Summary: Seven leads a medical away mission to a plague-ridden planet, and something goes terribly wrong. The away team, previously thought impervious to the effects of the disease are slowly falling under its influence. Will Janeway be able to rescue her crew and the woman she now realizes she loves in time?

Where Angels Fear to Tread
 S. Thompson

"Are you sure?"

If it weren’t for the trace of fear in Captain Kathryn Janeway’s voice, Chakotay might have found the situation almost comical. However, Federation Starship captains did not frighten easily and this was no ordinary away mission.

Voyager had picked up a distress signal from a small L-class planet, called Gintara, in the Coreanus system approximately six hours earlier. An extremely virulent plague had infected the majority of the population and effected a seventy-five percent mortality rate.

The Gintarans hadn’t been able to synthesize an antigen from the healthy individuals or determine why they were immune since the medical personnel were also deathly ill.

Although they were lost in the Delta Quadrant, almost 50,000 light years from home, Voyager was responding in the best Starfleet tradition by providing whatever assistance they could.

"I’m sorry, Kathryn, but she is a senior officer and it’s her turn in the barrel," he reasoned.

"Her turn in the barrel?" Janeway asked indignantly. "Chakotay, this is a dangerous medical away mission. We’re talking about a plague, not a carnival attraction. The Doctor should be leading it, not Seven. As a hologram he would be immune from the effects . . . "

"I’m sorry," he interrupted, "but the Doctor can’t lead the rescue team."

Knowing her responsibilities as captain very often included sending her crew into potentially life-threatening situations did absolutely nothing to help her feel objective in this case. Indeed, the fear causing her heart to pound in her chest caused her to croak . . .

"Just why the hell not?"

Chakotay took a deep breath, calming himself with an effort. Kathryn’s constant over protectiveness and personal interaction with the ex-Borg got to him occasionally. He fought down his jealous reaction, knowing that an intimate relationship with his captain had never been in the cards. She had never felt for him the same way he had for her.

In fact, to anyone watching closely, it was apparent that the Starship captain had fallen for a certain former drone, even if she wouldn’t admit it to anyone. Including herself. His natural compassion resurfaced as he realized that he only wanted his friend to be happy.

But he still had a job to do.

"Harry discovered the planet’s core gives off a natural scattering field. The Doctor’s holo-matrix would destabilize instantly. Someone has to lead the medical team and Seven is more than qualified."

Captain Janeway slowly lowered her eyes to her desktop, knowing he was right and not liking it one bit.

"Assign the medical support team," she said finally, raising her eyes to meet those of her first officer. "I want everyone in fully contained bio-suits," she added emphatically.

"Understood. Seven’s implants will have to be occluded. Apparently the Gintarans have a phobia to cybernetic life-forms. One too many encounters with the Borg, I suspect."

"Fine, I guess I can understand how they feel. Assign minimal personnel on the preliminary team. They’re to take tricorder readings and tissue samples for analysis, then get back here. I’m sure the Doctor can try to come up with an antidote from whatever data the away team finds. We’ll meet in the conference room in one hour."

"Yes ma’am," he said, rising to his feet. "I’ll let Seven know she’ll be in charge of the away team," he said as he turned to leave.

"No!"

"No?" he asked, turning back in confusion.

"No," Kathryn repeated in a softer tone. "I’ll tell her."

Chakotay wondered briefly why the captain had to tell Seven in person. Perhaps she was finally acknowledging her emotions. If so, he could only hope she would finally tell Seven, since he was convinced the lanky blond returned Kathryn’s feelings.

He wanted to pursue that topic, but knew it would only cause Kathryn to withdraw into herself. To his credit he only said, "Aye, Captain," before exiting the ready room.

At least he had the comfort of knowing that the woman that would always hold his heart wouldn’t be going down to the deadly planet.

************************

Seven immediately identified her visitor without looking up as the doors to Astrometrics swished open.

"Captain, how may I assist you," she asked, inputting a few more commands into her computer console before politely turning to face the smaller woman.

"One day, you’re going to tell me how you do that," Kathryn predicted with a smile.

Seven realized her heart rate had accelerated slightly as it always did in the captain’s presence. Making a note to speak with the Doctor about this phenomenon, she merely raised her cortical implant at the smaller woman’s continued silence.

Janeway realized she was staring into Seven’s eyes and pulled herself back to reality.

"As you know, we received a distress call from the Gintarans," she began.

"Yes. They are suffering a plague."

"Right. Well, it seems it’s your turn to lead the away mission. We’ll be having a briefing in the conference room in about an hour so you should familiarize yourself with everything we’ve learned up to the moment."

Kathryn hadn’t meant to be so abrupt in advising the young woman of the situation, but she seemed to lose some of her composure lately when dealing with Seven on a personal level. She found herself falling back on formality as a safety net.

"I will not comply."

"Good. See you in the conference room . . . What did you say?"

Seven placed her hands behind her back in her customary position before answering. She had a theory about Kathryn Janeway’s personal feelings and found the best way to elicit information she wanted was when the redhead was provoked. This was the perfect opportunity.

"I will not comply," she repeated. "This is a medical away mission, and I am not a physician. I would be happy to accompany the Doctor, but I am not qualified to take his place."

"The Doctor can’t go because of the scattering field, which I’m sure you already know since you’re the one who took the initial readings of the planet’s surface. You’ll only be taking samples for analysis."

Not one to be easily outmaneuvered, Seven countered coolly.

"Icheb is not fully capable of operating the Astrometrics department on his own. He is a child and not a senior officer. He cannot be placed in command of Starfleet personnel."

"Harry can fill in," Janeway returned, curious what Seven’s next argument would be.

To Janeway’s amazement, the gorgeous blonde actually turned slightly pink and lowered her gaze. Kathryn was unaware that they had reached the point in the discussion Seven had been aiming for, and the captain was the target.

"There is still the fact that you do not want me to go," Seven said softly, slowly looking up.

For a moment, Kathryn was lost in ice-blue depths. Seven couldn’t possibly be saying what she hoped. It was just her fantasy that the young woman could return her feelings and she wasn’t going to embarrass herself by admitting her infatuation. And an infatuation was all it was, Starfleet Captains did not fall in love.

"Of course I do," Kathryn sputtered, completely disoriented. "I came to inform you . . . "

"Commander Chakotay could have informed me, as is his duty as first officer. That you chose to inform me yourself indicates some level of discomfort with the decision. Additionally, your heart rate and respiration have increased by .3 percent."

Seven watched in fascination as a myriad of expressions mingled and collided on the captain’s face. She was unable to identify most of them, being estranged from her own emotions after eighteen years as a Borg drone. Finally, the classic features settled on an expression that Seven had become very familiar with, determination.

Kathryn squared her shoulders, miffed at being so transparent to the stoic Borg.

"You’re right. I am uncomfortable sending you down to a dangerous environment. As I would be sending down anyone to such a setting. As captain, it’s my job to inform any senior officer when they are assigned to such a mission. But it is your duty to comply." Although this wasn’t the complete truth, Janeway couldn’t admit how terrified she was at the thought of sending this woman down to a disease ridden planet.

The initial away team on any planet tended to have a higher overall casualty rate without sending them into a situation that they knew was dangerous. But Kathryn had no choice. She couldn’t let her personal feelings affect her command.

She had been wrong, Seven realized. The captain didn’t have special feelings for her and was treating her as she would treat any senior member. Strangely disappointed at the result of her little test, she felt the sudden need to prove she could be trusted with this responsibility.

"Very well, I will comply."

"If it makes you feel any better, I could accompany you," Kathryn offered.

"It would not be prudent for you to endanger yourself in such a manner. Voyager’s crew need their captain. I am expendable."

Janeway stepped close to Seven without realizing she had moved and placed her hand gently on the soft cheek, gazing deeply into curious eyes.

"Don’t ever say that. You are not expendable. Not to me."

An uncharacteristically glowing smile lit Seven’s face shedding the normally cool demeanor, and Kathryn felt her heart clinch in her chest, realizing how much the taller woman had lost by being taken by the Borg.

Seven watched as a tender look and shy answering smile lit her friend’s face. This particular expression rivaled even Omega and Seven wondered what she would do if she could never gaze on such light again.

*************************

Ten hours later, Seven and her team had returned to Voyager. The ship’s bio-filters had screened out any harmful pathogens during the transport and all data had been taken to sickbay for analysis.

The Doctor had concluded that the plague attached itself to a specific enzyme in the hippocampus and necrotized brain synapsis. This caused the aliens to suffer eventual brain damage and subsequently death. However, of Voyager’s crew, the enzyme in question was present only in Vulcan, Trill and Klingon.

Tuvok had been less than pleased when B’Elanna teased him about having a common ancestor.

A command post had been set up approximately one kilometer from the central city of Gintara Prime and pattern buffers had been erected to disperse the scattering field. Janeway had accompanied Seven and the medical team to the planet on the pretext of giving last minute instructions.

Voyager’s backup medic, Tom Paris took charge of setting up camp while the captain briefed the Borg.

Kathryn took a moment to look around before walking a short distance from the camp with her young friend in tow. It was always wise to take advantage of being planetside for a breath of fresh air. The sun shone brilliantly over head and a stream with crystal blue water gurgled nearby.

It was the stream that was Kathryn’s destination for their discussion. She didn’t really need to give any further instructions. She knew Seven understood the mission fully. The truth was she just wanted to spend a few more moments with the precious woman on a beautiful planet. She just wished it could be under different circumstances.

The warm summer-like day on Gintara Prime was reminiscent of the summer days Janeway had spent growing up on the farm in Indiana. It left her feeling mischievous and full of energy. Her younger sister, Phoebe, would have described it as "frisky."

Feeling the need to provoke her young friend, Kathryn turned and said, "So, Seven, how does all this fresh air make you feel? Quite an improvement over the stale air of a starship, don’t you think?"

"I fail to see the human fascination with exposure to ultraviolet radiation or naturally occurring flora and fauna," Seven answered haughtily. "I prefer the environmentally controlled atmosphere of Voyager to a sunburn or insect bite."

Kathryn stood dumbfounded for a moment, suddenly realizing how much the ex-Borg needed to relax. The nearby stream seemed the perfect venue since they were standing right at the water’s edge.

"You’re right, Seven. You have had too much exposure to the sun, and I know just how to cool you off."

With a grin, Kathryn reached to grab the collar of Seven’s bio-suit. The blonde’s eyes widened with surprise as she realized at the last second what her captain intended.

A Borg enhanced hand grabbed hold of Janeway’s wrist just as the smaller woman heaved with all her strength. Seven went head first into the water just as Kathryn pictured. What she hadn’t pictured was accompanying the Borg on her unexpected flight, but the cybernetic appendage was absolute in its grasp on the captain’s arm.

The two came up sputtering, with a look of astonishment on their faces. They eyed each other in stunned silence for a moment before Kathryn suddenly began to laugh. She was laughing so hard at the surprised look on Seven’s drenched countenance that her stomach began to ache and tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes.

Affected by Kathryn’s merriment, a smile slowly graced Seven’s full lips. It wasn’t a particularly large smile, but it made the normally aloof blond appear radiant. When a single laugh abruptly escaped from Seven, Janeway’s laughter slowly died.

Kathryn was mesmerized by the sight of the woman before her.

With the implants hidden, it appeared as though the assimilation by the Borg had never occurred. Blonde hair hung in a wet tangle around slender shoulders and the sweet smile made Seven appear as beautiful as a goddess.

Kathryn felt herself drawn helplessly to the pale vision before her. Leaning forward, almost against her will, like a moth drawn to a flame.

Seven was entranced by the captain’s laughter. It was irrelevant that she was sitting in cold water up to her shoulders, all she could focus on was her friend laughing happily in front of her.

Then something changed. Captain Janeway was staring at her with an expression Seven couldn’t begin to fathom. The smile faded from the classic features and Seven felt entranced as she watched blue-gray eyes darken to the color of smoke. The captain leaned toward her slowly as though giving her time to flee, but Seven was captivated.

Her eyes closed as soft lips brushed gently against her own. Once, twice, almost a whisper...

Slender arms embraced the smaller frame of their own volition, pulling the compact woman against soft, full breasts.

Seven felt the captain’s tongue pushed past her teeth, beginning a dance with her own tongue and Seven couldn’t prevent a moan of sharp arousal. They were devouring each other in earnest. Clutching each other close, desperate for this embrace that had taken so long to be achieved.

Seven suddenly realized the captain had been hailed several times over her comm badge. Reluctantly she pulled away from the delicious red lips, garnering a look of confusion from Kathryn.

"You are being hailed," Seven said in a surprisingly husky voice.

Kathryn blinked as the voice of Voyager’s EMH came over her comm badge, again.

"Captain, are you all right? This is the doctor, please respond!"

"Janeway here, doctor, Go ahead," Kathryn said softly, staring into Seven’s icy blue eyes.

"It’s about time," The EMH said. "I was about to send security to find you. Are you sure you’re all right? You sound . . . funny."

"Did you need something?" Janeway asked, encouraging him to get to the point.

"Yes. I wanted to inform you that I have synthesized a vaccine. I will have it ready to administer within the hour."

"Good work, doctor. I’ll join you shortly. Janeway out,"

Kathryn gently stroked a pale cheek with the back of her hand, unaccountably grateful that Seven’s strong arms had remained around her during the brief conversation.

"We have to get back to the ship," Kathryn said gently.

"Yes," Seven agreed a breath away from the lips that held her attention.

Just as they would have kissed again, Kathryn turned her face and snuggled against Seven’s soft neck.

"I’m sorry," she murmured. "We have to go."

Abruptly she pulled away, dropping her arms to her sides and leaving Seven suddenly chilled.

Chapter 2

Seven had thought assimilation by the Borg was swift. Here she was, standing in the middle of an open field two hours after the eye-opening kiss with Captain Janeway.

The captain’s sudden shift from intimacy to professionalism had been extremely perplexing to the younger woman.

Again, she replayed the details of the last few hours in her mind.

"Voyager, two to beam to the Captain’s Quarters," Janeway barked roughly.

Janeway had requested a site to site transport to her personal quarters for herself and Seven of Nine to avoid the embarrassment of being seen soaking wet with a member of her crew. She would just have to live with the speculation as to why she would beam to her quarters with Seven in tow.

"Captain,"

Seven was interrupted as the two suddenly dematerialized in a shower of sparkles only to re-emerge in the middle of Janeway’s living quarters.

"I don’t want to talk about it, Seven," Kathryn said, stalking to the replicator while dripping all over the carpeting.

"You are being unreasonable," came the clipped Borg monotone that let Kathryn know she had hurt Seven’s feelings.

Not everyone would have heard it, but Kathryn knew Seven better than anyone else did. And her heart responded unerringly to the inflection in the beloved voice.

Unaccountably, that fact coupled with her guilt only made Kathryn angry.

"Don’t tell me how I’m being," Janeway said tersely, after ordering a cup of coffee to chase the chill from her body. "What happened on the planet was a mistake. I shouldn’t have allowed it to happen."

Seven couldn’t believe this. The most courageous woman she had ever met, the person who could face down the Borg and species 8472 couldn’t even admit to the real reason behind a simple kiss?

Even Seven could see there was more to it. And that was just from her observations of Lieutenants Torres and Paris.

"Captain...Kathryn," Seven pleaded softly, "Do you deny your feelings for me?"

Exasperated, Janeway raked her fingers through her hair, searching desperately for a way out of this uncomfortable position, not even noticing Seven had called her by name.

"Seven, listen to me. I am a Starship Captain and you are a member of my crew. I cannot be involved with you."

"You are using protocol as a means of avoiding an interpersonal relationship," Seven argued.

"You damn right!" Janeway said, finally losing patience. "But if you won’t accept that, how’s this for a reason? What happened on the planet was a mistake. I allowed six years of loneliness to get to me."

"Are you saying you don’t care for me?" Seven asked in a strangely trembling voice.

This was going all wrong and Kathryn knew it, but what choice did she have? Admit that she had a crush on a Borg that didn’t know if she even had feelings, or steadfastly refuse to be drawn into something that could only end up hurting both of them in the long run.

Faced with the only two choices she could see, Janeway knew what her decision had to be. As much as it might hurt right now to utter the lie, it was for the best. Even if it condemned her to a lifetime of loneliness.

"Seven," she said again in a gentler tone. "Of course I care about you. You’re my friend. Perhaps that’s why I felt comfortable enough to kiss you. I’m sorry, but that’s all there is. That’s all there can be."

Amazingly, blue eyes filled with tears, and Kathryn felt she could have cut her own heart out with a dull knife for the pain she was inflicting.

"You are a coward!" Seven said vehemently, striding swiftly for the exit.

"Where are you going?" Kathryn asked urgently.

"Cargo bay two," Seven answered without stopping.

"I forbid it!"

The ex-drone froze in surprise, turning slowly back toward the diminutive captain.

"You forbid?" she asked incredulously.

"I’m still the captain, and I’m giving you a direct order. You can use my shower and replicate a fresh garment."

Kathryn gestured toward Seven, indicating her wet hair and sodden clothing. Also, the young woman might have been part Borg, but her human physiology had reasserted itself enough that the cold water was constricting the capillaries in her nipples, causing them to push forward in a quite intriguing manner.

"You wish only to avoid your own embarrassment," Seven stated. "You do not care for my well-being and wish only to avoid speculation."

Janeway was concerned with the lanky woman’s well-being, but had to admit Seven was right about her primary motivation. As a result all she could say was, "What’s wrong with that?"

Seven stared at the compact woman in disbelief. She had always looked up to the captain. Suddenly, she was beginning to wonder why.

She turned on her heel and left Janeway with her mouth hanging open. From there, time seemed to speed up.

The away team had been immediately ordered to transport onto the planet armed with enough of the antidote to treat the entire population, if they could be reached in time.

Voyager had immediately set a course for a nearby planetoid that was rich in mineral deposits.

Janeway had apologized to Seven profusely, saying she wouldn’t normally leave an away team on a planet if Voyager’s systems weren’t so critically low. But Voyager would be close by, only out of range for twenty four hours at the most. Besides, the landing party was immune from the effects of the plague, and things seemed under control.

Kathryn would not admit she was running away from her feelings for her protégée.

The next thing she knew, Seven had materialized on the surface of Gintara feeling strangely numb. She had determinedly pushed thoughts of the captain to the back of her mind and set about accomplishing her mission.

She knew their objective could be accomplished fairly quickly, and then she could concentrate on pinning Janeway down about what had occurred between them. She may have been Borg for eighteen years, but her research on human intimacy had given her some insight on what might be happening between herself and the older woman.

Seven hoped she was correct.

She knew human sometimes acted without thinking about the consequences and she couldn’t bear to think that’s what had occurred with the captain.

Focusing on the task at hand, she briefly considered assigning the members of her team Borg designations for greater efficiency, but one look at Lt. Paris’ face was enough to convince her otherwise.

The rescue team included five members. Seven of Nine was the team leader. Under her command was Lt. Ayala, Tom Paris, Samantha Wildman, and Neelix.

Lt. Ayala was second in command of security on Voyager and was taking Tuvok’s place on the detail since the Vulcan would have been affected by the plague. He would do his utmost to ensure the safety of all the members of the team and the planet’s population.

Paris had been extensively trained by the Emergency Medical Hologram, and although he couldn’t hope to replace the holo-doc he possessed impressive medical knowledge that prove invaluable.

Samantha Wildman was irreplaceable in bio-genetics and possessed a compassionate heart that would greatly assist in comforting the plague victims until the antidote could be administered.

Also possessing a compassionate heart and willingness to place other’s well-being over his own was Neelix, the ship’s self-appointed moral officer. His ability to help others feel at ease and communicate with species that seemed almost impossible to relate to was uncanny.

Overall, Seven was quite pleased with her accompanying crewmembers, but decided she didn’t want to have her people exposed for an indefinite period of time to this plague. It might not appear contagious, but there was no telling what prolonged exposure would do.

She quickly scanned the area with a tricorder, determining the fastest route to the central city.

"We will walk to Gintara Prime and meet with the chancellor," she said, in a condescending tone that made Tom’s hair stand on end. "Once there, he will inform us where to begin vaccinating these individuals."

"Yes, ma’am," Paris said sarcastically.

Great, he thought, not only was he deserted by Voyager on a deadly planet, but the Ice Queen was in charge. What a great start to another perfect day in the Delta Quadrant.

Chapter 3

"This is very... um...um..."

"Weird," Tom Paris supplied for his stuttering Talaxian friend.

"Exactly," Neelix affirmed.

Seven could have reminded the two that their conversation was not only irrelevant but nonsensical, however she was drawing comfort from hearing their voices. Not that she would admit it.

Since entering the city they hadn’t seen a soul. The small group of crewmembers had wandered street by street in search of plague victims, but they seemed to have vanished.

A stale wind swept past, carrying litter and debris. Sand swirled briefly in a small dust tunnel before dancing away.

"The medical center should be at the end of this corridor according to Chancellor Valkrak," Samantha Wildman said softly.

Seven was using a modified tricorder to continuously scan in every direction. The medical instrument had been enhanced to scan for the Gintarans through the planet’s scattering, but so far, had detected nothing.

"Maybe they left," Paris said, "Oh, well, We tried. Time to head back," he said with a note of hope.

"Mr. Paris, control your fear," Seven ordered disdainfully.

The young woman was suddenly distracted by an intermittent beep.

After two uneventful hours, she hadn’t really expected to find anything. Shaking her head derisively, she realized she had been among humans too long.

As a Borg, she never would have questioned how long it took to accomplish her objective. She would have accepted failure or success, equally, with no emotional reaction to either.

Now, adrenaline surged sharply through her veins.

"What is it?" Neelix asked anxiously.

"I am detecting life forms," she answered. "Thirty eight to be exact, The signal is emanating from twenty meters ahead."

Seven was relieved to see the signal was indeed coming from the medical center. If they had only been able to locate the building sooner they would have been well on their way to completing their task. She would be glad to finish and return to Voyager.

She had a certain captain to target. She knew Captain Janeway definitely had feelings for her. Seven had only to find the key to getting the other woman to open up to her and admit they were perfect for each other. Nothing could prevent it. In time, the other woman would acknowledge that fact.

Although not fond of the idea, perhaps the Doctor could advise her how to proceed properly. He had been giving her social lessons, even if he had left out little details along the way.

Details like same-sex pairings. Seven hadn’t even realized that was an option open to her until she stumbled on two female ensigns kissing in a jeffries tube when she had gone to make some minor repairs.

Witnessing their interaction had opened up a whole new vista for the young woman.

"Seven? You coming?" Neelix asked, prodding her gently.

"Maybe she’s regenerating," Tom snorted.

"That’s not very nice, Lieutenant."

Rubbing the sore spot on his arm where she had punched him, Paris looked at Samantha in disbelief.

"Ow! What’s the matter? Can’t you take a joke?" he sulked.

"I suggest we drop the banter and get on with it," Lieutenant Ayala said, speaking for the first time. "I’ll lead."

"Unacceptable," Seven interjected. "It would be more prudent if you brought up the rear. I have the tricorder and am capable of following the signal. We are in a narrow alley way and are more vulnerable to an attack from the rear."

Ayala considered her suggestion silently for a moment. Her reasoning was sound, but he knew the stoic Vulcan security chief would have something to say if anything happened to the former drone.

Even if Tuvok wouldn’t admit it, Ayala knew he regarded the young woman almost like a daughter.

"Come on, Ayala," Paris prompted. "The Borg Queen has spoken, get a move on, will ya? I don’t want to be on this dirt ball any longer than I have to."

Neelix shook his head at Paris’ behavior. It seemed like the only "dirt ball" on the planet was voyager’s helmsman.

Silently, Ayala took up position in the rear and the small band continued slowly down the tight alley.

Slowly, they approached the heavy metal doors. The building resembled an old style warehouse and Seven couldn’t understand how this could be a medical center.

There was no smell of antiseptic usually associated with a hospital. Nevertheless, the coordinates of the structure coincided with the directions given before beaming down, and the tricorder readings indicating life signs told her this was the right place.

Placing her hand upon the knob, Seven was struck by a sense of foreboding. Shrugging it off, ignoring the fear causing her heart to jack-hammer against her ribs, she turned the knob.

Creaking like an ancient tomb that had never been unsealed, the door swung heavily inward to reveal....

Nothing.

The doorway opened directly into a central chamber. The room was circular, high and cavernous with no one in sight. Closed doors ringed the chamber and were unremarkable except for a large pair of double doors boasting large carvings of a winged creature that seemed to breathe fire.

Hardly what one would consider a medical symbol, Neelix thought.

"See?" Tom said scathingly. "I told you there was nothing here."

"As usual, you are incorrect," the blonde Borg calmly informed him. "The life signs are emanating from behind the far bulkhead," she said, indicating a closed set of double doors.

"Perhaps they’re too weak to move around." Neelix suggested reasonably.

"Perhaps," she said slowly, a frown marring her brow.

"Something’s not right," Samantha said with a trace of fear in her voice. "If this is a hospital, where is the staff? Even if the patients are too ill to be moving around, someone should be operating this place."

"I concur," Seven said, drawing her hand phaser from her side.

Paris snorted at the young woman’s caution. It would figure she would want to shoot first and ask questions later. He knew the captain had made a mistake putting a Borg in charge, when he should have been the one to lead the team. He had more experience than Seven and would have handled things differently. In fact, if he had been in charge they already would have been back on Voyager.

He was looking forward to finishing his new holo-program, The Slave Girls of Rigel.

"What are you gonna do, Annie Oakley? Shoot the plague victims?"

No one answered as they followed Seven’s example and drew their hand weapons, ensuring they were on the stun setting.

Seven cautiously advanced toward the center doors. As quietly as possible in her high heeled shoes, she crossed the large room, not for the first time wishing the Doctor has designed more appropriate footwear.

Keeping her phaser trained on the doors, she slowly reached forward with her Borg-enhanced hand and grasped the handle. Just as the latch clicked, Seven felt the heavy doors being pushed forcefully toward her.

Simultaneously, the other doors swung open and a multitude of humanoids swarmed over Voyager’s small crew. Suddenly engulfed in a sea of humanity, they never had a chance to fire a shot. Fighting only to retreat from the building, they lost sight of each other. Only Lieutenant Ayala’s shout over the din coming from the aliens helped orient the frightened team.

"Get outside, we have to get away from them! Neelix! Come this way."

The Gintaran’s seemed drawn to the shout from Voyager’s security officer and shifted in his direction, leaving an unexpected avenue of escape for Seven and Paris. They both headed toward a doorway that had remained closed during the chaos. A quick sweep of the tricorder revealed no one hiding behind the hatch.

Paris sprinted for the exit, unmindful of his associates behind him, his own safety of primary concern. Reaching the doorway, he was disappointed to find it locked.

A security access panel on the wall seemed the only means of ingress. He didn’t know the proper code, but he was good at figuring out puzzles. Using the commotion behind him, he ripped the cover off the control panel and began crossing wires.

Seven ran toward the exit. When she no longer felt the press of bodies, she turned and began firing her phaser into the crowd. Carefully, she targeted the Gintaran’s, creating an avenue of escape for the other members of her team.

"Ensign Wildman!" she shouted, spotting Samantha blocking a blow by a scrawny woman. "This way! Neelix, over here!"

Fighting and scraping, the others made their escape toward the doorway with the Gintaran’s in slow, though steady pursuit. Just as they approached the door, Paris managed to cross the correct wires and it quickly swished open.

As they ducked inside, Seven struck the inside control panel, closing the door and effectively shutting out the chaos.

The panting of their breath was extremely loud in the sudden relative calm.

"They looked like zombies," Tom said.

"Zombies?" Seven asked, uncomprehending.

"You know, like in Night of the Living Dead", he ventured.

Seven hadn’t seen the film in question, but couldn’t deny the accuracy of describing them as the ‘living dead’. The Gintarans had been ghostly pale with dark circles beneath their eyes. Even the single horn in the center of their armored forehead had looked pale. They hadn’t spoken, other than loud piteous moaning, and their wide eyes hadn’t blinked.

"I suggest we find a way out," Ayala said. "This door isn’t going to hold them long."

"Agreed., Seven said.

Neelix had been scouting the room as soon as they entered.

"There’s a back exit over here. No life signs on the other side, I’m just reading a long hallway with a lot of electronics," he said, helpfully.

Seven walked over, prepared to lead the way again.

"Not this time," Ayala said, stopping Seven with a hand on her bicep.

Seeing her cortical implant raised questioningly, he said, "Before we didn’t know there was any danger. Now we do,"

So saying, he stepped in front of her and opened the door cautiously. No one was in sight and the five refugees made their way down the corridor. It lead to a small room with only one window. The window was raised high on the wall.

As soon as they entered the room, an image shimmered into sight in the center. It was a Gintaran hologram.

"Welcome. If you are seeing this image, then you know the worst. The plague has proved impossible to contain. Anyone exposed becomes instantly infected. All remaining healthy persons have evacuated to the central city of Gisa."

A map of the area suddenly replaced the hologram, indicating were the city was located. The disembodied voice continued in its monologue uninterrupted.

"If you can reach the city, a plan is in effect to deploy a neutralizing agent into the atmosphere. If effective it should successfully treat all Gintarans. We are seeking the assistance of anyone capable. Our numbers have been decimated by this disease and we desperately need help."

The hologram disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared, rendering no really useful information.

"And just how are we supposed to get there?" Paris whined. "That’s at least five kilometers away, and we’d never even get out of the building with all those freaks out there."

"We will climb out the window," Seven said indicating the impossibly high exit, "and then we shall walk."

Tom laughed aloud at her audacity while the others gaped at her in astonishment.

"Hello, how are you going to get up there? Jump?" he asked derisively.

"I am Borg," she said evenly. "My legs have been enhanced with Borg implants. They render greater strength and agility to my limbs. I can make the jump."

The young woman walked toward the window followed by everyone except Paris. She had saved their lives on countless other occasions, and if she said she could do it, they believed her.

Seven handed her tricorder and phaser to Samantha and turned to contemplate the escape. Bars lined the window, preventing unauthorized entry into the room. In this case, the bars would prove useful for a handhold.

Slowly, she bent at the knees preparing to leap four meters into the air. Uncoiling strongly, her powerful legs propelled her unerringly toward the window. There was a shaky second when her heels slipped on the sill, then her hands closed around the bars and she pulled herself to safety.

"Yes," Neelix enthused, "I knew you could do it," he said, happily making his way over to the wall.

Seven grasped the bar firmly, in her meshed hand. The metal alloy snapped like dry kindling, and she used it to shatter the glass outward toward the street. One by one, the other bars followed suit until the opening was large enough for them to escape through.

Ayala cupped his hands and strained under Neelix’s Talaxian weight as he assisted the moral officer toward Seven. She grasped his stubby hands and hauled him unceremoniously toward her.

Heart thundering he held on desperately to the window frame.

"Mr. Neelix, I will lower you to the sidewalk as far as I can. You will have to drop the last few meters to the ground. Can you do this?" As he hesitated, she continued, "Or must I drop to the sidewalk and catch you?"

Neelix’s eyes went wide with shock as he contemplated the picture in his mind.

"It was a joke," she said, with a glint of humor in her eyes.

He chuckled slightly at her unexpected humor. She was certainly becoming more human all the time.

"Of course, of course. Yes, I can make the drop. Talaxians are very strong, not as strong as you maybe, but..."

"Neelix," Tom groaned. "Just do it, will ya?"

"Yes, yes, of course,"

Seven grasped the Talaxian’s hands as he swung his legs over the outside. Inching slowly to his abdomen he leaned over the sill, trusting the ex-drone to hold his weight. She lowered him as far as she could, straining against his dense musculature. When she was leaning completely over the sill, she stopped.

"You will have to drop from here. Can you make it?"

Glancing down, Neelix gulped as he realized there was still quite a fall, but he knew the others were depending on him.

"Yes, let go."

He hit the ground with a thud, landing feet first and then falling on his rear.

"I’m okay," he said, quickly standing up and brushing himself off. "Help the others."

Samantha Wildman and then Tom Paris went next. Ayala, following up the rear had to stack up equipment in the room to stand on. Even then he had to leap into the air as far as possible to catch Seven’s outstretched hand.

Soon, they were all standing on the sidewalk. As they ducked into the shadows of the building a group of Gintarans shuffled sluggishly by them.

After the ensemble passed, Paris said, "Hey, didn’t we pass a garage of some sort on the way here? I remember seeing some archaic type of land vehicles and was hoping we would get a chance to check them out before we left."

"For once, Paris, it looks like your obsessions may have come in handy," Ayala said. "I remember seeing the vehicles, too. I think they were only a couple of streets over."

"That’s fine," Samantha said, "but how are we going to get to Gisa? We don’t have the map."

"You forget, Ensign. I possess an eidetic memory," Seven said. "I suggest we move quickly," she added as another group of plague victims passed the mouth of the alley.

Although she sounded calm, the young woman was very scared. She had told the Captain she was unfit to lead this mission, and worried that Janeway would never forgive her if anything happened to a member of her crew. She knew how deeply the loss of a crewmember would affect the captain. But it would affect Kathryn, the woman, even more deeply.

The captain had placed her faith in the young woman and Seven didn’t want to disappoint her. But for Kathryn, Seven would sacrifice herself without thought to save the team.

They found the garage with little difficulty and with only a few minor difficulties managed to start one of the land based vehicles. It operated much like the old-Earth automobiles and Tom was soon in the driver’s seat, raring to go.

At Ayala’s insistence they had waited for the cover of night to make their escape from the city. With Seven riding shotgun, they drove slowly toward Gisa.

The country roads were severely neglected, and heavily rutted causing the small vehicle to bounce erratically over the terrain. Paris had a hard time keeping them to the center of the roadway, and Neelix forced himself not to grunt from the pounding he was taking.

Fortunately, the vehicle didn’t have a top so they didn’t have to worry about pounding their skulls against the roof. The fresh night air was welcome on their sweaty faces, but it did nothing to improve Tom’s driving visibility.

The windshield was dirty and boasted a spider web of cracks, casting the weak headlights into prisms across the glass. Paris squinted in an effort to see more clearly.

"You are going too fast, Mr. Paris," Seven informed him, holding on to the door jamb to try and stabilize herself. "This terrain is too uneven..."

"Aw, quit complaining. I know what I’m doing." Already forgetting her, he squinted into the distance. What was that? Was there something on the road?

Tom slammed on the brakes as he realized a group of Gintarans were standing across the roadway forming a road block of humanity.

The small vehicle skidded over the rocky surface and bounced heavily as it hit an unusually large pot hole. Flying out of control, the car rolled unsteadily on two wheels, heeling over dangerously to the left. When the front tire struck the boulder, it performed an impressive flip in defiance of gravity.

Neelix, Paris and Wildman were ejected immediately from the vehicle, landing heavily in the brush on the road side.

Ayala held on to the door handle and dug his fingers under the driver’s seat, knowing an ejection from a moving vehicle nearly always proved fatal. He wedged his legs under the seat and ducked down into the floor as low as possible as the car flipped end over end. The sudden screaming made his hair stand on end and a cold sweat broke out over his body.

When the cartwheeling began, Seven grasped the top of the windshield with her Borg hand and the door handle with her human hand. The front of the vehicle smashed into the ground and she felt her left hand crushed between the car and the tundra.

Not even hearing the scream from her own throat, she was suddenly flying free of the small vessel, crashing to the ground just before a ton of metal landed square on her slender frame.

As the darkness engulfed her, she realized her last wish would have been to kiss Kathryn just once more, and tell her she loved her.

Chapter 4

"Come in."

The doors obediently slid open, allowing Voyager’s first officer access into the Captain’s ready room.

Expecting the chair behind her desk to be occupied, Chakotay stopped with a look of confusion on his handsome face.

Turning, he spotted the diminutive woman on the upper level, staring pensively into space.

"Captain?"

Walking away from the windows, she sat on the sofa and pulled a lukewarm cup of coffee toward her.

As though suddenly remembering she had company, Kathryn glanced up and chuckled in embarrassment.

"I’m sorry, Chakotay. What can I do for you?"

The journey to the asteroid belt had taken ten hours and the mining operation had been going on for another four. Janeway had refused to rest during that time, and he assumed she was tired.

With a smile of understanding, he ascended the stairs and sat in the armchair to the captain’s right, focusing on the task at hand.

"The engineering team is having difficulty mining the dilithium. They’ve encountered a gamacite mantel and the torches are having trouble cutting through."

"Options?" she asked disinterestedly, staring intently at the surface of the glass coffee table.

Pursing his lips in thought for a moment, he finally responded.

"Harry suggested dancing nude on the drilling platform, and then B’Elanna took off her environmental suit and stood on her head."

"Hmmm.... that’s nice."

She jumped in surprise when his large hand covered her own.

"Kathryn, what is it? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said."

Just as she would have denied anything was wrong, she stopped herself. He was her friend, wasn’t he? If she couldn’t talk to him, then who? And she desperately needed to talk to someone. Perhaps she just needed an objective opinion, But as much as she longed to talk to him, she was still the captain. She had an obligation to hold herself apart from the rest of the crew.

Telling him about her doubts and fears concerning the ship and crew was one thing. Telling him about having a crush on a subordinate was something else.

"Does this concern Seven of Nine?" he finally prompted.

Glancing up quickly, she met his concerned gaze.

"Am I that obvious?" she asked softly.

"Kathryn, there’s nothing wrong with having feelings for someone," he advised.

"It’s not that simple," she said, rising to her feet in frustration.

"Why not?" he asked. Quickly raising his hand, he forestalled her outburst.

"And don’t give me the standard dissertation about the Captain not getting involved with a member of her crew. Things are a little different on Voyager."

"Why, because we’re not in hailing range of Starfleet?" she asked angrily.

"Yes!" he stated standing abruptly, and facing her with fire flashing in his normally sedate eyes. Normally, he wouldn’t speak to her in such a manner, but this was too important to simply sit still and not try to reason with her. "Kathryn, you’re my friend. Your happiness is important to me. If you’ve got a chance of finding that happiness by being involved with Seven, then I don’t want to see you miss that opportunity."

"And how do you think the rest of the crew will feel about that?" she asked softly, feeling she already knew the answer.

"There will be some who don’t think the Captain should become involved with anyone. But, others will understand that you’re human, and you have emotional needs just like anyone else. One thing I know for sure," he said strongly, "this crew loves and respects you. Ultimately, they all want to see you happy."

Silently, Kathryn leaned against the window sill, resting her weight on the palms of her hands.

"Chakotay, do you remember what I told you after I received that letter from Mark?"

"Your ex-fiancé?" he asked, not following her train of thought.

"Remember when I said I had been using him as a life line...to avoid becoming involved with someone else?"

"You were talking about Seven, weren’t you?" he asked sadly.

Somehow, he had always nurtured the secret hope that she had been referring to him. Seven had only been on board a short time, and it had never occurred to him that Kathryn had developed feelings for the young woman so quickly.

"Ironic, isn’t it?" she asked, unaware of the silent struggle taking place within her friend. "Me, pining after someone almost twenty years my junior, and a female at that?"

Shaking his head, he said, "I fail to see what age or gender has to do with it. This isn’t the 21^st century anymore, Kathryn. I guess the real question is, does she feel the same way about you?"

Kathryn sat back down, pulling her now cold coffee toward her before pushing it away, again.

"She says she loves me," she said simply, looking into Chakotay’s compassionate eyes.

"Then what’s the problem? For once, put aside your stubbornness and embrace this opportunity for...Kathryn, what is it?"

Janeway’s eyes suddenly went wide and the blood drained from her face, leaving her deathly pale.

"Something’s wrong," she said, standing quickly. "Janeway to the bridge, report!"

Tuvok’s stoic Vulcan voice responded. "All systems optimal, Captain. The away team has transported approximately seventy point three kilotons of dilithium ore to cargo bay four."

"Acknowledged," she responded, closing the channel before turning back to her worried first officer. "Don’t ask me how I know it, Chakotay, but something’s wrong with the away team on Gintara. We have to get back there," she stated, striding purposefully for the bridge.

The burly Native American didn’t question her. Janeway’s intuition had saved lives on countless occasions.

"B’Elanna, cease mining activities immediately and return to Voyager," he ordered tensely.

"S..ss..sir?" she stammered.

"You have a problem with your hearing, lieutenant? On the double," he returned.

"Yes, sir. On my way,"

A few moments later Harry Kim, Voyager’s operations officer, advised the captain that all away team personnel were back on board.

"Ensign Kaplan, set a course for Gintara and engage at warp eight," Kathryn ordered the young brunette filling in at the helm in Tom Paris’ absence. "B’Elanna, keep those engines up and running."

"Aye, Captain," she responded smartly.

Kathryn glanced at Harry and he answered her unspoken question. "At this speed, we should reach Gintara Prime in approximately six point two hours."

As Voyager raced through the night, Kathryn couldn’t shake the feeling that they were already too late.

Seven, she thought desperately, please be alright.

Chapter 5

"Uungh," Neelix groaned, opening his eyes slowly.

The darkness was absolute, so much so that for a moment he thought he was blind. The sound of the sudden struggle erupting twenty meters away drew his attention, and he realized two things...The first was that he wasn’t blind, it was simply the dead of night. The second was that in the flickering torch light, the Gintaran mob was taking Samantha Wildman into custody.

She was fighting desperately, but to no avail. There were simply too many of them.

Neelix struggled to his feet, gasping at the pain lancing through his left arm and shoulder.

"Get away from her!"

The words came out as barely a croak, certainly failing to carry to the crowd.

Staggering toward the ensemble, he was overcome by a wave of dizziness that forced him to his knees. Trying to shake it off, he again forced his trembling lets to support his weight.

"Don’t!" came the hushed demand.

Paris grasped Neelix’s arm to prevent him from interfering. Placing his hand over the Talaxian’s mouth, he prevented Neelix from speaking aloud and attracting unwanted attention.

"They’ll take us all! We’ll rescue her later, but right now we need to find the others and regroup," he whispered.

Realizing the validity of the argument, Neelix squatted beside Paris in the shadowed brush. They didn’t have long to wait. Ensign Wildman was dragged into the night, and Neelix made a silent vow to Naomi that he would return her mother safely.

When they were gone, Paris and Neelix carefully made their way to the overturned vehicle.

Paris called for Ayala and Seven repeatedly with no response. Just as they were about to give up, a groan sounded from under the wreckage.

"Ayala!" Neelix called. "Are you alright?"

The men put their shoulders against the metal and pushed, succeeding only in rocking it back and forth. Neelix grunted at the pain in his shoulder.

"Ow, be careful!" said Ayala. "You almost got my hand."

"It’s too heavy. We’re going to have to find something to lever it off," Neelix told him.

Looking around, Tom found a stout tree branch. He wedged it under the door frame and he and Neelix pushed down, lifting the car.

Ayala crawled out and in the dim light Paris could see the blood dripping off his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked with apparent concern.

"It’s just a scratch. Did you find Seven of Nine?"

All three began to search frantically for the former drone.

"Over here!" Ayala shouted.

Seven lay in an unmoving heap on the cold, rocky ground.

Paris spared a brief, discouraged look with the security officer before squatting to check for life signs.

From a glance, anyone could see her body was twisted and broken. Her bio-suit was torn and bloody, and her hair hung loose, obscuring her features.

Neelix said a small prayer for the stalwart young woman, but none of them held out much hope for her chances of survival.

"Anyone have a tricorder?" Paris asked, explaining that he had lost his in the crash as Neelix handed over the instrument.

Bracing himself for the worst, Paris brushed Seven’s hair aside and began scanning her.

"Well?" Neelix prompted, unable to wait.

Paris wiped the blood off on his trousers before answering.

"She’s alive...barely. Multiple fractures, lacerations and contusions. Fractured skull, and internal bleeding, Basically, her limbs have been crushed."

"What are you saying? You can treat her right?" Neelix asked with a frown.

"Look," Tom said, standing abruptly, "she’s hurt bad, and I can’t treat her. I don’t even have a med-kit!"

The Talaxian gaped at Voyager’s helmsman in disbelief. Finally finding his voice he said...

"You’re suggesting we leave her behind, aren’t you?"

"What?"

"Look," Paris said, cutting off the Talaxian and the outraged security officer, "we can’t help her. I’m not sure I could help her even if we had a med-kit. There’s just too much damage."

"We’re not leaving her behind," Ayala stated adamantly.

Tom was incredulous that these two couldn’t see what they had to do.

"If we don’t leave her, these side-show freaks are gonna grab us, too. Now, I say we forget going to Gisa and head back to the beam out site."

"So, you’re not only willing to leave Seven, but Ensign Wildman as well. What’s the matter with you, Tom?"

Neelix had never seen the fair-haired helmsman act with such blatant cowardice before. Perhaps he had been wrong all along, and Tom could only be magnanimous to others when he had the strength of Voyager to fall back on.

"We’re taking her with us," Ayala stated. "We find Wildman and head for Gisa. We leave no one behind, and these people still need help."

"I hate to disappoint you, lieutenant," Paris said, dusting his hand off with a sly grin curling his mouth, "But I’m a senior officer and I am ordering both of you to return to the beam out site with me. Let Voyager handle this mess."

An outraged Ayala stepped forward and grabbed Paris by the collar, pulling the smaller man nose to nose with him.

"Now pay attention, fly-boy," he said in a dangerously low tone. "You are a senior bridge officer. I am second in charge of security, and I don’t see a helm console anywhere around. You will follow my orders, or we will settle this the Maquis way. Are we clear?"

The look in his eye and his tone dared Paris to tempt him. Finally, Tom looked away in defeat. Ayala shook him once more for good measure before pushing him away.

Undoubtedly, Paris would try to get back at him once they were back on the ship, but Ayala couldn’t worry about that. Right now, he had a job to do.

*******

She felt as though she were struggling through a dense layer of molasses. Struggling valiantly to rise through the thick, vaporous fog that held her in the darkness, Seven fought to emerge. She could feel the nanoprobes flooding her system, attempting to repair the damaged drone. The pain hadn’t hit her, yet. It would have been inefficient for a damaged Borg to surrender to pain in the time it took for them to be repaired, so the nanoprobes prevented them from feeling it. But she knew that as someone mostly restored to her humanity, she would eventually feel it. This was only a temporary respite.

She could hear everything going on around her, and sensed the tension in the air, but she couldn’t open her eyes or speak. To all outward appearances, she probably resembled someone in a deep coma. It was, in fact, similar to her regeneration cycle.

The young woman was relieved when Lieutenant Ayala informed Paris that she would not be left behind.

Paris was not being himself, and she wondered at his bizarre behavior.

Ayala was directing the other two men to turn the car right side up to see if it could be repaired, explaining that with Seven’s Borg implants none of them would be able to carry her.

"It wouldn’t be an issue if we left her here," Paris said scathingly.

A sudden thump was heard, and Seven deduced Ayala had slammed Tom against the car when she heard him say, "Say anything else, Paris, and I’ll break your arm. If you want to go on your own, fine. No one is forcing you to stay. But I won’t listen to your comments anymore. You’ve been out for number one since this started and as far as I’m concerned, you’re a liability. Be happy this isn’t the Maquis, because I would have terminated you a long time ago."

Perusing her eidetic memory, Seven realized it was customary in some military organizations, when someone became a liability to the unit's mission or personnel, they were executed for the safety of the remaining members.

Sometime later, the vehicle was righted and Tom had instituted enough repairs on the engine, that the battered vehicle could resume the journey.

The headlights were busted, the windshield was gone, the frame was crumpled and bent. Undoubtedly, the vehicle would pull heavily to one side or the other, but the tires were still mostly inflated and the engine ran. All in all, they were pretty lucky.

Seven felt herself being lifted gently. Someone had her grasped firmly under her arms, and someone else held her knees. Because of Tom’s infantile behavior, the young woman assumed Ayala and Neelix were lifting her. She was able to finally open her eyes slightly, and confirmed what she had thought.

"Gently, now," Neelix said. "Lay her across the back seat."

He pulled his tunic off, and folded it under her head for a pillow. That was when he noticed her eyes were slightly open.

"And you wanted to leave her," he said in a husky voice. Tears filled his eyes, and rolled unashamedly down his spotted cheeks, as he turned to face Tom. "You forgot one thing," he said wondrously, "Borg nanoprobes. I ought to know, they brought me back from the dead once before."

Tom wisely didn’t say anything as the again headed for the city. Ayala rode next to him, keeping a sharp eye out for anymore sign of the inhabitants, while Neelix squatted next to Seven holding her hand.

They made their way across the dangerous L class planet, knowing they needed to reach their destination as quickly as possible, without arousing suspicion. Finally reaching a sign post in the darkness, Ayala ran the alien language through the small computer in his tricorder and confirmed they were entering Gisa.

"Well....boss, what next?" Paris asked, turning off the engine.

Ayala ignored the sarcasm, but only because it was a valid question.

"I think the Gintarans are acting very strange for a bunch of plague victims. Something doesn’t fit. I say we try to blend in with the locals that haven’t been infected and see if we can learn anything."

Just then, a commotion could be heard a few meters ahead. A group of four Gintarans emerged from the brush with a struggling prisoner. Neelix recognized Samantha immediately, even in the darkness.

He and Ayala immediately exited the car and went after them while Paris stared after them in disbelief.

Finally, when it looked like Starfleet was going to lose this one, Paris said, "Oh, what the hell!"

Jumping out of the land vehicle, he leapt into the middle of the fray. One good kick, knocked out the Gintaran that was pummeling Ayala. Looking at Paris briefly in surprise, Ayala picked up a tree limb and struck the Gintaran Neelix was fighting across the back of the neck.

The other two Gintarans were dispatched fairly quickly, and a trembling Samantha was helped gently to her feet.

"Are you alright?" Paris asked her.

"I am now, thank you," she said, brushing her blonde hair back from her smudged face.

"Did they say anything to you?" Neelix asked, reaching to take his friend’s hands.

For a moment, Samantha shook her head, then she froze remembering something.

"Not to me, but I did hear some of them talking. They said the minister would want to question me. I don’t know what it means, but from the bits and pieces I heard, this was not some naturally occurring disease. I think it was engineered."

"Oh, come on!" Paris said, "Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid?"

"No! Listen to me," Sam insisted. "I heard someone say something about a bio-engineering department, and mind control. I don’t think any of this was an accident."

Chapter 6

Kathryn Janeway paced her ready room like a caged tiger.

Her distracted state made her of no use on the bridge and she had left Commander Chakotay in charge, at his almost pointed suggestion.

Harry had enhanced long range sensors and discovered that the dampening field around Gintara had been strengthened, somehow. Running more in-depth scans, Tuvok had been able to discern a power fluctuation in the field circumnavigating the planet, indicating an independent source powering the dampening field.

They hadn’t discovered the anomaly before because there had been no reason to question the Gintarans. The distress signal had seemed authentic enough, the Chancellor forthcoming with all seemingly pertinent information, now this discovery cast suspicion on everything that had gone before and convinced Kathryn beyond any doubt that the away team was in grave danger.

Voyager was still out of hailing distance from Gintaran space, but somehow, Janeway suspected there would be no response.

The only thing there was to do was wait. Unfortunately waiting wasn’t something Kathryn Janeway did very well.

Now, she paced her ready room rehashing the earlier conversation with Chakotay. She still didn’t know what she was going to do about Seven. With all her heart, Kathryn believed in the ideals of Starfleet, and those ideals told her it was wrong for a captain to become involved with a crewmember.

Yet, her heart also burned for the closeness of another human being. Not for the onboard friendships she shared with certain individuals, but for true closeness, binding two hearts together, making them one.

Kathryn sensed that if she allowed it to happen, Seven could be that person. But, could she be selfish enough to choose that path? What would she do if she were placed in a position of having to choose between Seven and Voyager? She would have to pick the ship, of course.

Seven deserved better than that, she deserved a partner that would place her above everything and everyone. Kathryn knew that was something she could never give the young woman.

Blue-grey eyes darkened with regret as the lonely woman realized what her choice would have to be.

"Captain to the bridge," the voice of her first officer interrupted. "We’re in orbit around the planet. So far, there is no response to our hails."

"On my way," she said in a suspiciously husky voice while striding forcefully for the door.

******

The fire burned everywhere, igniting the path around her and encroaching steadily. Finally, it reached her, tearing through her body, consuming her flesh mercilessly.

The pain embraced her fully, squeezing, crushing the life from her. Suddenly, the light of the fire searing her eyes abated somewhat. A form was silhouetted against the inferno, drawing steadily closer. With the approach of the being came a cooling wind, comforting her scorched flesh. As the form drew nearer, she knew she would see the face of her savior.

Consciousness returned slowly and Seven cracked open her eyes.

"Kathryn," she whispered hoarsely through dry, parched lips.

"Easy now," Samantha Wildman advised.

She was supporting Seven’s head in her lap, gently sponging water onto the former drone’s fevered skin with a strip of cloth torn from the hem of her tunic.

"How long have I..?"

"Shhh," Sam said. "You’ve been sleeping for about two hours."

At Seven’s look of confusion, the blonde Ensign attempted to explain.

"The land vehicle finally stopped working. Lieutenant Paris couldn’t get it moving again, so we camped here. We’re close to a small village, so Paris and Ayala went to see what they could find out."

"Neelix?" Seven asked, concerned that she and Ensign Wildman had been left unprotected.

"Don’t worry. He’s over there by the stream." Sam indicated the direction with a nod of her head. "He’s getting more water. We’ve been trying to bring your fever down."

The fuzzy Talaxian heard the last comment as he walked up to the two women.

"Glad to see you awake. You really had us worried."

Instinctively, Seven tried to sit up and immediately regretted it as pane shot sharply through her extremities. The grinding of bone against bone let her know her limbs were still shattered. Either the nanoprobes hadn’t found that a priority, or the damage to her limbs was too extensive for the microscopic bodies to repair.

Seven knew that if the nanoprobes found the damage too extensive to repair, they would deactivate themselves. Her human system would have only itself to rely on to combat the internal bleeding and infection. Since she was running a high fever, it was further evidence that the nanoprobes had done all they could. On top of that, it appeared the brief respite from the pain had come to end. It consumed her and she had to force herself not to cry out from the severity, but couldn’t prevent herself shaking from the combination of the fever and the pain.

"Don’t try to move," Neelix said, gently holding her right hand. "I’m sure your nanoprobes are repairing your body very efficiently, but it won’t help trying to force it."

Seven didn’t have the heart to correct him.

The rustling in the undergrowth had Sam and Neelix quickly reaching for their phasers.

"Take it easy," Tom Paris said, coming face to face with dual phasers.

"Where’s Ayala?" Neelix asked worriedly.

"He’s coming. He’s got a present for Seven," Tom said, sitting down heavily. "Man, I’m so hungry, I could eat Starfleet ration bars."

"Me too," Sam agreed. "We’re going to have to find food soon. This tepid stream water isn’t going to hold us long."

Ayala chose that moment to emerge noisily from the brush. He was carrying a bulky metallic object that had four wheels. Two of the wheels were larger, a quarter of a meter in diameter. The other two wheels were significantly smaller and Sam was stymied at what purpose such an object could serve.

The mystery was abruptly solved when the dark-haired security officer unfolded a chair.

"We couldn’t find another vehicle, but one of the local inhabitants had this. It seems her elderly father died a while back and she doesn’t need it anymore. We can put Seven in here...it’s easier than carrying her," he finished.

"That’s very thoughtful, but were you able to find out anything?" Neelix prompted.

Paris snorted derisively as Ayala responded, sparing a glare for the juvenile acting helmsman.

"Yeah, there’s a curfew in effect. No one’s allowed out after dark. Of course local enforcers make an exception for...uh...certain females."

"Hookers," Paris supplied. "Seems half of their revenue goes to the government, so the gestapo turns a blind eye."

"The oldest profession. Anything else?" Sam asked.

Ayala hesitated before answering her, as thought judging what the reaction might be.

"It looks like you were right. One of the girls said the enforcers took some people away a few weeks ago without charging them with any crimes. The next time they saw them, they were ‘plague victims’. They respond to no one but the enforcers, doing whatever they’re told."

"They were the initial test subjects, to see if the ‘plague’ worked," Neelix said.

"Yeah, but for what purpose? Why would anyone want to do that to their own people?" Sam asked, horrified.

"Mind control,"

All eyes turned to Seven for further explanation.

"The Borg use assimilation and induce a collective consciousness. This plague exhibits similar results in its victims. Perhaps not a collective consciousness, but a willingness to do whatever they are instructed with resistance. It is the only answer."

Seven swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. The magnitude of such an operation was phenomenal. Finding her voice, Seven forced herself to speak clearly, albeit hoarsely.

"Our mission is no longer relevant. We must return to the beam out site."

"Finally, a voice of reason!" Tom enthused.

"We can’t just leave these people to fend for themselves," the Talaxian and self-proclaimed morale officer argued.

Seven squeezed his hand gently with her waning strength, gaining his attention more completely than shouting would have done.

"In this case, Mister Paris is correct. If this is a government conspiracy, we are severely outnumbered, and none of us are without injury. We would not survive a confrontation."

"Agreed," Ayala said. "I was able to procure some assistance from the locals. They’ll help us hide until morning and get us some food."

As if on cue, Paris’ stomach complained loudly.

"Sounds good to me," he said. "Let’s get Seven in that chair and get out of here."

Chapter 7

Seven opened her eyes when she heard the voices of the alien females. Only then did she realize she had lost consciousness, again. Her body had grown hotter and sweat covered her brow even as shivers racked her slender frame. Her fever had increased and the blurriness in her vision told her that her Borg cortical node was beginning to shut down. Since nanoprobes normally maintained her body’s systems and she didn’t sweat, the fact that she was doing so told her that her nanoprobes were also failing.

No, she thought fiercely. I will not terminate. I will see Kathryn, again.

With the desperation of her thoughts, Seven tensed her body, then realized she had clenched her left hand into a fist.

Staring at the appendage as though it belonged to someone else, she slowly realized that her nanoprobes had continued to repair her shattered body even when she thought they had shut down. Fascinated despite herself, she ignored the conversation between Ayala and the ‘street walkers’, as Paris had called them, and continued to take stock of her own situation.

Her Borg-enhanced arm, although the implants were now hidden by the Doctor’s cosmetic skills, seemed to have regained full use. The muscles were stiff and somewhat shaky, but functional. Her right arm had recovered enough to feel sensation again, but had almost no strength. That appeared to be the extent of the improvements, however. Seven could tell by the pain still coursing through her lower extremities and mid-section that her legs were beyond repair and she was still bleeding.

Forcing herself to focus on her surroundings since there was nothing she could do to improve her condition, she realized Ayala had secured food and lodgings for the crew.

"See, Seven," Neelix said, patting her on the shoulder, "everything’s going to be fine."

Feeling herself growing heavy with fatigue, she didn’t respond as her eyes closed against her will, and she began slumbering lightly.

They were led a short distance away from the women to a shed-like building. The structure was cramped, but comfortable.

A woman, Katrin, gave them each a bowl of mush like porridge and promptly left them again to their own devices.

"Eww, what is this?" Paris asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Don’t start that again, Paris," Ayala directed with a frown. "It’s food, eat it,"

Neelix shook Seven awake gently, deeming her ingestion of nutrients more important than his own.

"I am not hungry," she informed him in her best Borg monotone.

The fact that the sight and smell of the food immediately turned her stomach was far from irrelevant.

"Just a few bites," he coaxed her gently, lifting a spoonful to her full lips.

Knowing that her body required the sustenance, she opened her mouth and allowed the Talaxian to feed her. After only a few mouthfuls, however, she could handle no more.

Sighing with worry, Neelix sat down near his young blonde friend and finished his own meal.

"Hey," Paris asked a few moments later, "are you going to finish that?" He pointed at Seven’s bowl with his spoon.

Ayala looked at him with disgust in his dark brown eyes. "You really are a piece of work, Paris."

"What?" Tom asked with a touch of bewilderment.

"As a medic, you should know she needs all the nourishment she can get," Sam supplied.

Tom looked down at his own bowl and began trying to scrape the residue from the sides mumbling, "Well, its just going to go to waste."

The five finished their meal quietly, Neelix even managing to coax a few more bites from the ex-drone.

A raise in the noise coming from the prostitutes vicinity caught their attention a few moments later, causing them to look at each other in concern.

"Stay here," Ayala ordered, "I’ll find out what’s going on."

"I am coming with you," Seven informed him coldly.

Over the din of protests, Seven interrupted forcefully. "I may be incapacitated physically, but I am unimpaired mentally. Also, my Borg enhanced hearing will allow us to hear the conversation clearly from a more safe distance."

Unable to argue with that, Ayala pushed the chair quietly out of the cabin. The dense undergrowth and trees allowed them to approach the clearing without being seen. When they were close enough to view the scene before them, they stopped behind a large tree.

The shadows of the night and the undergrowth allowed them to go undetected.

"What are they saying?" Ayala whispered.

"Nothing of import as yet," Seven returned. "Wait . . . "

Both of them froze as a helmeted enforcer suddenly waved a palm beacon in front of the women’s eyes. The pulse of the beacon was hypnotic even from a distance, and the demeanor of the women changed instantly.

The females stood rigid, like the other plague victims had. Their faces took on a sleep-like appearance as their eyes glazed over.

"The enforcer is asking if they have seen any strangers, recently. They are describing our appearance . . . "

Seven turned her head abruptly, pinning Ayala with a desperate look. "I suggest you tell the others to hide. The inhabitants are telling them everything."

Ayala was off almost instantly, pausing only long enough to tell Seven to hide.

Knowing she couldn’t exactly outrun the enforcers, Seven forced herself to remain quiet and still when they walked within a few feet of her location. After they had passed, going in the direction of the small hut, Seven gripped the wheels as tightly as she could and turned herself around.

Her left hand was much stronger than her right and she was constantly compensating for the weakened appendage, or she would inadvertently spin herself to the right. Managing to propel herself in a relatively straight course, she spied a structure that looked like a warehouse. If she were correct, there should be plenty of places to hide in such a structure.

Seven rolled across the threshold into almost pitch darkness. Reflexively, she attempted to adjust her cortical node to night vision and was shocked to realize it wasn’t functional. Almost simultaneously, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her.

Not now, she thought desperately.

Her body was shutting down and there was nothing she could do about it.

It seemed almost cruel that her body was giving out and her senses seemed heightened beyond endurance. She could clearly hear the enforcers shouting to each other as they searched the buildings for Voyager’s crew.

Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness and she could vaguely make out empty cargo containers in a corner of the building. Forcing her failing body to comply, Seven crossed the short distance. Some of the containers seemed large enough, but how would she get inside?

She pushed the chair as close to one of the larger containers as she could and reached over, testing the stability of the barrel. It was heavier toward the bottom, helping the vessel remain upright.

Seven twisted in the seat and grasped the sides of the barrel tightly with both hands. The maneuver caused pain to shoot a hot line straight down her body and through her legs, causing her to gasp at the sudden sensation. Steeling herself against the reaction, knowing she didn’t have the time to be distracted, she pushed straight down against the opening, lifting herself from the seat of the chair.

Panting against the pain and the exertion, Seven swung her bottom onto the outside of the surface. She had to lean forward and brace herself with her left arm to keep the container from tumbling over, while she grasped one leg with her right arm and eased it into the container.

The sounds coming from outside told her the enforcers were closing in on her location, and with desperation she grasped the other leg and stuffed it into the barrel. Her abrupt movement caused the vessel to tip precariously for a second. When it finally fell back into place, the metal on the bottom made a loud thump against the floor of the building.

A sob of frustration escaped her lips as she let herself fall into the container, wedging her shattered legs beneath the weight of a body enhanced with Borg metal.

It was too much for her overloaded systems. Her internal injuries and the recent exertion caught up to the young woman. The failing cortical node reached its limit and finally shut down altogether, leaving her drifting . . . feeling heavy. Her eyes slipped shut, her breathing slowed . . . as the enforcers approached her position, alerted by the thumping of the container, her breathing ceased.

"Are you sure you heard something?" a helmeted enforcer asked his companion.

"I’m sure," the other responded, hefting a large phaser weapon. "There’s someone in here, look around."

The most obvious hiding place were the containers where the young woman lay. After only a few seconds, they located her. When there was no reaction from their cornered prey, the two spared a brief glance at each other before one of them reach into the vessel.

"No pulse," he said, disappointed.

His companion grunted in response before saying, "Leave the body where it is. We have enough to do."

Chapter 8

Neelix stumbled through the dark forest. The night sounds around him seemed to possess a malevolence, almost a sentience as he fought his way through the undergrowth.

He had become separated from the others when the enforcers appeared outside the tiny shack. Everyone had scattered in opposite directions. Seven and Ayala, of course, hadn’t been there to begin with, so he had no idea where they were.

All he did know, was he needed to escape the search party and regroup. Perhaps the others had escaped as well, and they could start back to the beam out point. As badly as he felt about leaving these people to their fate, all he wanted to do was leave this planet, and the awful memories far behind. He hadn’t been this frightened since his home planet had been destroyed.

In the looming shadows, he spied a large warehouse. The Talaxian hid behind a large tree, watching for a few minutes to see if there was any activity inside the structure. When he finally decided it was safe for the moment, he cautiously approached.

This looked like as good a place as any to figure out what to do next.

Neelix could see fairly well in the darkness. His Talaxian physiology granted him slitted pupils similar to a feline. It also granted him a similar visual acuity. The only one on this mission with better night vision was Seven of Nine, and that was only because of her ocular implant.

Easily navigating the cavernous cargo area, the desperate man began searching for anything he could use to construct a signal amplifier. A possibility of cutting through the planets dampening field and communicating with Voyager existed, if he could find the right frequency modulator. If he could find the equipment he needed, that is. Fortunately, as someone who used to trade in garbage, he was used to having to do a lot with very little.

About forty minutes after beginning, he was almost finished. All he needed was a phase inverter.

"Now, if I were a phase inverter, where would I be?" he mused aloud.

Glancing inside a large cargo container searching for the needed item...he started back in fear.

When no one emerged from the vessel, he mustered up his courage and re-approached. Fear caused the adrenaline to pump fiercely through his veins, but he forced his trembling legs to move him forward. His eyes widened suddenly as he recognized the pale visage.

"Seven!"

***

"Captain, we’re receiving a hail on a secure channel, audio only," Ensign Kim reported.

After an hour of silence, Janeway was as surprised as Harry’s voice indicated he was. "Let’s hear it."

"...ship, Voyager. This is Chancellor Valkrak. If you are reading me, please respond."

As if the situation weren’t bad enough, the fear in his voice caused the hair on the back of Janeway’s neck to stand up.

"This is Janeway," she answered quickly. "Chancellor, what is going on, and where the hell are my peop..."

"Captain, please...no time," he interrupted. "I only have a moment, they’re probably closing in on me, now."

Not leaving her time to respond, and barely taking a breath he said, "I am sending you an encoded transmission. It contains information on breaking through the dampening field. I can’t guarantee how effective it will be since the frequency is changed periodically."

"As for what’s happening...please don’t blame me, I didn’t know..." he said with a sob.

Seven, Tom...she thought, wondering if they were already dead.

"Know what?"

The steel whip of command was in her voice, focusing the shaky politician instantly.

"The plague...its not a plague," he said, totally confounding the Starfleet Captain. "Its a weapon. I discovered that the planet’s militia released an experimental antigen into the air. Its passed from one individual to another much like the flu, but its extremely virulent. It causes the neural receptors in the right hemisphere of the brain to be highly receptive to suggestion."

"Mind control," Kathryn breathed.

"Yes. I didn’t know about this when I sent the distress signal, but your people are in grave danger. They’re being hunted by the enforcers as we speak. They’re to be executed as enemies of the state."

The horror of the situation encompassed the small captain. Feeling suddenly weak in the knees, Kathryn slumped into her chair. Only one question pounded insistently through her mind.

"Why are you helping us?"

"Not all of my people are like this, Captain. Some of us actually care about others. This isn’t your fight. Get your people out of here and leave this planet."

A sudden commotion came over the transmission, ending the dialogue. "They’ve found me..." he screamed just as the signal was terminated.

Voyager rocked as it was hit by a weapons discharge, directed from the planet’s surface.

"Report!" Janeway barked, reflexively.

"Shields are holding, Captain. There is no damage," Tuvok reported calmly. "Their weapons are no match for Voyager."

"That’s good, because we’re not going anywhere. They want a fight, they’ve got one. Harry, how’s that analysis coming?"

"I think we can break through the barrier, Captain, but the signal is erratic. I’m getting a lot of EM interference from the disruptor field," he answered, shooting her an apologetic look.

The scientist in her thinking quickly, Kathryn thought about alternative possibilities.

Sending a comm signal through any energy barrier was a shaky prospect at best, but if there was a way to boost the signal gain...

"Transporters," she said suddenly, meeting Harry’s intense gaze.

Catching on instantly, the Communications officer picked up on her lead.

"If we boost the signal and reroute it through the pattern enhancers, we might be able to transport the away team back to Voyager."

"Get on it. In the mean time, we need a back up plan. Harry, maintain red alert, you have the bridge. Chakotay, Tuvok...my ready room, now!"

The trio had just started to leave the command center when Harry interrupted excitedly.

"Captain, I’ve got something!"

"Can you be more specific, Mr. Kim?" she inquired, rushing toward him.

"I’m reading a Borg energy signature. I locked onto Seven’s Borg implants since they give off a higher resonance signature."

"Spare me the biology lesson, can you tell me if she’s alright?"

Shaking his head slightly, he answered, "Unknown, the signals shaky, but I think I can lock onto her."

"Do it! Beam her to transporter room one. Tuvok, you’re with me. Commander, you have the bridge," she said, striding for the turbolift.

Janeway hung onto the rails inside the turbolift as she ordered emergency velocity.

Janeway and Tuvok rushed into the transporter room as a large barrel materialized. They rushed toward the transporter pad while exchanging a bewildered look.

Kathryn looked quickly inside and gasped at the sight that met her eyes.

"Oh, no..." she whispered, covering her mouth with a trembling hand.

Tears filled storm-gray eyes as she looked on the battered form of Seven of Nine. Reaching out, she gently stroked a wisp of hair back from a high, delicate cheekbone.

If she had been looking at Tuvok, Kathryn would have seen a very un-Vulcan expression of sorrow on his dark countenance.

The stoic security officer reached gently into the vessel and lifted Seven’s body out. Turning toward the woman he knew loved Seven, he lowered her into Kathryn’s waiting arms as she sank to the deck.

Seven’s head rolled bonelessly back on her slender neck and Kathryn whimpered as she guided the beloved face onto her chest.

"Tuvok to sickbay, medical emergency in transporter room one."

Janeway gave no sign of having heard the communique as she cradled Seven’s broken body in her lap. Unmindful of the tears streaming down her face or of the transporter chief watching helplessly from her console, Kathryn pleaded with Seven forlornly.

"Please, Seven..." she said in a tear-filled voice. "Don’t leave me. I’m sorry I pushed you away. I love you so much."

Her voice cracked on a sob just as the doctor materialized beside them.

Quickly scanning the young woman with a tricorder, he gave the captain a run-down of her injuries, not realizing how much he was twisting the knife in Kathryn’s heart.

"Her cortical node has shut down, multiple concussive injuries, internal hemorrhaging from a ruptured spleen, shattered... Needless to say, the list is extensive. We need to get her to sickbay."

"What for, she’s dead," Kathryn said hoarsely, feeling the coldness emanating from Seven’s lifeless form.

"Captain, I’m surprised at you," he said acerbically.

At Janeway’s bewildered look, he attempted to explain.

"She’s Borg. Her nanoprobes allow for her body to be resuscitated up to 72 hours after clinical death. From these readings, that event occurred only 2.47 hours ago."

Afraid to hope, Kathryn asked, "Are you say...you can help her?

"None of these injuries are beyond my medical expertise, but I’d like help from Lieutenant Torres."

"Torres?" Kathryn asked swiping a hand across her tear-stained face.

"Seven’s nanoprobes are stimulated by her regeneration process. Since she can’t stand up as she normally does, I need Lieutenant Torres to rig a unit Seven can utilize while lying down," he explained urgently.

Scraping some semblance of her command mask back together she said, "You have my authorization to utilize whatever resources you need."

The Doctor and Seven dematerialized in a shower of sparkles while Tuvok assisted the Captain to her feet.

Now that there was a possibility that the Doctor could help Seven, Janeway felt the ire causing her blood to boil.

"Let’s go, Commander," she ordered tersely.

"Where are we going, Captain?"

He could only raise his eyebrow at the anger and determination in her husky voice when she replied, "To get our people back."

Chapter 9

Janeway completed the finishing touches on her away mission outfit with sharp, abrupt movements. The anger permeating her soul and firing her will was what was driving her, now.

Anger at a government that would use its own people as test subjects, much less for something as heinous as a mind control experiment. Anger at having to break the prime directive, again, by becoming involved in a planetary conundrum. Although, arguably, they hadn’t asked to be involved, they clearly were. Anger at placing her crewmembers in danger, and most of all, she was hopping mad at the pain and suffering Seven of Nine had been forced to endure.

Kathryn stood up and scrutinized her appearance in the full length mirror attached to the inside of the closet door in her personal quarters.

Although not Starfleet issue, her outfit would unquestionably function better in the Gintaran night than her red and black uniform.

All black, it consisted of a turtleneck sweater, thick pants with padded knees, and calf high combat boots with thick rubber soles. The trousers boasted numerous cargo pockets on the sides of her thighs and in the rear, and contained survival items that might be needed on this mission.

Mentally taking inventory, she couldn’t think of anything she could have missed. A think spool of Vulcan filament that could be used for a variety of things from strangling a foe to suturing a wound.

She also carried a packet of waterproof matches, a weeks supply of Starfleet rations, and a large knife.

She had discovered through experience that, sometimes, low tech was best.

Satisfied and feeling ready to tackle anything, she picked up a narrow black band of elastic material that emitted a focused beam and slipped it around her left bicep.

Harry had been able to construct personal pattern enhancers for the rescue team, and Janeway had been assured that the field generated by the enhancers of the team would be enough to transport the original away team back to Voyager without difficulty.

"Tuvok to Janeway," she heard over her comm badge.

"Go ahead, Commander," she returned, hoping he wasn’t about to try and talk her out of going on this assignment. She had heard quite enough from Chakotay about the Captain’s place being on the bridge.

To her great relief, all he said was, "Security team Alpha is standing by in transporter room one, Captain."

"Understood, Tuvok, I’m on my way."

Janeway hefted the large phaser rifle she had relieved from the armory off her bed, turned smartly on her heel, and headed for the turbolift.

She was aware of the startled looks she garnered from several of her crew as she moved through the ship, but she paid them no attention as she focused on the task at hand.

Crewman Tal Celes narrowly avoided colliding with the Captain as the dynamic redhead rounded the corner outside the transporter room.

The Bajoran woman’s eyes widened at the sight of Janeway’s outfit and the size of the rifle she was carrying. Feeling imminently sorry for the unfortunate species that was about to encounter the small woman’s wrath, and all she could think was, "Oh, shit. Janeway’s got a gun."

Chapter 10

"Mister Tuvok," Janeway said by way of greeting.

A dip of his head was acknowledgment enough between the two as the rescue team stepped up on the transporter dias.

"How is she?" Tuvok asked quietly.

Only the years of friendship they shared allowed Kathryn to hear the concern in his voice. People thought Vulcans were emotionless, but Janeway knew differently. Beget from a violent, extremely emotional beginning, they had learned to suppress their emotions to the point where they appeared nonexistent.

"The doctor believes he can revive her. B’Elanna’s helping on the technological side of things," she answered carefully, feeling tears of hopelessness sting the backs of her eyes.

She didn’t bother informing him that the doctor wasn’t overly optimistic for the ex-drone’s recovery. The nanoprobes had been dormant for so long, he wasn’t sure they would reactivate.

"Energize," she ordered the lieutenant working the transporters.

As soon as their patterns sparkled back together, Tuvok continued the conversation smoothly.

"You do not sound convinced, Captain," he stated while scanning the area with his tricorder.

Needing to deflect the conversation somewhat, Kathryn merely asked, "Do I detect concern in your voice, old friend?"

Silently indicating which direction to go by stepping off with purpose in his stride, Tuvok answered the query.

"I find Seven of Nine to be a contradiction. She is a logical, forthright individual and, at times reminds me of my daughter. At other times, she displays a depth of character that is both compassionate and noble . . . and very human, not unlike a very good old friend," he said, looking at Janeway significantly.

"In short, Captain, she is also my friend."

Kathryn struggled to keep her emotions in check before replying in a shaky voice, "That’s not very logical, Tuvok."

"I have found, Captain, that where Seven of Nine is concerned, my logic is not always sound."

"I know what you mean, Tuvok. I know what you mean."

The team had been transported to a short distance from where they had locked on to Seven. Soon they were standing on the perimeter of a small village, scanning for their missing crewmembers.

"Captain, I’m reading one Talaxian and three human life signs coming from that small structure," the Vulcan reported.

Janeway felt a rush of relief wash over her knowing she was within a few meters of her wayward sheep. But she hadn’t taken more than two steps before she felt a hand on her shoulder stopping her.

"Sorry, Captain," Crewman Chell of the security team said, "But that building is heavily guarded. We wouldn’t get within five meters before they spotted us," the blue skinned Bolian apologized.

Kathryn fumed silently, counting to ten in an effort to control her temper just as she had advised Seven to do when she had altercations with Voyager’s chief engineer. The thought of the young woman fighting for her life on a biobed in sickbay was enough to push Janeway over the edge.

The Delta Quadrant had never been very friendly to the intrepid crew. Janeway was used to it. But it was something else entirely when a species deliberately targeted them after they had tried to come to their aid by responding to a distress signal.

The sky had the tint of darkness turning to daylight, and she intended to take advantage of the fading shadows.

"Crewman Chell, there’s an old Earth expression . . . ’Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead’. Now, I’m going to bring our missing people home. Are you coming?"

Tuvok merely raised an eyebrow at Chell’s dazed expression and prompted, "Fall in, Crewman."

As they approached the small hut, Kathryn spied three guards. Two of them were guarding the entrances while to the building while the third patrolled in a continuous circuit.

"I don’t have time for this," Janeway muttered angrily.

Without breaking stride, the dynamic captain walked up to one of the guards. She was sure the man would have been gaping at her in shock if she’d been able to see his face through the dark helmet.

Before he could do little more than flinch, Janeway opened fire with her phaser rifle. The weapon was set on heavy stun, throwing him several meters before he impacted with the thick wooden door and slumped into unconsciousness.

Spinning on her heel, she fired on the guard sprinting around the building tossing him against a thick tree trunk.

Tuvok caught the third guard square in the chest as he rounded the corner, blowing him neatly through the window.

The sudden silence was deafening until Crewman Ryan broke it by saying to Janeway, "Remind me to never piss you off."

Kathryn would have laughed at the awe in his voice if she weren’t so focused on finding out the condition of her crewmen.

Tuvok stepped in front of the captain, and she rolled her eyes at the protective move, but refrained from commenting. The lock broke easily under his Vulcan strength.

"Who’s there?" Neelix’s voice shook with fear.

Having just seen the Gintaran guard fly through the window, not to mention all the phaser fire, he was terrified at what could be worse than the enforcers.

"Relax, Neelix," Janeway said wryly as her head of security pushed through the door.

She heard a chorus of, "Captain?" before she was rushed by three of her missing people.

Neelix, Ayala and Samantha Wildman were suddenly surrounding her, inundating her with questions and comments. There was no way she could possibly hope to understand them, but in the coming daylight, she could clearly see that none of them had escaped injury.

Holding up her hands for silence, she said, "Please, I’ll speak with each of you but right now, I think we should get out of here before we have company."

"Captain, wait," Sam said quickly. "Seven of Nine . . . how is she? Neelix said he had just found her when you transported her away."

All eyes rested on her as they waited expectantly for her answer. How could she answer that? How could she tell them that the Doctor wasn’t completely sure he would be able to assist the young woman? That she was terrified of returning to Voyager to find she was permanently short a piece of her soul?

"The Doctor’s with her now," she said simply. "Where’s Lieutenant Paris?"

Turning, she spotted Voyager’s helmsman leaning indolently against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.

"It’s about time," he said sarcastically before strolling past a stunned crew as he walked outside.

When he passed Tuvok, he deliberately bumped the Vulcan with his shoulder.

"Excuse you," he said acerbically before continuing on his way.

Frowning mightily, Janeway followed and whispered to her friend, "As soon as we return to the ship, see that everyone is escorted directly to sickbay. I want each of them to receive a full checkup."

"A wise precaution, Captain."

Chapter 11

Janeway sat with less than stellar patience on the upper level of her ready room as Tuvok updated her on the situation. Her mind was on Seven’s recovery, or lack thereof. She would have given anything to be able to be at the young woman’s side right now, but duty called.

All members of the original away team, with the exception of Lieutenant Paris, had been treated for their injuries and released to full duty.

"It would seem that Mr. Paris has contracted the ‘plague’."

That did get Kathryn’s attention. Sitting up quickly, she asked, "I thought all humans were immune?"

"Mr. Paris has an errant gene in his DNA. It is the same one that caused him to de-evolve into a reptile when he flew the shuttle craft in speeds exceeding warp 10. In this case, it made him susceptible to the mind altering toxin released by the Gintaran government. He was not responsible for his actions."

"Remind me not to send him on any more away missions. What’s his prognosis?"

She had always had a bit of a soft spot for Tom because of her history with his father, even if he was a thorn in her side sometimes. But at other times, she wondered why she put up with him at all.

"The doctor was able to develop a treatment regimen and has successfully cured him. Since we now have all pertinent information concerning this ‘disease’, the doctor was also able to synthesize a counteragent to the Gintaran toxin. It can be deployed into the upper atmosphere with a torpedo and has a high cure rate."

"How high?" she asked.

"99.976 percent."

Janeway chuckled thinking that was a typical Tuvok estimate.

"At least something’s going right."

The stoic Vulcan heard the crack in the sad voice and quietly cleared his throat in discomfort. Shrugging aside his automatic reaction, he realized that as burdensome as human emotions were to him, there was no amount of discomfort he wouldn’t suffer for this individual, and for the person she was concerned about.

"You are referring to Seven of Nine’s condition. What is her status?"

Kathryn sighed, thinking about her discussion with the doctor prior to his examination of the away team.

It didn’t occur to her that she had allowed the discussion with Tuvok to become personal. But that’s was exactly what was happening since she answered the question, not from Captain to crewman, but from a woman to a friend.

"She’s regenerating... or at least we hope so," she answered finally.

"The doctor has repaired most of her injuries; the biological ones. B’Elanna rigged a regeneration unit that Seven can utilize while lying down. Excellent work, really ... worthy of a commendation..."

"But," he prompted, sensing she wasn’t telling him everything.

"But, he can’t control her nanoprobes. As you know, Seven still needs to draw energy from the ship’s systems to maintain her implants. If the regeneration unit doesn’t reactivate her nanoprobes, as we hope, she won’t survive."

Without missing a beat, Tuvok replied, "Therefore, it is merely a matter of time until Seven of Nine is fully recovered."

Glancing at him in surprise, she asked, "Optimism, Tuvok?"

"On the contrary, Captain," he answered, finally settling into the chair adjacent to her, "I am merely being logical. Both the doctor and Lieutenant Torres excel in their chosen fields. If anyone can succeed against insurmountable odds, they can."

"I hope you’re right, my friend," she said, feeling a single tear escape her control and slide freely down her cheek.

"You love her," he observed simply.

The time was past for useless denials and self-castigation. This was too important and she would no longer back away from the truth.

"With all my hear and soul," she answered. "I just found her, Tuvok. I can’t lose her, again."

Not knowing how to respond, but somehow needing to show his support, the dark-skinned Vulcan placed his hand over Kathryn’s.

"Sickbay to Captain Janeway," came the holographic doctor’s voice.

"Janeway, here," she answered with a quaver, unconsciously tightening the grip on her security chief’s hand.

"I think you should come down here."

The typical arrogance was gone from the EMH’s voice, and if Kathryn didn’t know better, she would have thought she heard a trace of sadness.

Kathryn was in the turbolift on her way to sickbay without recalling how she got there. Her brain felt like it was in a panic induced fog, leaving things distorted and jumbled in it wake. She didn’t recall leaving the ready room in a semi-dignified dash, or the concerned looks of support from her senior staff as she crossed the command center.

When the lift stopped on deck five and the pneumatic doors parted, Kathryn hesitated before stepping out, taking a brief moment to compose herself and ensure that her command mask was firmly fixed in place.

Mentally shaking herself out of the fog, not knowing if she was ready for this, but having little choice, she forced her frozen limbs to carry her to the medical bay.

Lieutenant Torres and the doctor were waiting by the surgical bay when the captain entered the room. B’Elanna looked a little rough around the edges and Kathryn realized how much time the engineer had been putting in to save Seven’s life. Considering the antagonism that had existed between the two since the drone had come aboard, Janeway was proud of the Klingon for her heroic efforts she had made on the younger woman’s behalf.

The doctor, being a hologram, was just as fresh as he had been at the beginning of the whole ordeal.

Kathryn stopped herself from sprinting around the two and rushing to Seven’s bedside. Squaring her shoulders she said in a strong voice, "Report!"

Unaccountably, the doctor smiled as Torres grinned and looked at the ground.

"Doctor?" Janeway prompted hopefully.

Taking a breath, which was completely unnecessary for the hologram, he said, "I thought you might want to be here when I woke her up."

"You mean she’s..." Kathryn couldn’t finish because of the emotion choking her voice.

"She’s going to be fine, thanks to Lieutenant Torres."

Janeway and Torres both looked at the doctor in disbelief. It wasn’t like him to give the credit to someone else.

"Unfortunately, I can’t take the credit for this one. Her injuries were easy enough to treat. It was the nanoprobes that we were concerned about. If the lieutenant hadn’t improvised, even the regeneration unit she built wouldn’t have worked."

"I don’t understand," Janeway said, looking at B’Elanna for clarification.

"Well, the idea came from one of those old television shows I watched with Tom. When people went into cardiac arrest, they were shocked in the chest with something called a defibrillator. In this case, we needed to shock Seven’s nanoprobes."

"How could you do that? They run throughout her body," Kathryn said.

As B’Elanna warmed up to her subject, she began pacing, hands flying around as she explained.

"Yes, but her cortical node has the highest concentration because that’s where all of her higher brain functions are controlled."

Feeling the need to not be left out, the doctor took over the explanation.

"Lieutenant Torres sent an electro magnetic pulse through her cortical node."

"And it shocked them into reactivating," Kathryn said in awe.

"Woke them little puppies right up," B’Elanna supplied impishly.

Kathryn beamed at them happily. "I’m very proud of you, both. Excellent work. B’Elanna I want you to take the next two days off, you’ve earned them."

"Thanks, Captain," B’Elanna said tiredly. "I’ll take you up on that."

The Klingon hybrid started toward the doors and suddenly turned back.

"Oh, and Captain...I just hope it can make up for all the times I called her an Ice Queen. I was wrong for that and I’m sorry."

"Why don’t you tell her that yourself, B’Elanna?" Janeway asked tenderly.

"I will," she answered before leaving a bemused captain staring at her retreating back.

"Come on," the doctor encouraged. "Let’s go wake up Sleeping Beauty."

Chapter 12

"Now, make sure you don’t tire my patient out," the holographic physician said as he pressed a hypospray against the blonde woman’s neck.

As soon as he had injected the stimulant into Seven’s blood stream, the EMH retreated to his office, affording the women some privacy. Kathryn immediately dismissed him from her thoughts as she clasped a long fingered hand between her own smaller ones.

Sandy eyelashes fluttered briefly before opening to reveal confused blue eyes. The eyes cleared when she saw Janeway sitting at her bedside.

"Kathryn," she whispered.

Janeway couldn’t prevent the sob of happiness that escaped her throat, and the tears she had been suppressing for what felt like days finally escaped. They were tears of relief that Seven would be all right as well as tears at the realization that she had almost pushed the younger woman away, forever denying them both a special love that comes along only once in a lifetime.

"Captain," Seven asked with concern, "why are you crying?"

Gently she stroked the pale hair back from Seven’s forehead and leaned down very close into the young woman’s personal space.

"I’m crying because I’m so happy to see you, my darling."

Kathryn gently brushed her lips over the full mouth that had haunted her since their first kiss. She felt Seven’s swiftly indrawn breath and drew back slightly to look down on the beautiful woman. She had already made a terrible mistake by pushing Seven away. She didn’t want to make another one by rushing the younger woman, now.

"Does this mean you have finally realized the futility of your resistance?"

Kathryn chuckled softly at the glint of humor in the pale eyes.

"Yes, love. If you still want me that is," the auburn haired woman said, suddenly unsure. "I’m sorry, Seven. I let my fear control my actions. Will you forgive me?"

Seven appeared to mull the question over momentarily, and Kathryn felt her heart thump painfully in her chest, wondering what Seven’s answer would be.

"There is nothing to forgive, Kathryn. I knew you would have to ‘work things out’ for yourself. I must admit however, that it did not take you as long as I had estimated."

"I guess almost losing you, helped me realize how much I love you." Janeway answered, drawing her fingertips lightly against a soft cheek.

"The Gintarans," Seven asked, "What will become of them?"

Janeway dipped her head, allowing the change of subject because she realized the young woman would need closure on the incident before she would relax enough to allow her own healing.

"The doctor synthesized an antidote that we’re going to release into the atmosphere. There’s better than a 99% cure rate."

"The Gintaran people will not be happy," Seven said reasonably. "There will be a dispute."

Janeway tried to hide her anger at the Gintaran government, answering Seven in a very strong ‘captain’s voice’. "That’s not something we can worry about. We’ve interfered with these people enough, and it’s time for us to move on. I’m afraid they’ll have to work things out for themselves."

"Time’s up," the doctor interrupted cheerfully, startling both women. "Come back later, my patient needs her rest."

"I will not stay here," Seven said defiantly.

Having expected some resistance the doctor started, "Now, Seven . . . "

"Doctor," Kathryn interrupted, leveling a force ten glare at the hologram, "Seven’s been regenerating for the last five hours."

"Yes, Captain, but her body has sustained massive trauma. She still needs to rest and I’m not returning her to duty for at least three more days."

Lowering her voice to a more reasonable tone, and hoping Seven would go along with her suggestion, Janeway asked, "Is there any reason she can’t rest in my quarters?"

Looking down, she saw the warmth and happiness in the pale eyes, easing her fears.

"No, I guess not," the physician grudgingly agreed. "But, I want her to regenerate at least five hours each day and I’ll be checking up on her, periodically."

"Just call first," Kathryn returned wryly, assisting Seven in standing up and wrapping a sheet around the slim body. With her arms wrapped around the narrow waist, Kathryn helped the younger woman steady herself as she called for a site to site transfer to the captain’s quarters.

Kathryn helped settle Seven into her bed, drawing the sheets up over the young woman’s bare chest. The former drone had refused to let Kathryn replicate her something to wear, stating it was illogical to wear clothing since she would be covered up anyway with the bedding.

After settling Seven in, Janeway went into the living area to speak with Commander Chakotay for a moment. Plans were made to deploy the antidote into the planet’s atmosphere and then set a course for the Alpha Quadrant. Kathryn also made arrangements to take the next day as personal time off. Since this was something she did very rarely, and the fact that she had been pulling double shifts since this whole affair began, Chakotay was actually relieved that the captain was taking some time for herself.

Once that was settled, Kathryn walked over and leaned against the bedroom doorway, peering in at the lovely blonde. She had expected Seven to be asleep and was surprised to find blue eyes riveted on her. Swallowing against a suddenly dry throat, Kathryn recognized a look of intense desire on the young woman’s face, feeling an answering response as her loins tightened painfully and her fingertips started tingling.

The eyes were so dilated, there was only a narrow band of blue around the pupils, and Kathryn could see Seven’s hardened nipples straining against the thin material of the sheet and blanket.

"Kathryn, come sit by me," Seven requested gently.

The smaller woman moved toward the bed, pinned by the hypnotic gaze. Even as she sat beside Seven, and gently reached to stroke the pale cheek, she said, "Seven, we can’t, You need to rest."

"I have rested enough. I require you to kiss me," the young woman responded in a serious tone.

Kathryn kicked her boots off as she lay gingerly against Seven’s side, still on top of the covers. Leaning over, she brushed her lips over the wine shaded ones below her. Seven’s breath burst from her as her stomach flipped. She reached up and caught Kathryn’s chin, tilting the auburn hair up to kiss her properly.

Kathryn drew back slight and whispered into Seven’s mouth, "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes. I want you."

"Lay still. I’ll take care of you. You’re supposed to rest, remember?" Kathryn asked wickedly.

Kathryn rolled over slightly on top of Seven and kissed her gently. Her delicate fingers reached to the soft skin of Seven’s neck and she slid her hands lightly down, lifting the covers and easing her own body beneath them.

Seven tried to assist Janeway in removing her clothing, but Kathryn pushed the hands away and quickly divested herself of her garments. Leaning back down into the wonderfully warm skin, Kathryn lightly raked her nails down the narrow body to Seven’s full breasts with a combination of newness and curiosity. The skin was so soft, the nipples so hard.

She left tiny, kisses in a trail across the breastbone to the hard nipple, sucking it sharply into her mouth. Seven cried out and arched her back, pressing harder into the soft, wet mouth, the touch setting off an electric charge behind her eyes. Kathryn threw a leg across Seven, feeling herself settle onto a powerful thigh, soaking it with her own desire.

Kathryn let her fingers slide between the inexperienced woman’s slightly parted legs. She felt the difference in texture between rough hair and the soft, ready opening. Lowering herself to Seven’s side to gain better access, Kathryn rubbed the pads of fingers along the soft outer lips, spreading the copious moisture along them.

She stroked carefully, tilting her head up for another searing kiss as she penetrated Seven slowly with a single fingertip. Seven whimpered for a moment and pushed up against the maddening sensation Kathryn was creating, so that Kathryn slid inches deeper. When she was in as far as she could go, Kathryn bent her finger slightly and stroked the soft internal tissues, watching the younger woman’s face intently.

Seven bucked her hips and moaned, "Yes, Kathryn, please . . . "

Seven’s channel was so tight, Kathryn couldn’t add another digit, so she began twisting the one finger that was inside the woman, watching as pleasure suffused the beloved face. Seven rocked her hips, moving the stroking fingertips where she wanted them and trembled when they touched the right places, panting and striving for the release that was just out of reach.

Kathryn leaned close, licking the soft shell of Seven’s ear and whispered, "I love you, come for me,"

Seven came in a long, slow moan, pressing close against Kathryn as tears slid from beneath her lowered lashes. Kathryn cradled the beautiful, young woman, kissing her gently and whispering words of love until Seven calmed.

Seven was soundly asleep in seconds. Kathryn smiled, kissing the beloved face, wiping the last traces of tears from the soft cheeks before snuggling close to the woman that held her heart. She easily absorbed her desire back into herself, knowing that Seven would take care of her soon. Tonight was for Seven. That was how it should be.

Kathryn knew she had made the right decision and that this journey home had just gotten a little easier. Loving Seven was something she could never have prevented and she would be a much richer person for it.

My Seven, she thought as slumber took her . . . my angel.

The end

Home       Back to my J/7 stories page       Email Susan here