chapter 25

 

 

Kathryn called Chakotay, Tuvok, and Revi into the conference room and told them about her counseling session. Tuvok thought the whole concept was fascinating. Chakotay seemed intrigued as well. Revi informed the others that the medical data sent by the Terellians indicated a well-established and safe practice, and echoed Kasha’s belief that many volunteers would actually benefit from the experience.

“But,” she cautioned, “for all her openness about the process, I think Kasha may be presenting an overly optimistic view. There are probably a significant number of people for whom the Gifting would be devastating. If a person isn’t ready to face certain memories, then having them dragged out by force is not going to be beneficial.”

Chakotay agreed with that, and Tuvok gave Kathryn a measuring look. “Captain, I’m obligated to ask you this question for your own protection, though I assure you I have no personal desire to delve into your past. Do you believe there are any memories whose display might cause you emotional harm during the Gifting?”

“Does it matter?” asked Kathryn.

“Hell yes!” Revi exploded. “What do you mean, ‘does it matter’?”

“I mean,” said Kathryn, interrupting her before she could get up a full head of steam, “that I’m doing this whether there are detrimental effects or not. So a discussion of how it may or may not affect me is moot. I’ll deal with it when it’s over.”

They all tried in turn to convince her otherwise, but Kathryn wasn’t budging on this one. To her the course was very clear, and she was merely informing her staff. After a frustrating and fruitless discussion, she called an end to the meeting.

“It’s after seventeen thirty; I suggest we call it a day. And stop looking so glum. Don’t you realize we’re going home in less than a month? Think about the big picture.”

“Captain,” said Revi, “I think I speak for all of us when I say I don’t give a tribble’s ass about the big picture. This is about you and a potentially unnecessary sacrifice. There may be others among us who could go through the Gifting with less damaging effects. I urge you to take a little more time to consider that as a possibility; I think you’d find no shortage of volunteers.”

“I concur,” said Tuvok, “though I would have chosen a different vocabulary.”

“I agree too,” Chakotay said. “And I actually think Revi’s vocabulary might be appropriate to the occasion.”

Kathryn could barely repress her smile. “Thank you for your concern and what I’m pretty sure was a veiled offer. I appreciate the first, but I’m not taking the second. And I’m not going to discuss it any further. Dismissed.”

There was a good deal of grumbling, particularly on Revi’s part, but they all filed out. Kathryn dropped her head back on her chair and sighed. She just wanted to get this over with; the efforts of her crew to convince her not to do it were actually more tiring than the dread of doing it. And now she had to go home, where a royal battle was no doubt awaiting her.

Maybe she could just sleep in her ready room tonight, and not face Lynne until after her Gifting tomorrow.

Sure, and maybe she could just snap her fingers like Q and take them all home. Lynne would hunt her down; there was no way she was going to get out of a battle tonight. She sighed again.

Go face the music, you coward.

 

 

-----

 

 

When she walked into her darkened quarters, Kathryn was partly relieved that Lynne wasn’t home yet, and partly disappointed that she’d spent all that time girding herself up only to have to wait.

“Computer, lights.” As soon as the lights came up she saw Lynne huddled on the couch, looking impossibly small as she held her knees to her chest and stared out the viewport. Kathryn crossed the room and sat next to her. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Lynne slowly turned her head. “Hi.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Shall I make something?”

“If you want it. I’m not hungry.”

Uh oh. A non-verbal Lynne is actually worse than a Lynne who’s yelling at me. Aloud, she said, “We have to talk about this.”

“Are you going to change your mind?”

“No.”

“Then there’s not much to talk about, is there? You’re going to rip yourself apart, and me right along with you, out of some mistaken notion that you have no other choice.”

“I don’t have a choice. We don’t have anything else to offer.” Kathryn tried to ease the mood with a little humor. “There’s no such thing as a free launch.”

Lynne stared at her, the blank expression on her face slowly giving way to one of anger. Kathryn knew she’d made a mistake long before the storm burst over her head.

“You think this is funny? You can actually make a fucking joke out of this? Jesus Christ, Kathryn, you have NO GODDAMNED IDEA WHAT YOU’RE DOING!” Lynne was in a full-throated rage as she uncoiled her body and leaned forward. “You saw what they did to that woman today. They took everything. Everything. Did you see her down there, trembling and shaking? She was fighting it so hard, and it didn’t matter, because they took it anyway. I know exactly how she felt. It made me sick. And it’s making me sick to hear you talking so blithely about going ahead with this. You don’t have to do it!”

Kathryn had had enough of everyone telling her what she should and shouldn’t do. “Yes, I do!” she shouted back. “I’m the one who got us stranded out here in the first place, by destroying an array just like this one, may I add. How in the hell can you expect me not to take advantage of this? It’s a goddamned free ticket, Lynne. There’s only one person paying. It’s my job, and I don’t appreciate you or anyone else telling me how to do it!”

“Well, excuse me, but I happen to have the whole fucking Starfleet Manual up here!” Lynne tapped a finger to her temple. “I can quote it to you if you like. And I can tell you with total confidence that nowhere in that Manual does it say a captain is obligated to whore herself for her ship and crew!”

“What?” Kathryn was completely taken aback. “Is that what you think?”

“No! I think it’s worse than whoring. At least a hooker is just selling her body. You’re selling your heart and soul. You’re selling everything that makes you who you are. And it’s going to kill us.”

Kathryn jumped off the couch, too furious to stay still. “Well, thank you for your support. It’s nice to know my wife thinks I’m a fucking whore because I’m doing what has to be done. This scares the hell out of me, and I thought you of all people would understand, but I guess I was wrong!”

“I DO UNDERSTAND!” Lynne’s voice was breaking. “God, Kathryn, I understand better than you do! I’ve done this, don’t you realize that? Don’t you know they’re going to rape your mind? You’re going to fight it, you won’t be able to help it, it’s just who you are. And they’ll strip your mind anyway, and it’s going to hurt. You’re so private; hell, you don’t even want me to see your memories. You can’t tell me that when you come back here tomorrow afternoon you’ll be the same person. You won’t be. And I’m not sure how we’ll recover from it.” She swiped angrily at her eyes. “Fuck. I told myself I wouldn’t cry.”

Her tears shook Kathryn out of her own anger. She sat down again and took Lynne’s hand.

“This is different, Lynne. It’s not like what the Queen did to you.”

“How do you know that?” asked Lynne, looking at her with brimming eyes. “You don’t know what the Queen did to me. I’ve never told you.”

Kathryn was startled. “Of course you’ve told me.”

“No, I haven’t. I’ve told you what I could, but that wasn’t all of it. Not by a long shot. I just can’t talk about the rest. I showed it to Revi and Seven by sheer accident, and it almost killed Revi. It was even hard for Seven. Part of me wishes I could show it to you now, so you’d see what you’re getting yourself into. Kathryn, please don’t do this.” Lynne sounded desperate.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Kathryn’s heart was breaking. “I think you’re making some assumptions based on your own experience. The Queen had you for three days, and she had a definite mission. She was after something specific, and you fought her endlessly. I can’t even imagine how hard that was for you. But I’m going down there tomorrow for a two-hour voluntary session, and nobody’s going to try to extract specific memories from me. You were fighting for fear of betraying me and everyone you loved. I won’t be in that situation. You’re right, it might be instinctive to fight just for my sense of self, but I don’t think that’s the same thing at all. And all the time I’ll know it’s just temporary. And I’ll know that when it’s done, you’ll be waiting for me. You will be, won’t you?”

Lynne surged forward and threw her arms around her. “Of course I will. I’m just scared to death of what you’ll be like when you get back. I know you, Kathryn. When you’re hurt, you retreat. And I think this is going to hurt you badly. I’m so afraid you’ll retreat from me.” She sniffed. “You already are.”

Kathryn gently pulled back to look in her eyes. “I’m not retreating. I’m right here.”

“You already said you don’t want me there. You don’t want me to see. How is that not retreating? How am I supposed to support and help you when I’m having to guess what happened and what they forced out of you? You’re already cutting me out of the picture, and it scares me, because I have a sinking feeling it’s just the beginning.”

Kathryn stared at her. Rarely had she felt so torn. She could put Lynne’s fears to rest so easily, simply by agreeing for her to take part. But she didn’t want to think of her wife in that audience, feeling every ignoble emotion she’d ever had, some of which had been directed toward Lynne herself. Even if she could get over that concept, there was one memory Kathryn could never, ever allow her to see.

She brushed her fingers over Lynne’s cheeks, wiping away the moisture. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to convince you that we’ll be all right. You’ll just have to trust me. Trust that I’ll come back to you, and that I won’t retreat.”

Lynne closed her eyes. “Kathryn, please let me go instead.”

“Oh, Lynne—”

Green eyes snapped open and bored into hers. “No. Don’t dismiss me out of hand. Listen to me. I’ve already done this once. I know what it’s like. It won’t hurt me as much as it would you. How can you break something that’s already broken?”

Kathryn felt tears coming to her own eyes. “You are not broken,” she said fiercely.

“That’s why I don’t think you understand what you’re getting into,” said Lynne. “You don’t understand that once you’ve had your mind stripped despite everything you could possibly do to stop it, something inside you breaks. There’s a security that comes from not knowing how easily you can have everything taken away. Ignorance really is bliss. I thought I was strong, Kathryn. I thought there were parts of me that nobody could reach. My body could be taken apart and stuffed full of implants, but by god my mind was my own. And then I learned that it wasn’t, and that knowledge has changed me forever. But don’t you see? That can only happen once; nobody can do it to me again. So it won’t hurt me as much to do the Gifting tomorrow. But you—” She reached out and stroked Kathryn’s face, smiling sadly. “You haven’t lost that security yet. And I’d give anything to make sure you don’t. Please let me go.”

A tear slipped past Kathryn’s control. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a wonderful expression of love,” she whispered.

Lynne nodded. “You’re worth everything. I’d do it twice over to keep you from being broken.”

Kathryn turned her head and kissed Lynne’s palm, then leaned forward and placed the gentlest, most delicate of kisses on her lips. “I love you so much,” she said hoarsely. “I don’t deserve you.”

“We can argue that one later. Just tell me you’ll let me go.”

Kathryn looked into her eyes and knew she could never let that happen. There was no way in this universe or any other that she’d allow this extraordinary woman to sacrifice herself.

“I love you too much to let you go,” she said. “I’m sorry, Lynne. I just can’t.”

Lynne stared at her, tears rolling down her cheeks as her body began to shake. “Please,” she whispered. “I’m begging you.”

Kathryn’s chest hurt, and she could barely get the words past the constriction in her throat. “Don’t beg me. I can’t bear it.”

“I don’t have anything left. Please, Kathryn. Please.” The final word was hardly even a whisper.

Kathryn shook her head, and Lynne closed her eyes in despair. “No,” she moaned. “No, god, please don’t do it.” She dropped her head and began to cry.

Feeling as if her heart had just shattered, Kathryn gathered her up and held her tightly. It was killing her to know that she was causing this pain, but she just didn’t see an alternative. Lynne couldn’t do this.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she rocked Lynne in her arms. “I can’t let you go. I love you too much. You think you can’t be broken twice, but I think you can. And I’d rather let them take me apart in front of my entire crew than have you go through that again.” A chill ran through her body as she realized what she’d just said. She held her breath, hoping Lynne hadn’t heard.

But Lynne raised her head and fixed her with an incredulous stare. “You’d rather let them take you apart in front of the whole crew, but you don’t want me to be there?”

Kathryn closed her eyes. Oh, Christ, what a disaster.

“Kathryn?”

Still she couldn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t face the expression she knew would be on Lynne’s face. God, she’d give anything in the world to take back the last five seconds. Anything.

Lynne pulled out of her arms, and Kathryn let herself slump back against the couch, her hands over her face. She absolutely did not know what to do.

Gentle hands laid hold of her wrists and tugged. Kathryn resisted, but the grip became firmer, and she knew she had to deal with this. She let Lynne pull her hands away and opened her eyes.

“There is something seriously wrong here,” said Lynne. “And you need to tell me what it is before I completely freak out. I’m right on the edge anyway. What did you mean by that?”

“It was just a figure of speech,” Kathryn said, but she knew her own reaction was going to belie that attempt.

Lynne didn’t flicker. “That’s a goddamned lie, and I can’t believe you even tried it. The truth, Kathryn. Now.”

Kathryn straightened up, determined to recover some shred of dignity. “There’s something I can’t let you see. Just one thing. Trust me when I tell you that you know everything else about me. But I have my reasons for keeping this one thing private.”

Lynne looked at her in disbelief. “Is this the same person who threatened me with the dissolution of our marriage because I wouldn’t tell her the truth about my bruises? The same person who spent our entire relationship talking about the importance of trust and honesty? Now I’m supposed to just accept that all of that apparently applies to me and not you?”

Kathryn groaned in frustration. “Lynne, please! I can’t tell you!”

“Well, isn’t that just the most wonderful irony. I seem to recall saying those exact words to you. Right before you gave me my ring back.”

Kathryn leaped up from the couch, so angry with herself that she wanted to destroy something. Lynne crossed her arms over her chest and watched as she paced back and forth, running her hand through her hair.

“You know what?” said Lynne, after Kathryn had made several passes. “Never mind. I’m going to let you have your privacy. And I’ll just mark it down as the beginning of your retreat, because I’m sure it will only get worse from here.” She stood up and walked into their bedroom.

Kathryn stared after her, shocked. Lynne was going to let her off the hook? Then she frowned as she went through the rest of the statement. “Fuck,” she said, and stalked across the living room.

Lynne had already hung up her uniform jacket and was in the act of pulling her shirt over her head. Kathryn stood in the doorway and watched as the shirt came off, exposing the shoulder implant. She narrowed her eyes, looking at that symbol she’d fought so hard to get Lynne to accept. Then she took in a sharp breath as she realized that the battle she thought she’d won was still driving a wedge between them. Until she told Lynne everything, there would be no final healing from this. She’d withheld the truth in the belief that it was necessary to save their marriage, but Lynne’s words were ringing in her ears now. She’d done exactly what Lynne had done all those months ago—she’d broken their wedding vow. And the consequences were staring her in the face.

She made her decision in an instant, and felt all of her normal command come flooding back. Calmly, she said, “It was the only way I could save you.”

Lynne turned around, holding a long-sleeved shirt. “What was?”

Kathryn walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. “The thing I couldn’t tell you. I thought I’d take this secret to my grave, because I was so afraid it might destroy us. But it looks to me as if the destruction has already begun. And you’re right, I’m doing exactly what you did and making myself into a complete hypocrite in the process. So I’m going to tell you. But before I do, I’m asking you to put aside your own point of view as you listen, and think in terms of pure strategy, not in terms of our relationship or how I feel about you.”

Lynne sat next to her, holding the shirt in her lap. “That didn’t even make the slightest bit of sense. Maybe you should just spit it out. How bad can it be?”

“Oh, pretty bad,” said Kathryn. Now that the absolute worst thing that could possibly happen had happened, she felt almost cheerful. Nowhere to go but up, right? She took a deep breath. “When I laid out my strategy for rescuing you from the Borg Queen, I knew one thing for certain: I had to behave in a different manner than you’d expect me to. Because the Queen would know everything you did.” She paused. The next part was the hard part.

“Okay,” said Lynne. “I get that. Keep going.”

“Right,” said Kathryn. “And I knew that you would expect me to come after you.”

Lynne tilted her head. “Well, yeah, I did. And you did. So far I’m not seeing the big secret.”

“No, I haven’t gotten there yet.” She couldn’t believe how difficult it was to say this out loud. “In order to outthink the Queen, I had to go against all of my normal instincts. So instead of strategizing to rescue you, I strategized to destroy her ship first, or more specifically, to set the destruction in motion with the nanoscrubbers. That was my top priority. My second priority was to destroy her. And my third priority was to rescue you.” She met Lynne’s eyes. “The honest truth is, I never expected to accomplish my third priority. I thought I’d die on that ship with you and every other drone.”

Lynne was looking at her oddly. “You went on a suicide mission after me.”

“Yes. And the reason you almost died is because I made you the third priority. Because you were regenerating when we released the nanoscrubbers into the ship’s power system. It was my own weapon that almost killed you.”

She waited, her entire body tensed in anticipation of the explosion.

Lynne scrunched her face. “I don’t get it. What in all that was so awful that you couldn’t tell me? Did you think I’d be that angry about you throwing your own life after mine?”

Kathryn gaped at her. “You don’t get it? You don’t find it at all disturbing that your wife almost killed you? And left you for a last priority?”

“Do you know how scared I was that you’d come after me? I knew you would, and I knew she was ready for you, and you’d be caught, and it was honest to god going to be the end of the world. I was the lynch pin in her plan, and it was going to work because you’d do anything to save me. When I woke up in sickbay I couldn’t believe I had my own mind back, and there you were, completely untouched. I knew you’d fooled her somehow, and now I know how. Your strategy makes perfect sense.”

Kathryn was speechless for several seconds. When she finally found her voice, she said, “You’re not hurt?”

“Kathryn,” said Lynne in a very patient voice, “you saved my life. And killed the Borg Queen. And destroyed her ship and eighteen cubes. And averted an invasion of the Federation. Where in all of that am I supposed to feel hurt? I think you’re a goddamned miracle worker.”

Kathryn let herself fall backward on the bed, her arms flung out to the sides. “Jesus fucking Christ,” she said, in perfect imitation of her wife. “I’ve turned myself inside out worrying about this.”

She felt the bed shift, and then Lynne was straddling her. She’d put the shirt on but hadn’t buttoned it up yet, and Kathryn thought she looked unbelievably sexy.

“Sometimes I think you don’t know me at all,” said Lynne. “And sometimes I think I don’t know you. I’m sorry you’ve turned yourself inside out over this, and I won’t even say anything about the elegant proof this is for trust and honesty. I’m just glad you told me, if only because it’s obviously been such a huge load on your shoulders.”

“You got that right,” muttered Kathryn. She still couldn’t believe Lynne’s reaction.

“Then let me make it totally clear. I’m not hurt, and I’m not angry, and I still love you to an absolutely frightening degree. Which is why I’m so scared about tomorrow.”

Kathryn brought her arms around Lynne’s back and pulled her down for a kiss. When they broke apart, she said, “Thank you for being you.”

“Well, not much choice there.” Lynne smiled, but it was a sad one. “Will you please reconsider?”

“About tomorrow?” Kathryn sighed. “No. I’m sorry, but this is my responsibility. I truly appreciate your offer, and I love you for making it and for trying to protect me. But you can’t protect me from this one. It’s something I have to do. And I know there are others in my crew who are perfectly capable of doing it, and might even find it easier than I will, but that’s not the point. I simply can’t ask, or even allow, anyone else to take on something that is clearly my responsibility.”

Slowly, Lynne nodded. “Okay. I know I’m not going to talk you out of it. Do you still want to go alone, or can I come now that you’ve told me your deepest, darkest secret?”

Kathryn winced. “I still want to go alone. I just…I really don’t want you to see some of my worst memories. Please understand that it has nothing to do with my love for you.” And if I’m going to be broken, I don’t want any witnesses, least of all you—because it would kill you to see it, and me to know you saw it.

The expression on Lynne’s face was one of tired resignation. “I do understand. You’re just like me when it comes to licking your wounds. Now I know why my mom hated it so much.” She pushed off and let herself flop onto her back as well. “Well, I guess we’re fucked then. I really wish you wouldn’t do this, but I know why you feel you have to. And I’ll be waiting for you in the recovery room.”

Kathryn rolled over and propped herself on her elbow. “We’re not fucked.”

“Yes, we are. This is going to change you, and it’s going to change us. I know you don’t think so, but it will.”

“Lynne—”

“No. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Not unless it’s to hear you say you’re letting me go.”

Kathryn closed her mouth and gave Lynne a look of frustration. “You know I won’t say that.”

“Then let’s just forget it for tonight.” Lynne rolled off the bed, buttoned up her shirt, and walked out of the bedroom without a backward glance.

Kathryn stayed on the bed for several minutes, recovering. Then she sighed and got up to change her own clothes.

Dinner was a silent affair, as was the rest of the evening. When they finally went to bed, Lynne spooned up behind Kathryn and held her, as she always did, but somehow it felt different. The distance was already there.

It was a long time before she could go to sleep.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 26

 

 

Seven was the first to arrive in the holodeck, which wasn’t unusual. She programmed in the Velocity game and began to warm up. But when ten minutes had passed and Lynne still hadn’t appeared, she became concerned.

“Seven of Nine to Lynne Hamilton.”

There was a long pause.

“Yeah, Seven, what’s up?”

Seven frowned. “Have you forgotten our Velocity date?”

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry. I totally forgot.”

This was highly unusual. “Do you still wish to play? We have forty-nine minutes remaining on the reservation.”

Another pause. “I’m not really feeling up to it. Would you mind if I cancelled?”

Lynne had never cancelled a Velocity date except when duty had interfered. “Not feeling up to it” was an invalid excuse, and Seven was certain she knew the real reason.

“I was looking forward to your company as much as the game,” she said truthfully. “I wish to spend time with you.”

“That’s…really sweet. But I don’t think I’m very good company right now.”

Seven had learned a great deal about Human nature in her months with Revi, particularly as they’d discussed the various times Revi had been forced to carefully maneuver around Kathryn’s reserve and her temper. If Lynne said she wasn’t good company, then it was likely that she would benefit from the support of a friend. Seven would be that friend.

“What is your location?”

“I’m in our quarters. But Seven—”

“I’m on my way,” interrupted Seven, and closed the channel. She picked up her towel, ended the program and walked out.

Lynne did not look pleased when she answered the door chime. “I said I wasn’t good company and I meant it. I don’t think you want to be here.”

“It’s not a matter of wanting,” said Seven as she brushed by Lynne and turned. “It’s a matter of friendship. You are having difficulties with Kathryn’s decision.”

Lynne’s expression hardened. “You could say that.” She walked to the kitchen table and picked up a mug. “So now that you’ve barged in here, would you like something?”

Seven joined her and set down her towel and phaser. “May I have a hot chocolate?”

Without a word, Lynne went to the replicator, came back and handed Seven a steaming mug. Then she walked over to the couch and sat, putting her booted feet up on the coffee table. Seven watched in some surprise; she knew that if Kathryn were here, Lynne would not engage in such behaviors.

“Will you be accompanying her in the Gifting?” she asked.

Lynne scowled. “No. I’ll be in the recovery room, worrying my fucking brains out.”

“Is the procedure not safe?” Revi had reviewed the medical information on the Gifting and approved it in terms of Human compatibility. But perhaps Lynne knew something that had not been included in the transmitted data.

“I guess that depends on how you define ‘safe.’ Will it hurt her physically? No. Will it tear her heart apart? Yes. Is that what you mean by ‘safe’?” Lynne’s tone was extremely sarcastic, but Seven wasn’t offended; she understood that the emotions were not directed at her. She walked to the couch and sat next to her friend, who looked at her in calm despair. “Tell me something, Seven. Why does it have to be her? Why does it always have to be her?”

“She is the captain. She feels that it’s her responsibility.”

“Don’t I know it. I actually begged her to let me go in her place last night. I practically got down on my knees. She wouldn’t do it. She’s so goddamned convinced that this is her price to pay, like it’s her redemption for seven years ago.”

“Several of the crew offered to go in her place,” said Seven. “But I would have been very surprised had she allowed it. I know her decision makes you unhappy, but it is consistent with her past behaviors and her personal ethics. It would not be possible for her to do anything else.”

Lynne made no answer, simply staring straight ahead while sipping from her mug. Seven’s enhanced senses identified the drink as Earl Grey tea. She much preferred her own hot chocolate, and took an appreciative sip while waiting patiently.

Six point three minutes went by in silence. Then Lynne took a final swallow of her tea, set the mug on the coffee table, and sat back with a sigh. “The first time I hugged her I couldn’t believe how tiny she was.” She turned to meet Seven’s gaze. “I mean, how could someone so big be so little?”

Seven thought it was a true measure of her returning humanity that such a sentence could actually make sense to her.

“She has an extremely powerful presence,” she said. “When I first saw her on the cube, I made an assumption about her strength based on her humanity and her physical size. I thought she posed no challenge to me personally or to the Borg. I do not believe I have ever been so entirely incorrect, before or since.”

Lynne smiled for the first time. “She’s amazing, isn’t she? Even after two years I’m still surprised sometimes. I wrap her up in my arms and I’m startled all over again by how small she is. I keep forgetting, because her shoulders are so broad. She takes so much on.” Her expression became serious. “But nobody knows the price she pays. Nobody sees past that captain’s mask except me, and you and Revi. They think she’s invincible, and sometimes I think she believes it too. She thinks nothing can break her. But nobody’s invincible. Nobody can take an infinite amount on their shoulders. There’s a stress point somewhere, and I’m scared to death this is it.”

Seven studied her friend’s face and saw true fear there. “Why this in particular?” she asked. “We have seen her take greater risks.”

“We’ve never seen her risking her privacy. Don’t you know how she keeps that line between the captain and the woman? By making sure the woman is protected by about fifteen different force fields. Nobody gets through unless she opens the door herself. She’s going to go to that Gifting and they’re going to rip everything she is out of her mind, and I think losing that control will change her forever. She doesn’t know what it’s like. We’re the only ones who do. She has no idea.”

Seven processed this. “You believe that because she has never been assimilated, she is unaware of the full ramifications of her decision,” she concluded.

Lynne nodded. “That’s exactly what I think. And I tried to tell her that last night, but she won’t listen. She won’t even let me be in that auditorium. If she doesn’t want me to see those memories and emotions, how do you think she’ll feel when she comes out of that Gifting and understands that thousands of Terellians have taken everything she is and made it into their daily entertainment?”

Seven found she was unable to predict Kathryn’s reaction, but Lynne saved her the trouble.

“She’s going to retreat. She’ll go back behind those fifteen force fields to lick her wounds, and I don’t think she’ll be opening the door for anyone for a long, long time. Not even me. I know her, and I know what this is going to do to her. It’s going to hurt her. A lot. And that means it’s going to hurt us.” She let her head fall back on the couch and closed her eyes.

Seven thought of and dismissed several dozen platitudes and reassurances, then rested her hand on Lynne’s shoulder and said, “If there is any way I can assist you—either of you—I will. Gladly.”

Lynne opened her eyes and gave Seven a weak smile. “Thank you. And I know you will. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish it didn’t have to be her. She has paid, and paid, and paid, and it’s just not fair. She’s not a fucking goddess, though I know most of the crew think she is. She’s not all-powerful. She’s a Human being with limitations, and in three hours and twenty minutes, I think those limitations are going to crush her. And there’s not a goddamned thing I can do about it.”

Rarely had Seven felt so dismayed and helpless. Lynne was right; Kathryn did not have all of the necessary information with which to make this decision. She was basing it on certain assumptions of her personal and mental strength, and on a belief that none of her crew should be considered as potential resources for this mission. Such a belief was false; she had three crew members who were more highly qualified due to their prior experience with sharing memories and emotions.

However, Kathryn would not reverse her decision. Seven knew her well enough by now to know when a battle was worth fighting, and this one was not.

Carefully she put her arm around Lynne’s shoulder and pulled her close. There was very little she could say, except: “I’m sorry.”

Lynne moved a bit closer, resting her head against Seven’s. “Me too.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Kathryn paced back and forth in her quarters, the nervousness forming a large and immobile ball in her stomach. The waiting had to be worse than the actual event. This was killing her. Thank god she only had another five minutes left.

She’d arranged to be transported directly to and from her quarters, expecting that after the Gifting she would be in no mood to see anyone. Lynne had agreed, and now sat on the couch watching her.

The distance between them had only increased since last night. She’d given Lynne the morning off, hoping that her wife would spend the time coming to better terms with the situation. But from what she could see, it hadn’t happened. Lynne’s expression was closed off and her body language was stiff. Kathryn thought it rather ironic that after all that had been said last night, Lynne was the one who was retreating. She could only hope that once this was all over and done with, Lynne would come around. The anticipation was hard on both of them.

“Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway.”

Kathryn stopped pacing. “Go ahead.”

“We just received a message from the Counseling Center. Your Gifting has been delayed by one tick, or thirty-four minutes.”

Damn! “Did they say why?”

“No, Captain.”

“All right. Thanks, Seven. Janeway out.” She looked at Lynne. “Great.”

Lynne opened her mouth, shut it, then shook her head and said, “It’s kind of like being in the dentist’s office when you’re a little kid, isn’t it? You know it’s going to be awful, and you’re afraid of it, but at the same time you just want to get it over with.”

Kathryn smiled, appreciating her effort to reach out. “I think that’s a dated simile, sweetheart. We don’t go to the dentist anymore.”

“And billions of children are forever grateful, I’m sure.”

Kathryn walked over and sat on the coffee table in front of her wife. “Thank you for being here for me.”

“I’ll always be here for you. You know that.”

“I do. But you’ve been distant since last night. It’s been worrying me.”

The surprise on Lynne’s face was almost comical. “I’ve been distant?”

“Yes. From the moment you gave up trying to convince me.”

Lynne furrowed her brows. “I have not. Have I?”

Kathryn nodded.

“Huh. Well, I didn’t mean to be. I’m sorry.”

“I know this is hard on you, sweetheart.” said Kathryn, lacing their fingers together. “I wish I could make it easier.”

Lynne squeezed her hand. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.”

That broke the tension, and the next half hour passed with Kathryn feeling far less stressed. She was still nervous as hell, but having Lynne with her, really with her, made it easier to bear.

A few minutes before their transport, the door chime rang.

“Come,” called Kathryn.

Revi stormed in and was instantly in Kathryn’s personal space, her face a mask of anger. “Kathryn Janeway, what the fuck were you thinking? When I said there was no shortage of volunteers to take your place, I meant me! How could you let her do it?”

Kathryn stared at her, a feeling of dread pooling at the base of her spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Revi turned white. “You didn’t send Seven?”

“Shit!” Kathryn nearly knocked her over as she raced to her terminal. “Janeway to bridge, get me the Counseling Center right now and patch it through to my quarters!”

Seconds later she was looking at a Terellian woman. “I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway. The woman in your Gifting is not supposed to be there. You need to stop the procedure, now.”

“The Gifting has already begun,” said the woman in a tone that indicated she’d heard this before. “It can’t be stopped at this point in time. The volunteer—” She checked a data pad and her eyes widened. “Kathryn Janeway?”

“That’s not Kathryn Janeway. Her name is Seven of Nine. She’s a member of my crew, and she’s doing this without my authorization. You must stop the Gifting.”

“This is highly irregular,” said the woman.

“I don’t give—” Kathryn stopped and got a hold of herself. Tearing this idiot’s head off would not help Seven. Calmly, she said, “The woman in the Gifting has not completed a counseling session, nor has she been approved. What is your procedure in that event?”

“She hasn’t been approved!” The Terellian was obviously horrified. “That’s not possible; our rules are very strict.”

“Apparently it is possible, since I’m the one who was approved, but I’m sitting here talking to you while she’s in there going through a Gifting.”

“One moment, please.” The screen went blank, and Kathryn stifled the urge to scream. She looked up at Revi and Lynne, who were hovering on the other side of her desk.

“What are you getting from her?” she asked.

Revi shook her head. “Nothing. I don’t even know how she did this without me hearing anything in her thoughts. The first I knew of it was when she was already in the Counseling Center and I heard her making the preparations. She was nervous but resolute. And a minute later our link ended. They’ve either got some kind of dampening field in the building, or else the neural interface is blocking our link.”

“Kathryn, I think this is my fault.”

She looked at Lynne in surprise. “How?”

“I told Seven how I felt about you going through with this. I, um, made it pretty clear that I thought this was a disaster and could cause a lot of damage. I forgot how protective she is of you. And that she’s brilliant enough to do something like this.” Lynne met Revi’s eyes nervously. “I’m sorry, Revi.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. You’re not responsible for Seven’s compassion.” Revi scowled. “Or her previously unsuspected deviousness.” Turning back to Kathryn, she said, “She’s making a mistake. I know she thinks she can control the neural interface and share only what she wants to, but she’s not that strong. Based on what I saw in that data packet, not even I could completely control it.”

Before Kathryn could respond, her terminal came back to life. “I’m sorry,” said the Terellian woman. “I’ve reported the situation to my superiors, and though we are all shocked that this could happen, the fact remains that we cannot stop a Gifting once it has begun. It’s medically dangerous.”

“Then I ask that you transport me and two of my crew to the Counseling Center,” said Kathryn. “We’ll need to be there to support Seven when the Gifting ends.”

“I can’t transport you directly to the Center, but I can transport you to the nearest station and have an escort bring you here.”

“Please do so. We’re ready right now.”

“Transport initiating.”

A moment later the three of them were standing in the same transport station that Kathryn and Lynne had used the previous day. Lynne looked at her worriedly. “It took fifteen minutes to get there last time.”

“I know.” Kathryn was furious with Seven for taking this on herself, and sick with worry at the same time. Judging by the expression on Revi’s face, she was feeling the same things. She touched Revi’s hand. “We’ll get her through this.”

“If I don’t kill her first,” Revi said sharply. Her expression softened. “Just get me to her, Kathryn.”

“I will.”

They heard a siren in the distance, its volume increasing as it came toward them, and a minute later the source became obvious when an official-looking hovercraft stopped in front of the transport station. The siren was suddenly cut off, a door opened, and a Terellian in uniform stepped out. “Kathryn Janeway?” he called.

She ran out the door. “I’m Kathryn Janeway.”

“Please enter. I’ll get you to the Center as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.”

The driver waited until they were all seated, then stepped in, shut the doors, and reactivated the siren. He spun the hovercraft in place and took off, going considerably faster than their escort had yesterday. Other craft scattered to the sides to give them room, and they arrived at the Center in a little over seven minutes. The woman Kathryn had previously spoken to was standing in front of the Center doors.

“Thanks for the ride,” Kathryn said to their driver. She raced up the steps with Lynne and Revi hot on her heels.

“Please come with me,” said the woman, turning and leading the way in. She walked quickly, but not nearly quickly enough as far as Kathryn was concerned. After winding through interminable lengths of hallways, she finally pulled open a door and entered an anteroom that looked similar to the one they’d been in yesterday. The outer doors closed, the inner doors opened, and Kathryn was assaulted by memories that weren’t hers. Shaking her head and determinedly separating Seven’s memories from her own, she followed the Terellian woman into the amphitheater. They were at stage level and just off to the side, out of sight of the theater seats but able to see Seven on the table.

Seven was remembering her sixth birthday. She was so excited, because her parents had set aside their studies to focus just on her. For once she was more important than those Borg out there. She basked in their attention, and clapped her hands in glee as her mother brought out a cake. There were seven candles on it, six for each of her years and one to grow on.

The scene shifted, and Kathryn instantly lost her sense of self in the intensity of this memory. She was sobbing in terror as her father shouted her name, reaching out for her but unable to move in the arms of the Borg drone that held him. Her mother was there, too, fighting desperately to escape the Borg who held her. “Annika! Run!” she screamed, and then screamed again, but this time it was a wordless shriek of pain.

She turned and ran, her heart pounding, her whole world collapsing around her. She found a console and crawled under it, trying so hard not to cry because the Borg would hear her. She curled into the tightest ball she could, making herself small; maybe they wouldn’t find her because she was so small. But then she saw the Borg drone looking at her, reaching in with his black arm, the clamp at the end of it fastening around her leg. She shrieked in pure terror, kicking and clawing, but the drone pulled her out as if she weighed nothing. She sobbed and twisted, and then there was such pain, it hurt so much—

: Seven, you’re not there. You’re okay. :

Kathryn blinked, jolted out of Seven’s memories and astonished to hear Revi’s voice in her own mind. She turned and saw Revi standing beside her, eyes tightly shut. The doctor was trembling from head to foot, and both Lynne and Kathryn instinctively put their arms around her waist.

: Revi? :

: I’m here. :

: Revi, I can’t stop it. I thought I could compartmentalize. :

: I know. But this is different. :

Kathryn heard the murmurs of the audience. Thousands of Terellians were shifting in their seats, wondering at this unexpected development.

: Seven, let go and relax. Let me do this. :

: Why are you here? :

: Because someone’s got to save your sorry ass. :

Kathryn could feel Seven’s amusement, her fear, and her love.

: You can’t do anything. :

: Yes, I can. Just let go. Trust me. :

: I’ve always trusted you. :

: Then let go. :

And Seven was no longer in Kathryn’s mind. She heard the gasps of the audience; apparently such a thing simply did not happen. The Gifting had been interrupted. But the murmurs were silenced a moment later when Revi’s voice spoke in their minds, her thoughts strong, sure, and laced with anger.

: My name is Commander Revi Sandovhar of the Federation starship Voyager. You won’t be hearing from Seven any more. If it’s horrifying memories that you want, then I’m the one you should have put on that table. I’ll be your damned entertainment for the day. :

Revi collapsed as she gave herself over to Seven’s neural interface. Kathryn and Lynne lowered her to the floor and Kathryn slipped in behind her, pointing at her legs. Gently Lynne brought Revi’s head into Kathryn’s lap, then crouched beside her.

“Is that what it’s like to hear them?” whispered Kathryn. Lynne barely had time to nod before they were swept up in Revi’s memories.

Kathryn kept her hands on her friend, hoping the physical contact might ground her. It was hard to separate herself from the memories; they were so strong and so filled with emotion. Revi had been a child who felt intensely, and as she grew to adulthood that passion never lessened; it was simply controlled and channeled. Then she had fallen in love with a Betazoid, and their shared emotions had been so much more than most Humans felt. It was a time of glorious joy, when nothing was impossible. Kathryn found herself smiling at the memories of young and optimistic passion. Revi and Steph had certainly had their problems, as any young couple did, but they had also had more than their share of a magnificent, ardent love.

But then Revi began remembering her part in the battle at Wolf 359, and Kathryn was completely lost in the intensity of it. She could no longer separate her own memories from those she was experiencing, and then she was Revi.

The red alert klaxon was sounding, the lights flashing down the corridor as she ran, one medkit in each hand. Transporters were down and sickbay had lost all power; she was reduced to offering little more than first aid to her crewmates, many of whom had horrific injuries. The extent of the devastation had shocked her into a state of suspended feeling. She had no frame of reference for this, no way to look at the big picture. Even triage was out of the question, when there was no means of knowing who or where the worst injuries were. She simply treated each person as she came upon them, and by now she had stopped looking at their faces. They were nothing more than a parade of broken bodies in Starfleet uniforms.

She came around a corner and stopped, her shock-induced numbness giving way to revulsion. There had been a hull breach here, sealed almost instantly by the automatic forcefields. But five crewmembers had been sucked out by the decompression—and then caught by the forcefields. Their bodies, neatly sliced in two, lay on the blood-soaked deck where they’d dropped. The rest of them was long gone into the depths of space.

The nausea rose in her throat and she swallowed, telling herself to keep moving. But even as she skirted their bodies, she could not take her eyes off them. One of the bodies still had an arm attached, and on that arm was a tattoo she recognized.

It was Doctor Messaline. She’d sent him down here not ten minutes ago to coordinate the triage in this section, back when they still had communications. He had died under her orders. The unending klaxon, the flashing lights, the hissing of ruptured conduits—all of that faded into silence as she stared at the man she’d sent to die.

And then she saw the red laser beam lancing over his body.

She looked up, gasping at the sight. Like every doctor in Starfleet, she’d studied everything that was known about the Borg. But none of that prepared her for the overwhelming menace in the two beings now walking down the corridor toward her. Their pace was measured, as if nothing in the universe could hinder them.

She had no weapons and was not stupid enough to try hand-to-hand. There was no shame in retreating from an enemy she had no hope of defeating. She turned to run—and found herself almost nose to nose with the Borg who stood at the corridor entrance.

Desperation made her calm. She dropped to a crouch, opening one of the medkits and grabbing a hypospray. Swiftly she loaded it with the strongest sedative she had left, then launched herself into a forward roll as the heavy black arm swooped through the space she’d just been in. She jumped up and targeted the one vulnerable place she knew of in all that horrifying body armor—the skin right beneath the jaw. The hypospray hissed, and the Borg’s single biological eye widened in surprise. She shoved past him, breaking free for the open corridor—and was jerked backward by an inexorable grip around her arm. The torque snapped a bone, but she was so adrenalized that she didn’t even feel it.

She felt it when the tubules punctured her jugular, though. That was a pain beyond bearing. She’d have screamed if she could, but the wave sweeping through her body was leaving total paralysis behind it. She could feel, but she couldn’t move.

The wave carried away everything that made her Human. Implants erupted all over her body, rapidly building the base structure of what would eventually become her full exoplating. Her arm was released, and she lifted it, clinically noting that the broken bone was already functioning normally. In a momentary blend of Human and Borg thinking, she observed that this technology would revolutionize medicine.

Then she came online. The sound of battle, of a broken and dying ship, faded beneath the never ending stream of data, observations, calculations and responses from hundreds of thousands of drones. It was perfect, unwavering order.

She gazed at the two drones beside her, then down at the third who lay at her feet.

: That drone is nonfunctional, : she thought.

: Yes. You injected him. What did the injection contain? :

As a Human, she would have said kayolene, but now she found herself sending out a mental image of the molecule itself. : It is a preoperative sedative. Fatal in large doses. His dose was two hundred cc’s, twice the fatal amount for Humans. :

She heard the information being disseminated throughout the hive mind. Adjustments were immediately begun on all alcoves within the cube, so that the next regeneration period could program each drone’s nanoprobes to neutralize this new molecule. Once all the drones on the cube had passed through a regeneration period, they would be immune to any dose of kayolene. The Collective itself was receiving the data at the same time. Within the next forty-eight hours, there would not be a Borg in the galaxy who could be affected by a dose of kayolene, no matter how large.

She felt a detached pride in such efficiency.

Now her own orders came down the link. Since she had not yet had her assimilation surgery, and lacked some of the cybernetics necessary for battle, her assignment was a simple one: to assimilate any Humans remaining on the ship. As a doctor, her knowledge in determining the viability of injured Humans was valuable. She would not waste time assimilating those who could be of no use to the Collective.

She turned and walked back the way she’d come. Once again she treated each person as she found them, except that now she was far more efficient. Instead of laboriously treating individual injuries—the limited Human method—she assimilated those who were viable, letting the nanoprobes complete the most immediate medical repairs instead. Those who were not viable were ignored. They would die on their own time.

She went through one deck after another, methodically fulfilling her assignment, until she came upon a Human whose familiarity broke through her still-new Borg mentality.

“Revi?” gasped the woman. “Oh, god, Revi, no!”

She knew this Human, holding a phaser on her with trembling hands. The data came unexpectedly, not from the hive mind but from her own memories. Steph. Her wife.

Some part of her wished to connect with this person. She opened her mouth, and said, “Resistance is futile.”

Steph sobbed and shot her, the deadly beam lancing out and impacting her torso, directly over her heart. But the hive mind had adapted to these weapons. Her personal shielding activated, dissipating the energy. She reached out.

“No!” shouted another voice, and more phaser fire came from her left. She glanced over and recognized this individual as well, but dismissed her as irrelevant. Her hand closed over the throat of the woman before her.

For a moment the newness of her Borg mind wavered, giving way to a surge of awareness from her Human self. As she watched herself assimilating the woman she loved, she honestly thought her heart should stop. Surely no Human being could survive such horror. But then, she wasn’t Human, was she? She was Borg, she was perfection, and she would make Steph the epitome of that perfection. It was the mark of a love that no longer had a place in the universe.

New orders came as she held the convulsing body against the wall, patiently waiting until the new drone could stand on her own. The battle was over and all drones were being recalled to the cube. She was still holding this last drone by the throat when they were transported to the biological extraction chamber.

Releasing the drone, she walked to the operating bay that was now hers. Assimilation surgery was an efficient use of her skills.

Not all of her patients were drones. Many captives had been brought aboard during that last transport, when there had not been time to assimilate them. Now that they were on board and contained, there was no need for an immediate assimilation. It would take place during the surgery instead, freeing the battle drones for other duties.

She watched as her friends and crewmates were brought into the room, and began her new duties. Wordlessly she cut through their limbs, drilled into their skulls, and ignored their screams of pain and pleas for mercy. But the true horror of it was that she wasn’t one hundred percent Borg. There was still a small, Human corner of her mind that recoiled in shock and revulsion at her actions. It tried desperately to stop her, to no avail, and finally all it could do was silently plead for forgiveness as she tortured and destroyed people who had trusted her.

She processed the last captive and began to work on the newly assimilated drones. One after another came through her bay, where she attached the cybernetics that were appropriate to their assignments. Each one left much improved for her efforts.

Then Steph came in. She remembered this drone as someone special, and was determined to make her as perfect as she was capable. While most drones retained two or three of their original limbs, this one would not. She would replace the vulnerable biological components with superior cybernetic ones wherever possible. It was inefficient to spend so much time on this one drone, but she made her into the pinnacle of Borg perfection. And the tiny Human part of her mind wanted to die.

There were more assimilations after that, when her cube returned to the Delta Quadrant and resumed its mission of expanding Borg space. She was in the forefront of all of them, performing one surgery after another. Always the captives were processed first, their screams silenced not by pity or mercy, but by the inexorable submission of their minds to the Collective. Pain was irrelevant.

The memories jumped to a new point in time, the moment when her ordered life was ripped apart by forces even the Borg couldn’t defend against. An electrokinetic storm destroyed so many systems on the cube that repair efforts were insufficient. Propulsion, shields and communications all failed, leaving the ship adrift in a tiny planetary system with no hope of aid from the Collective. The surviving drones accepted their fate with the same lack of emotion that had characterized their entire existence.

Until the neuroelectric field generator failed. In a single microsecond, every drone on the ship was cut off from the hive mind.

She was no longer Borg.

For just a moment, her Human self rejoiced in its freedom. But then she remembered. She remembered every atrocity she had committed, every scream she had ignored, every individual she had tortured. The worst memory of all was the crime she had perpetrated upon the body of her wife.

She had become the most brutal and abhorrent of creatures, an insult to humanity and the promises she’d once made. Though her mind was her own again, so were the terrible memories, and she thought she’d go mad from the horror of knowing what she’d done. The fact that she had survived the ship’s destruction when so many drones had not was nothing but a cosmic joke.

But she was too much of a coward to kill herself. So when the remaining ex-Borg formed a colony on the one planet in the system capable of supporting life, she joined them. It was a grim existence, but she tried to justify her sorry life by helping others. At least she was not alone in her trauma; every individual in the colony had taken part in assimilations on some level. But none of the survivors had been involved in actual assimilation surgeries, as she had. None of them heard the screams in their minds.

The colony began to fracture under the pressures of old racial hatreds, which had been suppressed by the hive mind but were now free to fester. It might not have been so bad had the environment been less hostile to life, but the lack of resources brought out the worst in the more aggressive species. She and several others formed a council, trying to bring order and peace, but it soon became apparent that not only was their peace in danger, so were their lives. The skirmishes turned into an all out war.

She could have let the others kill her. It would have been an escape. But while she was ready to die, the other peaceful colonists were not. She couldn’t leave them to die as well. So when the impossible happened, and a Starfleet officer responded to the Federation distress beacon they’d set five years ago, she brought a suggestion to the council: go back to the cube, repair the neuroelectric generator, hook it to a power source and bring it online. Its proximity to the planet meant that they would all be linked once more. With mental access to the violent colonists, they could impose a new order, one based on peace and coexistence.

The council agreed. The Starfleet officer, Commander Chakotay, agreed as well. When his ship returned for him, he took the plan to his captain—who refused. She felt it was too dangerous to reactivate a Borg cube, and she would have no part in creating a new Collective.

The council met and voted. The needs of eighty thousand colonists outweighed the ethical considerations. They used their local neuroelectric generator to bring Chakotay into their mini-hive mind, and sent him orders. He had no choice but to obey their will, and defy his captain. The cube was reactivated, its far more powerful neuroelectric generator directed toward the planet, and a new hive mind was born. They called it the Cooperative.

She hated it. Her existence had been grim before, but at least then she had been an individual. Now she was part of a hive mind once more, and no matter how hard they tried to finesse the amount of control they exerted, it didn’t matter. Her sanctuary turned into a reminder of her hell. She left, and when she realized that her voluntary exile would also result in her eventual death from cybernetic failure, she accepted it and, in a way, looked forward to it. It was a punishment that she had deserved years ago.

Instead, she met that same captain who had refused to help the colony. The captain recognized her for what she was—and by some astonishing miracle, not only didn’t judge her, but backed her up in a fight and offered her a home. She didn’t know what to think. Of course she knew all about Kathryn Janeway from Chakotay’s memories, but those memories didn’t explain the captain’s actions or her acceptance. She didn’t understand. How could a woman sworn to uphold the ideals of Starfleet and the Federation even look at the monster she’d become, much less defend and befriend her?

But Captain Janeway had already done it once, befriending the woman she was now meeting—Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One. And then it happened. Without her permission, without her even wanting it, she was in love with the most beautiful, innocent, compassionate, frighteningly intelligent woman in the entire universe. But she couldn’t be! She didn’t deserve to be loved, and she certainly didn’t deserve to be loved by this woman in particular. She fought it as long as she could, but then the flashback knocked all of her defenses down, and she was too tired and weak to fight any longer. She was in Seven’s arms, and Seven was kissing her so tentatively, as if frightened that she might not be doing the right thing. Oh, Seven, how could you not? Don’t you know how I’ve fantasized about this? But we can’t, I can’t, I don’t deserve you…

And the joy, the unrestrained joy of accepting that Seven wouldn’t take no for an answer, that she was loved, oh gods, she was loved. How was it even possible? But for once in her gods-cursed, miserable life she was going to take what she wanted, because Seven wanted it too, and their lovemaking was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. So beautiful, so fragile and yet strong, like touching a holy blessing made flesh and blood. Since her assimilation she had felt like the plaything of a particularly malevolent universe, but right now she was the most fortunate woman alive. She drank in this pleasure with the guilty knowledge that it should not be hers, but for a short, blissful while, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter that she didn’t deserve it, because Seven did. And she would do anything to make Seven happy.

Yet she was always looking over her shoulder, always afraid. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this was temporary. True happiness could never be hers; she had lost her chance at that the day she’d betrayed every shred of Human decency.

The memories shifted, and now she was in sickbay, standing stock still while a voice she’d never heard before sliced into her mind. For a moment she was paralyzed with fear. This was the voice of the Borg Queen, the architect of her life’s destruction. Even as the Queen whispered her venomous message, she was pulling her mind apart, searching for her knowledge of Kathryn, of Seven, of...Lynne.

The Queen’s pleasure at this discovery was so great that she withdrew before finishing the job. It didn’t matter. The damage had already been done. She sank to the floor, barely aware of the Doctor at her side, not hearing the words he was shouting at her. It had happened again. She had been made a vessel of betrayal. Her decision to compartmentalize the nanoscrubbers had resulted in a repeat of history, and once again she had hurt the people who trusted her. Lynne was assimilated, and Kathryn rightfully blamed her. Gods, she’d do anything, anything to fix this.

Getting Lynne back was hardly a victory. When she got her first look at the shattered remains of what had once been a vibrant, whole woman, she wanted to curl up and die. It was so familiar. She hadn’t performed the actual surgery this time, but she might as well have. She knew exactly what had been done to Lynne; had done exactly those things, so many times before. And she was solely responsible for enabling it. Another crime upon another person who had believed in her.

The surgery was eleven hours of sheer terror; knowing that if Lynne didn’t survive, Kathryn would never be the same—and neither would she. It all came down to atonement. If she could save Lynne, she could atone for at least some part of her betrayal. And Lynne lived, thank the gods she lived, but then there were days and weeks of watching her friends slowly recover from something for which she was responsible. She felt like a cancer among the crew. She didn’t deserve friendship, and she didn’t deserve love.

So it was not a surprise when she had to let Seven go. She’d always known this day would come; Seven had met someone else and it was time to do the right thing and step back. It was like cutting her heart out of her chest, and she knew the wound would never heal, but she’d done so many things wrong and now she had a chance to get it right. She loved Seven enough to give up the one thing that brought her true joy. This was her final atonement.

But it hurt. Never, ever had she hurt this badly. It would have been easier had Seven understood what she was doing; understood that it was for the best. Instead she had to bear not just the pain of giving up her love, but also the pain of knowing that she had personally hurt Seven. How could the right thing feel so terribly wrong? She had to believe that Seven would understand in the end and be grateful for her freedom; after all, she’d certainly wasted no time going back to Arrabis, had she? And though that pairing was temporary, it was only a matter of time before Seven found someone else. Someone who could give her what she needed, who wasn’t a betrayer. Who didn’t destroy everyone she loved.

She would not be there to see it, however. There were limits to what one person could stand. Kathryn didn’t know, but she was getting off at the next likely planet; she just couldn’t be on the same ship as Seven and keep breathing. Of course, without Seven there wasn’t much point in breathing anyway.

But then Kathryn came, and Lynne, and Kathryn again…talking to her, holding her, telling her they loved her, shaking up her beliefs—and suddenly the terror struck. She’d been so sure, but had she made a mistake? Had she crushed the one woman she most desperately wanted to protect? Oh, gods, had she done it again, when she was trying so hard to do the right thing?

Kathryn said she had only to open the door. She stood before a door now, her hand shaking as she pressed the chime, wondering even now if this was the right decision. She just didn’t know anymore.

Then she was on the floor, and Seven was literally tearing her clothes off, and she couldn’t believe that she’d been given yet another chance at salvation. Soft breasts filled her hands, a warm body covered hers, and she was coming home. Seven asked for nothing more than two promises. Just two promises to redeem all the pain she’d caused.

Gods, yes, I’ll marry you. No, I’ll never leave again.

They were easy promises to make. She knew she’d never again have the strength to leave. It was not that she believed in forever; she’d seen too much to cling to that sort of fantasy. But if there was leaving to be done, Seven would have to do it. And in the meantime, she would hold on to this happiness with both hands. Of course she didn’t deserve it, but Seven deserved whatever she wanted, and if that was a damaged, soul-weary woman like her, then by the gods she couldn’t complain. Besides, when Seven loved her, her soul didn’t feel so weary any more. She had wings; she could fly. Her past no longer mattered, because it didn’t matter to Seven. She was the woman Seven loved.

This was magical enough. She’d never dreamed that further redemption was possible. But then she linked up with Lynne, and for the first time knew the truth of her friend’s mind. She fought it, because it couldn’t be true, nobody could forgive her for what she’d done, but there was no denying the emotions in Lynne’s mind. And Lynne was asking for her forgiveness? She couldn’t comprehend it. But it was real.

Slowly, over a period of months, she began to climb out of her hell for the second time. And always Seven was there, loving her, accepting her, never once showing her anything but the purest, most honest truth. She was the woman Seven loved.

The memories ended.

Kathryn came back to herself with an abruptness that was disorienting. It took her several seconds to adjust to the fact that she wasn’t Revi, that she hadn’t lived this life. But she still had the memories, and she could still feel the intensity of the emotions. Jesus, how had Revi even functioned? How had she been the capable doctor and loving friend that Kathryn knew her to be? How could there be so much pain in a single heart? And yet…that love, the love she could still feel…it was indescribable. It was everything she and Lynne had, with the added dimension of their interlink. It was, she now understood, the only thing that could have saved Revi.

She looked down at her friend. Revi’s face was tense and her body was trembling from the effort of fighting the neural interface. Then her voice came back into Kathryn’s mind, once again confident and commanding.

: My name is Revi Sandovhar, and I exist because Seven of Nine loves me. I’m living proof that happiness has nothing to do with being deserving, but I will spend the rest of my life working to deserve her love. Which is why I couldn’t let you take her memories. You’ve seen mine instead, and I hope you got what you wanted. Now take that fucking interface off her; you’ll get no more from either of us. :

The amphitheater was utterly silent. The audience wasn’t leaving. Then a low rumbling began, swelling into a huge roar of sound. Kathryn had no idea what it could be. Two blue-coated Terellians hurried past her and onto the stage; one of them reached out to Seven’s forehead and deactivated the neural interface. Instantly Revi’s body went completely boneless, her face relaxing into unconsciousness.

Seven was being wheeled back toward them, and a Terellian male crouched next to Kathryn. “Let us take her,” he said, indicating Revi. He had to speak loudly to be heard over the noise from the amphitheater.

“No.” Kathryn crossed her arms over Revi’s chest protectively; she would not allow Revi to be moved by anyone but her or Lynne.

Lynne stood up, stepped over Revi’s body and hauled the surprised man up by his armpits. “Stay away from her,” she growled. The man took a step back and held up his hands.

“We’re not going to hurt her! We’re just going to take her to the recovery room.”

“Where is it?” asked Kathryn.

“Right through that door. They’re taking your friend there.” They watched as the table was pushed toward the door, Seven looking small and defenseless in her unconscious state. Kathryn met Lynne’s eyes and gave her a short nod, and Lynne immediately went after Seven. They both vanished through the door.

“Captain Janeway!” She looked up at the familiar voice. Kasha Voranna was hurrying toward her. “How did this happen?”

“You tell me,” said Kathryn. She wasn’t feeling terribly diplomatic, not with Revi unconscious in her lap. “I thought you said you had identity verification procedures.”

“Of course we do. I checked with the Gifting Admission center; Seven of Nine scanned as you.” Kasha motioned the man over. “Take her to the recovery room.”

“I tried,” he said. “She wouldn’t let me.”

“Captain Janeway, we only wish to make her comfortable.” She bent over to look at Revi more closely. “She’s a unique individual. I’ve never experienced anything like that. People will be talking about today’s Gifting for a long, long time.”

Kathryn saw Lynne come back through the door, and knew by the expression on her face that all was well. The noise from the amphitheater was dying down and people were leaving, thank god. She’d been worried that they hadn’t accepted Revi’s ending of the Gifting on her own terms, and were waiting for more.

“It’s okay,” Lynne said when she arrived. “I checked her out and her life signs are normal. She’s exhibiting the symptoms the data packet told us to expect, and they seem to be taking good care of her.”

“Well, of course we are!” Kasha sounded offended. “She’s a volunteer, even if she wasn’t approved. What she did was foolish but very courageous.”

Lynne crouched down and ran her medical tricorder over Revi, then looked up and nodded at Kathryn. “She’s showing the same symptoms, though her blood pressure is lower and her engrammatic activity is a little more chaotic.” She put away the tricorder and slid her hands under Revi’s body. “Get her head?”

Kathryn nodded and rose along with her, holding Revi’s head and helping Lynne to arrange her so that she was being comfortably cradled. They walked to the recovery room, leaving the Terellians to follow along behind.

The room held several beds of different shapes and styles, designed for different species. Seven had been moved onto one and a blanket tucked around her body. Her golden hair was loose and shining against the dark pillow, and Kathryn’s heart clenched to see her looking so vulnerable.

Lynne carried Revi to a bed near Seven’s and carefully laid her on it, with Kathryn assisting to make sure her head didn’t roll back. Before she could even turn around a Terellian male had handed her a blanket. She thanked him with a nod as she and Lynne covered Revi up to her chin. She stood next to the bed, her hand on Revi’s shoulder, and returned her attention to Kasha.

“Have we fulfilled our obligation?” she asked.

Kasha nodded. “It certainly wasn’t the normal procedure, but your people have given us a Gifting for the ages. I told you during your counseling session that the emotion I most enjoyed in a Gifting was love, and that’s true of most Terellians. I’ve seen many, many Giftings in my life, but never anything like this. Revi’s story will no doubt be fully public by tomorrow. Everyone who attended this Gifting will be talking about it, and I expect our planetary news bureau will wish to speak with her.”

“They can send the request to me,” said Kathryn. “I’ll pass it on, but don’t be surprised if she wants nothing more to do with this. What she just shared was, for my people, extremely private.”

“I understand.” Kasha approached Revi’s bed and looked into her face. “She’s extraordinary. We were all greatly honored to witness her Gifting. Would it…” She hesitated, showing a shyness that had not been apparent in their previous meeting. “Would it be possible for me to meet her once she regains consciousness? It would mean so much to me.”

Kathryn opened her mouth to say no, but suddenly remembered yesterday’s conversation, when Kasha had spoken of the relief many volunteers felt in not being judged.

“I’ll ask her,” she said. “But in the meantime I’d appreciate it if we were given our privacy.”

“Of course,” said Kasha. “I’ll be outside.” She turned to leave, but Kathryn stopped her.

“Kasha—why didn’t the audience leave right away, like they did for the Gifting you took us to? And what was that noise?”

Kasha gave her a look of surprise. “They didn’t leave because they were stunned by the experience. I doubt anyone in that audience will ever forget this. And the sound was their applause.”

“It was? How do you applaud?”

“We stomp our feet.” Kasha smiled warmly. “And we rarely applaud a Gifting. That’s usually reserved for other cultural events, such as storytelling or concerts. But it was appropriate today.” She bowed in farewell and left, shooing out the attendants and closing the door behind her.

Kathryn looked at Lynne, who was holding Seven’s hand. “Had you seen any of this?” she asked, motioning toward Revi.

“Some of it,” said Lynne. “She’s shown me bits and pieces when we’ve linked. At first it was like pulling teeth, but she’s gotten more open with me lately. But this—Jesus, it was shocking. I’m still feeling it.”

“So am I.” She smoothed Revi’s hair off her face. “She’s told me about all of it, but living it was…well, it was like the difference between two dimensions and three.” She let her hand rest on Revi’s shoulder and watched the peaceful features. “If I ever get impatient with her again, would you just slap me?”

Lynne chuckled. “Not a chance; you’d slap me back. Besides, Revi’s told me how much she appreciates the fact that you give as good as you get. I think she’d be pissed off and probably hurt if you let this change things.”

Kathryn nodded. “You’re right. But it might be hard not to. I can’t help but see her differently. I always respected so many things about her, but now…now I need a different word, because ‘respect’ isn’t good enough. I’m a little in awe of her.”

“Me too,” said Lynne. “But then I was kind of in awe of her from the beginning. Our introduction was a bit out of the ordinary.”

Smoothing Revi’s hair again, Kathryn asked, “Did you know she was planning to leave?”

“I had no idea. That surprised me, too. God, I’m glad we got to her in time. You know she wouldn’t have survived.”

“No,” said Kathryn. “Nor did she want to. I don’t think I ever fully realized how fine the line between living and dying is for her. She said she exists because of Seven’s love. She meant that literally.”

Lynne looked closely at Seven. “She just squeezed my hand. I think she’s coming around.”

They waited, and a few minutes later Seven’s eyes blinked open. “Lynne. Thank you for coming.”

“Jesus god, you think I’d be anywhere else? You scared the holy hell out of us, you know. Especially Revi.”

“That was not my intention.” Her eyes widened. “Is Revi—”

“She’s fine,” interrupted Kathryn. “All her life signs checked out, and I’m sure she’ll come out of it soon.”

Seven turned her head at the sound of Kathryn’s voice. Her gaze fell on Revi first, and a small, sad smile appeared. Then she raised her eyes, and the smile vanished.

“Kathryn,” she said softly, “I’m sorry I deceived you.”

The expression on her face went straight to Kathryn’s heart. She looked at her friend, long and hard, and finally shook her head.

“Deceived me, left the ship without authorization, impersonated a Starfleet officer—a captain, no less—and last but not least, scared me half to death. What am I going to do with you? One minute I’m pinning the Starfleet Citation for Valor to your uniform, and the next I’m looking at a laundry list of broken regulations and one genuine punishable crime.”

Seven was unfazed. “Do what you feel is necessary. I’m prepared to face the consequences of my actions.”

Kathryn stepped over to her bed. “Can you sit up?”

“I believe so.” Seven pushed the blanket back and sat up, her hair hanging loose around her shoulders.

“In that case, I’m going to do what I feel is necessary.” She slipped her arms around Seven’s torso and pulled her in for a gentle hug. For a moment the body in her arms was stiff with surprise, but then Seven wrapped her up and squeezed, her relief obvious.

“Does this mean you’re not angry?”

Kathryn held her tighter. “I’m very angry that you did this knowing it was against my wishes. But your motives were beyond reproach, and I will never forget the fact that you sacrificed yourself for me. Frankly, I don’t know how the hell I’m going to write up the report on this one. I don’t want to punish you, but impersonating a Starfleet officer is going to be hard to get around.”

Seven pulled back to look at her. “I didn’t impersonate a Starfleet officer. I impersonated you.”

“Did that neural interface fry a synapse or two? The last time I looked, I was a Starfleet officer.”

“I realize that,” said Seven patiently. “But I did not identify myself as Captain Janeway. I identified myself as Kathryn Janeway. Nor did I wear your uniform or your pips.”

Lynne snorted, then laughed outright. “She’s got you there, Kathryn.”

A smart-ass comment like that needed a quick and scathing response—except that it was true. Kathryn shook her head ruefully and asked, “How did you do it? Kasha said you scanned as me.”

“I modified a Borg band to emit your biosigns.”

She stared. In just a few hours, Seven had invented a means of fooling genetic scanners. Starfleet Intelligence was going to fall all over itself to get a hold of this one.

“I see,” she said. “I want a full report, complete with schematics of your modifications. And unless Revi or the Doctor say otherwise, you’re not off duty until that report is on my desk. Understood?”

Seven’s eyes widened slightly. “Understood, Captain.”

“Good.” Kathryn softened her voice. “In the meantime—thank you. I’m truly honored and humbled by your sacrifice.”

“My attempted sacrifice,” Seven corrected. “I didn’t proceed very far.”

“It’s the thought that counts. You went in there thinking that once the Gifting started, nothing could stop it. Right?”

“Yes, but I was obviously in error.” Seven’s face lit up a half second before Kathryn heard a groggy voice from behind her.

“Only because I’m even more of an idiot than you are.”

Seven leaped off her bed before Kathryn could even blink. “Revi! Are you all right?” She covered Revi’s face in soft kisses, ending with one on her lips. Kathryn and Lynne, who had moved to the bed moments after Seven, tried to look elsewhere.

Revi pulled herself upright. “Besides the massive headache, yeah, I’m all right.”

Seven turned to Kathryn worriedly. “We must get her back to the ship as soon as possible.”

“I said I’m all right, Seven. It’s not a big deal.”

“A headache can be symptomatic of something far more dangerous, and you were under the influence of a neural interface for one point seven hours.” Seven’s voice was stern. “The fact that I don’t have a headache and you do is reason for concern. You cannot be certain it’s nothing serious until the Doctor examines you.”

“Don’t I get points for being a doctor, too?”

“No.”

Revi looked at Kathryn in helpless appeal. “Kathryn…”

“I know better than to stand in Seven’s way,” said Kathryn, smiling. “Especially when it concerns your well-being.” She turned to Seven. “However, we have no means of transporting to Voyager from here, and you know it’s a fifteen-minute hovercraft drive to the transport center. I think Revi might benefit from resting for a while before trying to travel that distance.”

Revi gave her a grateful look while Seven frowned. “You are correct, Kathryn. We will wait.” She picked up Revi’s hand, kissed the palm and held it to her cheek. “Thank you for protecting me. I was…distressed to find that I couldn’t control the interface.”

Revi stroked her cheek and smiled sadly. “You’re good, Seven, but you haven’t had the years of experience that I have. And it took everything I had to break through that thing. But nothing was going to keep me away from you.”

“Not even respecting my decision?”

“You mean the way you respected Kathryn’s?”

Seven actually looked abashed, and Kathryn stepped in. “I think it’s safe to say that everyone here had someone else’s best interests at heart. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”

Revi met her eyes, and Kathryn saw the first flicker of fear and shame. Oh, no you don’t.

“Revi,” she said intently, “that was one of the most selfless acts of courage and love that I have ever been privileged to see. I respect and admire you, and after living your life I have to say that I’m absolutely awed by your strength.”

Revi stared at her. “How can you say that even now?” she whispered.

Kathryn leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, then spoke softly into her ear. “Because now I know everything. I love you, and I’m so grateful that you came into our lives.” She pulled back slightly and smiled. “And Seven knows a good thing when she’s got one.”

“I do,” said Seven. “Revi, you don’t fly because of me. We fly because of each other. It requires both of us.”

Revi gave them both a tremulous smile. “Thank you.”

“And I’m proud and honored to have you for a friend,” said Lynne. “Even if I’m pissed at you for managing to do what I was trying to do.”

Revi laughed at that, and Kathryn was relieved to see her relax. They told her about the Terellians’ reaction to her Gifting, and Lynne teased her about being a celebrity—which reminded Kathryn about Kasha.

“Revi, the woman who counseled me is waiting outside. She asked if she could meet you; she said it would mean a great deal to her.” She looked at Lynne. “Was it only yesterday we met with her? It seems so long ago. I used to have authority then.”

“Oh, you still have authority, Kathryn. Except when Seven decides you don’t.”

They all laughed except Seven, who appeared quite uncomfortable for a moment. Then she brightened as she glanced at Revi. “I believed Lynne was serious.”

“She was,” said Kathryn dryly. She looked Revi over with a critical eye. The doctor’s color was improved and she seemed to be feeling better. “Are you up for a visitor? Or shall I tell her to go away?”

Revi frowned. “Why does she want to see me? Didn’t she get enough out there? Or does she want a closer look at—”

“Don’t say that,” Kathryn interrupted. “She wants to meet you because she thinks you’re extraordinary. She said they were greatly honored to witness your Gifting.”

Several expressions ghosted across Revi’s face before she nodded. “Sure, I’ll talk to her. I’ve got a few questions about this whole Gifting concept, anyway.”

“I’ll get her.” Kathryn went to the door and found Kasha leaning against the wall. The Terellian looked up eagerly.

“She’s awake,” said Kathryn, “and she’s agreed to meet with you.”

Kasha gave Kathryn the biggest smile she’d seen in their acquaintance. “That’s wonderful! Thank you!”

She followed Kathryn into the room and stopped in front of Revi’s bed. “Commander Revi Sandovhar,” she said formally, then tapped her foot twice and bowed her head.

Revi looked at her in confusion. “Yes?” she prompted, when Kasha showed no sign of further movement.

Kasha raised her head. “Thank you for speaking with me. My name is Kasha Voranna, and I wanted to express my gratitude to you for Gifting us. Your story is one I will be telling my children.” She looked wistful. “You are so fortunate; so rich in your emotions. You’ve had a spectacular life.”

“I’m fortunate?” Revi was incredulous. “Did you go to the same Gifting I did?”

Kasha’s brow furrowed. “Of course. Why do you question me?”

It took Revi a second or two to recover her power of speech. “From the moment of my assimilation, that ‘spectacular life’ you think I’ve lived has only been worth living for the last thirteen months. And not even all of that.”

“Because of what you did as a Borg.”

“Yes!”

Kasha regarded her intently. “I can’t feel what you do, except in the Gifting. But because of the Gifting, I’ve felt the emotions of thousands of individuals of many different species. I know a lot about them, and there are certain constants regardless of species. One of those is that strong positive emotions are not possible without strong negative ones to balance them and give them definition. An individual who has not felt great pain or grief will not feel great joy, either. He or she may believe that the joy is tremendous, but I know better because I have the experience of greater joys with which to compare it. You have experienced grief at a level that most do not. But your love for Seven, and the happiness you feel in that joining, is also at a level that most do not experience.”

Revi plainly had never considered this. She stared at Kasha without speaking, and the Terellian took that as an invitation to continue.

“I know, from what you shared, that you have often felt your life was not worth living. But to end such an incredible existence would be a crime. Do you know what I would give to feel the things you do? You probably think my life is preferable, because I can’t feel the kind of pain that you do—but neither can I feel the love and the happiness. Not at that level. I would gladly accept the one in order to have the joy of the other. To me it would be an acceptable price to pay; it’s simply a balance. I’m in awe of you for the richness of the emotions you experience. And the strength you showed in wrapping your own neural pattern around Seven’s is unprecedented in our history.” She smiled. “Giftings are very seldom interrupted, and never has it happened in quite this manner. For you to offer your own memories in exchange for hers, even though you are so ashamed of them—such a love was a privilege to experience. I doubt I will feel its like for a long time to come.”

Revi had recovered her voice. “You have an unusual view of emotions.”

“They are not unusual to me or most Terellians. We simply see a broader range of them than most individuals do. And perhaps it is in our nature to want that which we cannot have, but I envy you, Revi Sandovhar. And I’m honored to have been present for your Gifting.”

“You’re welcome,” said Revi, who appeared a bit dazed.

Kathryn smiled to herself. Revi knew how to handle hatred and fear, but Kasha’s honest admiration had left her completely at sea. Perhaps this whole mess had worked out for the best.

“Revi,” she said gently, “how’s your headache?”

Revi looked up at her, the confusion still apparent in her face. “It’s…better.”

“Do you feel able to move?”

“Are you asking if I’m ready to go back?” Kathryn nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“Let me escort you outside,” said Kasha. “We have a hovercraft waiting for you.”

Seven helped Revi off the bed and wrapped a protective arm around her waist. Kathryn was reasonably sure that Revi could walk quite well on her own, but she understood Seven’s need to be there. She led the way to the door and waited while the others proceeded through it. Lynne paused beside her and Kathryn briefly brushed her hand, then followed her friends into the corridor.

“This isn’t just entertainment for you, is it?” Revi was asking.

“Not for me,” said Kasha. “I’ll admit that it is for some Terellians, but for most of us, a Gifting is just that, a gift. It’s an opportunity to feel things that we would otherwise never feel. It’s a glimpse into a kind of existence that we’ll never have on our own.”

“But doesn’t that just breed dissatisfaction? Wouldn’t you be happier not knowing what you’re missing?” Revi shook her head. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Would you be happier if you were blind?” asked Kasha. “Or would it give you more pleasure to see things of beauty, even if you could never touch them?”

“Are you seriously saying that people’s fears and grief and pain are things of beauty?”

“All deeply-held emotions have beauty. And they don’t stand alone. With fear can come courage. Grief and pain can be balanced by the greatest joy.”

Revi stopped walking, and the others stopped with her. She gave Kasha a measuring look, then said, “When you came into the recovery room, you did something like this.” She tapped her foot twice and bent her head briefly. “What was that?”

“That’s our custom for expressing respect. The longer we keep our head down, the greater the respect.”

“But you didn’t raise your head until I spoke to you.”

Kasha nodded. “We do that for those individuals for whom we feel the greatest respect. I was honored that you agreed to meet with me.”

Revi stared at her for several seconds, then held out her hand. “In our culture, clasping hands is a gesture of respect.”

Hesitantly, Kasha took her hand. Revi covered it with her clamp and said, “You’re far from blind. You see more clearly than almost anyone I’ve ever met. If you’re representative of your culture, then I’d say Terellians are a very remarkable race. And I’m ashamed to admit that I prejudged you—but I’m happy to see I was wrong.”

Kasha gave her a brilliant smile. “Thank you. That means a great deal.”

They looked into each other’s faces for a few moments before Revi released her hand and began walking again.

Lynne leaned into Kathryn and whispered, “Am I imagining things, or did something big just happen here?”

“You’re not imagining things,” Kathryn murmured. “I think Revi just got one of the biggest surprises of her life. She expected an amphitheater full of judges.”

Lynne nodded as they trailed a few paces behind the others. “And instead she found respect. You know what? I think I may have misjudged these people, too.”

They hurried to catch up as Kasha went through a door, then followed her through a maze of hallways before she opened another door. Sunlight streamed through, almost unbearable after the less brightly lit corridors.

“Your transport is at the bottom—” Kasha stopped. “Oh.”

“What is it?” Revi went through the door and stopped as well.

The other women joined her, each one staring in astonishment when she saw the hundreds of Terellians lining the stairs, all looking up at them.

“There she is!” someone shouted. Lynne and Seven instantly put themselves between Revi and the crowd.

“Is there another place we can pick up our transport?” Kathryn asked quietly. But before Kasha could answer, they were all distracted by the loud rumble of hundreds of feet being stamped on the ground. Then every Terellian on the stairs bowed his or her head.

“Jesus, Revi, they’re fans,” said Lynne. She stepped aside. “They just want to see you.”

Revi moved forward, her eyes the size of saucers. The Terellians raised their heads and shifted in place with a low rustle of fabric. None of them broke ranks; nobody tried to rush up the stairs or get closer to her. They simply stood there, looking up at her, and all of them were smiling.

“This has never happened at a Gifting before,” marveled Kasha. “They’re treating her like a holron, a popular musician or storyteller.”

Revi walked down the first few steps, drawing abreast of the closest Terellians. Seven, Lynne and Kathryn were close behind, ready to protect her should anything untoward happen. Kasha followed a few paces back.

“Thank you,” said an older man as Revi came near. “I have been to many Giftings in my years, but never anything like that.”

“Yes, thank you,” murmured dozens of voices. “You honor us,” said many others.

Revi nodded at them. “You’re welcome,” she said, and Kathryn knew from her tone of voice that she was utterly overwhelmed. As they slowly made their way down the stairs, the Terellians they passed thanked Revi repeatedly. Some offered her the respectful salute again, bowing their heads until she had moved past them. Near the bottom, a very old woman held out her hand. Revi stopped and took it in her own.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, child,” said the woman, looking at Revi with eyes that were no less piercing for the many wrinkles surrounding them. She held out her other hand toward Seven, who stepped up and took it. “You both have such a great love, and you have overcome so much to find it.” The violet eyes returned to Revi. “Revi Sandovhar, if you were to let this love go again, it would be a crime against both yourself and Seven—and all of us who will never feel anything so remarkable.”

“I…I won’t,” whispered Revi. “I can’t.”

“Good,” said the woman. She put Revi’s and Seven’s hands together, then clasped them in both of her own. “You are truly blessed.”

“Thank you,” they said. When the woman pulled her hands back, Revi clutched Seven’s and didn’t let go as they made their way down the last few steps to the hovercraft, ducked under the doorframe and stepped inside. Lynne followed them in, and Kathryn paused at the entrance, looking back up at the watching crowd.

“Kasha,” she said at last, “I think the honor was ours. You and your people have given Revi a gift that will make a world of difference to her.”

“Then I’m glad,” said Kasha. “Safe travels, Captain Janeway.”

“Thank you, Kasha.” Kathryn put out her hand and clasped Kasha’s briefly, then ducked into the hovercraft. “We’re ready,” she told the driver, and discreetly averted her eyes from the couple in the back seat. Revi was curled up in Seven’s arms, crying softly, and Seven was rubbing her back and whispering to her.

Lynne reached across the seat and intertwined her fingers with Kathryn’s. They smiled at each other, then faced forward to watch the scenery as the hovercraft left the Counseling Center behind.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 27

 

 

“Are you sure, Revi? You could be a celebrity,” said Kathryn, eyeing her friend over her cup of coffee.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Mm hm.” She sipped her coffee, put the cup down and let her smile break through. “Of course I am. When I go down there for our negotiations, it takes us half an hour to even get around to business. They don’t want to talk about what the Federation has to trade. They want to talk about you. Do I know you, what’s it like to work with you, is that kind of love normal among my people—I can’t get them to focus on the trade treaty.”

Revi smiled back, and Kathryn thought once again that she’d never looked so lovely. The Gifting had taken place four days ago, and what she had feared and dreaded as a potentially damaging trial for herself had turned into an affirming and completely life-altering event for Revi. Once they’d returned to Voyager, Revi had asked for a week’s leave, which Kathryn had been only too happy to approve. She hadn’t seen her friend since, though Seven had given her updates, and when Revi had walked in her ready room today “just to chat,” she’d been stunned at her appearance.

In the short time since the Gifting, Revi had undergone a dramatic transformation. She looked younger, her smile seemed permanent, and her eyes sparkled. Her attitude was completely different, too—the edginess that had always been a part of her personality was toned down. She was relaxed and happy. Kathryn paused at the thought and repeated it to herself just for the sheer pleasure of it.

Revi is happy.

“I’m glad my star status is enriching your negotiations,” said Revi, setting her own cup on the coffee table, “but I have no intention of doing a repeat Gifting. Once was definitely enough.”

“All right,” said Kathryn, thoroughly enjoying herself, “what about the requests for interviews? I must have forwarded sixteen of them to your personal terminal. Kasha said that all of the biggest news bureaus are competing with each other for the first interview; hell, you could name your price.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Personally, I think you should run for office. I heard the Prime Minister wasn’t doing too well in the polls. Now might be a good time.”

Revi laughed. “You are loving this. Sorry, I have no desire to become the darling of the Terellian culture. Celebrity status is so fleeting, don’t you know.” She twirled a lock of hair around her finger and let it drop.

“You look beautiful,” Kathryn said warmly.

A startled expression crossed Revi’s face, followed quickly by one of pleasure. “Thank you. That means something coming from you. I’ve always thought you were the second most stunning woman on this ship.”

“Well, I can tell Seven’s listening in,” teased Kathryn.

“I was talking about Lynne.”

Kathryn was surprised, then saw Revi’s quirked eyebrow and knew she’d been had. “I’ll never argue with that,” she said. “But truly, you look amazing. I thought you were gorgeous when I first met you, but that’s nothing compared to now. Something has changed.”

Revi became completely serious. “Something has changed, Kathryn. It sounds trite, but I’m not the same person who went down to Terellia in a state of total panic four days ago. I was so afraid for Seven, and all I could think about was that I had to save her somehow. I couldn’t let her go through with it. Now that I’ve experienced it, I don’t think it would have been so bad if she had done it. She’s shared all of her memories with me, and we’ve worked through a lot of them together. But at the time I thought the Gifting would be so impersonal, so invasive—I thought it would make a mockery out of her deepest emotions by turning them into entertainment. Thank the gods, it wasn’t like that. I can’t say it was pleasant when I went through it—that neural interface didn’t just display my memories, it actually pulled them out of me. I only just managed to guide the process, and I don't believe anyone without years of experience in mental sharing and thought organization could have even done that much. I think the Gifting would be devastating for a person who had memories they had repressed or didn’t want to face. But I’ve already shown Seven all of that, so I just pretended that I was showing her again. And then afterwards…”

She stopped, cleared her throat, and tried again. “It’s hard for me to talk about it even now. When I realized that all those people were waiting to see me because they thought I was special—gods. I can’t even describe it. I expected a lynch mob. I mean, they knew. They knew everything. And they bowed to me.” She stopped again and wiped her eyes.

Kathryn put a hand on her knee. “You don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay. These are good tears. I’ve shed a lot of them in the last four days, and I thought I was done, but I guess not.” She laughed shakily. “That was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. They didn’t care what I was. They knew and they didn’t care. And then that woman at the bottom of the stairs…she looked at me like my grandmother used to, when I was a little girl. Like she could see right through me, and knew more about me than I ever would. When she put Seven’s and my hands together, it was like a benediction. It was like she was marrying us. It was…” She raised her hand and let it drop in a helpless gesture. “Simply amazing. Life changing. It was like a wall came crashing down in my head, and I looked at Seven and I believed her. I believe her, Kathryn. I don’t think she’s going to leave me.”

Impulsively, Kathryn leaned forward and scooped her into a hug. “God, I’m so happy for you. This is wonderful!”

“I know,” said Revi, and Kathryn could actually hear the joy in her voice. She pulled away just far enough to look into her eyes.

“Seven’s smarter than you ever gave her credit for,” she said. “She knows what she needs. And that’s you. It always has been.”

“No, not always. She needed you first. You got her to a point in her emotional development where she was ready for me.” Revi let go and settled back. “Then I had to catch up, because I wasn’t ready for her.”

“So are you both on the same page now?”

Revi’s smile was blinding. “Oh, believe me, we’re on the same page.”

“I don’t think I need to know any more,” said Kathryn dryly.

Impossibly, the smile got even wider. “What’s wrong, Kathryn, you don’t want to hear about us breaking our orgasm record? What was it, an even dozen in twenty-four hours, or did we get it to thirteen?”

“Stop!” She held her hands over her ears, and Revi fell back on the couch, helpless with laughter. When Kathryn began reciting the preamble to the Federation Constitution, Revi completely lost it, laughing so hard that she slid halfway off the couch. The sight made it nearly impossible for Kathryn to keep up her act without losing it as well, but she managed to get to Article Two before Revi finally sat up and pulled her hands away from her ears.

“I can’t believe you’re the same person who sat right there, in that exact same spot, and teased me mercilessly about that very thing!” she said, still laughing. “Now you’re getting all prudish?”

“Well, then you were mortally embarrassed, so it was fun. Now you’re disgustingly satisfied with yourself, so it’s not fun anymore.” Kathryn was secretly delighted to find one of her hands firmly grasped in Revi’s clamp. Normally her friend was extremely careful about only using her organic hand to touch another person.

“Oh, I see,” said Revi, not letting go. “So you were just taking advantage of me.”

“I would never take advantage of you. That’s Seven’s prerogative.”

“I hope you’re on break. This is not a captain conversation.”

“It was before you changed it. I was sitting here talking about trade negotiations.”

Revi released her and leaned back. “Okay, I’ll give you that one. And just to make you comfortable again, since we wouldn’t want to offend your sensitive little captain’s ears, how are the negotiations going?”

“Good,” said Kathryn, snorting over the ‘captain’s ears’ comment. “They’re showing some definite interest in Bajoran wine, of all things. Our technology doesn’t mean much to them, but a lot of our luxury items do. The time lag is hell, though—they ask about things, I have to wait until the next MIDAS link to get Federation input or approval, I take it back to the negotiating table, and then they ask about something else and I’m stuck until the next day. If they’d just make a list of all their questions and requests, this would go a lot faster.” She picked up her cup and took a sip. “The good thing is, when I called Admiral Necheyev and told her that not only were we coming home in less than a month, but I was currently in a position to negotiate permanent transport rights between the two quadrants, she was actually speechless. Then she got a smile on her face like I’ve never seen before, and told me that if I kept my word on that, she could guarantee that all talk of a court-martial would be dropped.”

“Kathryn!” Revi sat up straight. “That’s fantastic!”

“I have to admit I’m a bit relieved.”

“Relieved hell! You should be ecstatic! You should be doing one of Lynne’s victory dances.”

“Oh, yes, that’s me.”

They laughed at the thought.

“How will retrieval work?” asked Revi.

“Right now the Federation Council is in talks with member planets regarding the location of the retrieval site. It has to be somewhere within reasonable reach of shipping lanes, but well outside any normal traffic areas for obvious reasons. It will have to be marked off with buoys and Starfleet will be patrolling it. The Council is already talking about establishing a space station, if you can believe it. Of course, all of that depends on it actually working as advertised, but I don’t think the Terellians would have been doing business this long if it didn’t. Starfleet is planning for the first retrieval six months after we get back.”

“Will they send Voyager?”

“I have no idea. And even if they do, I don’t know if I’ll be captaining her.”

“Gods, that's hard to imagine. Everything is going to change, isn’t it?”

Kathryn nodded. “It’s a little unsettling. I’ve been focused on getting home for seven years, and now that it’s actually happening, I don’t know what’s coming next. I’m not sure I’ll know what to do with myself.”

“Well, you could just take a year off and enjoy your celebrity status.” Revi’s smile was evil, and Kathryn leveled a Glare O’ Death at her.

“Don’t give me that look,” said Revi. “It never worked on me, you know.”

Kathryn sighed theatrically. “Yes, I know. And you’re one of the ones I most needed to use it on, too.”

Chuckling, Revi sipped at her tea. “So how’s Lynne doing with the—”

Whatever she had been about to say was lost in the red alert klaxon. Kathryn was up and heading for the door even before Chakotay’s voice came over her comm badge.

“Captain to the bridge.”

“Report,” she snapped, striding up the steps and taking her seat. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Revi hurrying to the turbolift.

“The Terellians are under attack,” said Chakotay.

“By whom?”

“Other Terellians, apparently.”

“Captain, I’m getting a general hail addressed to all ships,” said Harry.

“On screen.”

A male Terellian with uncharacteristically short hair glared out the screen at them. “All ships in the launch line, you are advised to keep your weapons powered down and stay out of our business. Any move to leave the launch line will be perceived as an act of aggression and dealt with accordingly. Ships are moving in position to guard the line even now.” He smiled grimly. “The time has come for Terellians to throw off the yoke of alien influence and be free once more.”

The message ended and Harry put the forward sensors on, showing six Terellian fighters moving into place along the transport line. A swarm of fighters and larger ships was converging on the Caretaker array, and a host of ships was erupting from the planet’s atmosphere, on an intercept course.

“All hands, battle stations!” Kathryn hooked up her battle harness as she spoke to her bridge crew. “That sounded like a message from a terrorist, and it looks like they’re targeting the array. We’ll stay out of the fight as long as it looks like the government forces are holding on. But if they need help, we’re offering it. Tom, evaluate those fighters guarding our line and plot the best course out of this little holding pen. If we jump into the fight, we’re going to have to move fast. Harry, find the channel that the planetary forces are using and put it on audio. Tuvok, analyze their weapons and shields. B’Elanna, do we have warp engines?”

“They’re coming on line now, Captain.” B’Elanna had been using the downtime to do some maintenance on the engines, but their downtime was officially over.

In truth, Kathryn had no legal grounds to interfere. She was in the middle of trade negotiations and had no signed treaty in hand, which meant that by Starfleet regulations, she was obligated to stand by and let the Terellians fight it out between themselves. But she’d be damned if she’d allow anything to get between her and a way home. Not again, and not when they were this close. She didn’t even care if the fighters currently engaging the planetary forces had a viable issue with their government. All she cared about was that their launch, already bought and paid for with Revi’s memories, went through on schedule.

“The government and attacking forces are evenly matched,” said Tuvok. “Both sides have weaponry superior to our standard weapons. If we enter the battle, I suggest utilizing the phase shift shielding and weapon.”

“Agreed,” said Kathryn. “Bring the shields on line and prepare the phasers, but don’t power them up until I give the order.”

Their new shields and phasers were an unexpected benefit from Lynne’s assimilation. She’d come back with enough information in her cortical implant to allow Seven and B’Elanna to reproduce the Borg technology. The two engineers had also added a few of their own ideas, tweaking the existing technology so that it used far less energy. It was still a greater drain than standard equipment, but in a situation where they were needed, such a drain was a small price to pay.

They listened to the battle on the audio as they watched it onscreen, and from the exchanges Kathryn deduced that the man who’d addressed the alien ships was the leader of a resistance movement called Free Terellia. Members of the movement were isolationists, believing that all negative aspects of Terellian culture were a result of alien influence. They sought to remove that influence by removing the one thing that attracted aliens: the array.

“Tuvok, why didn’t we know about any of this?” Even as she asked the question, a government fighter exploded and a Free Terellia fighter flew through the debris.

“I do not know,” said Tuvok, and if Kathryn didn’t know any better she’d have said he sounded irritated. “I have been in regular contact with several Terellian agencies. No mention was ever made of this conflict.”

“Well, it’s obviously been around for a while. Those government forces responded as if they’d been waiting for this. Either that or it was the fastest scramble I’ve ever seen.”

“I agree,” said Chakotay. “I think the Terellian government has been expecting an attack.” He frowned. “But I’m not sure they were expecting such a large force.”

Kathryn watched grimly as another government ship exploded and a third limped away from the fight, venting plasma. A Free Terellia fighter came up behind the disabled ship and fired, arcing away as the resulting explosion sent debris in all directions.

“Nice,” muttered Chakotay in disgust. Kathryn agreed with him. There was no reason to destroy a disabled ship during a space battle—not unless your purpose was total annihilation of the opposing forces.

The full government fleet had now reached the battle, and the screen was full of ships dancing around each other in a silent, deadly ballet. Phaser fire and torpedoes were everywhere, and not all of them were hitting their targets. One ship in the launch line was hit hard by a stray torpedo that tore off a significant portion of its tail section. Unable to maintain position, the ship fell out of formation and was promptly fired on by one of the six guardian ships. A few moments later it exploded, sending debris spinning off the shields of ships all around it. Voyager was rocked by errant phaser fire, but their new shields shrugged it off; Tuvok reported a zero point three percent loss in shields.

Kathryn breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing like a good field test of a new system, she thought. If they entered this fight, they had nothing to worry about from the phasers, at least. Those torpedoes looked like they might be a different story. She’d watched several of them go right through other ships’ shields as if they weren’t even there.

The attackers were hammering the government forces, at considerable loss to both sides. The numbers of disabled ships were increasing, and Kathryn was pleased to note that the government ships did not destroy any attacker once it was taken out of the fight. The Free Terellia forces, however, had no such restraint. Any disabled government ship was chased down and destroyed. Even as she watched, another government fighter tried to flee the scene, only to be pounced on by two attacking fighters. But two other government ships came out of nowhere to fire on the attackers, knocking both of them out of the fight. The “disabled” ship suddenly came back to life and joined the other two back in the battle, and Kathryn smiled in appreciation of the strategy. Then she glanced at the array and felt a jolt of adrenaline go through her system.

Eight of the larger Free Terellia ships had left the battle and were forming up in a close diamond shape near the array. Fighters flew a perimeter guard, protecting the eight from interference. Even as she watched, the ship at the top of the diamond sent out an energy beam to the ships on either side, which then passed it on. In a few moments all eight ships were connected and began to glow.

Kathryn had a bad feeling about this. She looked back at the main battle and saw that the government forces had their hands full simply containing the attackers; they didn’t have enough ships available to protect the array. But surely, if the array was central to their culture, they’d have defense mechanisms in place, wouldn’t they? The communication between the government fighters made it plain that they were aware of the threat.

“Why isn’t the Caretaker responding?” asked a male voice.

“I don’t know!” answered a female voice. “It must have been sabotaged.”

A third voice came on line. “All Terellian forces, disengage. Protect the Caretaker at all costs. The Caretaker’s defense is not operational, repeat, not operational.”

A number of Terellian swear words were heard over the channel as fighters broke off all over the battle and headed for the Caretaker. But their flight made them vulnerable, and many of them never made it as Free Terellia forces took advantage of the retreat. The battle was turning, and the glow of the eight connected ships was growing brighter.

Kathryn could hold out no longer. “Tuvok, bring weapons on line and fire on the nearest guardian ship as soon as you have a clear shot. Tom, get us to the array. Now!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Tom punched in a command and Voyager catapulted out of the launch line. Half a second later their new, green Borg phasers punched a hole right through the guardian ship. Its shields hadn’t even slowed the weapon down.

“The ship has been disabled, Captain,” Tuvok said.

Kathryn nodded as she hit the comm button on her console. “Terellian forces, this is the Federation starship Voyager. We’re coming to your aid; please do not fire.”

“We’ll take the help, Voyager. Target those eight ships by the Caretaker, they’re going to destroy it!”

“Understood.”

Kathryn had barely closed the channel before Harry called out, “Incoming torpedoes!”

“Evasive maneuvers!”

Tom threw Voyager into a bank that was probably outside the ship’s operational capacity, but their hull held together and Kathryn breathed a sigh of relief as three torpedoes missed them by a hair. But now the weapons were heading toward unprotected ships in the launch line.

“Take out those torpedoes,” she snapped. Instantly the orange beams of their standard phasers lanced out, dispatching the three torpedoes in quick succession. Kathryn appreciated Tuvok’s use of the standard weapons; if he’d missed they wouldn’t have done nearly as much damage to a noncombatant as the Borg phaser.

Their entry into the battle had not gone unnoticed; a group of Free Terellia fighters had broken off their pursuit of government ships and were now targeting Voyager with everything they had. Kathryn was grateful for her battle harness as the ship rocked under phaser fire. “Target weapons and propulsion and fire at will,” she called over the noise. The green Borg beam lanced out, disabling every ship it hit, while the Free Terellia ships continued to rake Voyager with their phasers to no effect.

“Shield strength at ninety-seven percent,” reported Tuvok. He’d barely finished speaking when Kathryn was thrown forward, her harness biting into her chest as it prevented her from flying halfway across the bridge.

“Torpedo impact!” called Harry. “Hull breaches on decks three, four and five!” Even their new shields couldn’t stop those torpedoes.

“Emergency force fields are up and holding,” said Tuvok calmly.

“Steady,” said Kathryn, letting her even tones settle her crew. “We’re almost there. Tuvok, as soon as we’re in range, take out the ship at the top of that diamond, then target the others at will.”

They were only a few seconds away from being in range, but she was beginning to worry that a few might be too many. The ships were glowing brilliantly as their energy built up. Whatever weapon they had, it looked nasty.

“Incoming!”

Tom didn’t wait for the order, instead twisting Voyager in a tight spiral that allowed the torpedo to pass them. Unfortunately, another attacking ship fired a moment later, and Tom wasn’t able to avoid that one. Kathryn was thrown to the side as the torpedo hit, and Harry reported hull breaches on two more decks. But the damage was not her primary concern. The eight ships were now emitting beams that converged at a central point in front of them, building into a ball of energy.

“Tom, cease evasive maneuvers. Just get us there!”

“Aye, Captain.” He straightened out the ship and held course, even as they rocked under yet another torpedo impact. Kathryn didn’t even want to know how badly her ship was being torn apart.

“Tuvok,” she said, having had a sudden thought, “belay the firing order. Ready a torpedo and target the energy matrix at their center. When it gets to the matrix, detonate it with a phaser.”

“Aye, Captain,” said Tuvok. Barely five seconds passed before he announced, “Torpedo away.”

They all watched as a small spark of light arced away from their ship and flew a deadly path toward the ball of energy. When it reached its destination, an orange beam sizzled across the space and detonated it. The blinding flash that resulted was far greater than a simple torpedo could account for; the energy matrix itself was reacting with the torpedo explosion. A shock wave radiated out in all directions, and the eight Free Terellia ships shuddered, then exploded. Their energy added to the shock wave, and moments later Voyager bucked wildly as the wave hit.

“Hold on!” called Tom as he fought to bring the ship under control. It was a violent ride, but Kathryn had no doubt that it would have been far more rough had Tom not been at the helm. She held her breath, waiting for reports of more hull breaches, but the ride smoothed out without any more damage to her ship. Thank god, she thought. Voyager had already been through hell.

“Voyager, our grateful thanks. You have three fighters on your tail; we’re coming in to help.”

“Firing phasers,” said Tuvok. Kathryn watched her console and saw the results.

“Voyager to Terellian forces,” she said. “Don’t worry about us. Take care of your own.”

“I can see you’re capable of taking care of yourselves,” said the male voice in some admiration. “Thank you.” The fighters that had been heading toward them veered away and joined another dogfight, while Tuvok continued to disable any fighters that came within reach of Voyager’s weapons.

In five more minutes it was all over but the cleanup. The remaining Free Terellia forces fled the system, and a squadron of government ships was dispatched in pursuit. In the battle zone, the destruction had been tremendous. Debris from destroyed ships floated everywhere, so thickly that some of the disabled Free Terellia fighters were sustaining additional damage due to their inability to avoid collisions with it. Poetic justice, Kathryn thought. She tore her gaze away from the screen and began reviewing the reports already flooding into her console. Sickbay reported twenty-one casualties, six of them serious. No fatalities, thank god. She scanned the names of the casualties, guiltily relieved to see that Lynne wasn’t among them. B’Elanna was one of the serious cases, listed as suffering plasma burns over thirty-two percent of her body.

Oh, god, no. Hang on, B’Elanna. Plasma burns were nasty; a burn like B’Elanna’s was life-threatening. Three of the other five serious casualties were also engineering crew, and also suffering burns, though none were as bad as B’Elanna’s. The final two were from decks that had sustained hull breaches. Ensign Delaney and Crewman Chell had both been slammed into bulkheads by the momentary decompression before the emergency force fields sealed the breaches. They’d sustained broken bones and internal injuries.

All told, the casualties were light, considering that they’d just been through one hell of a battle. But “light” was such a relative term; Kathryn was not looking forward to walking into sickbay and seeing members of her crew so badly hurt. And B’Elanna…no, she wouldn’t even allow herself to think that way. B’Elanna would be fine.

Next she pulled up the damage reports, and immediately groaned to herself. This was going to take weeks to clean up; they’d gotten hammered. Hull breaches on five decks, engineering containment doors down—which meant they couldn’t even begin repairs there until the plasma contamination had been taken care of—stations, consoles and systems failing all over the ship. But their shields had held—except where the torpedoes had temporarily punched through—their weapons had been unaffected, and they still had warp drive. With full shields they didn’t need to worry about the debris, and they could still defend themselves and move if they needed to.

Voyager, old friend, you’ll get us home yet. Kathryn felt a swell of pride for her battered but gallant ship. Voyager was still protecting them, even after such a hellacious battle. They would make their repairs, and when they returned to Earth, Voyager would look every bit the conquering hero she was.

“Captain, we’re being hailed by one of the Terellian government ships,” said Harry.

Kathryn looked up. “On screen.”

A male Terellian with shoulder-length black hair smiled at her. “Greetings, Captain Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager.” She immediately recognized his voice as the leader of the government forces, a fact he confirmed when he continued, “I am First Pilot Synall Corshon of the Terellian Space Defense. Your courageous assistance was most gratefully received. You have done a true service to the Terellian government.”

“We were happy to help,” said Kathryn. “Your forces fought well and bravely.” She’d learned a little about Terellian culture during her negotiations, and was careful not to offend by not answering one compliment with another.

Corshon bowed his head briefly. “Thank you. They were very brave. Unfortunately, many of them will not return from this battle. Today is a day of mourning for our people.”

“I’m sorry for your losses,” said Kathryn sincerely.

“As am I. Have you any losses, Captain Janeway?”

“We have several injured, but no deaths. Thank you for asking.”

He nodded. “Your ship is heavily damaged. Will you accept our offer of assistance in repairs?”

“Gladly. We’re scheduled for launch in nineteen days, and with the level of damage we’ve sustained, I don’t believe we’ll be ready in time without aid.”

“We would be glad for the opportunity to repay our debt to you. Please allow us to escort you to Terellia. We will prepare a slip for you at our military space dock.”

“Thank you,” said Kathryn. “We’re ready when you are.”

First Pilot Corshon bowed his head again, then cut the channel. On screen, they saw the largest of the remaining Terellian government ships turn and come straight toward them, three fighters flanking each side.

“Follow them out, Tom.”

“Aye, Captain.”

As the ships passed them, Tom swung Voyager around. Carefully he picked his way around the destruction, and moments later they left the battle zone behind.

 

 

 

book 9 | No Return main page