; ; Janeway sighed. No matter how hard she tried to impress Starfleet ; protocol on the former drone, she hadn't been able to break Seven of ; an unfortunate tendency to give orders to the senior officers. Seven ; considered her direct speech to be a highly efficient method of ; communication, and she didn't often condescend to phrase her ; statements in the form of polite requests.
; ; Although, to be fair, Seven usually didn't summon anyone into her ; imperial domain of Astrometrics unless she'd observed something that ; merited discussion. Seven took her duties very seriously, and she ; didn't care for interruption any more than Janeway did.
; ; Setting down her coffee cup, which was nearly empty in any case, ; Janeway touched her combadge as she headed toward the turbolift. ; "Janeway to Seven. I'm on my way."
; ; This region of space was sparsely populated, and Janeway hadn't ; expected to find anything of note. In fact, the past few weeks had ; been remarkably dull. She'd been spending far too much time in her ; latest holo-program, in which she played the part of a medieval lady ; of the manor.
; ; Seven glanced up from a console as Janeway entered Astrometrics. ; "Captain, I have detected a Borg distress signal emanating from an ; uninhabited system 2.4 light years from here. The prudent course of ; action would be to leave the vicinity at once." Seven's tone was ; slightly defensive, as if she already knew the captain wouldn't accept ; her recommendation.
; ; Janeway took a quick look at the display. "There's no evidence of any ; Borg ships nearby. The Collective may not have received the signal. ; We should investigate and, if necessary, offer assistance."
; ; "Not one of the planets in that system has a breathable atmosphere," ; Seven observed. "In all probability, if a Borg vessel crash-landed, ; there are no survivors still living."
; ; Asphyxiation on an isolated planet was a fate Janeway wouldn't wish on ; anyone. "Then it shouldn't take long to investigate. Set the course ; and inform the helm."
; ; *****
; ; The fourth planet in the system was approximately the size of Earth's ; moon, with a thin, poisonous atmosphere containing only trace amounts ; of oxygen. Voyager entered orbit and began to scan for survivors near ; the wrecked Borg ship, a possibility that Tuvok initially calculated ; to be most unlikely under the circumstances.
; ; Kim looked up from a sensor display. "I've found one life sign, very ; faint."
; ; The captain acted immediately. "Janeway to Sickbay. Prepare for ; emergency treatment of one drone transported from the planet's ; surface."
; ; "Security force field activated," the Doctor responded.
; ; "Begin transport, Mr. Kim."
; ; Janeway stood up and began to walk toward the turbolift, turning a ; brief glance toward Tuvok. "You'll accompany me to sickbay, Commander ; Tuvok."
; ; "Transport complete," Kim announced.
; ; "Mr. Paris, resume our previous course. Chakotay, you have the ; bridge," the captain ordered as she stepped into the turbolift. Tuvok ; followed, and the doors closed behind them. The turbolift moved ; smoothly between the decks.
; ; The doors opened again, and Janeway strode briskly into sickbay. ; Under the faint glow of a force field, a female drone lay unconscious ; on a bio-bed. Tuvok could see no visible wounds. Perhaps she hadn't ; been seriously injured in the crash, after all.
; ; The Doctor turned away from his patient to face Janeway and Tuvok. ; "The survival capability of the Borg is amazing. Somehow, she managed ; to completely restructure her metabolism to allow her to breathe the ; planet's atmosphere while in a voluntarily induced coma. She could ; have survived like this for several more days, until the Collective ; came to rescue her."
; ; "Just as long as they don't show up right now," Janeway said.
; ; Tuvok gazed at the still figure of the drone. She looked small and ; vulnerable lying there, a girl in armor, certainly not an evil ; would-be conqueror of the galaxy. He reminded himself that this one ; drone would be entirely capable of killing or assimilating the entire ; crew of Voyager if that force field weren't in place.
; ; "I've been gradually restoring normal atmosphere within the force ; field, to minimize the shock to her system," the Doctor continued. ; "She will return to consciousness any moment now."
; ; Even as he spoke, the drone's one eyelid fluttered, and the visual ; circuitry that had replaced the other eye focused on the officers. ; The drone lifted her head slightly and began to speak in a flat tone ; with more than a hint of accusation.
; ; "Captain Janeway. You are known to the Collective. You seize Borg ; drones and assimilate them into your Voyager crew."
; ; "I wouldn't put it like that." The captain's response was mild. "You ; were dying on that planet. Voyager answered your distress call. We ; don't intend to hold you as a prisoner."
; ; The drone raised a pale hand to touch the force field, as if to refute ; Janeway's statement. "You intend to reconfigure this body to resemble ; yours. To be altered in such a way is an unpleasant prospect. This ; drone does not wish to be assimilated into your collective."
; ; "Quite a familiar sentiment to several trillion recent victims of the ; Borg, I'm sure." Janeway's voice sharpened in frustration. "I'm not ; going to keep you here against your will. All I ask is that you take ; some time to become reacquainted with your former self, that you try ; to remember who you were before the Borg captured you."
; ; Closing her eye again, as if weary of the conversation, the drone gave ; the inevitable reply. "Irrelevant."
; ; "Not to me. Every life has value. Do you remember what you were ; doing right before you were assimilated by the Collective?"
; ; The drone made no response at all.
; ; "Maybe you were on a ship," Janeway persisted. "Do you remember being ; on a ship, before you were assimilated?"
; ; Tuvok watched the scene with quiet curiosity. Although the captain's ; methods often seemed highly unorthodox, he had learned from experience ; that they were more effective than logical assessment would indicate.
; ; Several seconds passed.
; ; "Yes. I was on a ship," the soft voice responded, with just a trace ; of returning emotion. "I was traveling with my grandfather. He was ; old and frail. The Borg considered his body to be of no use to the ; Collective. Efficiency demanded the termination of such a valueless ; life."
; ; She opened her eye again, a large dark pool in which the iris appeared ; as black as the pupil, and raised herself to a sitting position on the ; bio-bed.
; ; "Captain Janeway, I no longer wish to serve the Collective."
; ; Touching a button to lower the force field, Janeway reached to embrace ; the drone, warm skin against hard metal. "Welcome home."
; ; *****
; ; Chakotay was walking along a corridor after leaving the turbolift, ; with his head bent over a padd and most of his attention on next ; week's duty roster, when his peripheral vision picked up a stunning ; alien woman in a vivid orange dress. Her skin was so black that it ; seemed to shimmer with blue highlights, and her eyes were huge black ; orbs fringed with bizarrely long lashes. A filmy orange veil draped a ; bald head on which a few small Borg implants were visible.
; ; She approached him and spoke with the purposeful directness of a ; drone. "Commander Chakotay, I require assignment of crew quarters."
; ; No alcove in the cargo bay for this one, Chakotay thought. Somehow, ; from the look of her clothing, he wasn't surprised. That dress ; definitely wasn't designed with practical efficiency in mind. He ; looked approvingly at the ample curves it didn't quite cover, and ; then, with some embarrassment, glanced up to meet the steady gaze of ; those incredible eyes.
; ; "Uh, sure." He brought up vacant crew quarters on the padd and marked ; one as newly assigned. "Your name?"
; ; No Borg designation, either. The woman answered with about twenty ; syllables of high, screeching sounds that probably couldn't be ; reproduced by the vocal cords of anyone aboard Voyager. Chakotay ; winced.
; ; "Would you mind if we gave you a nickname?"
; ; "In an ancient language no longer spoken, my name means a small ; spider," the alien female informed him. "Does your species have a ; woman's name with a similar meaning?"
; ; Chakotay thought back to his school days, to the Greek myths he'd ; thought such a pointless subject of study. "Arachne."
; ; She considered that for a moment. "It pleases me."
; ; *****
; ; As she decorated her new quarters to resemble a distant home she'd ; lost long ago, Arachne found that her attention kept wandering in a ; very unexpected way. Thoughts of Commander Chakotay intruded upon her ; decorating efforts, bringing with them certain distracting physical ; sensations that she eventually identified as sexual arousal.
; ; The Borg did not experience such inefficient lapses in bodily control, ; she informed herself severely. Perhaps her body had been damaged by ; the prolonged exposure to the poisonous air on the planet where she'd ; been found. The proper course of action would be to return to sickbay ; and seek assistance from the ship's doctor in correcting this ; unacceptable malfunction.
; ; She left her quarters and had almost reached the turbolift before it ; occurred to her that she wasn't a drone any longer, that she had the ; freedom to make her own choices. Which meant she didn't have to ; configure her body in compliance with Borg standards of efficiency. ; She could even allow herself to experience feelings of pleasure, if ; she so chose. After all, the Collective wasn't around to reprogram ; her.
; ; A smile slowly widened across her face. Captain Janeway had given her ; much more than she'd realized. Arachne found herself thinking of the ; captain's warm, soft breasts, the affection shown by her embrace ; earlier. Had that been simply a gesture of welcome, or did Janeway ; have a sexual interest in her?
; ; It was a very arousing thought. Arachne let herself feel the ; pulsation of pleasure through her body, accepted it as a vital part of ; what she had now become. She intended to find out just what the ; captain would enjoy.
; ; *****
; ; Janeway had just finished changing into a comfortable blouse and pants ; and was about to leave her quarters when the door chime sounded. ; Standing just inside the doorway, she said, "Come."
; ; An exotic black figure in bright orange swept past Janeway, bringing ; with her a pleasant, flowery scent. Arachne, she'd been told the ; woman's name was. Seemed quite an odd name.
; ; "I understand you've been assigned crew quarters," Janeway began. "Do ; you find that they meet your needs?"
; ; "They are entirely acceptable. I am finding Voyager to be, in many ; ways, a diverting environment." Arachne took a step closer to ; Janeway, until their bodies were almost touching. "I wish to express ; my gratitude for your kindness in rescuing me."
; ; "We're all glad to have been able to help."
; ; "I wish to express my gratitude to you personally," Arachne continued, ; making her meaning plainer. The huge dark eyes seemed poised to ; engulf Janeway as the alien woman's arms went around her back and the ; full lips, black as Arachne's skin, pressed against hers.
; ; Janeway pulled her head back. "I'm flattered by your interest, but we ; do have certain protocols aboard this ship. As the captain, I'm not ; allowed to take sexual advantage of any person on Voyager. You're in ; an emotionally vulnerable condition right now, only days after your ; rescue. It would be unethical for any member of this crew to exploit ; your vulnerability."
; ; Arachne continued to hold Janeway, stroking her back in a gentle ; motion. "So you never allow yourself to feel pleasure? Only your ; duties are important? I understand what that is like. We have more ; in common than I had realized."
; ; This had to stop. Janeway opened her mouth to order the importunate ; woman out of her quarters, but somehow the words weren't there in her ; brain. Arachne pressed her lips to Janeway's again, her tongue ; exploring the captain's mouth with thorough fascination before it ; withdrew. Janeway felt as if she were no longer fully inhabiting her ; body, as if she were just watching herself in a dream.
; ; "Don't be frightened," Arachne purred, bending her head to kiss the ; hollow of Janeway's throat. "I've made some small changes to the ; configuration of your brain. A few nanoprobes through your pores; it ; was quite a simple matter. But don't worry, darling, I'm not planning ; to attach any cybernetic implants to your body. I find it very ; attractive as it is."
; ; Janeway stood mute and motionless, feeling neither pleasure nor fear, ; as the alien invader caressed her.
; ; "We'll have to dress you in something more suitable for that beautiful ; body," Arachne said. Without having made any conscious decision, ; Janeway found herself following Arachne to the replicator, where ; something red and sheer had just appeared. She began to undress, her ; movements slow and trancelike.
; ; Arachne smiled appreciatively as the last piece of Janeway's clothing ; fell to the floor. "But you don't need to put anything on just yet," ; she murmured, her hands lifting and stroking Janeway's breasts.
; ; A dark tongue flickered over Janeway's nipples and traced precise ; circles around her breasts. Janeway still felt as if she were outside ; herself somehow, looking at a dream-image with no consciousness or ; meaning.
; ; With a slight frown, Arachne spoke again. "This configuration lacks ; effectiveness. I'm going to have to adjust your arousal system for ; increased sensitivity."
; ; The words fell into the silence of Janeway's distant thoughts, without ; reflection.
; ; "You'll like this much better," Arachne went on, in a reassuring tone, ; as her mouth once again fastened on Janeway's nipple. A hand stroked ; the captain's thigh.
; ; Janeway felt an intense bolt of pleasure crackling through her body, ; leaving her crying out with delight, barely aware that the sounds she ; heard were her own. She clung to Arachne, whimpering as the alien ; woman's fingers slid into the open wetness between her legs and thrust ; deeply into her. Within seconds, her body convulsed into the most ; fantastic climax she could ever have imagined.
; ; *****
; ; Chakotay paced his quarters in growing irritation. The delicious ; smell of pork chops, mashed potatoes and baked apple rings on the ; candlelit table reminded him of how late Kathryn was for dinner. The ; food would probably be cold by the time she showed up. Of course, he ; could just get some more from the replicator, but that definitely ; spoiled the mood of an intimate dinner. It wasn't like Kathryn to be ; so inconsiderate. She could at least have told him she'd be late.
; ; Then he heard the door chime. About damn time, he thought, as he told ; her to come in. The door opened, and two female figures in bright, ; sheer clothing entered his quarters.
; ; Although Chakotay had seen Arachne in the corridor earlier, he had to ; blink several times before his bemused brain identified the other ; woman as Kathryn. Her face was flushed and sweaty, and she wore a ; gauzy red blouse that revealed more than it covered. It was matched ; with the billowing shape of what couldn't be anything but a pair of ; harem pants. Harem pants? On Kathryn Janeway?
; ; The next thing he noticed was that Arachne had her arm around ; Kathryn's waist and was caressing the captain's thigh. Kathryn, her ; eyes half-closed, was positively panting with excitement. And both ; women were looking at him like they'd enjoy nothing more than to make ; him a part of whatever games they'd been playing.
; ; A wide grin covered his face. This was certainly worth missing his ; dinner. He glanced from one woman's scanty costume to the other and ; observed, "I seem to be overdressed."
; ; The alien woman looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on the ; bulge at his crotch, and declared, "That is a minor flaw, easily ; corrected."
; ; And then she and Kathryn began to rip off his clothes. Literally. ; The black Borg seemed to get off on the sound of tearing fabric. A ; moment later he was completely naked, with the shreds of his clothing ; around his feet, and Arachne was on her knees sucking his dick. She ; was damn good at it, too. Another application of Borg efficiency.
; ; Kathryn whimpered incoherently and rubbed her pelvis against him like ; a bitch in heat. He could feel her wetness right through the harem ; pants. Weird as hell, but Chakotay sure wasn't complaining. He'd ; been trying to get the captain into his bed for years. Two for one ; was even better.
; ; Then Arachne pulled her head away and glanced at Kathryn, who ; immediately walked toward the couch and began to undress, without a ; word being said. Now divested of her costume, Kathryn lay down on the ; cushions with her legs spread and just looked at him as if words were ; irrelevant. Which he was quite willing to agree they were, as he ; followed her to the couch and got down to business.
; ; Arachne's hands trailed across his buttocks as he thrust into ; Kathryn's wet, yielding softness. He could feel the alien woman's ; presence inside his mind, sharing his pleasure, amplifying his ; sensations. Not that any amplification was needed. Chakotay felt as ; if he might burst with pleasure. Following Arachne's unspoken ; instructions, he reached for the black Borg and rubbed his fingers ; through the wet stickiness between her legs. Just the way she liked ; it, he could feel that. He ignored the little warning voice at the ; back of his consciousness that had started telling him: You know, ; Chakotay, you're being assimilated, this really isn't a good idea.
; ; His spirit guide definitely needed to learn when to shut up.
; ; Kathryn moaned under him, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts, her ; heart beating faster than he would have thought possible. He could ; feel her pleasure, too, in the group mind that Arachne had ; constructed. As all three of them reached an impossibly powerful ; orgasm simultaneously, Chakotay had one last individual thought.
; ; If this is assimilation, bring it on, baby.
; ; *****
; ; Seven of Nine, having entered the search parameters into the computer, ; instructed it to begin scanning for evidence of Borg communications. ; Captain Janeway had shown herself to be extremely trusting when it ; came to letting former drones stay aboard Voyager. Seven had no ; intention of behaving so imprudently.
; ; "Multiple interlink frequencies detected aboard Voyager," the computer ; responded.
; ; Seven knew there was only one possible explanation for this result. ; That woman had started to assimilate Voyager's crew.
; ; "Computer, locate the Borg female called Arachne and transport her to ; the brig."
; ; "Unable to comply. Location programs are off line. Transporters are ; unavailable. Access codes are required to restore normal function."
; ; "On whose orders?" Seven demanded.
; ; "Captain Kathryn Janeway."
; ; She had to admit that made sense, assimilating the captain first. ; Commander Chakotay was probably a drone by now, too. You couldn't ; accuse the Borg -- any Borg -- of not being logical. Speaking of ; which, she'd better get a phaser and go find Tuvok. At this hour, the ; Vulcan security chief would be in his quarters, meditating.
; ; Taking a phaser from a weapons locker, Seven adjusted it to the ; highest stun setting. In her opinion, killing the woman would have ; been much more efficient, but for some peculiar reason Starfleet ; frowned on such actions.
; ; The turbolift carried her to the corridor that led into the officers' ; quarters. Seven pressed Tuvok's door buzzer, but there was no ; response. This was quite strange, she thought. Tuvok had a precise ; and invariable routine.
; ; Her enhanced hearing picked up a low moan from within Tuvok's ; quarters, and at first she thought the security chief had been ; injured. As the sounds continued, however, Seven identified them as ; consistent with sexual activity. Vulcan physiology being what it was, ; this could only mean Arachne had reconfigured Tuvok's body to enable ; functions usually dormant. Although why a Borg would want to indulge ; in such pointless behavior was beyond Seven's understanding.
; ; In any event, it did not matter. She was on her own. It was up to ; Seven of Nine to save the crew.
; ; *****
; ; A few minutes later, B'Elanna Torres stood impatiently outside Tom ; Paris' quarters, buzzing his door chime with the same lack of ; response. They had planned to watch one of Tom's ancient and ; ridiculous television programs while munching popcorn, but for some ; reason, Tom was nowhere to be found. Unless there was a major ; emergency going on, which she doubted, Tom was going to be really ; sorry he'd stood her up.
; ; She tapped her combadge. "Torres to Paris."
; ; The computer unexpectedly answered, "Communications are off line."
; ; Great, now everyone was going to start griping at her about lack of ; proper maintenance, although Vorik had just run a routine diagnostic ; on the comm system yesterday. He hadn't found any problems at all, ; and Torres couldn't imagine what could have gone wrong so suddenly. ; Maybe Seven of Nine had decided to run another of her strange ; experimental programs without bothering to inform anyone. One of ; these days I'm going to introduce the Borg twerp to the business end ; of a Klingon pain stick, Torres thought.
; ; She turned away from the door and saw Harry Kim walking toward her ; with a peculiar grin on his face and wearing nothing but ; tropical-print shorts. He definitely looked drunk, although the ; replicators were programmed to provide synthoholic beverages, which ; couldn't intoxicate a normal human. Could be Harry had bought some ; liquor or drugs the last time they'd done some trading at a space ; station. All these years in the Delta Quadrant could erode anyone's ; Starfleet discipline.
; ; "B'Elanna, beautiful, we're having a big party in the mess hall," Kim ; informed her, with a sweeping gesture in that general direction, "and ; it just wouldn't be the same without you. Tom meant to come back here ; and tell you, but he's having so much fun, it seems to have slipped ; his mind."
; ; Right, Torres thought as she followed Kim along the corridor, we'll ; just see what slips where, soon as I get a hold of Tom Absent-minded ; Paris. He'll be targ meat for sure.
; ; *****
; ; The incredible noise coming from the mess hall could be heard ; throughout several of the surrounding decks. Seven of Nine adjusted ; the volume of her auditory sensors as she approached the doorway. At ; least the din made it less likely that she'd be noticed, Seven ; thought. The doors opened to reveal a scene that wouldn't have seemed ; out of place at a Roman orgy.
; ; More than half the crew, in a state of partial or total undress, were ; sprawled about the room on cushions and pillows. Most of them were ; engaged in an impressive variety of sexual behaviors with one another. ; Near the doorway, Tuvok and Neelix licked whipped cream and what ; looked like butterscotch syrup from one another's naked bodies. Harry ; Kim, still wearing his shorts, seemed to be having a good time ; decorating them even further with chocolate sprinkles and maraschino ; cherries.
; ; Other fruit was much in evidence, too, in a large basket on a table. ; A cucumber-shaped yellow variety seemed to be preferred for insertion ; into the not-so-private parts of several of the female participants. ; There were a few guys bending over to accept this delicious bounty, ; too. Seven's first impression was that it looked quite painful ; indeed, but B'Elanna Torres didn't seem to be complaining as she ; screamed at Tom Paris to shove it in even deeper. Paris, meanwhile, ; was being impaled in his nether orifice by a handsome young crewman ; and seemed to be enjoying it greatly.
; ; On top of a central table, Arachne and Captain Janeway were using one ; of the cucumberlike fruits as a double dildo. Chakotay, wearing boxer ; shorts with a tiger-stripe print, stood beside the table stroking the ; backs of both women.
; ; Seven of Nine took in this scene in a fraction of a second as she ; raised her phaser, took aim at the black figure on the table, and ; squeezed the trigger.
; ; Nothing happened.
; ; Arachne smiled broadly and spoke in a very cheerful tone indeed. ; "Well, if it isn't Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix ; Zero-One. Welcome to the party, my dear girl. I hope you're not too ; disappointed that you couldn't interrupt the fun with your pointless ; attempt at violence. There's a damping field in effect throughout the ; ship; all phasers are inoperative. But you didn't really want to ; shoot me, did you, Seven? You'd find it much more pleasant to come ; and join us. I know just how lonely you must have been during all ; those years as an individual."
; ; Kim took the useless phaser from Seven's hand and tossed it into a ; corner. With his other hand, he stuck half a maraschino cherry to ; Seven's cheek, just above the starlike Borg implant.
; ; "I'm really going to enjoy decorating you, sweet thing." He leered at ; her. "Maybe you can give me a cherry, too."
; ; "No, bring her to me," Arachne commanded. "After she's been ; assimilated, then you can have some fun with her."
; ; Kim took hold of Seven's right hand, and two burly crewmen came up to ; her and grabbed her left arm. She could have broken their grip ; easily, Seven knew; it was plain that Arachne hadn't given any of the ; crew Borg strength. The demented ex-drone hadn't done anything but ; amuse herself sexually. But Seven allowed herself to be led toward ; the central table, her eyes fixed steadily on Arachne's black orbs, on ; the spider at the middle of the web.
; ; Arachne, still smiling, reached for Seven's face.
; ; Yanking her hand out of Kim's grasp as if he weren't even there, Seven ; lifted her combadge from her chest and slapped it firmly on Arachne's ; shoulder, all in one smooth motion. The unmistakable shimmer of a ; transporter beam immediately surrounded the black figure, and then she ; was gone.
; ; The officers and crew, blinking as if they had just woken from a ; strange dream, looked around the room in bemusement. Janeway stared ; incredulously down at the yellow fruit, which hadn't vanished when her ; Borg partner was transported. She threw it aside in disgust, narrowly ; missing Chakotay, who ducked reflexively.
; ; "Where is she?"
; ; "In the brig," Seven declared with a satisfaction that she couldn't ; quite subdue.
; ; Janeway slid down from the table, glanced quickly around for anything ; that resembled her clothing, and finally knotted a purple towel around ; herself and headed for the door. Chakotay and Seven followed. ; Although the custody of prisoners was part of Tuvok's responsibility, ; the security chief looked far too dazed to do anything productive, as ; he stood with whipped cream and butterscotch syrup dripping from every ; part of his body. And no one else was even remotely crazy enough to ; get near the captain in her current frame of mind.
; ; Seven of Nine, walking at a brisk pace between Janeway and Chakotay, ; entered the detention area to find Arachne pacing her cell furiously.
; ; "How did you do that? I disabled all transporter functions."
; ; "You neglected to deactivate the transporters on the Delta Flyer," ; Seven informed her. "An unthinkable oversight for a Borg. Evidently ; you were too busy with your peculiar ideas of amusement to give ; thought to all logical avenues of attack."
; ; Arachne ground her teeth.
; ; "There's an uninhabited M-class planet less than five light years from ; here," Seven told the captain. "I recommend we maroon her."
; ; "A fate worse than death to a Borg." With a nod, Janeway turned to ; face the captive. "We'll give you back your transmitter, just in case ; you decide that you'd prefer to contact the Collective."
; ; "You can't do this to me," Arachne screeched. "I'm an individual."
; ; "That's what we thought when you started assimilating us."
; ; Chakotay spoke up. "Are you sure we ought to be that severe with her? ; After all, there's been no permanent harm done . . ."
; ; Janeway gave her first officer a look that would have frozen the core ; of a star, and Chakotay shut his mouth. Trying to be helpful, he ; brushed a few chocolate sprinkles from the captain's shoulder. Seven ; of Nine watched in astonishment as Janeway responded to his touch with ; a shudder and an involuntary whimper of pleasure.
; ; "Seven, you're in charge of the prisoner for now," Janeway said a few ; seconds later, when she'd gotten control of herself again. "The ; senior officers are all in need of medical attention."
; ; The captain had a definite talent for understatement, Seven thought.
; ; *****
; ; Neelix spent the whole night scrubbing every centimeter of the mess ; hall with the grim look of a man performing an exorcism, irritably ; refusing all offers of help. After he finished the cleanup, Neelix ; took a sedative and retired to his quarters, leaving the crew to fend ; for themselves when it came to meals. No one seemed to be ; particularly hungry, anyway.
; ; Tuvok reported for duty precisely on time, as always, but he didn't ; speak a word to anyone all day. Kim and Paris were also quite ; subdued, with nary a wisecrack to be heard. The bridge would have ; been completely silent if it hadn't been for Chakotay, looking very ; cheerful indeed as he began to whistle a lively tune, apparently ; unaware of his lack of proper Starfleet decorum. He finally realized ; he'd better shut up when he caught a glimpse of Janeway's foot ; swinging ominously, as if the captain would like nothing better than ; to give her first officer a good swift kick.
; ; Torres wasn't scheduled for duty, to the everlasting gratitude of her ; subordinates. She spent the day on Holodeck One, slaughtering an ; entire army of holographic Borg in hand-to-hand combat. Although time ; on the holodecks was rationed, and Torres had gone way over her ; regular allotment, no one had the balls to inform her of that fact.
; ; At the end of alpha shift, Janeway went back down to her quarters and ; changed into a plain white cotton dress. She got a bowl of tomato ; soup and some crackers from the replicator, but the soup just sat ; there on the table getting cold while she stared morosely at it. Even ; her favorite music didn't do much to improve her mood.
; ; It had probably been a mistake to go into her quarters alone, Janeway ; thought, taking a sip of lukewarm tomato soup. She just kept thinking ; about what had happened when she'd come in here to change her clothes ; yesterday. Better do something else to get her mind off it. She ; asked the computer if the holodecks were in use at the moment.
; ; And of course they were. B'Elanna's body count had to be in the ; thousands by now, and she didn't show any signs of slowing down. ; Janeway wouldn't have minded killing a few Borg, too, but there were ; times when you just had to leave a Klingon alone. Maybe she'd try ; that program after B'Elanna left the holodeck or passed out from ; exhaustion, whichever came first.
; ; In the meanwhile, Holodeck Two had just started a tropical island ; program. That would have been a good place to relax, except for the ; unfortunate fact that Chakotay was the one running the program. Just ; her luck. That beach simulation was probably crawling with ; cyber-strumpets, not to mention a Borg dominatrix in full armor who ; had turned up in one of his programs last year. She didn't even want ; to think about the bizarre content of Chakotay's sexual fantasies.
; ; The soup was too cold to eat, and she really wasn't hungry. Janeway ; decided she'd head down to Engineering and make sure that everything ; was running smoothly in B'Elanna's absence.
; ; Just as she approached the door, the chime sounded. Instead of ; inviting the visitor to come in, Janeway stepped out into the ; corridor, where she found Chakotay in shorts and sandals. He had ; beach towels over his shoulder and a picnic basket in his hand.
; ; "A tropical beach can get kind of boring when you're alone on it," he ; explained, smiling at her with a look that held altogether too much ; familiarity for her liking. "Thought you might like to spend some ; time in the sun."
; ; "Don't get any ideas, mister."
; ; He just kept on smiling at her with an expression that made it plain ; they'd already gone far beyond ideas. Which, of course, they had. ; Although half of her wanted to choke him, she had to admit the other ; stupid half was pleased that he'd started the program with her in ; mind, instead of the usual holographic babes.
; ; "All right. But we're using separate beach towels."
; ; "I already brought two." Chakotay held them up.
; ; "And I'm not wearing a bikini, either."
; ; "What you're wearing will be fine. I hadn't planned to swim, anyway, ; just to sit and listen to the sound of the waves."
; ; Janeway peered into the picnic basket, which contained chocolate chip ; cookies, synthoholic juice coolers, and of all things, several of ; those abominable yellow fruits Arachne had replicated in the mess hall ; yesterday.
; ; "And all you're going to do with that fruit is eat it."
; ; "There wasn't much else in the mess hall," Chakotay explained. ; "Arachne replicated a lot more of this fruit than she used, and it ; seemed a shame to let it go to waste. It tastes okay."
; ; Janeway's personal preference would have been to beam it all into ; space, reduced to a molecular mist, or maybe to leave it for Arachne ; to eat when they marooned her. Of course, after years of exhorting ; everyone aboard Voyager to save whatever they could, Janeway supposed ; she really couldn't complain about Neelix saving the stupid fruit. ; Although Chakotay should have known better.
; ; She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "And the Doctor has ; completely restored all of my physical functions to normal, in case ; you were wondering."
; ; "That's good." His smile broadened.
; ; "And what's more, you can just wipe that smirk off your face, right ; now, mister."
; ; "Yes ma'am," Chakotay replied, in a disgustingly submissive tone.
; ; Janeway would have liked to smack him right in the middle of that ; insolent grin, except that she had a sneaking suspicion he might enjoy ; it. She ought to just leave him here and go down to Engineering like ; she'd planned. He could go play with his holographic cuties on that ; beach of his. They'd probably like Arachne's fruit just fine.
; ; But Chakotay held out a hand to her, and she found herself taking it, ; although she couldn't have explained why.
; ; This wasn't a promise of anything at all, Janeway told herself. ; ;