Several days later, Chakotay was barking orders on the bridge and off of it. Tom tried to intervene and take the edge off with a bit of humor here and there but it only seemed to anger his Captain more. Even Harry had been reduced to quick 'Aye, Captain's with minimal eye contact.

Tom knew what the problem and he also knew he couldn't fix it. He decided to take matters into his own hands and send a message to Admiral Janeway to at least acknowledge Chakotay's reply and save them from the tyranny that threatened to overtake Voyager's crew. He also had yet to receive a reply.

He could not know that Kathryn was spending her days and nights alone in a glorified cave with minimal creature comforts. The replicator would dispense nothing but food and she was slowing going crazy with boredom. She signified each day and night by the waxing and waning of the light from the small window that was too high to even afford her a view of the beautiful scenery she knew surrounded her prison.

Seven had been silent. There had been no visits. No contact. And Kathryn's hope that someone would notice her as missing by now was growing dimmer. She knew Chakotay would have thought that she didn't respond because she was still angry with him. He was probably furious that she hadn't replied and would make no attempt to contact her until Voyager returned to port.

Kathryn had scratched into the rock face to mark her days and knew that she had another month to go before that happened if he bothered to look for her at all. He said he was done if she didn't show up upon his return and Chakotay was usually good for his word.

It puzzled her though that Starfleet hadn't missed her. Surely, someone would have noticed her work piling up by now. She could not know that Seven had that covered, literally.

Seven worked feverishly to finish her classes. True to her word to Admiral Paris, she visited Kathryn's office daily. She returned her messages and compiled status reports. So far, nothing had been beyond Seven's capabilities and the knowledge of Starfleet's classified and not so classified information was a bonus she was sure would be useful one day.

As far as anyone knew, Kathryn was alive and well and marching through every request given to her and returning it in a timely fashion. It was Admiral Paris who first noticed something was amiss while reading one of Kathryn's reports. The language and style was off. It was clipped and curt and while Kathryn had always been one for brevity and straight shots the writing reminded him of someone else's log entries and she wasn't an Admiral.

The Admiral made his way to Seven's office where he found her typing away. He took the seat she offered and said, "So how's Kathryn doing these days? I haven't run into her lately around the offices."

"I'm sure she's quite well. Did you not get her reports as requested? She told me she sent them to you."

He held up a padd and placed it on her desk. "You mean you sent them to me."

Seven faced the Admiral. "Excuse me?"

Admiral Paris put up his hand. "It's okay. I'm glad you're helping to clear the backlog. I'm a little concerned about the subject matter she is sharing with you but I trust her judgment and nothing I've received has been of a classified nature."

"How did you know?"

"Writing style. I'd know Kathryn's reports anywhere. And these aren't hers."

"I was just trying to offer my assistance."

Admiral Paris rose up from his seat. "Like I said, Seven, I'm glad you've been able to do that. Just let Kathryn know her little secret is out. I'd stop by myself but I have a meeting this afternoon."

"Actually, I don't think she'd be there. I heard her mention possibly taking some time off after working so hard this past week."

"Of course, tell her she's earned it. I'll see you later."

"Yes, sir." Seven frowned and picked up the discarded padd. It was time to check on her caged bird and put her back to work.