Author's Note:
Yes... this was another fun chapter to write.
A big thank you goes out to FusionPanda who provided the snazzy new cover image to the story. Molte grazie!
Chapter 5
Delta Quadrant 2100
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship
[Cargo Bay 2]
Seven of Nine, late tertiary adjunct of the Borg Collective and current Astrometrics Officer for the Federation starship USS Voyager, stood at the data terminal in Cargo Bay 2, entering intricate computations, her mind swirling with equations and theories regarding the spatial anomaly that bridged two universes. She had discovered that if she concentrated very hard on work, it usually kept her from feeling anxious or uncertain, which had been occurring at an increasing rate of frequency over the last few months. More often than not, the onset of these unpredictable emotions manifested in direct correlation to thoughts about the Captain or to the time they spent doing irrelevant things. Things that had grown in relevance the more she and her captain spent time doing them together, such as recreational activities on the holodeck or having breakfast in the Mess.
The absence of those emotions was a welcome relief to Seven, though it inevitably did not last very long. Even now she felt the flutter of anxious anticipation spread though her abdomen, a sensation which Naomi Wildman once equated to "having butterflies in her stomach." Another imprecise human idiom that was inaccurate, but nonetheless effective in its description of what Seven felt.
Aboard starships and space stations, there is technically no such thing as "night" or "day," however, on Voyager, three duty shifts encompassed a 24 hour period. One Earth standard day. The Alpha shift, also known as the day shift began at 0800 hours and ended at 1600. The Beta shift, or swing shift started at 1600 and ended at 2400. The Gamma Shift, which was referred to as the night shift, ran between the times when the Beta shift ended and the Alpha shift began. Since being stranded in the Delta Quadrant seven years ago, Captain Janeway had developed a habit, whenever possible, of walking through the corridors of Voyager towards the end of the Beta shift. Not only did this exploration familiarize her with lesser known nooks of the starship, she was also able to interact with crew members she would normally have little contact with, which had the positive effect of strengthening ship moral. Over the last few months, though, the Captain had changed her normal route, ending her stroll at the door of Cargo Bay 2.
This knowledge was the catalyst of Seven's anticipation, and despite the technological distinctiveness of the Borg enhancements coursing through her body, she was unable to quell the subsequent nervousness.
As if sensing the ex-Borg's unsettled state, the doors to the cargo bay opened.
"Burning the midnight oil, Seven?" Janeway said as she moved through the threshold and headed toward the console where Seven was adamantly focused. There was a greenish tinge to the illumination in this area of the cargo bay, tainted by the sickly emerald light emanating from the Borg alcoves lining one wall.
"Fossil fuels are an inferior source of energy."
"Back in the day, they were the only source of energy."
Seven looked up, her pale blue eyes brightening at the sight of her captain. "It is fortunate then that we are no longer confined by those limitations." Compact, with the most marvelous gray-blue eyes and auburn hair laced with fire, Kathryn Janeway was a woman who radiated authority and presence like a warp core radiated energy. That didn't necessarily hold much weight with Seven, depending on the circumstances, but it was a characteristic worth noting.
"True. So what have you found out about the rift?"
Seven had not mentioned that she was going analyze the anomaly, Janeway just knew her that well.
"I am reviewing the data the Tarian scientist's provided, but the information is insufficient. I suggest reconfiguring Voyager's astrometric sensors on the anomaly, analyzing the full broadcast spectrum."
"Do it. Hopefully, our scans will pick up something the Tarians missed."
"Yes, Captain."
Janeway strolled over to the console and peered at the data Seven had been studying. "And what of our guests?"
"Admiral Shepard and Doctor T'Soni were escorted to the VIP quarters, as requested." Seven knew Janeway had reviewed her report regarding Voyager's new inhabitants, but she also knew her captain liked to hear about those details that didn't usually make it into official documentation—first impressions, gut instincts, personal reflections. Although Seven didn't value such imprecise deduction, she attempted to fulfill her captain's unspoken request. "A meal was brought to their room though they insisted they needed nothing. I believe they are still 'adjusting' to their new surroundings."
"Being transported into another universe would unsettle most people."
"Did the conference with the Tarian High Command go well?" Seven asked, knowing that the unscheduled meeting had consumed most of her captain's afternoon.
"If going around in circles is progress, then yes."
Seven smiled minutely at the adorably annoyed expression Janeway possessed. "The meeting was unproductive?"
Looking up from the console, Janeway found herself staring into the most beautiful pair of inquisitive blue eyes she could ever recall seeing. "If anything," the older woman mused, "it emphasized the need for some social and historical context between Admiral Shepard's System Alliance and the Batarians. Trying to contain a fire when you don't know its origin feels somewhat futile."
Frowning slightly, Seven said, "I thought Admiral Shepard agreed to give you a copy of the historical database from her shuttle."
Janeway nodded. "She did. But to avoid any more unexpected incidences, I have requested that she retrieve it in the morning. The cargo bay should be… cleaned up by then."
"Their hostility toward each other makes a diplomatic solution unlikely."
"Not too long ago the same could be said about the Federation and the Klingons."
"Peace was only achieved after Klingon Chancellor Gorkon was assassinated."
Janeway sighed ruefully, knowing that the blonde, with her perfect memory, remembered the signing of the first Khitomer Accords correctly. "I'd like to avoid that part."
Tilting her head, Seven studied her captain, noticing the appearance of periorbital dark circles under the older woman's eyes. "You look tired, Captain," she noted.
"It's been a long day, Seven," Janeway replied, offering a slight smile at her Astrometric officer's barely veiled concern. Not only had the means of acquiring the dilithium for Voyager's survival become much more complex, but it had also become tarnished with the death of one of her crew.
"Sleep would be beneficial to you."
"Just as much as a regeneration cycle would be to you."
Although she could go days without regenerating, a state similar to sleep, in order to properly maintain her Borg implants and remain at peak efficiency, Seven had to regenerate at least three hours a day. "I will regenerate when I have finished analysis of all the data."
Janeway rested a hand lightly on Seven's arm. "You'll regenerate now." Then, with a twinkle in her eye she softly added, "That's an order."
For a moment, the connecting gaze that Janeway gave Seven made the heart of the ex-Borg stutter, such was its mysterious intensity. Mysterious because Seven couldn't read her captain and she desperately wanted to know what was swirling behind those gray-blue eyes. Instead of asking, though, she replied, "Yes, Captain."
Seven made her way to the Borg alcove, stepped onto its platform, then turned around so she was facing out toward the cargo bay. "You will proceed to your quarters immediately after leaving the cargo bay."
Suppressing a laugh, Janeway replied, "I promise." Only the ex-Borg would have enough gumption to give an order to the Captain… on her own ship!
"Good night, Captain," Seven said. Then, she took a step back into the alcove, closed her eyes and allowed her cortical node to initiate a regeneration cycle.
Janeway manually dimmed the lights through the console and then made her way to the cargo bay doors. Before stepping through the threshold, she turned around and allowed herself a moment to gaze upon the peaceful visage of her Astrometrics officer.
Though outwardly the Captain could be easily described as self-confident, extrovert, and outgoing, she was also very alone. When she went back to her quarters at the end of a shift, she was a single entity with no bonded connection to another, other than in a professional form. With Seven, some of that loneliness and self-isolation had been chipped away. Although Janeway would never have told another living soul, it had resulted in her feeling more a part of life aboard the Voyager, and had done much to disperse some of the depressions she seemed fated to sporadically suffer.
Sighing contentedly, her characteristic half-smile tugging on her lips, she whispered, "Good night, Seven. Sweet dreams."
…(/\)…
Delta Quadrant 0800
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship
[Deck 2, Corridor]
Shepard gave a sideways glance toward the blonde walking a step ahead of her through Voyager's corridor. "Your ship is monitoring my whereabouts. You don't need to escort me."
Without altering her stride, Seven replied, "You are unfamiliar with Voyager's design."
"Your ship can give me directions," Shepard countered.
"I am a more efficient guide."
The Spectre snorted. "Guide or chaperon?"
Seven's gaze remained focused on the path before them. She knew Tuvok's security team covertly monitored the whereabouts of their two guests, but she had no intention of letting them roam freely through Voyager. "Do you require a chaperon?"
"Most days, Liara would prefer that I have one."
"Then my presence should please her."
At that moment they reached Cargo Bay One, hesitating briefly to let the doors open, then stepping through the threshold and heading in the direction of the prototype shuttle.
"You think so, huh?" A small smirk tugged at the corner of Shepard's mouth as she discretely eyed the ex-Borg. "Somehow I doubt she'd like my chaperon being dressed quite so… provocatively."
"Provocativeness is an individual's singular perception." Although part of her argued that it was illogical, Seven found that the human woman who walked next to her was rather intriguing.
"I doubt I'm the only one who finds your attire provocative."
"It is also irrelevant." Seven also found said woman to be just as equally annoying.
They stopped in front of the shuttle and Shepard's hand reached for the security keypad, but instead of keying in any codes, she tilted her head towards the blonde, giving her an undisguised, rakish once-over. "Says the woman wearing the catsuit."
Stifling an irritated sigh, Seven turned to face the Spectre, her optical implant arching suspiciously. "Catsuit?"
"Yeah, you know… catsuit… a close fitting one piece garment covering the body from neck to toe." Shepard took another appreciative look at the ex-Borg, admiring her tremendous physical presence which was an intriguing mix of muscular power and eye-catching femininity. "And it leaves very little to the imagination while doing so."
"Your definition is incorrect," Seven stated matter-of-factly. "This is a biosuit woven with lightweight graphene coated fibers which offer increased flexibility and protection while the polymers embedded with microencapsulated chemicals help support the remaining Borg technology in my body."
"In my universe, it's called a catsuit."
"Your universe is flawed."
Shepard chuckled, returning her attention back to the keypad as her fingers entered the complex security code. "I can't argue with that logic," she mused.
Then, the shuttle's outer hatch opened and they both stepped inside.
…(/\)…
[Mess Hall] 0800
Janeway sipped on her cup of coffee, looking across the table at Liara who scrutinized and picked through her plate of food as though it was a new life form. She had encountered many unique individuals throughout the course of her Starfleet career, with wildly different physical traits and cultural distinctiveness, and the Asari who was trying her best to politely make it through an unappealing meal was the newest among them all.
"How do you and the Admiral know each other?" she asked.
Relief washed across the Asari's features as she placed her fork down on her plate and reached for her glass of water. "We met ten years ago on a planet called Therum. I was an archaeologist studying some ruins at a remote dig site." After taking a drink, Liara added, "She helped me against a group of mercenaries. In return, I helped her hunt down the Reapers."
"That seems a little out of the ordinary for an archaeologist."
"While traveling with Shepard, I learned that our galaxy was on the brink of being invaded by an ancient adversary, one we never knew existed. A highly advanced machine race responsible for a cycle of genocide that spanned across countless millennia. Standing with Shepard, opposing the Reapers, didn't seem so out of the ordinary at the time."
"I see your point," Janeway conceded. "She seems like a very capable individual."
Liara's hand immediately covered her mouth, barely masking her urge to laugh with a brief cough. "Oh," she said, lacing her words with a conspiratorially tone, "you have no idea."
"Has she always been so…" Janeway wavered as she struggled to find the correct, least-offensive descriptor. She was trying to gain some insight so in future meetings she would know how to handle the Spectre.
"Hot-headed?" Liara said innocently, though she was clearly amused by Janeway's obvious internal debate. "Or perhaps 'combative' is the word you are so carefully trying to avoid? Or maybe belligerent? Antagonistic?"
Janeway smiled and gently shook her head. She knew she was being teased. "Maybe I was thinking of them all," she said playfully.
Liara's blue eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the human woman sitting across the table, then a broad, genuine smile broke across her features. "Then my answer to your question is, yes, Captain, she has always been all of that. And much, much more."
"You've known her a long time."
"I have." Liara suspected the Captain was fishing about the nature of her relationship with the Spectre, so she added, "Shepard and I are, as humans say, together. But sometimes it is easier for her to categorize our relationship in Asari terms rather than human." A hint of a smile tugged at Liara's lips. "Somehow it is less daunting to her."
"And what is the Asari term?"
"We are bondmates. The closest equivalent would be to that of human marriage."
Janeway's brow furrowed, almost imperceptibly, while she took another sip of coffee and contemplated the Asari's revelation.
Noticing the human's reticence, Liara said, "You seem surprised, Captain."
"If I'm honest, I am a little surprised."
"By what? That she is with someone of another species or that she entered into a long-term, committed relationship at all?"
"The relationship," Janeway said, somewhat startled by her own candor. "Because of my career, I've never found personal relationships easy."
Being the captain of a starship, and the highest ranking Federation officer in the Delta Quadrant, didn't leave Janeway with many opportunities or options to speak with anyone about personal matters. There were no executive peers to consult with or family members to confide in. In many ways, although she was on a ship with over a hundred other individuals, she was alone. She always felt that the best way to lead was to create well-defined boundaries between her personal and professional life, but being stranded in the Delta Quadrant, where the only personal interaction was with the very crew she was leading, made it difficult to always know where those boundaries were laid. Over the years, she found that the best way to go about creating the balance was to step back from her personal needs and look at what was best for her crew. They didn't need a friend as much as they needed a leader. So now, while speaking with Liara, the part of her that she had shelved and locked away so long ago, was almost desperate to come out.
"Our relationship has never been easy," Liara said, deciding to divulge a few more personal details. "In fact, when we first met I found out I was not her type."
Janeway took another sip of coffee. "Because of you being an Asari?"
"Because I was single."
"Oh…"
"Shepard was much like you," Liara said as she attempted to explain her bondmate's personality at the beginning of their relationship. "She found it difficult to find balance in romantic relationships, so she quite purposely kept those relationships casual."
"Until she met you."
"My species is long-lived which gives us a natural inclination to be patient," Liara replied, chuckling softly at some private memory. "I knew what I wanted so I waited until the right opportunity presented itself, then I made Shepard an offer she could not refuse."
"I see that she's not the only strategist in the relationship."
"For what it is worth, she and I developed a friendship before embarking on anything more intimate."
Although it was liberating to talk candidly with the Asari, Janeway wasn't sure she liked the path their conversation had taken. "Are you suggesting that I need relationship advice?"
"I would never presume as much, Captain."
"But you think a personal relationship holds my attention."
"I have been in very same place you are standing now, that limbo of uncertainty, so the signs are easy for me to recognize."
…(/\)…
[Cargo Bay One]
While Seven was seated at the prototype shuttle's command console, studying its readout, Shepard packed a bag of personal items. Her years of military service had instilled the habit of bringing along an "essentials kit", because regardless of how well planned the mission, she knew the unexpected could happen... unexpectedly. The kit included a variety of personal items—sonic tooth brush, preferred toiletries, a data pad of her favorite novels along with a flask of eight-five year old single-malt whiskey, for when a reminder of the finer things was needed. Although Voyager could replicate most of the items, for this particular unexpected scenario, a touch of familiarity was necessary. Something that reminded her of home. She also packed a few items that Liara had requested.
"I'm curious," the Spectre said. "Has your crew ever considered finding a planet of their own? A place to settle down?"
Although her focus remained on the monitor, Seven answered the question. "Captain Janeway is committed to getting Voyager back to Earth."
"From what I've read, that could take decades, and I'm sure there are many dangers and hostilities ahead."
Spinning around in the chair, the blonde's icy blue gaze confronted the Spectre's. "We will adapt," she stated definitively.
Shepard glanced at Seven with a raised eyebrow, a small smile quirking the corner of her mouth. "I bet you will."
"There seems to be a lot of hostility in your own universe, as well."
"No more so than yours, Seven. The Vidians, the Kazon, Species 8472, the Borg… should I go on?"
"I see you have studied our historical database."
"Just like you're studying the one from my ship right now."
"It seemed the most productive use of my time," Seven of Nine said in her cool, even tone. "In sickbay, you mentioned you had been at war with a sentient machine race."
"Yes." Shepard wondered where Seven was leading the conversation. "The Reapers wanted to harvest all advanced life, organic and synthetic, in my galaxy. They failed. The war ended seven years ago, but it will take many more years to recover."
"The information on how the Reaper's were defeated is deficient."
"It's not so much deficient as it is classified."
"According to your ship's database, you were directly responsible for ending their invasion."
"I was one of many who put their life on the line that day." Seeing that the blonde was dissatisfied with that answer, Shepard added, "Yes, I was there at the very end. And yes, I may have even pulled the final trigger. But without all of those other soldiers—from all races across our galaxy—I would never have made it that far and the Reapers would have continued to annihilate all sentient life in their path."
"You do not relish the role of hero then?"
Shepard was quiet for a moment before she verbalized her own statement of truth. "There was no one hero on that final day, there were thousands." After zipping up the duffel bag, Shepard sat down in the aft station chair. "What about Voyager? How did your ship end up in the Delta Quadrant?"
"Seven years ago, while Voyager was attempting to apprehend a renegade Maquis vessel, both Voyager and the Maquis were pulled into the Delta quadrant by powerful alien technology. It was a one way trip. Stranded 70,000 light-years from Earth, Captain Janeway convinced the Maquis to join her Starfleet crew and serve together during their voyage back to Federation space."
Looking dumbfounded, Shepard raked her fingers through her short red locks. "70,000 light-years," she muttered, "that is one helluva rabbit hole."
"Over the years Voyager's crew has proven to be both creative and adaptive. Through various efforts they have been able to shorten their journey back to the Alpha Quadrant by many decades."
"What about you? You don't wear their uniform, and the way you talk, it sounds like you weren't around for the beginning."
"I was not. I was assimilated by the Borg as a child and formed part of the Collective for eighteen years. Three years ago, Captain Janeway freed me."
Not for the first time Shepard's gaze came to rest on the metallic grey implant framing Seven's her left eye. She also noted a small starburst that adorned the blonde's right cheek. "I assume the cybernetics are remnants from you time with the Borg."
"The Doctor was able to remove most of the Borg implants, but my long-term assimilation means that some parts are vital to my survival and cannot be removed."
"We should start a club," Shepard said.
Hearing a tone of bitterness in the Spectre's statement, Seven asked, "Your cybernetics cannot be removed?"
"If I want to quicken the rate of my demise, sure," Shepard said, her features darkening. "Otherwise, no."
Seven had seen the Doctor's scans and knew the Spectre's cybernetic components were embedded within the human's organs, bone and flesh. Although not as easily visible as her own, the implants that existed were just as pervasive. Instead of saying anything, she returned her attention back to the console.
Shepard readjusted her position in the chair, straightening her posture. Her eyes had an unfocused look, as though caught in a memory, until she sighed heavily and shook her head.
"I did some reading last night," she said, thinking back to one of her discussions with Liara earlier in the morning. They had both spent the night reading through the unrestricted files in Voyager's database, trying to understand the universe they found themselves stranded in. "The Borg's hive-mind infrastructure sounds similar species of space-faring insects in my universe, the Rachini. Do you remember what it was like to be connected to that?"
Seven tilted her head, a slight wrinkle appearing between her brows. "I was part of a vast consciousness, billions of minds working together. A harmony of purpose and thought. No indecision, no doubts. The security and strength of a unified will." She was quiet for a moment. "Then, I was alone."
"That sounds like a difficult transition."
"I was no longer Borg and the prospect of becoming human was… unsettling." Seven's features softened slightly and a hint of a smile appeared on her lips. "But Captain Janeway has been very patient and made it possible for me to reclaim my humanity."
"You have a lot of respect for the captain."
"I owe her much."
…(/\)…
[Mess Hall]
Janeway took a sip of her coffee, enjoying the taste of the hot bitter liquid as it slipped past her tongue. "So not all individuals in your universe have biotic abilities, but your species does?"
"All Asari are naturally biotic to some degree," Liara said, "though not all choose to develop their abilities. Those who do pursue training usually display formidable ability."
As she considered the Asari's words, Janeway's eyes darted around the room, noting that most of the crew had given their table a wide berth. Truthfully, she wasn't sure if it was because their captain was at the table, or an unfamiliar alien, or if they were just being polite. "May I ask you a personal question?"
Although she sensed a drastic shift in topic, Liara nodded. "Of course, Captain."
"I hear Shepard call you by your first name, yet you only refer to her by her last or her title. Is there some sort of cultural significance?"
Liara settled back into her chair, taking a drink from her mug of freshly brewed hot herbal tea. "No. There is no such cultural precedent for the Asari or humans in our universe."
"Then your reluctance to call her by her first name…"
"Is a personal request and should be taken up with her," Liara replied, her expression inscrutable.
"Yes. Of course," Janeway said, sounding chagrined. "I apologize if I have offended."
"There is no need to apologize. You are not the first to ask, nor do I believe that you will be the last."
Janeway frowned, but then nodded, acknowledging that she understood what she had just been told. "Your bondmate is a complicated individual."
Liara remained quiet for moment, organizing her thoughts while the forefinger of her right hand lazily traced the rim of her mug. Finally, she looked up and met the captain's penetrating gaze. "In war, she is ruthless, but she also has the capacity for great compassion."
"Except when it comes to Batarians," Janeway commented dryly.
Liara tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. "Don't think too badly of Shepard. She has more reasons than most to hate Batarians."
"Such as?"
"Well," Liara began, "she…"
The Asari hesitated midsentence, closing her eyes, as though debating whether or not to tell the story. Then, she took a deep grounding breath and when her eyes opened, Janeway noticed a steely determination lingering within their dark blue depths.
"When Shepard was a young child, Batarians raided the colony where she and her family lived." A pained look flashed across the Asari's face before she continued. "These weren't pirates or scavengers, Captain, these were slavers. And they weren't known for doing things, as you humans say, quick or pretty. The colonists put up a fight, but in the end, of her family, only she survived."
"I see," Janeway said, not unkindly. This new knowledge did allow for some insight into the Spectre's behavior, but not enough to satisfy Janeway's curiosity.
As though reading her thoughts, Liara said, "You may or may not want more personal details, Captain, but if you do..."
"Then I will have to ask the Admiral directly."
"Yes, Captain."
Janeway blinked, then took another drink from her cup, draining its contents. She had a feeling it was going to be another long day.