Chapter Six: Chaos

On the holodeck, Seven of Nine found herself engaged in a vital simulation, or so she had been told. The goal was to improve her social skills, which she would attain by interacting with reproductions of the crew. The ex-drone felt a nervousness about the encounter that she did not understand. It was just a holographic simulation, nothing more.

"Go on, Seven. They won't bite," Willow said from her side.

Seven did not smile, but she did breathe a bit easier. After their first passionate meeting, the two of them had agreed to take their relationship more slowly. Willow had become very emotional over concerns that she'd been 'moving too fast,' and Seven was hopeful that she could prove herself to be worth the other woman's time and affections.

"We'll do this together, okay?" the redhead offered.

Seven nodded slightly as the two women approached a table with Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Kim seated together. "Lieutenant, Ensign," she said by way of greeting.

"Hey, Seven," the Kim hologram said. "Care to join us?"

"I do not require-"

"Sure, we'd love to," Willow interrupted. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Torres said a bit reluctantly. "Who's your friend, Seven?"

Seven felt a tinge of annoyance as Willow sat down on the other side of the table, looking up at Seven expectantly. "This is my friend, Willow. Willow, this is Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres and Ensign Harry Kim." There. That was a proper social introduction, wasn't it?

"Hi there," Harry said.

"Hey," Willow said quietly. Again, she looked up to Seven expectantly.

Preferring to stand, Seven merely turned to 'Harry.' "Ensign Kim, what is your place of origin?"

"You mean where I grew up? Uh, South Carolina. It could get really hot in the-"

"Lieutenant," Seven cut him off, now addressing 'B'Elanna,' "how did you become a member of the Maquis?"

"Whoa! Hold on there, Seven," Willow said. "Sorry," she said apologetically. "We're just hoping to get to know you, y'know? So, uh, why don't we back it up a bit," she said with a look at Seven. "What was it like growing up in South Carolina, Ensign Kim?"

As the holographic Ensign launched into a detailed description of irrelevant minutiae, Seven found herself a tad annoyed that Willow had taken over the use of the program that the Doctor had designed specifically for her social development.

"Did you have any questions about South Carolina, Seven?" Willow said, causing her to refocus. "Any curiosities that you want to know about?"

"No." Really, what more was there to say? "Lieutenant," she said once again, "describe how you become a member of the Maquis."

Willow sighed. "Computer, freeze program."

The Doctor came up from behind Seven to join them. "Thank you, Miss Rosenberg."

"Uh, you're welcome?" Willow said as though she wasn't sure why she was being thanked.

Seven was beyond lost. "Explain."

"Well, Seven," Willow began, "it's just that when you socialize with people, you need to give them time to respond. Since, y'know, when you ask someone a question, you're implying that you want to know the answer."

"I did," Seven countered. "I inquired as to Ensign Kim's place of origin. He provided it. What more was there to be said?"

"That's not quite how socializing works, Seven," the Doctor said carefully. "When you're talking with people in such a setting, the point is to become more familiar with the person, not just with the facts of their life. Listening to them talk about themselves is a way to better understand the person as a whole."

Seven raised an eyebrow. "I don't understand."

"Well," Willow said, "let's take me, for example. It's been about a week or so since I first got here. What do you know about me as a person? That is to say, not facts about me, but how you see me as a person."

Seven felt a heat come to her cheeks, which she recognized as a biological symptom of embarrassment. "You are gentle, Willow. You care for people and do not wish to harm others. You have problems with control, and you do not like it when you lose that control. You count your closest friends as closer than family, and you would likely be happier if you had friends from your own time here with you."

Now Willow's face flushed. "Uh, yeah. That's right. I would be happier if I could see my friends again." Her eyes looked out the fake window. Seven recognized the gesture that many individuals did: looking out at the stars as though they held answers.

"But, right. How do you know that about me, Seven? How did you find all of that out?"

Seven was not prepared for the question, but she thought on it all the same. "We have spent time together over the past week," she said. "We have talked. You have shared details of your life with me. You have trusted me."

"Sure did!" Willow said with a smile. "And the reason I trusted you was because you made me feel comfortable enough to talk about myself. You showed an interest in me as a person, and you gave me time and respect that allowed me to share some things with you." Willow gestured at the still forms of Torres and Kim. "You didn't do that here, Seven. You didn't give them time or a whole lot of respect."

"Why should I?" Seven countered. "They are merely holograms."

"That's beside the point, Seven," the Doctor said with more than a hint of aggravation. "The holodeck is a place to pretend that the unreal is real. If you ever want to get to know the crew better, than you need to put into practice with them the same tactics you've used with Willow."

"But I do not want to know Ensign Kim or Lieutenant Torres," Seven countered. "Unless they have data to help me perform my duties more efficiently, what is the point of 'getting to know' them?"

Willow chuckled. "You remind me of Anya. She was a friend from back home. Well, kind of a friend. Friend of a friend. In a strange, demonic, vengeance-y sort of way. Let's look at this from a different angle, Seven. Is there anyone you do want to get to know better?"

"Yes," Seven answered with confidence. "I wish to become more acquainted with you and the Doctor," she said, turning to each of them.

The Doctor seemed taken by surprise. "You don't say," he said. "Why is that?"

"You are the only two people on Voyagerwho treat me as you would any other person, barring specific medical conditions. The rest of the crew will inevitably treat me differently because I am Borg. You do not."

"Oh, I dunno," Willow said with a grin. "This guy here, Ensign Kim… I've heard some stories about how he-"

"Those stories are irrelevant," Seven cut her off. She did not want to be reminded of the man's idiotic infatuation with her. "Ensign Kim treated me as he did with personal gain in mind."

"Oh, really? You don't say," Willow said, getting up from her seat to come closer to Seven. "I'd say I have something to gain from knowing you, Seven. That doesn't mean I don't care about you and what's best for you. Give people a bit of credit. They'll surprise you if you let them, and not always in a bad way."

"Aptly put, Miss Rosenberg," the Doctor said.

"Thank you," Willow replied. "And as for personal gain, I like to think that you're gaining something form being with… From… Oh, Goddess!"

"What's wrong?" Seven asked as Willow fell to the floor. "Doctor!"

The Doctor hurried over to Willow's side and took out his tricorder. "There's some sort of radiation permeating the ship. This could be affecting the entire crew. We need to get to the bridge."

"Doctor, wait!" Seven said as she looked at Willow.

The young redhead was chanting something under her breath that Seven couldn't understand. No longer clutching her head in pain, Willow was now seated calmly with her legs crossed over each other. As she chanted with her eyes closed, her hair began to pale until it was pure white.

"Doctor," Seven said again, "what is happening to her?"

"I don't know. But didn't she say that her hair turning white was a sign of her doing something beneficial?"

Before Seven could respond, she heard the Doctor's combadge report medical emergencies on Decks One, Two, and Six.

"I may need your help, Seven. As you and Mister Paris have both mentioned, we need to expand the medical staff to prepare for unexpected cases like this."

"It was Willow who suggested that," Seven said quietly, staring at the beautiful, peaceful woman with the flowing white hair.

"Seven?"

She snapped herself back into focus. "Yes, Doctor. I will comply."

Captain Janeway stumbled to her feet after the sudden onslaught of pain. Had it been something in the nebula they were approaching? It had to have been? "Ensign Kim, report." She had to know what she was up against.

"It looks like some form of radiation that I can't recognize is coming from the nebula, Captain. It's strange. Before we even backed away, some sort of barrier formed around the ship, integrating with our shields. It seems to be protecting the ship against the radiation."

"Barriers like that don't just spontaneously appear, Mister Kim. Where did it come from?"

"I have a hypothesis, Captain," Tuvok said from the tactical station. "Internal sensors are detecting anomalous readings that match the barrier around the ship. The barrier is being projected outwards from Holodeck One." The Vulcan's eyebrows moved up on his head a bit. "Miss Rosenberg is stationary in that room, Captain. The computer indicates that she was with the Doctor and Seven of Nine until the nebula began to affect us."

Janeway tapped her combadge. "Bridge to Holodeck One."

"Ayala here," the security officer assigned to Rosenberg said.

"Mister Ayala, can you please tell me what the hell is going on down there."

"I'm not sure, Captain. The Doctor and Seven of Nine exited and told us to watch over Miss Rosenberg as she… As she does whatever it is she's doing. Her hair has turned white, Captain."

Chakotay turned to look at Janeway. "Do you think she's keeping this barrier up? Protecting us?"

"It seems that way," Janeway said. "Keep an eye on Rosenberg until further notice, Mister Ayala. Janeway out. Mister Paris, back us off fifty thousand kilometers further away from that nebula. I want to know what we're up against without having to rely on whatever it is we're relying on now." She didn't know what Rosenberg was, but she'd proven to be cooperative over the past week, and had seemed quite genuinely sorry for what she'd done to Tom. She still warranted caution, but if Omega had been given free will and had chosen to help her ship and crew, Janeway figured she'd be a fool to turn that down.

"Aye, Captain," Tom answered from the helm.

The turbolift doors opened to admit the Doctor. "What happened here?" he asked as he moved towards a crewman with burns on his face.

"We all started to feel an intense pain," Janeway told him. "It seems as though Rosenberg is holding up a barrier between us and whatever radiation this nebula is putting out, but we've backed off just in case."

"I see. This man has second degree burns. Mister Paris, if you're able, I need your help in Sickbay. And Captain," the Doctor said as he turned to face Janeway, "I've been thinking about how reliant I've become on Mister Paris's skills, and I'd like to ask permission to begin training a larger medical team. With only myself, Mister Paris, Seven of Nine, and a small other number of…"

"I don't recall Seven of Nine ever being assigned medical duties," Janeway said, crossing her arms and feeling a touch of displeasure at the loose cannon that was Seven of Nine being trusted with such duties.

"As a drone, Captain, Seven had extensive knowledge of anatomy and biology for any number of species. I requested her help and she volunteered it for this particular matter, and I'd like to draw on her again if need be."

Janeway nodded. The thought was hardly without merit. "I'll consider it. Quite frankly, I'm sometimes amazed that we've gotten as far as we have without a larger medical staff."

The Doctor huffed. "I've had to make several modifications to my program to accommodate the lack of personnel. To quote something I heard Mister Paris say once, I've had to make myself better, stronger, and faster than I was before just to be able to keep up with the influx of patients. So thank you, Captain, but my services are needed in Sickbay. Mister Paris, with me, please."

"Right with you, Doc," Tom said as he helped the burned crewman to his feet and to the turbolift.

Janeway nodded as the Doctor and Tom left the bridge. "Chakotay, Tuvok, my ready room. Mister Kim, you have the bridge."

Not bothering to listen to the young Ensign's reply, the Captain strode to the room next door that served as her office, her executive and chief tactical officers right behind her. "Tuvok, what were you able to tell about the nebula before we were forced to turn back?"

"Sensors were unable to detect the size of the nebula, Captain," the gold-uniformed Vulcan said. "However, the astrometric sensors may be more suited to that task. I would estimate that circumventing the nebula would take significantly longer than traveling through it, if that is at all possible."

"How much longer, Tuvok?" Chakotay asked.

"I don't know, Commander. Ensign Kim or Seven of Nine would be better able to answer that question."

"There is the possibility that we could go through it safely," Chakotay put forth. "You said that we were protected from the radiation beforewe backed off?"

"That is correct, Commander. However, if you are proposing that Miss Rosenberg protect the ship for an extended period of time, that may not be possible."

"She's Omega incarnate, Tuvok," Janeway said more harshly than she intended. "Somehow I doubt that anything isn't possible for her."

"I disagree, Captain. The power of 'Omega incarnate' – as you phrased it – would indeed be great. But it would likely be Miss Rosenberg's will that would direct and control that power."

Janeway had to concede that point. Even if the Omega molecules in Rosenberg's body were stable, the will to bend such power would have to be enormous. "Would a mind-meld be feasible, Tuvok? To help her keep her power stable?"

Tuvok's brow lifted. "I am uncertain, Captain. I would only undertake such a procedure if no other option were viable, however. A mind-meld is a deeply personal connection. It is not something to be considered lightly."

The Captain slapped her knee. "Well, we'd better have a talk with Miss Rosenberg, I suppose." Janeway tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Ayala."

"Ayala here, Captain."

"Please activate the arch on the holodeck and patch me through to Miss Rosenberg."

There was a brief pause before the reply. "Understood, Captain. Patching you through. I'm not entirely certain that she'll be able to hear you, though."

Taking a seat at her desk, Janeway looked at her computer screen and saw the connection being made. Two security guards were flanking a white-haired and glowing Willow Rosenberg. She was sitting cross-legged with her eyes closed.

Janeway raised an eyebrow and let herself smirk a bit at the oddity in front of her. "Miss Rosenberg, if you can hear me, the danger to the ship has passed for the time being. You are free to release your… Your protection if you so desire."

The glow around the woman faded, and her hair reddened back to its normal hue. Her eyes opened and she stood up. "Thanks, Captain. Uh, where are you? Did you just talk through the wall or something?" she asked, looking around the room. "Uh, sorry, sir," she asked Ayala, "but, um, where's the Captain?"

Janeway had to hold in a bit of laughter at the cluelessness of the young woman as Ayala pointed her towards the screen on the arch. When the younger woman's eyes dawned in comprehension, she waved at the screen.

"It's good to see you back among us, Miss Rosenberg. I understand we have you to thank for preventing what could have been a much worse disaster."

"Oh, uh, you're welcome," Rosenberg said awkwardly. "I hope I didn't do anything funny to the ship by accident. Because that would be kinda bad. Unless it was a good kind of something that I did to the ship, in which case maybe I can try it again. But that might not be a good idea, actually, since magic isn't always predictable, and I'm babbling again so I'm gonna shut up now."

Janeway smiled despite herself. "I was hoping you might be able to help with whatever it is you were just doing for the duration of our trip through the nebula we just encountered. It seems to be putting out some sort of radiation that you were protecting us from."

"I could try, sure. But, uh, how long would I have to hold it for? 'Cause magic eats up a lot of energy on my part. But I'm not as exhausted as I should be. Weird. Maybe it's that Omega stuff."

"I beg your pardon?" Had someone been blabbing about Omega without authorization? Please, Seven, don't let it be you.

Rosenberg winced. "Sorry! Is that something I'm not supposed to talk about?"

"Certainly not with unauthorized personnel right beside you!" Janeway blurted out.

"Oh. My bad. Just a moment." Willow raised both arms to her sides. A pale glow was visible from either palm, and then she lowered her hands. "Okay. They can't hear what we're talking about anymore. So what's the deal with Omega? Or Particle 010, or whatever you call it? Seven said you detected it as soon as you detected me."

Dammit, Seven!Janeway shot a look at Tuvok who nodded and began to go and organize a security team. Her longest friend needed no words to understand the severity of the situation. "This conversation is not happening, Miss Rosenberg. Not now, not ever. Understood?"

"Uh, no? I mean, if this really powerful substance appeared right when I did, then we're probably connected, and I think I should know more about it."

"Well, I'm afraid you're out of luck, Miss Rosenberg. You 'think you should know' about classified information, and I'm not about to…"

"Is that what I am to you, Captain? 'Classified information?' Huh. The Doctor told me something like that, but I didn't realized that it applied to me, personally."

Janeway sighed. If the Doctor had also been talking about Omega, she might have to get B'Elanna to rewrite his program. "I think that if we're going to have this talk, it should be in a more appropriate venue. Now, if you would kindly allow me to give orders to my own men, Miss Rosenberg?"

"They can hear you, Captain. They just can't eavesdrop. Go ahead. Give your orders," Rosenberg said with crossed arms.

Janeway felt a shiver run down her spine. She'd thought that Rosenberg had deafened her officers somehow, but she claimed to have been creating a selectivebarrier. Willow Rosenberg seemed to be more in control of her powers than Tuvok had given her credit for. "Very well. Mister Ayala, please escort Miss Rosenberg to the briefing room."

"Understood, Captain."

"Good. Janeway out." Signing off from her terminal, the Captain leaned back in her chair and sighed.

Chakotay decided to give his opinion. "Seven of Nine has never really been a team player, but the Doctor may have been trying to abide by his ethical subroutines. Do you think we need to confine Seven to the cargo bay?"

"I hope not, Chakotay. Let's get the wounded taken care of first, and then we'll deal with this information leak."

Willow was bored. She had been waiting in the briefing room for two hours with nothing but the silent security team to keep her company. Yeah, she got an entire team all to herself, not just the two standard goons anymore. The black guy with the pointy ears – Tuvok if she remembered his name right – had two gold pips and a black one on his collar. He had mentioned his rank when she had first come aboard, but Willow didn't remember it off the top of her head, and Tom hadn't explained the rank markings beyond Lieutenant.

The waiting was more than boring, however. It was nerve-wracking. The medicine in the future seemed to be so advanced to Willow's eyes. And if it was taking this long for the Captain to get ready to talk with her, then the casualties must have been bad. Willow felt rather terrible that she hadn't gotten her spell up in time to help more. She might not like the military all that much in any shape or form, but she didn't want anyone to get hurt if she could help it.

"Um, Tuvok?" she asked for at least the fifth time in the past two hours. "Sorry, but I forgot your rank. And I just want you to know that I haven't been lying about my ability and willingness to help treat the injured. I mean, if anyone's hurt, then it's my fault for not acting fast enough, so I want to help if I can."

The Vulcan-in-question did not respond verbally, but he did raise his eyebrows a small bit. Willow figured that the eyebrows were a key indicator of emotions on a Vulcan visage. Stupid military and their no-talking rules. At least there aren't any guns pointed at me. And I guess they're not stopping me from talking.Willow decided not to push her luck in that matter, as irritating her guards would likely not be a good idea.

The doors finally opened to admit Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay, the Doctor and Seven of Nine. She'd only met the tattooed first officer once a few days ago, and he'd seemed nice enough, if a bit bland. It was good to see Seven and the Doctor, though. He might seem like a curmudgeon, but the Doctor was a really nice guy underneath it all. And Seven was really sweet. She was smart and sassy and sexy and so very innocent despite it all.

A nod from Janeway to the security team sent them all outside, except for Tuvok. Once the door closed behind the others, the officers and Seven took their seats. "Is everyone all right, Captain? I mean, did anyone get really badly hurt? I tried to get my spell up in time, but if I didn't, and someone got hurt because of it, then I want to…"

"Willow, relax," the Doctor said in a soothing voice. "From what we've been able to tell, a few crewmen suffered some burns, but nobody suffered anything that wasn't treatable. If it wasn't for you, we might have even had some fatalities."

The Captain sat at the head of the table and smiled gently at Willow. "I take the lives of my crew very seriously, Miss Rosenberg. You've just saved a number of my crew, and helped to stop what could have been an outright disaster. Thank you."

Willow hadn't expected that. "You're welcome! I'm just glad everyone's okay. And I was telling Tuvok over there – again, I'm sorry, but I forgot your rank – that I know some healing magic that I'd be willing to put to use in Sickbay. I mean, as long as we're going to be stuck out here for a while, I may as well make myself useful. A-and I took some psychology classes back on Earth. Of course, that's almost four hundred years old, and different species probably think really differently, but if I can help, then that'd be great."

Janeway was actually smiling, which surprised Willow considering the contentiousness of their conversation a few hours ago. "I'd been hoping that you'd be willing to help in some form or another. I just didn't know what would be best for you. Doctor? Could you put Miss Rosenberg to use in Sickbay?"

"Possibly," the hologram said carefully. "I'm not generally inclined to trust medical practices that I'm unfamiliar with. If you'd be willing to undergo formal medical training, Willow, then that would make me far more comfortable. However, I would not be against studying your own methods of healing, if that's even possible."

"Oh. Yeah, that'd be totally fine. I'm not that skilled with conventional medicine. Or, rather, what was conventional back in 2004. But, I know basic first aid and CPR and such. I've had to help tend to some pretty bad injuries back when I was on Earth. And I wasn't able to use magic for some of that. I mean, I'm not a doctor or anything, but I can recognize broken bones and stuff like that."

"Curious," Tuvok said from his seat across from Willow. "You claim to have no formal medical training, yet you also claim to have skill in treating injuries. Does your experience come from the group that the Topara referred to as 'Slayers?'"

"Slayers? What are you talking about, Tuvok?" the Doctor said with evident surprise.

"Miss Rosenberg, would you care to enlighten us?" Janeway prompted.

Willow felt too many eyes on her. "I'm kinda surprised you don't already know. I mean, this is a military ship, right? So, you guys would have all sorts of records from the Initiative, wouldn't you?"

"What initiative?" Commander Chakotay asked.

Willow observed all of their faces. "You really don't know? Well, I don't know if that was its official name, but the Initiative was a US Military operation back in my freshman year of college. They were studying the 'hostile sub-terrestrials,' as they liked to call demons, and even tried to make super-soldiers out of them. Idiots were in so far over their heads."

The looks on the others' faces told Willow that they were not buying the existence of demons. "And what exactly is a Slayer?" the Captain asked.

"A Slayer," Willow said carefully, "is a chosen warrior meant to fight and, well, slay demons. But only the bad ones. Because there are actually some good ones, contrary to popular belief. Except that popular belief is probably that demons are made-up, and I get the impression that you're not believing a word I'm saying."

"I would not necessarily discount your words as false, Miss Rosenberg," Tuvok said.

"You wouldn't?" Janeway said with surprise.

"No, Captain. The Topara claimed that Slayers battled 'threats from Beyond.' Perhaps what they believed to be demons were actually hostile non-humans from off-world."

"Nope," Willow said. "Demons. Not aliens. Never met aliens before the Topara. We thought they were demons at first, actually. Thought they were trying to invade. And as for the 'threats from Beyond,' try extra-dimensional, not extra-terrestrial. Except for that one time which was kinda both."

"And you were one of these 'Slayers,' Miss Rosenberg?" Chakotay asked.

"No, not me. I didn't even know that such things existed until my sophomore year of high school. I was never a Slayer. I was one of the support crew for Buffy until I activated all the Slayers around the world. Then I helped track them all down and helped to organize and coordinate everything. There only used to be one at a time, you see, but that's kind of a long story."

Seven arched her metal eyebrow, which Willow found incredibly sexy. "You activated them? Clarify."

"Uh, I did a spell so that everyone with the potential to be a Slayer actually became a Slayer. That equals enhanced strength, stamina, heightened senses, faster healing, and some other powers that I'm not recalling off the top of my head. Oh! Prophetic dreams, right! Can't forget that."

Willow took a deep breath and looked the Captain straight in the eye. "And that's something that I think we're both wondering about. My power, or rather the source of that power. I know it as magic. You know it as Omega. The Borg know it as Particle 010. And from what I gather, that's not common knowledge."

"No, it's not," Janeway said, suddenly stern. "Quite frankly, I'd like to know how you found out about Omega in the first place, Miss Rosenberg. Did you pry it from someone's mind?"

Willow paled at the suggestion. "No! Goddess, no! Seven mentioned that something called Omega appeared at the same time I did. I'm kinda glad she told me, since it seems like something I deserve to know. She seemed to think that Omega was inside of me."

Janeway set her gaze on the ex-drone. "Seven? Is this true?"

"Yes, Captain. The conversation happened as Willow described it."

"I see. Miss Rosenberg, are you aware of why knowledge of Omega is so carefully guarded?"

"Uh, is it because it's so uber-powerful, and that power in the wrong hands could be really bad?"

"Not just that," Janeway said. "But that power has never been successfully harnessed. Not until now. The failed attempts to do so have all been disastrous and highly destructive. You are, quite frankly, something we thought was impossible."

"Oh." Willow didn't quite know what to say to that. "Is that good or bad?"

"That depends," Seven said. "Captain, do you intend to carry out the Omega Directive?"

Something in Seven's voice sent a chill through Willow's body. "What is she talking about, Captain?" Willow asked fearfully.

"I'm sorry, Willow, but that's classified. As classified as it gets," Janeway said with some sympathy. Willow did not miss the use of her first name, likely in an attempt to soothe her. "Any discussion of the Omega Directive beyond these walls will warrant the most severe punishment. I am sorry, but this is-"

"Me!" Willow shouted. "This concerns me. This isme! I think I have the right to know."

"Well, you don't," Janeway said, her voice suddenly hard as steel. "End of debate."

"No, Captain," Seven said with equal hardness. "If you will not tell Willow what Starfleet intends for her, then I will."

Janeway rose to her feet and slapped her combadge. "Security to the briefing room." She looked to the Vulcan. "Tuvok."

Willow also got to her feet as she saw Tuvok pull his laser thing from his belt and train it on her and Seven. "What are you doing?" Willow protested, feeling confused and afraid. "What have we done that you need to point weapons at us for?"

The security team that had been with Willow before the meeting started re-entered the briefing room. "Take Miss Rosenberg and Seven of Nine to Sickbay. Unconscious."

Before Willow could even comprehend what was going on, a number of phaser blasts struck her in the chest, and she felt rage course through her as she saw Seven fall to the ground alongside her. Another wave of blasts struck her, and Willow's world went dark.

Janeway let out a sigh of what might have been relief as the two women felt to the floor. "Doctor, prepare both Seven and Rosenberg for surgery. I don't want either of them remembering anything about the Omega Directive."

"You want me to erase their memories? Captain, have you lost your mind?" the Doctor shouted. "They haven't done anything to warrant such treatment! This goes against everything in my programming."

"Doctor, what do you think Rosenberg would do if she knew the truth? Be honest."

"Honestly, Captain, I think that if you had told her the truth and treated her as something other than a security risk, she would have understood. She knows very well the risks that her power can present. Even if she doesn't know the specifics of Omega, she's used to the burden of power." As dangerous as she was, Willow did have a rapport with him and with Seven, and she seemed genuinely remorseful for the harm she had done to Mister Paris.

The Captain simply narrowed her eyes. "Unfortunately, I can't take that risk. I understand how Seven and Rosenberg probably feel, but it's simply too much to ask that Rosenberg won't destroy us all if she finds out what's in store for her. Now, prepare them both for surgery behind a level ten force field. And there will be a security team standing by that's been treated to resist telepathy. Understood?"

The Doctor was at a loss. On the one hand, the Captain's orders went against the very core of his programming, which was very specifically meant to do no harm. On the other hand, if he refused, then the Captain would likely have a security team keep either Seven or Willow or both of them restrained indefinitely to ensure the safety of Voyager. If Willow resisted, the Doctor wondered if Janeway might carry out the Omega Directive and kill her.

"I understand, Captain," he said solemnly. "I'll begin the preparations at once."

"Very good, Doctor. Dismissed."

With a breathless sigh to indicate his irritation, the Doctor exited the briefing room and began to think what he was going to do about this. He wasn't about to violate two innocents for no good reason, no matter what he'd told the Captain. And if she wouldn't let them keep their memories on board, then they'd have to keep their memories away from Voyager. It was time to plan a rescue.