Chapter Two: The Blood
Seven carried the young 'Guardian' over her left shoulder, with Commander Tuvok holding her by the other side. The ex-Borg silently wondered why Starfleet couldn't invent some sort of stretcher or gurney to carry the wounded or the unconscious. A site-to-site transport would have been an inefficient use of the ship's energy, so they were carrying the red-haired stranger to Sickbay, as would have been beaming directly there from the surface.
The five crewmembers plus one entered the doors where the Doctor appeared to be singing in his office. He very quickly came to his senses and strode forward. "What happened? Who is this, Captain?" he asked quickly, helping the young woman onto a biobed.
"Good question, Doctor," Janeway said. "We found her on the surface in some sort of suspended animation. According to our information, she's a human who's been here for almost four hundred years."
"Four hundred years?" the Doctor repeated with shock. "Then she'll have no defense against any number of diseases that humans have adapted to since that long ago! Not to mention any non-human viruses. And now that our favorite Greek letter is showing on all the screens once again…"
"Just help her, Doctor," the Captain said patiently. "And perhaps Mister Paris could help speed things along for the rest of us."
The Doctor let out a small hmph of doubt. "Assuming he's not whiling away his time in the holodeck, then of course I could use his assistance." He tapped his combadge. "Doctor to Paris: please report to Sickbay immediately."
"On my way," Paris replied professionally.
Seven stood by the sleeping woman on the biobed as the Doctor scanned the others for alien viruses. She didn't notice his scans of them, nor did she particularly notice when he came over to scan her. She was busy looking into the face of the resting woman. She seemed so tranquil and docile. Not at all like a destroyer of Borg. Such a mystery, Seven thought as she idly reached out her left hand towards the redhead's face.
The Doctor's hand caught her wrist. "Not now, Seven," he chided her. "I need to make sure she isn't ill. Please excuse me," he said a bit shortly. "All of you are fine by the way. Now, Captain, if you don't mind, it would be a lot easier to take certain readings if my screens were working."
Janeway shook her head as if snapping out of a trance. "Of course, Doctor. I'm sorry." Seven watched as the Captain deactivated the lock-out of the computers while the Doctor scanned the woman with a tricorder.
"Oh. That explains a thing or two," he said darkly as he continued scanning. "Mister Neelix," he said without looking up from his patient, "I'm sure our guest will be hungry when she awakens. Would you mind going to prepare something for her?"
"Of course, Doctor," the Talaxian said eagerly, making for the exit.
"Do try not to agitate her digestive system," the Doctor called after Neelix just as Lieutenant Paris entered.
"What've we got, Doc? Oh, hello! Who's this?" he said as he regarded the young woman on the biobed.
"We don't know. Do you?" Lieutenant Torres said sarcastically.
Paris quickly turned to face the half-Klingon. "I know she's nowhere near as beautiful as you."
"Nice save, flyboy," she said with a smile.
"We have a patient, Mister Paris," the Doctor said shortly, "who may be four centuries behind on her vaccinations. Human, from my scans, but her body also displays some highly disturbing signs. I'd like to run a blood sample through the computer first before I jump to any conclusions. Particularly regarding Omega."
"Omega?" Janeway sounded alarmed. "You're saying that this woman has something to do with the Omega particles we detected?"
The only thing preventing Seven from scoffing at the Captain's ignorance was her general lack of emotional displays in general. "Captain," she said patiently, "what else other than Omega itself has the power to destroy four Borg cubes? What else has the power to perform feats described by a technologically-advanced civilization as 'magic?'"
"I'm afraid that Seven is correct, Captain. At least, as far as I can tell," the Doctor said.
Paris shook his head. "Hang on. You're saying that Omega is a iperson/i? I thought it was a molecule."
"In this case, it's a number of molecules within a person's body. But again, I want to run a blood test to be sure. Captain, are you all right?" the Doctor asked, noticing the Captain's somber expression.
"What? Yes, I'll be fine," she said, though she didn't look fine at all.
The Doctor nodded. "Very well. I'm going to take the sample now. Mister Paris, I may need your help with analyzing the data, as well as if our patient wakes up."
"Sure thing, Doc."
The Doctor moved in to take the blood sample from the woman's neck with a hypospray set to extract rather than inject.
The moment the instrument touched the woman's neck, however, her green eyes shot open, and Seven found herself flung against the wall by an unseen force. Everyone except the Doctor was now pinned against a wall or other surface, and his hypospray had gone flying as well.
Seven watched in horror as the woman sat up, and her eyes were no longer green, but pure black. Even the whites of her eyes were now black. Unable to help herself, Seven began to silently pray to the woman-goddess for mercy.
Willow looked around the room filled with strangers wearing what were obviously military uniforms. Some were of species she didn't recognize, but some appeared to be human. Was this a dream? Whatever it was, the man standing beside her had been unaffected by her telekinetic wave, and he had tried to violate her.
"You tried to take my blood," she said coldly. "What are you?"
"Well," he said slowly, looking a bit nervous, "you're on board a starship, populated by other humans. This is the sickbay, and since I'm told you've been out of touch with humanity for a little while, I was going to run an analysis of your blood to see what sorts of vaccinations you needed. As for what I am, I'm a hologram. Photons and force fields put together to form a Doctor. If you need to address me, I'm just the Doctor."
Willow found herself relaxing as she took in what had happened. They'd found her! Humans had finally reached the stars, and they'd found her! They'd become peaceful, or else they wouldn't have found Topa. This was awesome!
But first, she had to get something out of her system? "You say you're the Doctor? Doctor Who?"
And of course, the hologram looked puzzled. "Just 'Doctor' will do, Miss. I'm sorry for startling you. I'm a Doctor, not a vampire. I just want to insure your well-being."
Willow nodded. "Of course. Sounds good."
"As long as we're all buddies, miss," a man in a red and black uniform said from the wall, "I don't suppose you can let us go? Assuming it's you that's doing this?"
"Oh! Sorry! Here, let me let you go," she said as she released her hold on them. "Sorry. I panicked. I've had some bad experiences with people wanting my blood, you see. But, it's okay now, 'cause you're all here to help. A-and some of you aren't even human, which means that humans are all friendly and peaceful now, right? And wow! I'm really in the future! I've been on Topa for about three or four hundred years, but I don't know how that compares to an Earth year. So, I may not be that far in the future at all. It could just be days. Only, that would require some sort of super-fast technological evolution to get into space so quickly. O-or it could be millennia! Or hundreds of millennia! I don't even know if I'm still in the Milky Way! And I'm babbling now. I do that when I'm nervous. I'll be quiet now," Willow said as she made a display of zipping her lips closed.
The others in the room were all looking at her strangely, especially the woman who wasn't in a uniform like the others, though she did have a badge like they did. And that woman… Yowza! What a body! The bits of metal on her face almost looked like jewelry. Was she a cyborg? iWait a minute. Cyborg. Cy. Borg. Eep!/i "Um, sorry, ma'am. But are you, um, gonna try to assimilate all of us now?"
The blonde woman looked taken aback. "No, I am not. I was severed from the Collective almost one year ago," she said. Willow couldn't help but feel the other woman's gaze upon her. The look on her face was almost like a more adult, supermodel-ish version of the looks that Tara and Kennedy sometimes gave her. It wasn't a look of lust or adulation, but it reminded her distinctly of when Kennedy had called her a 'goddess' after she'd turned all of the Potentials into Slayers.
"And we are pleased to have you aboard our ship," a woman in a red uniform said. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway, and this is the Starship iVoyager./i We're quite far from Earth, but we're trying to get home as fast as we can, Miss…"
"Oh! Sorry! I'm Willow. Rosenberg. Willow Rosenberg. It's nice to meet you!" she said brightly. And they have women in charge of big, fancy starships in the future. Awesome!
"Likewise," the Captain said with a smile. "But before any more introductions, we need to check your blood to see if there's… To see what vaccines you may need."
Willow winced. "Does it involve needles? I… I kinda don't like needles."
"I assure you," the Doctor said, "it's quite painless. A microscopic prick that seals itself in a moment."
"Oh. Right. Future technology. Uh, okay then."
"Thank you," the Doctor said with a smile as he pressed the device against Willow's neck. It felt cold, but it didn't hurt as she heard a small hissing sound. A moment later, she saw a vial with her blood in it.
"Give me just a moment to analyze this," the Doctor said patiently before heading into a small office. Captain Janeway, the red-uniformed man, and a gold-uniformed woman with ridges on her forehead went with him.
That left a dark-skinned guy with pointy ears and the sexy blonde lady. "So, um, does everybody always get all excited about the new girl's blood? Doesn't seem like the kinda thing the Captain would want to look at personally. Doesn't she have a really big ship to run?"
"Captain Janeway is likely checking your blood for any indicators of a threat to her ship," the blonde woman said.
"Seven," the black man warned.
"Threat? I'm not a threat, I promise! I mean, yeah, I did throw you all against the wall just now. A-and I'm sorry about that, I really am. But I was just scared. I mean, you all seem friendly, so there's no need to go all dark and veiny, right?"
"'Dark and veiny?' the black alien repeated skeptically. He sounded rather robotic. "What do you mean by that, Miss Rosenberg? Are you referring to what the Topara described as your 'magicks?'"
"Uh, kinda?" Please, don't make me tell you too much! I don't wanna get sucked out into space! "Are there any other witches or warlocks here on the ship?"
"Witches?" the blonde woman asked skeptically. She also sounded a bit mechanical, but if she used to be Borg, then that was to be expected.
"Uh, yeah. You know. People who can do magic. Or, do you still burn them at the stake? I had that happen to me once, and I really don't want to go there again. But I guess I wasn't as skilled then as I am now. So, uh, yeah. Can we not go with the burning and the mobbing and such?"
The black man's eyebrows raised a bit, but he gave no other signs of emotion. "I assure you, Miss Rosenberg, such practices have been outlawed on Federation worlds for hundreds of years. And by Earth's calendar, it is late in the year 2374."
"Huh. So, a Toparan year is about the same as an Earth year. I guess it makes sense. Planets need to have similar orbits in order to be habitable, I guess. It's kinda strange, though, how everyone all stands on two legs and has two arms and such. I always thought the universe would be more like the cantina in Star Wars."
"Star Wars?" the blonde woman said skeptically.
"Earth movie? Well, five, actually. The last one was gonna come out in theaters a year after I came to Topa, but LucasFilm didn't have any branches out here. So, I still gotta find out how Anakin becomes Vader, y'know?"
"No, I do not know," the black man said.
Willow cocked her head. "You two aren't big with showing your emotions, are you?"
"I am a Vulcan," the black man said. "My name is Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. My people learn from an early age to suppress our emotions in favor of a more logical perspective of the universe."
Willow nodded. "Right. So, Vulcans equal logic people. Voice of reason in the heat of heightened emotions, yeah?"
"Less often than would be ideal, but you are correct," Tuvok said with what might have been praise.
Willow turned to the woman now. "And what about you? Do you have any memories from before you were assimilated?"
"No," the blonde said too quickly. "I was assimilated at a young age. The Collective was all that I knew until Captain Janeway took me with her," she said bitterly.
Willow was confused. "So, are you all bent out of shape because you were assimilated as a kid, or because you were taken from the Borg against your will? Or maybe both? Because if that's the case, then you've been changed into something else twice now, and I can't imagine it's easy to go from human to Borg and back again. I'm so sorry for you."
The blonde looked at Willow with a look that seemed rather sad and pathetic. "Thank you," she said at last.
Willow smiled and hopped off the bed onto her feet. "For what?"
"For accepting me for what I am. Captain Janeway seems intent on molding me into the human she believes I should be. My own feelings in the matter are irrelevant."
"But you have feelings," Willow pointed out. "Borg drones don't. Do you want to give up your feelings?"
The blonde woman looked doubtful. "I don't know."
Willow walked over and took the woman's metal-latticed hand in her own. "Well, I'll try to help you out if I can. What's your name?"
The blonde looked at Willow with that same look of adulation that made the witch's stomach feel all churny. "My designation is Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One. But you may call me Seven of Nine."
Willow felt her heart go out to Seven of Nine. "You don't use your birth name?"
"I don't remember that person. Seven of Nine is all that I am," she said simply.
"Oh. Well, in that case, Seven of Nine it is. Kinda bulky on the tongue, but that's your name, so I'll try not to wear it out."
Seven nodded her head. "Thank you, Miss Rosenberg."
The red-haired witch smiled. "Please, call me Willow."
"So, Doctor, what do you make of Miss Rosenberg?" Janeway asked her CMO.
"More than I would like, Captain," he said as he pulled up a visual display of her blood. "Her blood cells seem to be those of a perfectly healthy human woman in her mid-twenties, though she lacks several antibodies that have been introduced into the human genome over the past few centuries. Synthesizing the necessary antibodies and vaccines shouldn't be a problem."
"But that's not what has you worried, is it, Doctor?"
"I'm afraid not. When I first scanned her, I thought there had to be something wrong with my tricorder. But then I took a closer look." He pressed a button and the screen zoomed in on a red blood cell down until they were looking at strands of DNA. "This is something I never expected to find."
"My God!" Janeway was horrified by what she was seeing. "Omega! It's a part of her. Part of her DNA. How is this possible, Doctor?"
"That's not the only impossible thing, Captain," Torres said. Look at it closer. Look at the molecules."
Janeway looked again. "What are you trying to say, B'Elanna?"
"The molecules, Captain. They're the very model of what Omega should be. They're stable, Captain."
"What?" Janeway looked again, and sure enough, it was the textbook model of an Omega molecule in its stable form. "This isn't possible."
"Whether or not it's possible, we now have a problem," the Doctor said gravely. "The Omega Directive."
"You mean that order that says we have to destroy this stuff no matter what?" Paris asked. "We'd have to kill her. That's not an option."
"As you were, Lieutenant," Janeway said coldly, her eyes not leaving the screen. "A lifeform made up of Omega molecules is something nobody in Starfleet ever anticipated. And if that bout of telekinesis was an example of her drawing on Omega's power… What if she can use that power to help us? What if we can use that power to get home?"
"And then what?" Torres challenged. "The moment Starfleet learns about her, they'll kill her. She hasn't done anything, Captain. You want us to lie to her and have her help us only to have her be sentenced to death if we ever make it home?"
Janeway steeled herself, realizing that this was a very precarious issue. "That will be for Starfleet Command to decide. And as you said, that's iif/i we make it home with her. Not when." The Captain sighed. "I'll need to speak with Seven of Nine about this. She knows more about Omega than anyone else on this ship. She'll be able to tell if there's any risk of Omega destabilizing. Unless we learn that's possible, I think we should vaccinate her and make her feel at home."
"Captain," the Doctor said. "Seven's feelings towards Omega border on worship. How can you be sure she'll cooperate with you? Especially given that the molecules are stable?"
"Because no one in this room is going to tell her what's likely to become of Miss Rosenberg if this all ends well. Starfleet might see her as an exception, and I'll try to persuade them, but I have my doubts." But all the same, this conversation doesn't leave this room. Understood?"
Thankfully, her senior staff had learned by now not to argue with Janeway once her mind was set. "Yes, Captain," the Doctor said.
"I don't like this," Tom said.
"I don't really like it either," Torres said.
"You don't have to like it," Janeway said coldly. "You just have to keep your mouths shut. If you speak of this to anyone, I'll have you and anyone you tell thrown in the brig. Am I clear?"
Paris nodded silently while B'Elanna set her jaw. "Crystal clear, Captain."
Willow Rosenberg was not at all what Seven had been expecting of a goddess. But then, that was a term used out of ignorance. It was rapidly becoming clear that Willow was just as human as anyone else. More so than others, it seemed, given her acceptance of Seven and her lack of insistence on her changing who she was.
"What?" Willow asked. "You're looking at me all funny, Seven of Nine."
There was another thing that Seven appreciated about Willow. She didn't insist on abbreviating her name. Unfortunately, she had to admit that she had become accustomed to the abbreviation. "If you wish," she said reluctantly, "you may call me 'Seven.' The rest of the crew does."
Willow looked at her strangely. "Are you sure you're okay with that?"
"Yes. The meaning is clear, and there is no malicious intent. Shortening my name is more efficient," she conceded.
The self-proclaimed witch smiled widely at her words. "All right, then! Seven it is! And you still haven't told me why you're looking at me with that strange look on your face."
Seven narrowed her eyes a bit. "Do you not hold me responsible for my actions as a drone?"
"Why should I?" Willow said, looking taken aback. "That would be like hating the people who turned into Cybermen for all of the deleting and upgrading and such."
"Cybermen?" Tuvok inquired. "You have had contact with other cybernetic lifeforms, Miss Rosenberg?"
"Uh, no. Not unless you count watching episodes of Doctor Who. And I heard they were gonna make a new series, too. I wish I could have seen it."
"Cybermen are a fictitious species?" Seven asked.
"Yup! It's kinda what makes the Borg so scary. Not that you're scary, Seven. You're not a Borg anymore. I mean, you're kinda Borg, but you're kinda not. I mean, you're not a drone, but you still have Borg tech in you, and you still think of yourself as Seven of Nine, right? It'd be kinda silly to expect you to act like every other human, wouldn't it? But you're not responsible for what the Borg Hive Mind chooses to do."
Seven felt a warmth in her chest that she hadn't felt before, but she enjoyed the feeling. Willow had just said what she had been feeling ever since she had come onto Voyager, though Seven herself had never found the words to say so herself. Was Omega giving her this insight? Or did it have to be with Willow being from a different time?
Captain Janeway and the others emerged from the Doctor's office. "Your blood work is about what we expected, Miss Rosenberg," the Doctor said. "You are lacking a number of antibodies that have come into the human genome over the past few centuries, and you need a number of vaccinations. It's not a terribly lengthy process, but I'll have to ask you to remain here for the next few hours until we can get you ready."
"Ready? Ready for what?" Willow asked nervously.
"For the trip home," Janeway said. "We'll be taking you with us, but I have to warn you that it may take years to get back to Earth. This is one of the fastest ships that Starfleet has ever built, but we were pulled across the galaxy by an alien force. I won't lie; our latest estimates place our voyage at a little under sixty years."
"Oh." Willow clearly wanted to return to Earth, even if Seven didn't. After being away for so long, it was only natural, she supposed.
"Well, now that that's taken care of, I need to get back to work. Doctor, Mister Paris, can you handle things here?"
"We'll be fine, Captain," the Doctor said as he readied a hypospray.
"I would like to remain as well," Seven said. Regardless of Omega's presence, Seven felt a need to be close to Willow. The other woman understood her, she felt, on a level that no one else did.
Janeway crossed her arms. "I'd hoped to have a word with you, Seven. Now."
Seven glared at Janeway, clasping her hands behind her back. "I have not been given any time not designated for work, nutritional consumption, or regeneration, Captain. No other crewmember has such restrictions, and I am not a member of Starfleet."
The Captain looked taken aback. "This has never been an issue before."
"It is now," Seven protested.
"Hey," Willow said. "Uh, I don't wanna cause any trouble or anything, but if Seven hasn't been given any free time since she got here, then that's kind of a jerk thing to do, isn't it? And if she wants to take a bit of time now, then I could use the company. It's good to have a friendly face to get acquainted with the future."
"Friendly?" B'Elanna asked incredulously. "If you say so. I'll be in Engineering. Captain," she said as she exited Sickbay. The chief engineer seemed a bit colder than usual.
"She is friendly!" Willow protested. "She's been really nice to me. So have you, Tuvok. I gotta admire someone who can keep a cool head in the face of fire. That used to be me a while back. Still is sometimes. But Tuvok wears your uniform. Seven doesn't. Why do you wear that outfit anyway, Seven? It doesn't leave much to the imagination."
Seven didn't understand the nature of Willow's question, but Lieutenant Paris's restrained laughter told her that he, at least, understood. "The Doctor designed my garments," she said simply.
Willow turned to the Doctor. "You've got a dirty mind, you know that, Doc? Let's get her some clothes that she can get out of if she has to pee or something. And are those stilettos? Really? Not really practical, are they?"
Seven scowled, remembering Mister Neelix pushing her earlier. "They impair my balance."
"Well, then! Buffy schooled me well in the art of Retail Therapy, so I'll try to help you out, Seven. I'm sure you have all sorts of captain-y things to be doing, so don't let me get in your way," Willow said brightly.
Seven looked to Janeway, who seemed at a loss for words. "All right, then. Seven, see me first thing after you finish regenerating."
That was acceptable. "Yes, Captain."
"Well, then, carry on," Janeway said as she and Tuvok left the room.
"Well, that was certainly entertaining," the Doctor said. "Just try to hold still and relax. Some of these injections can make you a bit light-headed and nauseous. I promise it won't last very long."
"Uh, okay," Willow said, and Seven was surprised to find her hand enclosed in the redhead's. Did Willow really derive comfort from her presence? Seven knew how she felt, but why would any human feel any sort of comfort around a former drone?
Willow seemed to notice her unease. "Everything okay, Seven?" she asked cheerfully.
Seven shook her head. "I don't know."
"Well, do me a favor and stay with me while I get all vaccinated. And I apologize in advance if I get all sick on your… Whatever it is you're wearing. Has anyone ever told you that you are exceptionally beautiful, Seven?"
The statement took her by surprise. "Beauty is irrelevant," she said somewhat defensively.
Willow merely smiled. "Keep telling yourself that," she said mysteriously. "Keep telling yourself that."
In case I neglected to mention it, I don't own Star Trek or Buffy, nor do I own Doctor Who or Star Wars.
Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter.