miss this place," stated Lt. Tom Paris as he entered a series of intricate commands to ease Voyager away from one of Talnor's docking gangways. Of itself, the task was simple. It was the ship traffic and erratic congestion zipping around the station that made Paris bite his lip.
The helmsman glanced upwards, eyes wide and slightly startled as an audible hiss and scrape traveled across the primary hull—over his head. He really didn't want to contemplate exactly how much pressure was necessary to force Voyager's plating to shift and buckle in such vocal duress.
A slightly disgruntled smirk crossed Chakotay's face as he resisted the urge to shake his head. He certainly didn't want the job of guiding Voyager out into open space since he already had his own share of traffic.
The last few days had been far from uneventful with the steady flow of cultural differences reports continually (and perhaps spontaneously) appearing on his desk. Although a welcomed change of pace, it wasn't something the commander wanted on a permanent basis. Thankfully, things had been quiet since the Delta Flyer's departure several days ago. Ship operations were business as usual. Harry Kim successfully completed the trade of raw minerals and ore which B'Elanna Torres eagerly and efficiently allocated to ever greedy (and needy) departments. The ship was certainly shaping up from her previous frazzled state since the pirates started their chase.
A sequence of sharp clangs sounded throughout the Bridge, causing the First Officer to quickly tap at his console to his right. Seeing nothing on sensors to indicate the source of the grating sound, Chakotay slyly glanced at the empty chair to his immediate right. Of its own accord, his gaze rested on the Ready Room's doors. He expected the captain to burst out, giving Paris a hard time.
"There's nothing to worry about, Commander." Ensign Kim looked up from his readings, eyes blurry from working double shifts in Engineering. "The station's antiquated environmental system has broken down. Station Central Control has been notified of the situation."
"Do they require assistance?" the XO inquired while thinking, Spirits, I hope not….
Although the opportunity for a safe harbor was always welcome, many of the intrepid crew were ready and willing to continue their journey. The interest and thrill of the ultra-capitalistic station merchants had undoubtedly worn off.
"Negative, sir," Kim promptly replied, eyes once again fixed on his console. "The malfunction was limited to the secondary concourse of Voyager's gangway and successfully sealed for repair."
"Alright, set a course to rendezvous with the Delta Flyer at the pre-established coordinates," ordered the commander as he leaned back in his chair.
"Aye sir," called out the helmsman. His fingers danced across the panel and his nerves settled as Voyager gracefully slipped further from the station. "Course laid in at Warp 3."
It would take Voyager roughly a day to reach the away team at the lower warp factor. Naturally, this had been a topic of great discussion between the three senior-most officers prior to the captain's departure, but given the status quo, the feisty woman got her way. Of course, it was extremely helpful that Lt. Torres unequivocally stressed the magnetic restrictor assembly was on its last legs, as the patching of the last repair that temporarily fixed the initial break would not survive any further misuse—and unfortunately, misuse included simply functioning.
Chakotay released a silent sigh. His hackles were up for some reason, not able to shake the sensation of a predator stalking in the distance, waiting to strike. Although the layover at Talnor was short, it provided ample opportunity for the pirates to locate and catch-up with them.
As the starship limped away without her characteristic speed and maneuverability, Voyager was woefully more vulnerable to attack. The commander could only hope no one onboard the station transmitted their projected flight path.
"Engage," he ordered.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
With booted feet comfortably propped on the side of the flight control console, Captain Kathryn Janeway idly watched the stream of sensor data tick across the heads-up-display (HUD). Occasionally, she would pause long enough to gaze at the streaking star field and enjoy a sip of steaming coffee.
For several hours, the cockpit of the Delta Flyer had stayed blissfully quiet as Seven of Nine regenerated on her PRU, Neelix slept in an aft bunk and the Doctor had deactivated himself. They were still at least a day out from rendezvousing with Voyager, but despite the calm of the trip, Janeway kept replaying her last conversation with Tammoi. The conversation itself didn't hint at any secret meaning other than to be on the alert, but the nagging question was be on the alert for what? There was no possible way the Inuldeans could have ascertained their heading until after they left.
Janeway sighed. She hated this, hated the constant paranoia that made her suspicious of every dark corner or leery of any smiling alien. These feelings had worn her down the last few years. She'd almost rather skirt past an interesting spatial anomaly rather than stop for a quick peek or even a few scans. However, this latest away mission had been, without a doubt, a resounding success with the procurement of a fully functional and compatible magnetic restrictor. So, these feelings were even more irritating than usual.
Her mind drifted as she continued to assess the sensor readings. Somewhere along the way her feelings of paranoia shifted to a sense of knowing. The data continued to trickle across the HUD. Absently, Janeway dropped her feet onto the deck, and finished the still steaming coffee. The hot liquid burned as her senses seemed to extend beyond the raw data.
Someone was out there . . . following them, watching—waiting.
Five minutes passed as the captain loosely held the yoke, her eyes still fixed on the ticking data. Was the data lying? Had her paranoia finally gotten out of control? Was she seeing threats where there were none.
Just as she was about to relax again and allow herself to believe it was nothing, Janeway saw it—a slight discrepancy in the tidal-like flow of the surrounding ionized space dust. Her mind raced as she displayed the projected currents with real-time. Quickly, she demanded a series of scans. All returned negative or inconclusive.
For nearly twenty minutes, Janeway continued to refine her query.
"Patient, aren't you?" the captain asked no one in particular.
Her gut insisted that someone was tailing them. She ordered the computer to run another set of scans and analyses. Sure enough, there was a small subspace disturbance off the starboard stern—hidden in the Flyer's narrow blind spot and aided by the reflecting qualities of the ionized space dust riddling this sector. Normally, the said disturbance wouldn't be cause for concern or the computer would have triggered a proximity alert, but it was common for similar phenomenon to blink in and out on sensors when traveling through the fringes of specific dying nebulas. However, this object had maintained perfect distance with the shuttle for at least the last hour.
It had to be some form of stealth.
Quickly, Janeway brought up a detailed sensor grid for the immediate light-year. Their initial course was to drop out of warp and arc under the nebula on impulse, bypassing the larger pockets of unstable gas and damaged subspace created from the dispersing nebula. However, if something nudged the Flyer just right, they would end up in a massive pocket and be reduced to thrusters—sitting ducks.
Suddenly, the proximity alert sounded. A small shuttle was sweeping in from upper port on an indirect intercept vector. If all three vessels held course, they would converge on the underside of the nebula, amidst the pockets.
Janeway tapped the side console, sending out a standard greeting to the inbound shuttle. Follow protocol; give the inbound ship the benefit of the doubt.
A minute passed with no response. Then two, followed by three….
Time was quickly running out for this encounter to be a peaceful one.
"Red Alert, all hands to battle stations."
Immediately, the Flyer was plunged into sober darkness laced with the slow flashing of a dull red as the klaxons sounded. The other three crew members entered the forward compartment, taking their stations. The captain barked out a series of orders. Seven readied weapons. Neelix located the largest pocket of unstable gases intersecting their current course. The Doctor monitored the subspace disturbance still trailing off the starboard stern.
The incoming alien shuttle continued to arc closer, still not responding to hails while the stealth ship slipped nearer.
A massive pocket of gas was directly ahead. The Delta Flyer was going to have to drop out of warp to maneuver around the obstacles of flammable gas and damaged subspace pockets.
"Deploy a torpedo into the gas pocket directly ahead, on my mark," order Janeway, her grip settling on the yoke.
"Understood," Seven replied, entering the necessary commands.
"Igniting those gases will expose you to dangerous levels of synchrotron radiation. The shields can't offer reliable protection at this distance." The Doctor leapt from the aft station, hurrying to grab the appropriate med kit. Maybe he could find the appropriate hypospray to protect against toxic exposure before the captain got trigger happy.
The potential exposure to radiation was the last thing on Janeway's mind. Her eyes were still fixed on the ticking sensor data tracking the stealth ship. It was still edging closer….
Dropping the Flyer out of warp, Janeway slammed the yoke forward, causing the shuttle's nose to dip down. "Now!" she ordered, engaging the impulse thrusters for additional maneuvering speed.
As the shuttle arced under the pocket, Seven fired a photon torpedo. The gases exploded as Janeway pulled back, pulling the Flyer upward while swinging around another pocket of gas. She zipped around the obstacles, darting by additional pockets of gas, damaged subspace and stray asteroids held within the slight magnetic field of the nebula. All the while, she was highly cognizant of the deadly chain reaction gaining on them.
As one pocket burned and its gases gradually dissipated, the unstable gases fanned outward, eventually touching another pocket and another. Each, in turn, ignited and created a violently unpredictable daisy chain.
"An anti-matter explosion was detected, igniting adjacent gas vacuoles," Seven calmly stated. Her fingers moved across her board.
The anti-matter from the stealth ship escalated the already precarious situation.
"A second ship's heading right for us!" Neelix bounced in his seat.
The shockwaves from the exploding gases were merging into a single wave, continually increasing in mass and rate of consumption while the Flyer dodged this way and that.
Suddenly, a phaser blast sliced into the Delta Flyer's shields, causing the familiar blue/white sparkle.
"Idiots!" spat Janeway as she banked the shuttle hard to port, scraping her shield bubble against the alien's own. Just a little bit further….
Abruptly, the Flyer was jolted upward and then immediately down again as they were no longer ahead of the shockwave but slowly slipping into it. The shields were weakening rapidly from the constant bombardment. Janeway entered a barrel roll, allowing the shuttle's reinforced keel to take the brunt of the blasts; plus, the ventral shield emitters were still holding at eighty percent. They had almost made it to the safety of the nullifying gases of the nebula's center when the Flyer's main power went down.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
"Torres to the Bridge," snapped the Chief Engineer, slapping her combadge. Her intense stare was fixed on the hissing magnetic restrictor assembly mounted in its cozy nook between the warp core and the aft plasma conduit access panels in Main Engineering. She could actually see the piece of machinery start to vibrate under the stress.
"Go ahead."
The Engineering staff fluttered about in a vain attempt to stall the inevitable—the assembly was failing. Steam and smoke slowly seeped out of the power flow junctions connecting to the device.
"Commander, we need to drop to Warp 2—now." Before a response was given, Torres rushed to add, "Or we'll lose warp completely!"
The hissing was piercing now, but luckily, as soon as it started, it stopped as Voyager dropped down to Warp 1.5. In that moment, Torres felt the ship enter a more natural state. The vibrations throbbing through her boots were the tune of low warp—a deep pulse that thumped like a heartbeat through a vein. Quickly, she grabbed a repair kit and dropped down into the small floor compartment.
"Status."
Torres almost forgot about the open comm-link. Snapping open a tricorder, she replied almost automatically, "The stress ratio has returned to acceptable parameters, but we can't risk anything higher than Warp 2."
"Understood."
With that, Chakotay closed the comm-link.
She could hear his frustration despite his quiet demeanor, but there wasn't anything she or anyone else could do about it until the captain returned—hopefully with a fully functional, ready-to-install assembly. In the mean time, Torres was determined to eek every last bit of life out of the failing restrictor.
Grabbing a PADD, Torres started entering her findings, composing a report for Kim and Paris to help them better gauge and understand the ship's temporary limitations.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
"It's a good thing I'm a hologram or I'd be quite the decorative splatter on the ceiling."
The captain blinked a few times as the world came into blurry focus. She squinted, forcing her burning eyes to adjust to the bright, ambient, blue-green hue of the nebula. Weakly, Janeway attempted to twist to assess the rest of the crew, but it was all for naught as she was firmly held stationary.
The Doctor waved a dermal regenerator over Janeway's right temple. His photonic fingers holding the patient's chin a tad tightly. "Before you ask, the crew is fine, just a few scrapes and bruises. I wish I could say the same about the shuttle." Finished with his masterful first aid, the Doctor released Janeway from his tender mercies. "You have a mild concussion, as does Mr. Neelix, but no one is worse for wear."
Now, the captain freely took stock of the forward compartment. Smoke filled the air, taking on an underwater quality from the nebula's glow. She swallowed, noticing the scratchy feeling in her throat.
Suddenly, the Doctor pressed a hypo-spray against her neck. "That should help with any residual pain and keep you hydrated. You're going to need it," he explained, finally stowing his equipment in a small med kit and stepping to the aft station.
Before the captain could ask about the Flyer's status, the hatch hissed open, admitting Seven of Nine carrying a repair kit, followed by Neelix. Noticing Janeway's conscious and alert status, she said, "Communications, environmental control, navigation and impulse are all offline, damage nominal. I estimate 4 hours for repairs." She quickly wrapped her report up, stating the various degrees of damage per system and the most efficient means of mending the said offline systems.
Basically, most of the damage was easily fixed given the shuttle's store of extra components, aside from the environmental system. That would take some creative thinking, and unfortunately, it was also the most critical as the heat generated from the warp plasma conduits couldn't be properly vented given the circumstances. Although they still had warp power, it would be suicide to attempt such a tactic given their location within the nebula. Lowering the shields was also out due to the ambient concentration of synchrotron radiation, also due to their proximity to the nebula's center.
Overall, Seven of Nine was still quite impressed with Janeway's piloting skills. Not only did the captain manage to out pilot their pursuers, but she also protected the shuttle from a great portion of the devastating, sustained blast of the ignited gases.
"We're not going to last 2 hours if we don't turn off the heat." Neelix sat on the aft bench, having already shed his jacket. Beads of sweat started forming on his spotted brow.
"Agreed," Janeway's voice was low and rough from inhaling too much smoke. "We need to vent this smoke, as well." Absently, she tapped the sensor console, checking the status of the alien shuttle. "It seems our friends made it as well."
"They sustained marginally greater damage to impulse and navigation. If adequately skilled, they could have their ship repaired in 5 hours." Seven watched as Janeway nodded, pulling at the collar of her tunic.
Abruptly, Janeway stood, marching to the back access hatch, barking orders all the way. Seven was to focus on the impulse drive. The Doctor and Neelix were to start reinitializing the navigation and communication arrays. She didn't wait for confirmation as she trotted down the ladder-steps of the lab, preparing to tackle the environmental systems. Before grabbing a repair kit, Janeway slipped out of the uniform jacket, pausing long enough to affix her combadge to her tunic, then tossed it onto a bench before opening the Jefferies tube hatch.
A burst of heat escaped from the small crawl space. The air smelled of burnt circuits.
With a resigned sigh, Janeway crawled into the access hatch. She frowned, leaving the door open behind her.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
"We're arrived at the rendezvous coordinates, Commander," stated Lt. Paris as he dropped Voyager out of warp.
"Hail the Flyer," Chakotay ordered, checking his panel.
"Um, there's no sign of the shuttle on sensors, Commander." Harry Kim looked down at his console, brows furrowed. He entered a series of commands, boosting the long-range sensors with the Astrometrics array—a tactic which usually proved unwarranted as Seven of Nine manually performed the high-resolution scans dictated by the captain. Sometimes, the young woman would know exactly what to scan before Janeway even asked, which Kim found highly frustrating. "I've setup a search parameter using Astrometrics, but it's going to take awhile, maybe 3 to 4 hours."
The commander nodded, not too concerned the away team was running late. After all, there was that nebula a few light-years away. Something could have caught their eye.
"Start with the nebula, Harry," the commander instructed.
"Aye, sir." Of course, Kim wasn't certain if the sensors would be able to pierce the ambient radiation of the decaying nebula, at least from their current distance. He and Seven still hadn't finished the algorithm necessary to reconstruct the distorted data retrieved from similar anomalies. It wasn't high priority, being somewhere near the bottom of the to-do list.
"Torres to the Bridge."
"Go ahead," replied Chakotay, still comfortably reclined in his command chair.
"The magnetic restrictor assembly is cracked. We're not going to warp until the Captain brings me a new one."
"Understood." The commander's molars ground together. This situation was going from bad to worse at break neck speed.
And as if the Universe read his mind, Voyager was rocked by two phaser blasts.
The red alert klaxon sounded as Chakotay barked for shields. His large fingers jabbed at his console while he listened to Tuvok's report. A small ship—what the security chief classified as a raider during his examination of the pirate ship's capabilities—was a circling them, and two other raiders sped towards the fray from the general direction of the nebula.
Knowing that they would never respond to hails, Chakotay ordered Tuvok to open fire and Paris to take evasive maneuvers. Quickly, Tuvok destroyed one raider and disabled another, but the third managed to escape—jumping to warp—pulling the disabled ship in a tractor beam.
Chakotay ordered a stand-down to yellow alert, calling for a damage report.
"No causalities, but main power is fluctuating on Decks 12 through 15. Repair crews have been dispatched to hull breeches on Decks 8, 10 and 13," Kim relayed.
"Aft torpedo launchers and secondary phaser banks on the primary hull are offline," Tuvok responded. "Shields are down to 60%."
"I've lost starboard thrusters," Paris added.
Slowly, the commander stood from his chair. "What the hell did they hit us with?" Slapping his combadge, he called, "Chakotay to Torres, status."
"We're in one piece and not going anywhere in a hurry."
Chakotay would have smirked if the situation wasn't so dire.
"You'll have thrusters back in about fifteen minutes. Maintenance estimates an hour on the hull breeches. The secondary phaser banks are going to take days to fix, but I sent a team to the aft torpedo launcher…."
Shouts and hissing could be heard over the open comm channel. The commander knew things were spread pretty thin in Engineering at the moment.
"Understood, do the best you can, B'Elanna." With that said, Chakotay closed the channel. He paced for a moment before turning to Kim. "How the hell did their phasers do so much damage?"
But before Kim could answer, Tuvok supplied, "They used a triaxilating phaser blast to effectively pierce our shields."
"How's that possible?" Kim checked his readings. "None of the blasts maintained contact with our shields for longer than a second and none were recorded as breaking through the shield bubble."
"A phaser did not make contact with the hull, but rather a photon torpedo."
"Wow," whistled Paris. He raised his eyebrows, swinging his chair to face forward.
For the first time, the helmsman was duly impressed with the piloting skills of these pirates, if not a little rattled. Somehow, three separate vessels managed to simultaneously coordinate movements for all three to hit precise spots of Voyager's shields within nano-seconds of each phaser blast. That took serious skill and intense training. Paris remembered his training days, how his squadron would work endlessly together to the point of being a family and trusting each other without fail. And now, Tuvok had gone and blown up their pirate buddies….
"Indeed."
Kim plugged away at this console. "How do you know, Tuvok?"
"The blast marks recorded by the maintenance crews are consistent with a compact, high-yield torpedo."
The idle speculation continued as Chakotay turned and faced the view screen, lost in his own thoughts. Things didn't look too good for Voyager. If they had warp, they would've already high-tailed it before the escaping raider could bring back reinforcements, and they'd be looking for the captain. Then again, if they had warp, they wouldn't be in this mess. They were playing a waiting game: waiting for the away team to arrive, waiting for the pirates to return, and waiting for repairs to be completed.
The commander's face settled in a frown. "Where are you, Kathryn?" he whispered to himself.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
"We just have to wait for the ECS to finish the startup cycle," Janeway said, absently rolling a glass of ice water across her forehead. Her eyes were closed, enjoying the sensation of cold. Beads of cooling condensation slipped down the sides of her flush face. God, she hated the heat.
Even though all the repairs were completed, the crew still had to wait for the environmental control system to finish its reinitiating cycle. It was a safety protocol built into all Federation ships—designed to protect the crew from any possible contaminants while the system was down.
"Tell me again why we just can't fly out of this nebula?" rasped Neelix, finishing another pitcher of ice water. He was the hardest hit by the heat wave, self-evident by his bare spotted, pot belly and his ungraceful sprawl on a bench in the back of the compartment.
"Because it'll cook us," Janeway answered after a long sip. "Catch-22."
Technically, the Delta Flyer could be flown out of the nebula and the natural state of open space would sufficiently lower the temperature within the shuttle. Unfortunately, engaging the impulse engines without the proper venting of the plasma conduits would almost instantly burn them to a crisp before they ever exited the nebula. Typically, when environmental controls failed in such circumstances, a vessel would have to maintain a stationary position for days before interior temperatures reached dangerous levels—similar to when a macrocosm invaded Voyager. However, given the nature of the radiation within the nebula (which currently hid the Flyer from its pursuers), the ambient temperature had risen to near critical levels in less than two hours.
"How about we catch that 22 and cook it?" Neelix slurred. He was becoming slowly delirious but was constantly being monitored by the EMH, like everyone else.
Janeway didn't answer as she pulled an ice cube out of her glass. The Talaxian was talking nonsense now. Slowly, she ran the cube over the various pressure points on her face, sighing from the brief respite the action offered. Her current position or attire wasn't much more gracious than Neelix's but quite more tasteful.
Since her tasks were completed, Seven of Nine had sat quietly at her station ignoring Neelix's incessant chatter while attempting to contact Voyager, but the nebula's radiation was proving to be a bigger obstacle than originally anticipated. Although she wasn't any worse for wear given the efficiency of her nanoprobes and the dermaplastic garment, her feet were definitely uncomfortable and perspiration had started to form around her hair line.
Seven glanced up from her work to do a quick visual check of her suffering crewmates and was transfixed by the sight that greeted her. Her eyes tracked a single bead of water as it trailed its way down the side of Janeway's face, over the strong jaw line (following it for a few seconds), and as it continued down a stretched and taut neck. Eventually, the droplet disappeared in the bit of cleavage afforded by the standard-issue, grey tank to which the captain had stripped herself down.
It had been surprising to see the captain emerge from the Jefferies tube in nothing but the Starfleet-standard undergarments. Seven of Nine and the EMH were discussing proper medical procedure should anyone collapse from prolonged heat exposure when a loud thunk, followed by another, sounded from inside the access tunnel. Instantly, Seven moved to inquire about Janeway's status as she emerged from the open hatch. She merely raised an eyebrow at the completely disheveled older woman pushing her shoes and uniform out of the hatch before her.
Retrieving the last piece of ice, Janeway leaned her head forward, rubbing the cube across the back of her neck. She held it over the spine, hoping to stave off the impending headache.
Seven felt a flurry, or more accurately, a flush of emotion. She recognized the almost now-familiar feelings as the quiet and routine of their current predicament had offered Seven the chance to evaluate and quantify similar experiences, especially given her recent exposure in the Inuldean culture. But there were still questions. Unfortunately, her concentration was broken as she observed the captain finish her water, the ice having melted.
Bright blue-grey eyes looked up, head leaning back against the head rest.
Seven discreetly swallowed—in response to what exactly, she couldn't be entirely sure.
Unbeknownst to the Borg's inner turmoil, Janeway flashed a crooked grin as she slowly blinked, realizing she must look the sight. Her hair was matted down from sweat and water as she sat in the pilot's seat in only her standard grey tank and shorts with her bare feet propped up on the edge of a console.
"Have any luck?" the captain asked.
"No, Captain." Seven's reply was unusually meek, but Janeway made no mention of it, no doubt contributing it to the stifling heat they were all being subjected to.
The older woman rolled her head to glance at the sensor board, and sighed, "Thirty more minutes."
Seven's eyes freely traced the exposed flesh, noting the differences in musculature. Her heart swelled with pride at Janeway's commitment to train with Lt. Commander Tuvok, but there was also something else….
"This has to be some sort of perverse payback," Janeway mused aloud as she tilted her head back and stared straight up. "The Universe must be punishing me for all the snarky things I said to my mother when she went through menopause." She smiled, remembering all the veiled threats. Chuckling to herself, Janeway once again smiled openly at Seven. "Since you're faring so well in this heat, your nanoprobes may spare you that particular hazard of being female."
The captain held the gaze a little longer than usual. Maybe it was the heat getting to her, or maybe the slight difference in Seven…. Over an hour ago, the ex-drone had foregone the elegant twist for the simpler hairstyle of a ponytail at the nape of her neck—pulling the bulk of her blonde hair off and away from her face. A few tendrils too short to be contained hung loose, framing her face.
"Perhaps," Seven said, feeling a flutter deep in her abdomen. Something was happening here, she was sure of it, even if she didn't know exactly what, why or how. Mesmerized, the young woman watched as Janeway's smile softened without losing its intensity.
"My pot roast is going to burn!" Neelix cried out, standing up.
At the outburst, Seven had turned to the confused Talaxian. She was irritated at the interruption, but then her ears were filled with rich laughter.
"No, Neelix, your pot roast isn't burning—just us." Janeway chuckled lightly to herself, swiveling slightly in her chair. Suddenly her feet dropped to the deck as she reached forward, entering a series of commands and activating the environmental controls with a sigh of relief.
In a matter of minutes, the shuttle returned to standard Federation temperatures.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
"REPORT!" Chakotay shouted over exploding consoles.
Crew fumbled about the darkened Bridge, attempting to gain control of the situation.
A pirate ship, never before encountered, literally appeared out of nowhere off Voyager's bow. Two small raiders were instantly deployed, phasers blasting—utilizing a similar attack as those previously. Their strike successfully disabled the Federation vessel in minutes.
"Helm control is offline." Paris leapt away from the helm as flames consumed his station. He scrambled to retrieve a fire retardant stashed in a nearby supply locker.
"Hull breeches on Decks 3, 6, 9 and 13. Containment fields are holding." Kim continued to rattle off other damages: impulse, communications, transporters were all offline.
Tuvok added, "Shields are down to 45%. Forward port and aft torpedo launchers are offline."
"Harry, reroute everything to the shields." Chakotay checked his console. "Keep firing, Tuvok. We have to hold them off until we can get impulse back online."
Slapping his combadge, he called for an update from B'Elanna, who didn't have any good news either. She required at least an hour to get the impulse engines functional.
"We don't have an hour!" he shouted before closing the comm.
Chakotay stared at the looming vessel on the viewscreen, hoping for inspiration.
Suddenly, one of the raiders exploded, its shockwave rocking Voyager.
"Harry?" the XO rose from his chair.
"It's the Flyer," answered the ensign, relief evident in his voice.
"Why didn't we see them coming?" Paris asked. He had put out the fire and was working on regaining thruster control. As far as his board indicated, they still had navigation and sensors.
"Doesn't matter because they didn't see them coming either," Chakotay said, rushing back to his chair. "Tuvok, concentrate on the main vessel." He watched the stats on his console. Without the raiders tag-teaming, the larger ship couldn't puncture Voyager's shields. The First Officer released a shaky breath. They just might make it out of this yet.
The other raider and Delta Flyer fought for a few minutes before the Flyer was victorious. As luck would have it, the damaged raider slammed into the larger pirate ship's shield bubble, exploding on contact and undoubtedly resulting in substantial damage.
Chakotay willed the Flyer to deal the finishing blow, and bring this chase to an end. However, that fateful shot was never fired as the shuttle hovered off Voyager's port.
Eventually, the pirate vessel slowly pulled way, jumping to warp.
A few hours later, the First Officer read the captain's away mission report, curious to how events unfolded on her end. He couldn't help but smile at the uncanny luck that woman seemed to possess in spades. Essentially, Captain Janeway used the pirate's own tricks against them to save her ship: a particle flare, containing various unstable gases, could be triggered from the dying nebula, allowing a vessel to travel at full impulse undetected by conventional sensors.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
"I appreciate that you two have finally accepted my work habits, but isn't this jumping the gun a little?" Janeway attempted to make light of the First Officer and Chief of Security following on her heels into the Ready Room. Her intentions had been to read the various reports, catch up on Voyager's latest adventures and state of repairs in relative peace.
"We believed it best to apprise you of the situation as quickly as possible," Tuvok answered, standing at ease before the captain's desk.
With a slow inhale, Janeway headed towards the replicator, hand idly caressing the rail. She stopped and tapped her fingertips against the metal. Things were definitely tense on Voyager as the crew appeared a little extra haggard, though there had been a palpable sense of relief as she stepped onto the Bridge.
Chakotay moved around Tuvok, stopping at the base of the steps leading to the upper level. "The pirates have found a way to reliability breech our defenses. The past two attacks we've sustained heavy damages. If you hadn't arrived when you did, they would have taken the ship."
All the blanks would be filled-in by the reports, Janeway knew this, but she wasn't sure what Chakotay expected her to do about any of it, especially right at this moment. "Suggestions?" she asked in a low tone.
"We need to keep moving." The words almost rushed out of the commander's mouth.
"Not an option," countered the captain. "B'Elanna needs at least four hours to properly align the magnetic restrictor." She raised an eyebrow as Chakotay turned away, pacing.
Now, Janeway didn't actually ask Torres how long she needed. She just gave an educated guess being she was familiar with the procedure and her Chief Engineer. When Chakotay hailed Torres and inquired about warp, she merely crossed her arms as her estimate was verified.
Tuvok took that moment to offer, "Captain, may I suggest allocating the Astrometrics Lab resources to bolster long-range sensors?" He didn't need to elaborate the purpose of such a tactic.
"Coordinate it with Harry and Seven." Janeway nodded her dismissal.
Waiting till after Tuvok left, Chakotay sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "What good are the astrometric sensors going to do when we don't actually know what we're looking for?"
That was the price of the incredibly powerful scope of the Borg-enhanced imaging system. Voyager could peek at space hundred of light-years away (given the right conditions—thousands), and with the aid of Borg reconnaissance data, construct a meticulous scan down to the sector's particle density of space dust. However, the data collection was slow and time consuming to build useable sensor logs in real-time—unless highly specific parameters were given to the computer.
"At the very least, it would act as an early warning system." Janeway ordered herself a cup of coffee. After taking a sip, she made her way to her desk. "And I'm sure between the three of them, they'll establish quite an efficient and effective search criteria." Janeway had complete faith in her crew. It was hard not to, given everything they'd been through the last six years.
"Alright." Chakotay relented, recognizing his jitteriness and paranoia for what it was. "But what are we going to do about the pirates?"
Leaning back, Janeway cradled the coffee mug in her hands. Her gaze swept the stars outside before slowly returning to her First Officer. "Only what we have to do."
He leaned onto the desk. His big hands spread across the metal surface. "They're hunting us."
"Yes, I know. And I also know they won't stop until they have either this ship or me."
=/\= =/\= =/\=
The last few days had been quite eventful onboard Voyager as the wayward starship once again streaked towards home at high warp, thanks to the diligent efforts of her crew. Seven of Nine's duty docket had been full, helping restore the vessel to its prime operating condition. Lt. Torres was quite impressed with the replacement assembly as the superior craftsmanship of the Inuldean machinist increased power efficiency by point-zero-two percent, allowing for maximum warp to be sustained for an additional thirty minutes.
Naturally, this led to the captain being quite pleased, despite the subtle tensions gathering between her and the First Officer. Of course, no one had any idea of the cause, but that didn't stop the crew from speculating. However, it wasn't Janeway and Chakotay's relationship status that confounded Seven of Nine, but rather the young woman's personal relationship with the captain.
As the shifts blurred together and one day seamlessly merged with the next, Seven began to realize that she missed the older woman, missed her company—even her presence. Yet, she was unsure how to approach Janeway in regards to the matter. All developed ideas seemed juvenile or a display of weakness. Seven attempted to dismiss the notions of attachment as irrelevant, but the desire held fast.
The human desire for companionship reopened doors Seven had previously closed; still, there was something she needed to know before she could embark on any further endeavors in the matter.
One night, instead of returning to Cargo Bay 2 for her scheduled regeneration cycle, Seven of Nine went to find the holographic doctor.
"You failed to inform me females were a viable option for mates."
"Pardon?" the Doctor stopped, halting the scan of his current experiment.
Sighing, Seven waited for an answer, knowing the EMH heard her perfectly well. It was only the two of them in the Med Lab, in the entire Sickbay, actually.
"I didn't think you would be interested in dating women, Seven." Placing down his tricorder, the hologram turned towards the young woman. He was honestly concerned as it was rare for her to track him down over a personal grievance—in the middle of the night as it were.
"I was not interested in dating at all," countered the Borg. Since her conversation with Neelix on Inuldea, she had sufficient time to consider the ramifications of the Talaxian's statements as well as her recent actions and emotional responses. "You failed to provide me with the relevant scope of information necessary to make an informed decision."
Completely flabbergasted, the Doctor said, "You've never indicated a preference. So, I naturally assumed you would follow the majority—prefer a heterosexual relationship."
"I never indicated a bias in either direction."
Tentatively, he asked, "Are you interested in dating again?"
There had to be a reason why she was bringing this up, right? Why now, after a year? Perhaps it was simply curiosity after spending several days in a predominately female culture. Of course, it helped that she felt remarkably comfortable mingling with those people while escorting someone she trusted implicitly.
"I am undecided," Seven answered, a bit distracted with her self-analysis.
Hesitantly, the Doctor asked, "Are you interested in dating women? Anyone in particular catch your fancy?"
Of course, if the hologram had taken the time, he would have realized the young woman's far off expression wasn't one of speculative contemplation, but rather of a slight awareness which led to a gradual acceptance of her predicament. Then again, accepting something and having the confidence to act on it were two separate things entirely.
"If I were, I do not feel you would be the best individual to turn to for advice." Seven of Nine moved towards the pneumatic door leading to the corridor.
Undeterred by her disinterested tone, the EMH said, "Are you sure? You might need help with additional research? I would be more than willing—" The careful selection of Seven's words did not go unnoticed, but he still wanted to help his friend. Despite her casual bravado, the Doctor was quite aware of her loneliness because he was lonely, too.
"I do not think your assistance will be required at this time." Seven moved forward, activating the doors. Seeing the crestfallen look on the EMH's face unsettled her more than she had expected. Perhaps she was too harsh as he was only trying to help. "However, if in the future I have any questions, I would reconsider."
With those parting words, Seven of Nine returned to the comfort of Cargo Bay 2. Her current situation required further thought and consideration as she didn't wish for a repeat of past experiences.
She had to be absolutely sure.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
"Astrometrics to the Bridge."
"Go ahead, Seven," answered the captain from her command chair, foot swinging ever so slightly. It felt good to be back in the saddle, so to speak.
A couple of days of shore leave on a deserted planet had done wonders for the crew's morale. Voyager was once again in fine condition, and the reserve stores had acceptable quantities. The best part of it all was the fact that there had been no signs of pirates for the entire two weeks since their last encounter.
"The quantum singularity utilized by the MIDAS Array will be in optimal alignment in approximately 2 hours."
"Understood." Janeway closed the channel, and ordered, "Tom, lets hold position here until we pick up everyone's mail."
"Yes, ma'am." Tom Paris smiled down at his console, doing as commanded. He was actually looking forward to hearing from his father.
=/\= =/\= =/\=
Chapter 6:
Repression Vignette