STAR TREK: VOYAGER
An Original J/7 Voyager Story
Ó2008 by Patricia L.
Givens
A Dirty Pair St. Patrick’s Day 2008
Disclaimer #1: This
story is an original work of fiction set in the pre-existing universe of Star
Trek: Voyager. As such, many of the
characters and references used within belong solely to Paramount Pictures. I have borrowed them for the purpose of
creating this scenario and promise to return them unscathed, and smiling, as
soon as I am done. No gain, monetary or
otherwise, is expected from their use and no copyright infringement is intended
or should be inferred.
Disclaimer #2: All
original characters and storylines contained herein belong to the author. (Like
anyone else would claim them! J
) This story may be archived upon
request with the stipulation that it must be posted exactly as it was written,
with all disclaimers intact.
Disclaimer #3: This
story does depict a loving relationship between to women. Some scenes may be graphic, but they are
lovingly so. If this bothers you, then
you really need to find another hobby.
You don’t seem to be very good at finding what you’re looking for on the
net. I suggest knitting, that way you
can make your own head cozy and stop the air that’s leaking out from between
your ears. If you are under 18, then
wear green underwear to school, that way you have an excuse to drop your pants
around all the pretty girls. (If you
need help picking them out, call me…) If this is illegal where you live then
find yourself a girlfriend, I guarantee that will light a fire under your ass
to change your local politics…
Who To Blame: Thanks must go out to
AW61 for being my partner in crime as well as to Ky, for the hours of laughter
she granted me by saying that she could beat me at Texas Hold ‘Em. Trust me when I say there are things I can do
with a good hand that would boggle your mind!
Thanks also to Andrea and Anne for continuing to read my drivel without
laughing too hard at the typos.
This one is dedicated to Bridge Crew over at Voyager
Conspiracy, for going above and beyond in their dedication to perviness. (Livin’ For Borgamocha!)
No little green men were harmed during the writing of this
story however ‘pot o’ gold’ took on a whole different meaning.
Love Long and Orgasm!
DAx =/\=
“St.
Patrick... one of the few saints whose feast day presents the opportunity to
get determinedly whacked and make a fool of oneself all under the guise of
acting Irish.”
-
Charles M. Madigan
“Are you
sure these figures are accurate?”
Captain Kathryn Janeway frowned as she glanced from the PADD in her hand
to the tired face of her Chief Engineer.
She already knew the answer, her officer would never supply her with any
information that was less than exact, but she needed to hear the words anyway.
B’Elanna
Torres ran a tired hand across her forehead, trying to rub away the headache
pounding behind the Klingon ridges that were a gift of her half-breed heritage. “Yes, Captain.”
Janeway
took a deep breath. “How long?”
“If we
travel at the lowest possible speed and avoid deviations from our flight path
of any kind...” She shook her head in
frustration. “A week… at most.”
The Captain
looked over her shoulder to the science station being manned by her
Astrometrics officer. “Seven? Are there any indications of dilithium
deposits in any direction within seven days of our present location?”
The
beautiful blonde’s hands flew over the console, widening her original search
pattern as the sensors picked up no sign of the elusive mineral. She felt her stomach drop and frowned.
Normally failure was unacceptable to her, but she had found that when it
involved disappointing her Captain, it became anathema. Thinking quickly, she broadened the criteria
to include free moving masses as well as planetoids. “Captain, I am picking up signs of a small
dilithium vein in an asteroid field approximately eight and a half light years
from our present coordinates.” She
glanced up at the diminutive redhead and felt her pulse quicken slightly at the
warm smile she was being graced with for her efforts.
“That’s my
girl.” The Captain whispered under her
breath, barely stopping herself from winking at the former Borg. They had become much closer than she had ever
imagined they would since she had liberated Seven from the collective two years
earlier; their relationship moving well beyond mentor and student into the
realm of close friends.
And just
recently she had grudgingly begun to admit to herself that her feelings for the
obstinate beauty were still in flux; that friendship might not be the best
definition of what she felt for the blonde at any given time.
Not that it
mattered.
How she
felt and who she might have those feelings for was not something she had the
ability to explore. Not when she had one
hundred and fifty people counting on her to get them home.
And most certainly not when you’re a
week away from being dead in space! She shook her head as though to clear it. “Eight and a half light years. Six days at low warp.” She laughed ruefully. “Why does everything always have to be all or
nothing? All right, Mr. Paris, set
course for-“
“Captain?” Harry Kim glanced up from his console, a
sickly look on his face. “I’m picking up
a distress signal.”
“Of course
you are.” Janeway leaned back in her
chair and closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “On screen.”
“It’s audio
only.” He tapped the console and sent
the message directly to the comm system.
They all listened intently as a high pitched voice filled the bridge.
“To any ships in the immediate area,
this is Prime Mginti of the Lekarion Trader Blasscrill. Please we are in need of aid! Our single vessel has been assaulted by seven
raiders. Our weapons are offline and our
shields are failing. Please, we require
assistance.”
“Tuvok?” Janeway glanced back at the Vulcan officer
manning the tactical station.
“Their ship
has indeed been disabled. Their weapons
and engines are offline.” He lifted one
perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Captain,
they possess warp technology. The
smaller, attacking vessels do not. It
appears as though the larger ship has been ambushed.”
“How far
out are they?”
“Ten
minutes at warp nine.”
“Captain!” B’Elanna looked at her pointedly. “If you jump to warp nine you might as well
pick a planet and have us start planting crops, because there is no way we will
make it to that asteroid field.”
Janeway
stared at her, nodding slowly.
“Understood, Lieutenant. But
there are some situations which do not provide me the luxury of a choice.” She turned to the helm. “Tom, lay in a course for that ship. Harry, open a channel.” She cleared her throat. “Trader Blasscrill, this is Captain Kathryn
Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager.
We are en route to you. It will
take us at least ten minutes to arrive; can you hold them off for that long?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
The comm signal was filled by the sound of a large explosion. “However…
if you could hurry…”
Her
eyebrows rose at the humor apparent in the voice. “We’ll do our best. Janeway out.”
She settled back into her chair.
“Warp nine. Engage.”
Ten minutes
later they emerged into normal space, the view screen before them filled by the
sight of a large, sleek looking vessel being surrounded by seven smaller
ships. The raiders were obviously less
advanced technology wise, but they were quick and agile, darting in to riddle
the sides of the Blasscrill with phasers and torpedoes before jumping away only
to be replaced by another.
“Status?” Janeway barked.
“The
Blasscrill is dead in the water and about to lose shields.” Tuvok replied.
“Open a
channel to the marauding vessels.” When
the Vulcan nodded she squared her shoulders, injecting ice into her voice. “This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the
U.S.S. Voyager to the raiders attacking the trader Blasscrill. Stand down immediately or you will force me
to take action against you.”
There was a
pause and then a deep male voice responded. “This is none of your concern, Voyager. Leave the area immediately or you will suffer
the same fate.”
The
Captain’s eyebrows rose as her mouth set in a thin line. “I do not take well to threats. And you do not have the advantage of surprise
where we are concerned. Your ships, even seven of them, are no match for
mine. Cease your attack and stand down,
you have ten seconds to comply.”
Five of the
small ships broke free from their assault and sped towards Voyager as the comm
signal was cut.
“Guess they
don’t want to negotiate.” Tom quipped.
The ships
opened fire simultaneously, their phaser beams glancing off Voyager’s hull
while their torpedoes exploded against her shields. Janeway glanced back at Tuvok.
“No effect. We are not in danger.” He looked at her expectantly.
Janeway sighed. “Target their weapons. Disable them.
Avoid doing any unnecessary damage.”
It was over
in seconds. The five ships limped away
to be joined by the other two as they quickly vacated the area. She half expected their leader to throw back
a meaningless threat but the comm remained silent.
“The
Blasscrill is hailing, Captain.” Harry
said quietly.
“Open a
channel.” She stood.
“Captain Janeway!”
The voice sounded jubilant. “You have our enduring gratitude!”
“What is
your status, Prime Mginti?”
“Weapons and engines are down, as
are our shields. I apologize for the
lack of visual communications but it is at the bottom of our necessary repairs
list.”
“Understood. Could you explain the situation is with your
adversaries?”
“The Malari.” The voice became more serious. “The
Lekarions and the Malari have shared this region of space for generations. At one time, we considered each other
kin. Our paths diverged when our ruling
councils disagreed on what direction to take in the advancement of our
species. The Malari believed the way to
ensure their survival was through the expansion of their territory. They proceeded to construct a military force
that was able to conquer worlds in several nearby sectors.”
“I take it
you did not agree with their methods?”
“It is not the Lekarion way,
Captain. We are not warriors. We are…
not built for it, nor are we so ethically inclined. We chose instead to improve our society
through science and technology. The
Malari believe they are entitled to share in our advancements.”
“You
refused?”
Prime
Mginti sighed. “You must understand, Captain.
We have made offers to share our medical advancements and our methods
for increasing crop yield and food production, but that is not the technology
that the Malari are interested in. They
want our weapons, our propulsion systems.
They believe it will aid them in their endeavor to conquer more worlds.
We will be no part of that.”
“It seems
we have much in common then. The
Federation also prohibits the sharing of advanced technology with undeveloped
races for many of the same reasons. I am curious though, how did the Malari
manage to disable your systems?”
“We were on our way home from a
recent trade delegation with a nearby ally.
Apparently there was a Malari operative in their midst. They knew our route home and managed to
ambush us, knocking out our primary systems before we could fight back. As I have stated, we are not warriors.”
“Well, I am
not comfortable leaving you here in your present condition. We will take up station keeping off your port
bow until you have completed your repairs.”
“Captain, if I may make a
suggestion?
“Of
course.”
“The repairs we require are
extensive. Our home world is not far,
just on the other side of the fourth dwarf star to your aft. If you would be so kind as to aid us in
returning home…”
“Captain.”
Tuvok called her quietly, making her signal Harry to cut the outgoing feed as
she turned to look at him expectantly.
“According to our scans, there is no planet behind the fourth dwarf
star.”
Janeway
frowned and nodded to open the channel again.
“Prime Mginti, forgive us our caution, but we have been alone in this
quadrant for far too long to take anything at face value. And according to our scans, the only thing
past that star is open space.”
The Prime
replied, humor once again prevalent in his voice. “There
is nothing to forgive, Captain. We
ourselves are a very cautious people.
Our diminutive size requires that we be very careful about whom we lead
to our planet. It is rich in natural
resources and unsettled land. As we
prefer the more noble pursuits of science and exploration to warfare, we have
found it necessary to shield our home world from those who travel through this
territory. I am sending you the sensor recalibrations necessary to see past the
force field erected around it.”
She glanced
back at the Vulcan who quickly entered the new information. After a moment, he nodded. “There is in fact a small, class M planet
located at those coordinates.”
Satisfied,
Janeway acquiesced. “We will tow you
back to your home. Prepare for our tractor
beam.”
“Thank you, Captain. We would like to repay you for the kindness
you have shown us. Forgive my
presumption, but if your statement about being in this quadrant alone is
accurate, then supplies must be scarce. Is
there any service we may provide for you?
As I have stated, our world has abundant resources. Is there anything you require?”
She
blinked, startled. “Well… we are in need
of certain supplies…”
“Excellent!”
She could hear his smile through the comm. “Send
us over a data stream of whatever materials you require. If we possess them, they will be yours. In the meantime, I will open our historical
databases for your perusal; allow you to get to know us a little bit better.”
She turned
to Seven, but the Borg shook her head, already aware of the question she was
about to ask. “The recalibrations give
us the ability to view the planet, but nothing else.”
“Tell me,
Prime,” She said hopefully. “Are you
familiar with a mineral called dilithium ore?”
“No, Captain, I am afraid I am not.”
“I see.”
She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Thank you for your generous offer. I’ll have my First Officer send the
information as soon as possible. Janeway
out.”
Chakotay
turned to her as she settled back into her command chair. “What we ask for could reveal our present
status. How in depth do you want this
list to be?”
The Captain
shrugged. “At this point it seems as
though we have no choice but to trust their intentions. It isn’t as if we could get very far should
we try.”
Her First
Officer nodded. “Should I include a
request for land?”
She threw a
poisonous look at him before heading to her ready room, calling back over her
shoulder, “Assemble the senior staff. We
need to go over our options.”
* * * * * * * * * * *
Two hours
later they were still no closer to a solution.
“I don’t
see that we have many options at all, Captain.”
B’Elanna slid her data PADD to the center of the conference table. “That last jump to warp burned through almost
all of our remaining dilithium stores, and this side trip to tow the Lekarions
home will leave us sitting on empty.”
She slammed her hand down in frustration. “I cannot believe it’s all going to end here,
at the tiny little planet on the other side of nowhere.”
Janeway
sighed. “What would you have had me do,
Lieutenant? Leave the Lekarions to die?”
The
half-Klingon flushed. “Of course
not. I know we did the right thing. It’s just sometimes… doing the right thing is
a major pain in the ass.”
“You don’t
have to tell me that.” The Captain
sighed. “Maybe we’re overlooking
something. We don’t know yet exactly
what kind of natural resources the Lekarions possess. There might be an alternative fuel source
available to us.”
“And if
there isn’t?”
“Then we
will have to weigh our alternatives.”
She turned her attention to Seven.
“What have you learned about our new friends?”
The Borg
cocked her head to one side. “According
to their databases, they are exactly as they have described; a science driven
race, with numerous technological advances.
They have, however, managed to balance their desire for knowledge with a
deep appreciation for their planetary resources. They have only terra-formed and settled the
land immediately needed by their population and as such, they have vast
unspoiled regions. Their atmosphere is
ninety six percent Earth normal, with compatible fauna and vegetation. The only major difference appears to be in
their water masses.”
“Their
oceans?” Janeway asked. “What’s different about them?”
“They are
fresh water. All of them.”
The Captain
nodded thoughtfully then something struck her.
“Terra-formed?”
“Yes.” The blond glanced at the PADD in front of
her. “The Lekarions are not from this
area of space. Their history makes no
mention of where they did originate, only that they settled on this planet over
twelve generations ago.”
She opened
her mouth to respond when a hail came over the comm from the bridge crew.
“Ensign Morales to Captain Janeway.”
“Go ahead.”
“We have reached the Lekarion home
world and The Blasscrill is hailing, Captain.”
“Open a
channel.”
There was a
small hiss of static and then the jovial voice of Prim Mginti filled the comm
signal. “Captain Janeway! Thank you for
you aid in returning us to our home. I
have been in contact with the Council of Elders. They have gone over your requests and I am
happy to report that we will be able to supply you with several of the items on
your list. In addition to that, they
have a proposal they would like me to make.”
“Which is?”
“I would much prefer to speak with
you in person, Captain. I have always
believed that communication works best face to face. But our visual communications are still down. Would you be amenable to a personal meeting?”
“Of
course.” Janeway agreed. “We could transport you here, to Voyager, if
that would suffice.”
“It would indeed. I have a small delegation standing by.”
“All
right.” She nodded to Tuvok. “Meet them
in transporter room two and bring them here.”
She watched him go, her lips pursed thoughtfully. When the doors slid open again fifteen
minutes later, there was an unreadable expression on his face. Her eyebrows rose slightly with her curiosity
as she stood to greet their guests.
As the
Lekarion delegation entered the room, she bit down hard on the inside of her
cheek, keeping her face carefully neutral as Tuvok directed them to their
chairs.
There was
just no way around it.
They were
Leprechauns.
Small in
stature, the tallest one barely larger than Naomi Wildman, with pale green
skin, wide expressive features and flaming red hair, the Lekarions were so
reminiscent of the Irish fairy folk that she was hard pressed not to smile in
delight. Their deep green uniforms did
nothing to lessen the effect and from the strangled snort she heard from Tom Paris’
direction, she knew she was not the only one to have drawn the correlation.
Prime Mginti
came to stand beside her. His generous
mouth curved into a huge smile, causing the lines of his face to deepen. If the ones around his mouth were any
indication, the Lekarions were a very jovial people. He held out his hands, palms upward, and she
covered them with her own to have them squeezed firmly in greeting.
“Captain
Janeway!” His voice was high pitched,
the words bending into a rough brogue as the translator did its job. "Thank you for for your hospitality."
She
returned the smile, finding herself charmed by the man’s open nature. “You are quite welcome.” She released him and motioned to an empty chair
to her right. “Please, sit.”
The Prime
had to hop slightly to settle himself onto the seat and she threw a warning
glance at Tom, who had covered his mouth with his hand as he looked at the
dignitaries feet, which dangled a good six inches above the floor.
“So,”
Janeway slid into her own chair. “You
spoke of a proposal?”
Mginti smiled. “First, the Council wishes for me to express
its unending gratitude for the return of its people.” He withdrew a small, flat device that looked
much like a data PADD. “And they have
gone over your requests, finding them a pittance of what your aid is truly
worth. I am happy to inform you that food,
water and medicine will be yours in abundance.”
She
inclined her head graciously. “Thank
you, Prime. I must ask however, if you
have found any resources which might match our needs in terms of a power
source.”
The little
man’s face fell somewhat. “I’m afraid
not. We have looked to our own fuels, to
see if there might be a method of converting them for your use, but it appears
that is one area where our technologies diverge too vastly.” He smiled at her suddenly. “However, I did wish to discuss the crag
crystal with you.”
“The ‘crag
crystal’? I don’t understand.”
“My
apologies, Captain.” He patted her on
the hand. “When you first asked about it
your terminology, as well as your desire for it, confused us. Crag crystal is a
naturally occurring mineral on our home world.
In truth, it is more of a nuisance as it comprises most of the outer
mantle that we must destroy before we can terra-form to build our homes. I believe you called it…” He glanced at the data device. “… ‘dilithium’?”
Janeway’s
eyes widened. “You… destroyed it?”
“Unfortunately,
yes. We had no use for it.” He saw her
look of disappointment and hurried on.
“However, that was only the portion that we had already removed. You will find the unsettled continents to the
north covered with it, more than enough to fill a ship this size a thousand
times over. You are welcome to all that
you can carry, providing you have the ability to mine it.”
She glanced
around the table, her smile broadening at the looks of amazement on her senior
staffs faces. “I don’t think that will
be a problem. The extraction shouldn’t
take more than a few days. I can have
three runabouts, fully outfitted with mining gear ready by the time we break
atmosphere.”
“I’m afraid
that isn’t possible, Captain.”
Her eyebrow
rose. “But you said...”
He held up
his hand. “Let me explain. In one hour, the sun will set on our world. At that time, the Festival of Illumination
will begin.”
At the
other end of the table, Seven’s head rose from her PADD, a bright gleam of
interest in her eyes that did not go unnoticed by the Captain.
“Once every
ten years,” he continued. “Our third moon, Lumens, rises in the night sky. When it reaches its zenith, the pull on the
tides near the coastal regions is immense.
The air becomes heavy with moisture that settles over the land in a
thick silver mist. When this mist
reaches the
“I
see. But tomorrow…?”
“As soon as
the sun rises you may begin your extraction of the crag crystal.” He smiled expansively. “However, the Council’s proposal deals with
the Festival itself. They wish to extend
an invitation to you and your entire senior staff to join us for the
celebration. It will be the first time
any off-worlders have been in attendance since we cut ties with the Malari over
two hundred years ago. You will be our
guests at the Elder’s Table during the banquet, be given lodgings for the night
in the capital and be allowed entrance into the
Janeway’s
eyes narrowed. “How did you know we were
trying to find our way home?”
The smile
never faltered. “You mentioned that you
were alone in this quadrant, Captain.
Your ship looks like nothing we have ever encountered before, and it is
a belief held by the Lekarions that all missions to explore other regions have
the same ultimate destination in mind.
Home.”
She laughed
softly. “We truly do have much in common
then.”
“Will your
crew join us for the Festival, Captain?”
She glanced
at Tuvok, who merely raised one eyebrow.
“We would be honored.”
“Excellent!” The Prime took her hand again to squeeze it
momentarily. “I have been assigned as
your guide while on Lekaria. It is a
role I look forward to fulfilling eagerly.”
He slid from his chair and the rest of the delegation followed
suit. “At the moment, however, I must
return to my ship and prepare for the crew to disembark. I will have my First send over the
coordinates of the transport location within the capital. I will eagerly await your arrival.”
“Thank you,
Prime. Neelix will see you back to the
transporter room.” She nodded at the
Talaxian who led the miniscule group from the room, chatting with them as he
went. When they were gone, she turned to
the group seated at the table. “So? Any concerns?”
“They
appear to be quite a congenial race, Captain.”
Tuvok said thoughtfully. “If
their intentions can be trusted, this could definitely be a fortuitous
situation.”
“Seven?” Janeway turned her attention to the end of
the table. “You’ve researched their
databases. Any indications that we’re
heading for trouble?”
“None,
Captain.” The Borg tapped the PADD in
front of her. “We have been able to scan
the surface of the planet and there are several weapon installments, but they
appear to be merely defensive in nature.”
“How about
you, Doctor? Any misgivings?”
The EMH
shook his head. “All of my environmental
scans back up the data that Seven has supplied us with. The air, water, vegetation… it all seems to
be well within tolerances.”
“And the
mining of the ore?”
B’Elanna
perked up. “That won’t be a problem,
Captain.” The Klingon smiled. “I can have my people prepare the runabouts
while we’re on the surface. Tomorrow,
Tom can take the Delta Flier and Chakotay and I can fly the other two. If we each work with five man crews, it
shouldn’t take us more than two days to mine enough dilithium to stuff every
available crevice we have on the ship.”
“So that
just leaves making it through the festival.”
Chakotay smiled.
“Do you
believe there will be problems?” The
Captain looked at him curiously.
“We still
don’t even know what the festival really represents.” He shrugged.
“I recommend caution, that’s all.”
“You may be right.
But then, the Lekarions have been completely straightforward with us
thus far. Whether
they’re celebrating the moon or the flower...who knows? Either way, they have dilithium they are
willing to give us. Not trade us, GIVE
us. For that, I'll dance with the damn
flower in my teeth."
Chakotay smiled.
“I think I’d pay to see that. It
looks like your luck has held out for us yet again, Captain.”
“Yeah!”
Tom laughed. “The luck of the
Irish! Who would have thought, way out
here in the Delta we’d find a pack of Leprechauns to lead us to their pot of
gold!”
Janeway swallowed a laugh and waggled a finger at
him. “They’re the Lekarions, Tom, not the Leprechauns. I suggest you continuously remind yourself of
that. Otherwise you might say something
unfortunate at an extremely inopportune moment.”
The fair-haired helmsman immediately looked
contrite. “Sorry, Captain.”
“Best behavior, people.” She chewed on her lip to hide a smile. “Dress uniforms, transporter room one in
forty five minutes. We don’t want to be
late, considering we are the guests of honor.
Dismissed.”
She watched them file out one by one, looking at
Seven expectantly when the Borg stopped in front of her. “Yes, Seven?”
“I have read about this festival extensively,
Captain. I look forward to attending,
from a purely anthropological standpoint, of course.”
“Of course.”
Janeway smiled.
“While the lunar phenomena and its effects on
the planetary tidal systems are interesting, it is the blossom itself I find
most intriguing. Lunarum Rosari Verdiana. ” She leaned her
head to one side and studied the Captain’s face. “The flower is most unusual Captain.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not in the least.”
Janeway shrugged. “Then I don’t care.” She gathered her PADDs and stood.
One eyebrow arched curiously. “Are you certain you do not want to hear
about my research?”
“Tell me tomorrow, Seven. Right now, we’re late.”
The corners of Seven's lips twitched
slightly. "Very Well, Captain. As you wish."
They left the conference room together, Janeway
turning the bridge over to the beta shift on their way to the turbo lift. As the doors slid shut, she looked at Seven
speculatively. “What are you going to
wear?”
“Wear?”
“This is a formal event, Seven.”
The Borg looked down at her biosuit. “I do not possess a dress uniform,
Captain. What would you suggest?”
Janeway bit down on her tongue, fighting the
urge to say something completely inappropriate.
For some reason, the desire to do so seemed to increase exponentially in
direct relation to her proximity to the lovely blonde. “Check the computer.” She cleared her throat. “Be creative.”
Seven sighed.
“Yes, Captain.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Captain Janeway entered transporter room one
forty minutes later, smiling at the members of her senior staff who were in
attendance; all of them decked out in Starfleet’s finest. But there was one member noticeably absent.
“Where’s Seven?”
She asked.
Tom grinned.
“Maybe she’s still primping. It
is a woman’s prerogative to be late you know.”
He grunted as B’Elanna placed a well aimed elbow in his ribs. Chakotay and Harry began to chuckle, only to
have their laughter die out immediately as the doors slid open and the crew
member in question stepped into view.
Janeway stared, her mouth going dry. She couldn’t help it.
Seven was devastating.
Her blonde hair was loose, one side flowing
freely over her forehead where it hid much of her ocular implant from
view. The other side was tucked neatly
behind her ear, showing off the brightly glimmering starburst that adorned her
cheek. She wore a sleeveless gown of
deep crimson, the color exactly matching that of the Captain’s dress uniform,
thin straps held it up over her shoulders while the bodice was cut low, showing
the swells of her breasts as they struggled against the thin fabric across her
chest. The hem of the dress ended just
above her knees, showing several inches of smooth, cream colored legs before
they disappeared into high black boots that laced up the front.
The Borg took in their stares with good grace as
she came to stand before the captain.
One perfect eyebrow rose slightly as she whispered, “Creative enough?”
Janeway swallowed. “Perfect.”
She pulled at her collar slightly.
Why were transporter rooms always so warm? “You look lovely.” She cleared her throat and turned her
attention to the rest of the senior staff, hoping like hell that she had hidden her
admiration far better than they were.
“All right. Let’s make our
appearance.”
They beamed down en masse, appearing in the
center of a wide courtyard. The
darkening sky was a deep, bruised blue, the two moons already high overhead
casting a soft light on the green grass and the dark marbled stone beneath
their feet.
Prime Mginti was awaiting them with a small
entourage. “Captain!” He took both of her hands again in
greeting. “We are honored by your
presence.”
“No more so than we are by your
invitation.” She smiled.
He nodded graciously. “Please, if you will follow me, the Great
Hall is already receiving guests for the celebration.” He led them through a tall archway and into a
large, grand looking building decked out in flowing purple tapestries and
impressive artwork. Their path led them
down a long corridor, lined on both sides by larger than life statues that were
still barely taller than Chakotay, until they came to a brief halt outside of wide
double doors that were crowded by hundreds of the diminutive Lekarions.
As they waited, Janeway leaned closer to Seven
and whispered, “You’re with me tonight.”
The Borg looked at her curiously, causing the heat to rise into her
cheeks. “You’re the most knowledgeable
of Lekarion history and social interaction.”
She explained quickly, her lips curving into a slightly amused
grin. “Besides, we’re dressed to match.”
Seven nodded.
“Indeed.”
The crowds in front of them parted suddenly and
Prime Mginti waved them forward. As they
entered the Great Hall, the murmur of voices died down immediately to be
replaced by thunderous applause.
Bemused, the Captain looked at him.
“News of your assistance has already spread in
our world. Your presence here is an
honor to us all.”
Slightly embarrassed, she merely nodded and
allowed him to lead them to a long table at the front of the room. It sat on a raised dais, a purple cloth
draped over it that was covered with dozens of different kinds of food and drink. He sat her staff first, alternating them
between members of the Elder council until the only seats left were at the very
center of the table. “You and your
companion will sit at the head of the table, Captain, as is befitting your
status.”
Janeway shot a sideways glance at Seven,
wondering how the Borg would react to being labeled her companion, but the
blonde merely inclined her head in thanks and settled into the chair to her
left. Taking her own seat, she threaded
her fingers together before her on the table.
The Prime leaned over from his seat to her
right and whispered, “Elder Silus will now open the celebration.”
A small figure dressed in deep green robes
stood, his silver hair the only indication of his age. The hall immediately fell into a reverent
silence as he began to speak.
“My fellow Lekarions, I welcome you once again
to the Festival of Illumination.” He
waited patiently as the cheers that met his words died down. “Once again, we are blessed to see the rising
of Lumens. Once again, we are blessed to
witness the blossoming of our sacred flower.
May the next ten cycles bring us all health and happiness, joy and
peace, and more friends such as the ones who grace our table this night. Eat your fill, and drink hearty for in a few
short hours we will once again venture into the
Every glass was raised to share in the toast, before the
Lekarions tilted their heads back to drain them dry. Janeway sipped from hers, her eyes going wide
as the strong alcohol burned down the back of her throat. She threw a cautionary glance to her crew as
the cups were filled again by the staff circulating with large pitchers of the
brew.
Aside from the initial toast, the banquet resembled nothing
of the formal affairs she was used to attending. The crowds became more boisterous with each
passing hour, the sounds of laughter and joy loud in her ears. Her own attention was torn between the
humorous stories being shared with her by the Council Elders and the woman who
sat quietly at her side.
Seven listened intently, interacting with those who spoke to
her, a small smile on her face as she watched the Captain being charmed by the
Prime who seemed intent on keeping her attention off the activities of her
crew, most of whom had joined in the dancing taking place on the open atrium
floor. She herself drank nothing but
water, noticing that the Captain did the same, only sipping from her wine glass
when another toast was raised in their honor.
The small smile turned to a carefully hidden grin when Prime
Mginti took the Captain by the hand and dragged her out to the dance floor
where, after a humorous discussion as to who should lead (he was of the opinion
that she should) the two of them sped around the floor in broadening circles to the
steady beat of drums and horns. Once
their dance had ended, Janeway found herself besieged by requests until she
finally collapsed back into her chair, winded and laughing, quite a while
later.
The time slipped past quickly and The Captain found herself
surprised when the Prime stood and extended one hand to her and the other to
Seven. With a smile, he placed the
Captain’s hand within Seven’s, closing his own firmly over both. “It is time.”
“Time?” Janeway
looked from him to Seven, then down to their tightly linked hands.
“Yes. Time to enter
the Gardens.”
She looked up, noticing that everyone else had begun to
stand and pair off, joining hands before they left the hall through a silver
archway at the other end.
“It is customary to enter the Gardens in pairs,
Captain.” He gestured to her party. “We have assigned guides to those of your
crew who are in need of them. But as you
came with your own companion, you shall enter with her. If you will follow me.”
She looked past him to see Chakotay, Harry and Tuvok all
paired up with Lekarion females. Tom and
B’Elanna had linked their hands together as well. She glanced at Seven, expecting to see
confusion on her face, but was met with a warm, gentle look instead.
“Shall we?” The tall
blonde asked quietly.
Janeway stared at her for a moment as a small charge of
electricity traveled down her spine. “Of
course.”
They waited patiently for their turn through the arch,
politely declining several offers to let them pass ahead. When the finally reached it, the Prime
steered them gently through the opening, smiling as he watched their eyes widen
on the other side.
The
Looking around, Janeway blinked in surprise.
The Garden was empty.
“Where is everyone?”
She turned back to study the silver arch behind them. “It’s a transport arch!”
“Yes!” He laughed in
delight. “There are thousands of these
small gardens all along our coast. Most
are shared by whole communities or at least several different families, but
this one is meant for your enjoyment alone.”
He led them to the railing which overlooked a broad expanse of black
sanded beach a hundred feet below.
The water was incredible.
It moved in ever increasing waves towards the shore, its surface further
out flat and serene, so clear she could see the dark shapes of sea life
moving beneath it, even with only the light from the two moons high overhead.
“It’s incredible.”
Janeway breathed.
“Thank you.” The
Prime nodded slightly. “Lumens will rise
from behind the trees in just a short while.”
He gestured to the plants. “The
flowers will blossom there, not that you would be able to miss them. Stay in the garden for as long as you
wish. When you are ready, your quarters
are through there.” He indicated a large
ornately carved door that had initially been hidden by the trees behind
them. “Or you are welcome to return to
the Great Hall. The celebration will continue until dawn.” He bowed.
“Fair night, Captain.” Turning,
he gave Seven a long look, a gentle smile and a small wink before disappearing
through the arch.”
“Well,” Janeway leaned up against the railing, the warmth at
her fingertips and the pounding of her heart informing her that their hands
were still held tightly together. “This is
something, isn’t it?”
“It is quite beautiful, Captain.” Seven said quietly.
She smiled and looked up to answer, only to have her voice
die in her throat when she realized that the Borg was not looking out at the
beach, but at her instead. “Seven…?”
Before she could continue, the sound of the waves below
intensified; the crash of the water onto the sand louder with each passing
swell, but it did not pull her attention away from woman at her side.
Seven had begun to glow.
At first it was subtle; a low light reflected off the
paleness of her skin. Then it became brighter
and the Captain watched, her lips parted in wonder, as the third moon rose
behind the younger woman, the glowing disc creating a shimmering halo behind
hair made all the more pale by its light.
Her eyes became caught briefly in the almost ghostlike blue of her
companions, before dropping to take in the deep red of her lips.
A huge crash sounded to her right and she turned, gasping in
wonder as a huge wave crested, it passed the height of the railing to crash
loudly against the shore, sending small droplets of water cascading over them
both.
As they watched, a thick silver haze began to form beneath
them. It rose effortlessly, caught on
the cool night breeze to be dragged into the garden around them. Janeway followed it silently, leading Seven
over to the plants which had begun to quiver as tendrils of water laden mist
licked at their leaves.
Without warning, tightly closed pods at the tip of each
branch split open and a shower of silver dust covered them as pearl white
flowers erupted from their cocoons. The
petals were thick, with light pink veins that traveled through them to form a
deep crimson bed at the center of each blossom.
Janeway closed her eyes and breathed in deeply as the most incredible scent filled the air around them. It was sweet, but not cloying, reminiscent of lavender and lilac and she could not stop herself from reaching out to pluck a flower from its branch. Laughing in delight, she turned to Seven holding the flower up to ask her a question she suddenly could