This is a work of fiction. Characters belong to Paramount. This story contains a romantic relationship between female characters. If you don't like it, don't read it! I would welcome any reviews/comments. Enjoy!
That Groundhog Day Feeling – Chapter 5
Loop 6
Seven-of-Nine drifted slowly back into consciousness, her thoughts gradually gaining cohesion as her memory surfaced from the grey haze. Forcing her heavy eyelids open she struggled upright in her seat at the Delta Flyer's helm. It was several moments before the dizziness passed enough for her to stand and survey the surroundings. Different warning beeps sounded from around the control panels and the interior lights were dimmed, indicating that the shuttlecraft was running on auxiliary power. To her left, on the floor and pushed tight against a bulkhead, lay the inert form of Captain Janeway.
The young Borg pushed past debris that littered the deck and crouched down beside her superior officer, feeling for the pulse she knew would be there. It was weak but steady, and as Seven bent to lift the older woman and carry her to the aft compartment she could feel Janeway's warm breath on her neck. Gently, she laid Janeway on a bed, averting her eyes from her injuries. The Doctor had informed her that he had repaired Janeway's cuts and bruises before Seven had awoken and assured her that they were not life-threatening, but the gash above the Captain's eye was bleeding profusely and a purple-black bruise was blossoming on one pale cheek. Quickly, Seven retrieved a phase resequencer and completed the modifications necessary to enable her to treat Janeway's brain injury as per the Doctor's instructions. That done, the former drone turned her attention to the shuttlecraft and began working to bring main power online.
"Seven?" Janeway's voice called weakly over the comm system, almost an hour later. Relief washing over her, Seven quickly strode aft to find her friend sitting groggily on the bed. "I assume the plan worked," Janeway said, attempting a joking tone but with her voice betraying the pain she felt. Holding out an arm, she grasped Seven's hand and heaved herself to her feet. "Status?" she demanded, forcing herself to function normally.
"Main power is online and repairs to the short-range sensors will be completed in approximately one hour, Captain. How are you feeling?"
Janeway followed Seven into the main section, surveying the shuttlecraft's systems as she went. They had escaped lightly, she thought, and the damage was mainly cosmetic aside from the sensors and some secondary and non-essential systems. "I'll live," replied Janeway. "Let's get underway. I'll take the helm; you get the short-range sensors back online then start working on that chronoton torpedo." She moved to the pilot's seat and sat down heavily. After staring blankly out of the viewscreen for a moment, Janeway turned to Seven with a rueful look.
"Where do I point us?" she asked, gesturing out of the window. She could have sworn she saw the beginnings of a smile on the Borg's lips before the customary expression was re-established. Seven walked over and stood next to Janeway, bending so that their heads were on the same level. They were separated by no more than a couple of inches, and Janeway felt her heart rate rising with the young woman's proximity. Seven extended her arm and pointed towards a group of stars off to starboard.
"Do you see the isosceles triangle with the red giant at its apex?"
Janeway squinted, trying to clear up her still slightly fuzzy vision. "Got it," she replied.
"That red giant is our destination. You will have to drop out of warp speed periodically to check our heading," Seven instructed. Janeway smiled.
"All I ask is a tall ship, and a star to steer her by," she quoted wistfully. Like all Starfleet captains, she had not forgotten their long-distant seafaring cousins and the great hardships suffered by explorers of old.
"The Delta Flyer is neither tall nor a ship, Captain," retorted Seven-of-Nine pointedly, causing Janeway's smile to widen into a crooked grin.
"It's a quotation, Seven. I believe it was one of James Kirk's favourites," she added, turning her head and catching her friend's eye. Briefly, so briefly that Janeway wasn't entirely sure it happened, the younger woman rested her hand lightly on the Captain's shoulder before turning away and disappearing into the engineering section. Janeway adjusted the Flyer's heading and increased speed.
********************
The shuttle was a mere two hours from its destination and Seven was finishing the crudely-fashioned chronoton torpedo when her comm badge beeped, disrupting her concentration.
"Seven, can you come up here for a moment?" Janeway asked, sounding strangely disoriented. Seven tapped her badge.
"On my way."
Janeway lay slumped forward over the helm, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The Borg ran to her and propped her up in the chair, looking into Janeway's unfocused, grey-blue eyes.
"What is wrong, Captain?" demanded Seven, detecting an irregular heartbeat and extremely high temperature and becoming suddenly very worried. This was not in the plan. "All stop!" barked Seven at the computer, and the hum of the engines died away. Janeway lolled sideways, only staying upright because of Seven's arm clamped around her. Seven grasped her cheeks roughly, forcing the Captain to look at her.
"Don't know….don't feel....well," Janeway gasped. "Dizzy, head…..aaargh, head – hurts…so much -" Her words cut off in a low moan that struck ice-cold fear into Seven's heart. In one swift movement she lifted the Captain and carefully carried her once again to the bed in the aft section, placing her down and grabbing a medical tricorder from a med kit. She scanned Janeway quickly, but she could see that the older woman's condition was deteriorating rapidly, and Seven was no substitute for the Doctor. Janeway was silent now having drifted into a comatose state, and frantically Seven programmed a hypospray, injecting a stimulant.
"Captain, wake up!" she commanded, almost shaking the prone form by the shoulders. "Cortical stimulator," she muttered, whirling round and scrabbling in the med kit. Desperate now, Seven slammed the device onto Janeway's forehead and sent a charge through the Captain's brain. The body jerked, then was still.
"No, this cannot happen. Captain!" she shouted, now sobbing openly, "Captain, can you hear me?" The tricorder beeped once then ceased, and Seven threw it onto the floor where it clattered against a bulkhead. Tears streaming down her cheeks, the former Borg clung to Janeway's body, unable and unwilling to leave her side. For the next two hours, Seven-of-Nine mourned the loss of her Captain, her friend.
********************
Loop 7
"Ah, welcome back, Seven. How are you feeling?" The Doctor's chirpy tone cut through the fog clouding Seven's mind and she sat upright quickly, assisted by the hologram who flipped his tricorder shut and smiled benignly. Seven shoved the Doctor roughly aside and sprang from the bed, ignoring his protests as she ran over to a biobed on the opposite side of sickbay. A form lay under a blanket, long auburn hair cascading around the face, and with a cry of relief Seven hugged the unconscious Captain.
"Seven, what on Earth are you doing?" the Doctor almost yelped, grabbing the Borg by the arm and pulling her away. "Captain Janeway is unwell; I would appreciate it if she were not disturbed. Apparently, whatever affected you proved to be worse for the Captain."
Seven was barely listening. Once the time had come for the next loop, the temporal field still intact, the time loop had begun again. Without another adjustment to her temporal node, she had awoken in sickbay as she had done previously. She shook her head, berating herself inwardly. She had known that would happen, yet instead of running analyses that could have provided information she allowed herself to become incapacitated at Janeway's temporary demise. She was still ruing her actions when sick bay doors slid open, through which entered Chakotay and Tuvok, and Seven breathed out slowly, preparing herself for yet another time loop.
**********************
"Captain Janeway died?" exclaimed Paris, standing suddenly and banging his fists on the table.
"How could you let that happen, Seven?!" Harry Kim demanded, casting an accusing look across the table. He wasn't the only one thinking the same way, judging by the expressions around the briefing room. Janeway held up a placatory hand.
"Now, now, gentlemen. None of us knew what would happen. It was an unknown risk, and it certainly wasn't Seven's fault. Do we know what happened, Doctor?"
With the Captain' s soothing tone possessing a threatening edge, Paris sat down, still glaring at the Borg who returned his glare with a cool assurance. The Doctor clasped his hands together in front of him, his expression serious.
"I believe so, Captain. You are aware of the increasing phase variance of the temporal field towards the field's origin?" Janeway nodded, and the Chief Medical Officer continued. "I'm afraid that, once a certain threshold was reached, this triggered a severe relapse in your condition, causing your brain patterns to align themselves to this phase variance."
"Can it be treated, either now or on the shuttlecraft?" asked Chakotay, frowning. The Doctor shook his head solemnly.
"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do. If the Captain approaches the centre of the field, this will happen again. I would need to scan her as this is happening, which is clearly impossible because of this damned infernal time loop!"
The last words were shouted and Janeway quickly moved to where the Doctor sat bolt upright in a briefing room chair. She fondly touched his shoulder, her other hand resting on Seven-of-Nine's arm.
"What about an atmospheric suit, Captain? Seven could drop you off whilst she continues on to destroy the field generator, then pick you up on the way back," suggested Paris, turning to Seven to seek her opinion, his earlier outburst forgotten.
"An atmospheric suit cannot sustain the Captain for the required length of time, even if modified to carry an increased oxygen supply," stated the blonde woman matter-of-factly.
"There must be some way of doing this!" said Torres, looking round the table. All of Voyager's senior officers sat quietly, the ideas dried up. The Doctor regarded his hands, feeling utterly useless. Paris clenched his fists, wishing he could take part in the action. Kim appeared withdrawn whilst Seven-of-Nine's expression was even more impassive than usual. Only Janeway seemed unflustered, in control, and Torres felt a pang of admiration for this intelligent, resourceful woman she was proud to call Captain.
Janeway resumed her seat slowly and looked around, her gaze settling on each person in turn. She loved them all like family, and to utter the words she was about to speak took all her courage.
"There is a way," she began softly, waving off interruptions which were imminent from several of the assembled crew. "The plan stands. Once the generator is destroyed, it is entirely possible that it will be as though none of this ever happened. If not, Voyager will continue towards the alpha quadrant without me. We've come through too much to be stuck here reliving eight hours over and over whilst the rest of the universe carries on without us. The Doctor will reprogram Seven's temporal node, she will revive me and we will proceed as planned. When my condition recurs, Seven will continue on to the source of the temporal field and destroy the generator." Janeway finished and sat patiently, waiting for the onslaught.
"I will not comply."
"Captain, you'll die!"
"No way, Captain."
"This is an illogical course of action."
"Voyager needs her Captain!"
"Over my dead body!"
The expected protests came all at once, and Janeway refrained from speaking until everything had been said. Then, she came to her feet. "Objections noted. My orders stand. Dismissed."
"But, Captain -!" Kim wailed, also rising from his chair. Janeway cut him off with a look.
"Dismissed, Ensign!"
As the officers walked out, muttering mutinously, Janeway sank down into her chair and rested her head in her hands, wisps of dark red hair poking out through her slender fingers. So this was it. Her life has been reduced to little more than a gamble. She had always known that somehow temporal physics would get the better of her, and the thought made her smile despite the situation. She had given orders she never, ever wanted to have to give; she knew that if she did in fact die then her crew would never really get over it, always wondering if there had been another solution, if only they'd waited. Knowing them, she wouldn't put it past them to fiddle with the disintegrated remains of the damned temporal field generator and start the whole saga all over again. Janeway sighed, her eyes closed, taking the moment alone to rest. At least, she thought she was alone.
"Captain," murmured a voice by her right ear, causing Janeway to stir, startled. She felt hands on her shoulders, massaging her aching muscles then moving forward around her neck, and she looked up. Seven-of-Nine drew the Captain into a warm embrace; Janeway's head nestled under the younger woman's chin. She relaxed and allowed herself to let go of the protocols and regulations that dogged her waking life, and instead hugged Seven tightly, blinking away the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes. The two women stayed that way for several minutes, enjoying their newfound closeness and drawing strength from each other. When they parted, two pairs of eyes met, forming a connection that each would remember for the rest of their lives, however long or short that time may be.
"I do not wish to do this, Captain," said Seven softly, her pale blue eyes shining brightly.
"I know, Seven. It's the only way," choked Janeway, grasping Seven's shoulders. She paused for a moment, then stood up again, pulling Seven with her. "Come on. Let's relax a little – we've got a few hours before the next loop starts." The two left the briefing room and entered the bridge. Chakotay looked up from the Captain's chair where he sat, surrounded by Voyager's senior officers.
"Commander, Seven and I will be in my quarters. It's been a long day. Unless we run into a fleet of Borg cubes or a wormhole leading to Reg Barclay's living room, I don't want to be disturbed."
"Understood," replied Chakotay. He exchanged looks with Paris and Torres and seemed to want to say more, but decided against it and turned back to look at the small computer panel in the arm of the chair. Janeway and Seven made their way into the turbolift and headed for the Captain's quarters, leaving behind them a helpless, bewildered and utterly distraught crew.
*************************
Janeway sat on one end of her couch, sipping her vintage wine yet again. Seven-of-Nine perched on the other end rigidly, unable as usual to sit and relax. She was pensive, understandably, and Janeway's eyes softened as she watched the emotions come and go in her friend's expression. She had no doubt that the younger woman would follow her orders, but she was unsure how much of a toll it would take on the former Borg. The same goes for all the others, though in a way they weren't really involved, being unaware of the time loop. It would affect Seven most of all, Janeway was sure, and she just hoped that she would in time be able to forgive herself with the support and friendship of the Voyager crew. The hardest part would be for Seven to explain all that had happened on her return to Voyager, for from the crew's perspective she would simply have returned from their initial away mission with Janeway's corpse on board. After running these thoughts through her head for the hundredth time, Janeway could stand it no longer.
"Computer, dim lights by seventy percent. Play music, Beethoven's piano sonatas, slow movements only."
As the music started Janeway placed her glass down on a table and did the same with Seven's, removing it from her unresisting hand. She took the taller woman's hands in her own and pulled her gently to her feet and towards Janeway, placing Seven's hands around her neck and wrapping her own arms around Seven's slender waist. The Borg's head rested on Janeway's shoulder and the Captain could hear her companion's quiet, muffled sobs as hot tears slid down the front of her uniform.
"Shhh," murmured Janeway, holding the distressed young woman tighter so that she could feel Seven's heart beat against her shoulder. After a while, Seven stopped trembling and lifted her head slightly, slipping her hands lower down the Captain's back and tracing circles through the material of Janeway's jacket and undershirt. The mood had changed from desolation to desire, and both women felt the subtle alteration in atmosphere. Janeway was the first to respond.
"You know, whatever happens, we won't remember this," she whispered, placing a light kiss on Seven's cheek.
"I am aware of that, Captain. I do not believe that is a valid reason for us not to continue."
"I'm glad you feel that way," chuckled Janeway softly before pulling the Borg towards her and kissing her again, this time passionately on the lips. Breaking away, she took Seven's arm and led her into the bedroom.