• This is the 4th in the Just Between series.
• To my beta readers who helped me with this prior to posting, my eternal appreciation.
• This installment occurs after the events in Hope and Fear, near the end of the fourth year of Voyager's journey, and was first posted in July, 1998.

Lying on the deck of the astrometrics lab, arm fully extended as she groped under the console for the padd she had dropped, Janeway gradually became aware that she was no longer alone. She reversed the position of her head, getting a close up view of high-heeled boots covered with a brown, mesh-like material. With one eye, she peered up the six foot length of her astrometrics officer, over the incredible curvaceous body, and proud bosom, to the fine blonde features staring quizzically at her.

"Captain?" Seven of Nine raised her left eyebrow, thereby raising the metallic implant around it as well, a stark reminder, along with the star-shaped implant on her cheek, of her eighteen years as a drone in the Borg Collective.

"Seven," Janeway said, with appreciation, withdrawing her arm and rising to her knees. "I dropped my padd in behind the console. Can your longer arms reach it?"

"I will try," Seven allowed and gingerly lowered herself to the carpet, stretching out full length beside the kneeling Starfleet captain.

She reached in and from the way her muscles flexed in her shoulder, Janeway could tell she was having a bit of difficulty reaching it as well ... possibly because she was in the wrong area.

"No, further to the right, Seven," she instructed, and leaned over again, reaching across her back, trying to guide the young woman to the spot where she knew the padd had lodged itself.

At that moment, the door to the astrometrics lab hissed open, and Lt. Harry Kim, Voyager's young operations officer walked in, took one look at Seven  stretched out on the floor, with the captain lying on top of her, blanched, and made an immediate about-face.

"My apologies, Captain," he stammered, staring at the door he had just entered, back firmly turned to the two women lying on the floor. "I didn't know you and Seven were....uh..."

Janeway, her puckish humor piqued, turned and rested her elbows on the Borg's back as she reclined against her partner, who was now trapped between the captain and the console. "What, Lt. Kim?" Janeway asked in a dangerous voice. "Seven and I were ... what?"

"Uh...." he temporized like mad. "You don't owe me any explanations."

"Well, I'm glad we agree on that," Janeway said coldly, though her eyes were twinkling a bright blue. "However, I would like to give you one, Lt. Kim ... a detailed, explicit explanation."

A pause, as his back muscles visibly twitched through his tunic. She could only imagine his expression. "That really won't be necessary, Ma'am," he said weakly.

"I believe it is, Lieutenant," she said, trying not to snicker. She made the mistake of glancing down at Seven who was eyeing her tolerantly over her shoulder, and she had to bite her lip, holding back the laughter rising in her throat. With an effort, she managed to control the amusement in her voice. "Very well, Lieutenant. Seven is lying on her face to retrieve a padd I lost beneath the console, and I was attempting to direct her to exactly where it was."

"Uh, yes Ma'am," he said, clearly not believing her.

"I assure you, Mr. Kim," Seven said, wiggling out from under the captain and holding the padd aloft. "That is indeed what is occurring."

Tentatively, he glanced behind him, seeing the two women now sitting side-by-side, with Seven brandishing the padd. He blushed furiously and turned to face them. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to misconstrue your ... uh, the way you looked when I came in...." Flustered, he stopped completely.

Seven raised a brow. "I do not understand, Lt. Kim," she asked blandly. "Why would my attempting to retrieve a misplaced padd cause such discomfort to you?"

"Seven, I....." Defeated, he placed the stack of padds he was holding onto a nearby console and said in a rush, "Here'stheoperationsreportIpromisedyou. Youcanstartyournewcalibrationsonthesystems. TalktoyoulaterSeven." And fled.

Captain Kathryn Janeway collapsed to her side on the deck, and howled.

"Are you aware," Seven said, when Janeway had finally trickled off to a few less than dignified snorts, "that your sense of humor is something that B'Elanna Torres thinks is positively 'sadistic' at times? It is a trait she admires very much."

Janeway smiled widely at her, sitting back up and wrapping her arms around her knees. "My sense of humor?" she said, nudging her in the side with an elbow. "You helped. You knew very well what he was thinking."

"That we were initiating copulation," Seven agreed promptly. "Which was incorrect. That positioning would prohibit such an act."

Janeway leered at her gently. "Not necessarily," she said.

Seven eyed her uncertainly, then regarded her lover with affectionate forbearance when Janeway laughed again. "You are being facetious," she accused.

"Always," Kathryn said, and leaned over, kissing Seven. It was quick, a mere brush of lips over hers, but for the captain of the starship Voyager, it was quite daring indeed.

Lost for four years in the Delta Quadrant, Captain Kathryn Janeway had molded her complex crew of Starfleet officers, Maquis outlaws, and a couple of alien civilians into a tightly knit family. They had faced all kinds of spatial abnormalities, hostile aliens, and their own internal conflicts with her unflinching and passionate leadership. Yet, she had always held herself aloof from them, relaxing certain protocols between captain and crew on one hand, yet maintaining her isolation from them on the other. It was a precarious tightrope necessary to keep her command sacrosanct.

Getting involved in a war between the Borg Collective and Species 8472 shook her off that tightrope with astonishing results. When it was all over, Voyager was 10,000 light years closer to the Alpha Quadrant, a key member of their family, the Ocampa telepath, Kes was gone, and a new member was added to Voyager's crew.

Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to the Unimatrix 01.

Formerly Annika Hansen, she had been the daughter of two unconventional scientists pressing the final frontier in order to study the Borg, who ultimately assimilated them. Seven had been assigned to act as Janeway's liaison during the temporary alliance with the Collective, and circumstances forced Seven's link to be severed from the hivemind. Suddenly, the young woman was now a member of Janeway's crew, carried along with them as they sought their home in the Alpha Quadrant. As Seven's cybernetic implants were removed and her Humanity began to reassert itself, it quite often took the form of confrontations with the woman who had taken her from all she had known, spirited clashes that challenged and tested Kathryn Janeway to her very limits.

Then, they fell in love. No one could have predicted it. No one could have stopped it.

In trying to return Seven's Humanity to her, Janeway rediscovered her own, and where once she walked apart from her crew, by the very nature of her relationship with Seven, Janeway was forced to join the community rather than merely lead it. To the captain's surprise, it did not weaken her position as she had initially feared. Instead, her crew developed a new loyalty to their captain based on more than the mere chain of command. It became one based on a new perception of her Humanity, of her compassion and personality, and where once her crew would have followed the Starfleet captain into the most dangerous situations, now they would follow Kathryn Janeway to the very pits of Hell itself.

Yet, for all that, Kathryn saw Seven was surprised to be kissed while on duty. She knew the younger woman did not realize how profound the changes were that Janeway had gone through, especially recently. There had been a time only a month ago where Janeway had believed Seven dead, lost to her forever, and the young woman's safe return had forced her to realize that there was more she required from life than just being a starship captain, such as the simple need to kiss her partner in the astrometrics lab.

With another smile, more impish this time, Kathryn leaned forward, and wrapped her partner up in a loving embrace, kissing the young blond intently. After some initial hesitation, Seven returned the kiss eagerly, her lips parting beneath Janeway's demanding, yet tender mouth.

"This is different," she said huskily, after they parted, resting her forehead against Janeway's. "You do not normally allow affectionate gestures while we are on duty."

"No I don't," Janeway admitted. "However, I've decided that once in awhile, I'm going to remind you of how very much I love you."

Seven considered that. "I have an eidetic memory," she said uncertainly. "I do not have to be 'reminded'."

"So you're saying you don't want be kissed?" Janeway teased gently.

"No, I am not saying that," Seven responded promptly. "I am merely confused now that your behavior has changed. I wish to know why."

Janeway tilted Seven's chin up so she could look into the pale blue eyes. "I love you, Annika," she said seriously. "I'm never going to let anything get in the way of that again. If I feel like kissing you, I will, all right?"

"Very well," Seven allowed. A pause. "What if I wish to kiss you?"

Janeway took a breath. So she would have to define the parameters after all. But then, was that really so surprising? Seven's unfamiliarity with Humanity was second only to her unfamiliarity with romantic situations. Janeway would never forget the time shortly after they first recognized their relationship when Seven had come onto the bridge and before the whole command staff, told her she was ready to make love now. Since Janeway had not immediately died from the profound humiliation at that moment, it was her belief that anything else Seven came up with would be fairly easy to handle in comparison.

"All right," the captain explained. "Space is pretty quiet right now, and you and I are alone together in relative privacy. If such circumstances arrive, even while on duty, then affectionate gestures are acceptable. When we are in the company of others while on duty, however, then no, there will be no affectionate gestures. However, off duty, they are acceptable at anytime." She paused, thought about that, and realized she better be more specific. "Within limits. We are never going to make love when we have an audience. There is a difference between affection and desire."

"I am aware of the difference," Seven said coolly and Janeway realized that she had been condescending, insulting the young woman slightly. She had to remember that just as she had grown into the relationship, Seven had as well, in some ways more quickly and completely than the captain had.

"I know you are," Janeway said contritely. "I'm sorry Seven. I just don't want there to be any misunderstandings. Can we, perhaps, create a sort of signal between us so that if you're ever unsure about whether I am in a position to accept an affectionate display, we can utilize it?"

Seven nodded. "That would be acceptable."

Janeway laughed suddenly, and Seven looked at her quizzically. "I was just struck by the absurdity of me sitting on the deck in the astrometrics lab discussing what are, and are not, acceptable affectionate gestures while on duty," the captain explained to the mystified blonde. "They never covered this at Starfleet Academy. Maybe they should have."

"Perhaps," Seven allowed. "Is it customary for Starfleet captains to become romantically involved with Borg drones?"

Janeway eyed her, then realized that humor was tinting the pale eyes. "Not really," she allowed dryly, smiling.

"It is highly unlikely it would be on the regular curriculum," Seven noted.

"Though it would be a class everyone would want to join," Janeway said with a wide smile. "So tell me, what should our signal be?"

"You cannot simply tell me that it is not time for such things?" Seven asked.

"I prefer a little more subtlety," Janeway admitted.

"Perhaps you should tell me what the signal should be," Seven said.

Janeway thought. "During times where the situation isn't clear, put your hand on my elbow," she offered. "If I ignore it, then you should back off. If I turn to you, then the affectionate gesture, whatever it is, will be acceptable."

"Very acceptable," Seven said, and promptly put her hands on both of Janeway's elbows, pulling her to her.

Seven had other intentions. She had invited Commander Chakotay to the meal, aware that the ship's first officer was concerned about B'Elanna. Unlike Kathryn, the Borg felt the feisty engineer needed someone much stronger than Tom Paris as her lifemate, and with the trio's recent foray to the Alpha Quadrant, Seven had discovered just how well Chakotay and Torres functioned together. She knew that she had neglected to discuss this with the captain, but since Janeway had not discussed her intentions clearly either, Seven decided that neither took precedence over the other.

Setting down the plate, Seven hesitated as she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, and she leaned heavily on the table. For a moment, she was afraid that she might actually fall, but gradually, it passed, and she was able to stand upright once more. That, undoubtedly, was one of the symptoms the Doctor had told her to be on the alert for. Tomorrow, she would call sickbay and inform him that, while she was not anticipating undergoing the procedure he apparently believed she now required, the symptoms had begun. The procedure would leave her incapacitated for a specific amount of time, and Seven was very concerned about the aesthetic qualities of it. Would Kathryn still look at her the same afterward? For that reason, she had not discussed this topic with her partner, either.

Seven took a breath as the door to the quarters hissed open, and she was gratified to see Kathryn enter; on time for a change. Though the young woman would be forced to admit that, since her return from the Alpha Quadrant, the captain had been scrupulous about maintaining her punctuality. Perhaps Kathryn had indeed changed her habits. Still, they had yet to face a crisis situation in this empty part of space, and Seven knew all bets were off in that circumstance. She wondered where she had acquired that phrase; 'All bets were off?' It must have been something she had picked up from one of the crew.

"Kathryn," she said with pleasure as her partner immediately crossed the room to be embraced.

"Hello, love," Janeway murmured, hugging her gently. "All ready for this evening?"

"Yes," Seven replied, looking down into the eyes which were shaded a vivid blue. "I have programmed the main course into the replicator, Neelix has delivered the requested supplements, and I have uncorked the wine as per your instructions, so that it may 'breathe'."

Janeway smiled. "You make the perfect Starfleet captain's wife," she said dryly.

Seven noted the tone. "Is that good?" she asked suspiciously.

"For tonight at least," the captain said with a short laugh. She regarded Seven fondly. "You don't miss certain inflections anymore, do you?"

"Not yours," Seven said. "I do not always know when you are joking, but I am aware that you are more apt to be facetious when we are off duty. I have learned to note the subtleties of your voice."

"I guess I'll have to watch what I say then," Janeway said lightly. She seemed to notice the table for the first time. "Four place settings? Seven, you didn't invite Tom, did you?"

Seven raised an eyebrow. "No," she responded. "That would have been ... unwise."

Janeway let out a breath. "Yes, it would have," she said. She looked at Seven curiously. "Who else is coming?"

"Commander Chakotay," Seven said. "I invited him this afternoon."

"Why?" Janeway asked, puzzled.

Seven considered her words carefully. "He is B'Elanna's friend," she said finally.

Janeway nodded. "Yes, he is," she said. She rested her palm warmly against Seven's cheek. "That was very thoughtful, Annika."

Seven hoped she still thought so when it became obvious that Chakotay, and not Tom Paris, was the more suitable romantic match for B'Elanna Torres. She knew that Janeway held a fondness for Lt. Paris that went beyond a captain's concern for a crewmember, the young woman believing it had to do with Admiral Owen Paris, Tom's father. She had the opportunity to observe the admiral in the Alpha Quadrant and had been less than impressed with the man. Not that Seven would ever presume to tell Janeway that, keenly aware that for whatever reason, Janeway admired the man greatly. Seven decided it was because of Kathryn's past, when Paris had acted as Janeway's mentor and advisor. Privately, Seven thought that Kathryn far outstripped him in every category, and that the admiral would do very well to have looked to the captain as his mentor, instead of the other way around. She also wondered if Janeway knew B'Elanna had struck him just before leaving DS9.

"I'm going to get changed." Janeway kissed her once more, before pulling away from the warm embrace reluctantly.

"Do you require assistance?" Seven asked evenly.

Janeway shot her a glance over her shoulder, smiling charmingly. "I think not," she said, with gentle humor. "Your assistance usually keeps me from getting dressed at all."

"Only on the occasions when dressing is not the primary goal," Seven reminded her.

She watched Janeway disappear into the bedroom, and swayed slightly as another surge of dizziness went through her. This was most inconvenient. She hoped that she could get through the rest of the evening without requiring the Doctor to attend her. Perhaps, with determination and Borg willpower, she could control her contrary body, and be able to concentrate fully on the dinner party.

The chime at the door indicated the arrival of at least one of their guests, and carefully she went over to it. Either they were early, or Janeway had been a bit late arriving after all. Seven made a note of the time, and discovered it was neither. She frowned, disturbed. How had she missed that? It was not her nature to lose moments of time.

"Hi, Seven." B'Elanna Torres was at the door. "Am I early?"

"No," Seven replied. "You are exactly on time."

She stepped aside to allow the chief engineer to enter the quarters, and showed her to the living area. The door chimed again, and she left B'Elanna on the couch to return to the entrance. She keyed it open to see the tall, dark, handsome Chakotay who was holding a bottle in his hands. Seven accepted it with some bemusement. A tradition she was unaware of, she thought as she took it over to the table rather than point out to the first officer that they already had a bottle of wine. She turned and was gratified to see that Chakotay had joined B'Elanna on the couch rather than taking a chair apart from her. On the coffee table before them, Seven had laid out plates of Neelix's supplements that the Talaxian assured her were the perfect compliment to the meal she had planned. Since neither the first officer nor the engineer saw fit to spit them across the room, Seven assumed that was a correct assessment.

She heard Janeway enter from the bedroom, glancing over to see the captain pause in the doorway long enough to observe her two guests whose heads were bent close together, deep in conversation. Frowning once, Janeway replaced it with a charming smile before going over to them, taking her place in the chair near the couch, joining the conversation smoothly. Seven greatly admired her partner's ability to become a part of any situation so easily. It was not something the Borg was adept at in the slightest, despite all the tutoring she had received at the hands of both the captain and the Doctor.

Seven observed their interaction for a while, then interrupted during the first lull in the discussion. "May I offer you something to drink?" she asked.

Chakotay and B'Elanna looked at her with surprise, Kathryn, with approval.

"I think our guests would appreciate some wine from the bottle Chakotay has brought," Janeway offered. She nodded at the other two. "Excuse me while I help Seven."

"Have I've missed something here?" Janeway asked in a low voice as she joined Seven at the table. The captain was dressed in a simple, dark blue sheath that showed her eyes to their best advantage as well as her firm body. Seven found it quite pleasing.

"You look very beautiful," Seven told her.

Janeway shot her a sharp look. "That wasn't the question," she noted, as she tried to open the bottle of wine, struggling a bit with the cork. "But thank you. Did you have something else in mind when you invited Chakotay, Seven?"

"'Something else'?" Seven dissembled, raising an eyebrow as she retrieved the glasses from the place settings. "Could you be more specific?"

Janeway cast her a considering glance from beneath lowered lashes as she handed Seven the wine bottle. Seven immediately opened it, disdaining the use of the cork screw, and pulled the cork directly from the slender neck with the metal-covered forefinger and thumb of her left hand. Janeway accepted the bottle back with a faint smile.

"Never mind," she said. "I'm being silly accusing you of matchmaking. You've probably never even heard of it." The captain poured the wine into the four glasses, and scooping up two of them, she returned to the living area where she handed them to Chakotay and B'Elanna.

Seven took a breath, reminding herself that it would not be as easy as it seemed when she had first come up with the idea to provide the opportunity for the first officer and the chief engineer to become romantically involved. Kathryn's intention to reunite Paris and B'Elanna would be difficult to divert, and would take some careful maneuvering on her part.

Picking up the other two glasses, she joined Janeway, perching on the arm of the chair beside the captain, and gave her one of the glasses, keeping the other for herself. She sipped the wine, found it too strong for her liking, and contented herself with merely holding it as the conversation covered the various encounters Chakotay, B'Elanna and Seven had experienced on their recent trip to the Alpha Quadrant.

"You should have seen the look on Chakotay's face when that pile of goo he had been stepping over for the last hour, suddenly rose up and arrested him," B'Elanna completed her story with a laugh, elbowing the burly first officer who grinned sheepishly.

"It wasn't quite the end to the adventure I had anticipated," he agreed. He looked at B'Elanna. "It was just like old times for a while, though, wasn't it?" he added in a gentler voice.

She smiled, eyes softening perceptibly. "We did make a good team, didn't we?" she said.

"Still do," he said, smiling back at her.

For a moment they stared at each other, and Seven felt a great deal of satisfaction.

Janeway cleared her throat, interrupting the moment. "I understand that you saw your cousin, Chakotay," she said.

"Yes," he replied, nodding. "He came from Arizona on Earth to tell me exactly what happened with the Maquis." His face sobered as he considered his homeworld. "They didn't stand a chance against the Jem'Hadar."

The conversation turned to the war being fought in the Alpha Quadrant. Seven could tell there was an edge of frustration in their tone. It was hard for the Voyager crew to be stranded in the Delta Quadrant while the Federation, along with their allies, the Klingon Empire and the Romulan Republic, fought against the Cardassians and their Gamma Quadrant allies, the mysterious Dominion. They felt helpless, as if they could somehow turn the entire war around in favor of the Federation if they were there, rather than here. Seven considered that Janeway had faced down all adversaries, from the Borg Collective to packs of Hirogen Hunters, so perhaps that was not as irrational as it sounded. Seven had little doubt that this Dominion would fall quickly before Janeway's indomitable will and determination.

After a short period of time, Janeway invited their guests to move the conversation to the dinner table, where Seven helped Janeway serve the main course; a pasta covered with a light tomato sauce, filled with chunks of vegetables, chicken-flavored protein, and spices. It was a dish created from a recipe by Janeway's mother, Gretchen, and Seven had been quite daring when she programmed it into the replicator. She was glad that the recent upgrades and enhancements B'Elanna had been able to do on the ship's systems had brought the main replication system back on line. Most of the crew, surprisingly, still preferred Neelix's creations in the mess hall, but for those who wanted a taste of home, it was a godsend, perhaps just in time.

Seven was very interested in what Kathryn's reaction would be. The captain tended to pay less than close attention to what she was eating at the best of times, and Seven didn't think Kathryn had even noticed what the dish was ... until she took her first bite.

She stared at Seven. "Annika?" she said in a wondering voice.

"Your mother gave me copies of her recipies, and I programmed them into the replicator buffer," Seven explained. "I trust that I was able to duplicate this one successfully."

"This is great, Seven," B'Elanna said. "I never thought you'd learn how to cook."

"It really is delicious," Chakotay chimed in. He gave her a gentle smile. "I wouldn't mind having the recipe myself."

Janeway just looked at her with warm, shining eyes that filled Seven with a pleasure so great, the young woman thought she would never require any external food source again. She would be able to live simply on the memory of that expression on Kathryn's face.

Which would be wonderful if it were at all possible, Seven thought as she poked at her food unenthusiastically. She was not hungry at the moment even though it was time to ingest her nutritional supplement, and she had to force herself to take a few bites of her pasta, tasting it gingerly. It had an acceptable flavor, but for some reason, it made her uncomfortable when she swallowed. Still, one did not waste food on Voyager, and she made herself finish the small portion she had taken for herself.

The conversation continued in the same vein as it had been in the living area, with the Voyager members discussing the various changes which had occurred in the Federation the past few years. While Seven did not offer much in the way of anecdotes, she enjoyed listening to the rest speak. They lingered over the meal for some time before returning to the living area, where coffee and dessert were served; caramel brownies that were given out by the captain as if they were gold-pressed latinum. Seven did not think the two guests realized how very precious the small, sweet squares were to Janeway, but they seemed reasonably appreciative of the treat. The Borg also received many accolades for the caffeine brew she had prepared, and Seven thought that, if nothing else, she had acquired a few useful skills during her brief time in the Alpha Quadrant. Certainly Kathryn seemed to rank them higher than the Borg's considerable competence with the ship's systems.

Seven supposed that was because her abilities in astrometrics and engineering were somehow assumed of her, whereas her new aptitude with food preparation was completely unexpected, especially considering she had spent the last eighteen years prior to coming to Voyager not eating at all. Instead, her body had received its energy directly from the Borg cube in her regeneration cubicle. Even for the first nine or ten months of her arrival on Voyager, she had regenerated directly from the ship itself. Recently however, she had been forced to change over to solid, organic food as her Human biology asserted itself over her Borg implants.

As the evening progressed, Seven found herself grow increasingly detached. It was with disinterest that she nodded to Chakotay and B'Elanna as they said their good-byes, though she did manage a certain amount of gratification to see that they left together, apparently acquiring a new closeness. She wondered if it would continue in the future, and how she could encourage it.

"I suppose you're quite pleased with yourself," Janeway accused gently as she helped Seven clear the dishes from the table and place them in the recycling unit.

Seven took a breath. "I am unsure as to what you are referring," she said. She felt very strange. It was hard for her to respond properly.

"Making Chakotay and B'Elanna a couple," Janeway said dryly. "It was my intention that Tom and B'Elanna would get back together."

"You will fail," Seven said.

Startled, Janeway stopped what she was doing, her hands full of plates as she regarded Seven with a disturbed expression. "There's a phrase I haven't heard from you in a while," the captain said, suddenly quiet. "Can't say as I've missed it either. Seven, I appreciate that you, for some reason, think Chakotay and B'Elanna are suited to one another, but Tom and B'Elanna did have a good relationship."

"That is irrelevant," Seven said. She did not mean to be saying these things in quite the manner they were being expressed. She could tell that last bit, in particular, angered Janeway.

"Seven, I don't think you should get involved here," Kathryn advised, and there was a coolness to her voice to match Seven's flat tone.

"Irrelevant," Seven repeated. None of this was what she wanted to say but for some reason, she was unable to generate much beyond the clipped responses from her past. She was definitely feeling odd. Dizziness swept over her again, and she rested her weight heavily on her left hand, which was pressed against the table top. The glass in her right, she carefully set down ... or at least she thought she had. Instead, it slipped off the edge and dropped to the floor, shattering.

"Annika." Janeway was beside her. Seven could not remember seeing her move. "Are you all right?" Her voice was no longer annoyed. Instead, concern colored her tone.

"No," Seven replied honestly. She swallowed, her mouth seemingly full of moisture suddenly. "I am ... uncomfortable." She was forced to swallow again, with difficulty.

Janeway put a supportive arm around her waist. "Seven, what's wrong?" she asked. She placed her other hand on Seven's cheek. "You're burning up."

Seven supposed that was not good. She felt a strange sensation about her mid-section, an odd sort of tightness within her, a spasming of sorts, and reflexively, she swallowed again, gulping audibly.

"Oh boy," Janeway said, and was suddenly urging Seven to move, to walk though the younger woman really did not wish to. "Come on, darling. Come with me."

Dazedly, Seven realized Janeway was forcing her into the bathroom, helping her kneel beside the biological waste receptacle unit. She didn't know why, other than the fact that these awful spasms in her midsection made her feel as if her insides were insisting on being on her outside. She kept swallowing and swallowing, and then finally, she couldn't any longer as fluid, thick, and very unpalatable, expelled from her mouth into the bowl.

"It's all right, love," she heard Janeway saying beside her.

Seven thought that was the single, most inaccurate thing the captain had ever said to her. It was not all right, at all.

She wanted to tell Janeway that, but she was unable to, being fully occupied with the fact that her dinner was now leaving her digestive tract in great shuddering heaves. Not only her dinner, she decided,  because she could not remember having consumed the amount of organic material that was now splashing thickly into the porcelain bowl. It was impossible for her to control her body, making her very frustrated ... and not a little frightened.

"K..Kathryn," she managed as the spasms paused briefly, before resuming their grip on her.

"It's a reaction, darling," Janeway said soothingly, pressing her hand against the back of the Borg's neck as Seven heaved again. "You're vomiting. Your dinner must not have agreed with you." Seven could hear the thread of worry in her voice, however.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Seven completed this rather distasteful, and extremely unpleasant, lesson in Human frailty. She leaned weakly against the bowl, shuddering as Janeway flushed the mess away, and gently wiped the Borg's face and mouth with a damp cloth.

"I am not functioning properly," Seven said, breathing hard. Trembling, she grasped Janeway's wrist, looking at her beseechingly.

"I know, darling," Janeway said calmly. "Just be still for a moment." She touched her comm badge. "Janeway to sickbay. Doctor, I need you in my quarters immediately."

Seven took a breath, suddenly aware of what that meant. Kathryn would not be pleased when she found out what the Doctor would have to tell her.

She thought she might just 'vomit' again.

It was a far cry from the woman now huddled in the captain's arms, shaking as she sought all the assurance she could from her ... consolation Janeway did not know how to give, and she hugged her lover, rocking her gently as she stroked the blonde hair, and murmured nonsense words of comfort. It was with profound relief that she heard the hum of the transporter in the outer living area.

"Captain?"  Janeway heard the puzzled tone belonging to her chief medical officer.

"In the bathroom," she responded tersely.

"Hmm, I guess I don't need the dermal regenerator after all," the Doctor said as he entered the bathroom. "I thought you two were having sex, and Seven overstepped her romantic boundaries again."

Janeway took a breath, counted to ten, forcing herself not to lash out verbally as the Doctor ran his medical probe over Seven, staring at his tricorder intently. A slender, sparse form beneath the black and blue uniform, the Emergency Medical Hologram had been forced to function constantly since Voyager had entered the Delta Quadrant, fulfilling the duties as their CMO. As a result, he far exceeded his initial programming, and had actually become what many could call sentient, though one of the hologram's continued failings was a distinct lack of tactful bedside manner.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked edgily as she helped Seven sit up on the side of the tub.

"It's the abdominal implant," he explained, frowning over his readings. "I'll have to remove it sooner than I had anticipated." He favored the captain with a reproving look. "Next time, don't let B'Elanna do Seven's maintenance." He pulled a vial from his medikit, inserted it into his hypospray, and pressed it against Seven's neck.

"What are you talking about?" Janeway demanded as Seven immediately started to look better, her breathing easing as the queasiness was blocked.

The Doctor blinked at her. "The adaptations Lt. Torres had to make in the Alpha Quadrant to allow Seven to bypass her regeneration process," he said in a tone that indicated he thought she knew, or at least, should know. "However, by bypassing the abdominal function, and making it possible for Seven to exist solely on organic food, her body is now starting to reject the implant. It was only a matter of time."

"Why didn't you tell me this?" she said, staring at him accusingly.

"I told her," he responded, somewhat defensively.

They both looked at Seven who returned their regard with a wild stab at her customary control. It did not succeed, and instead, she just appeared mussed, and very distressed. Anxiously, Janeway cupped the young woman's face in her hand, tilting her head up so that she could look into the ice-blue eyes.

"Seven, you knew you were ill?" she asked, dismayed.

"I am not ill," Seven protested weakly. "I was not ... he told me I did not have to have the implant removed yet."

"Well, I've changed my mind," the Doctor said as he continued to take readings from her. "Your body is definitely rejecting the implant. It will have to be removed as soon as possible. I'll schedule the operation for tomorrow morning, and in the meantime, don't eat anything. Try to get as much rest as possible between now and then." He injected her with two more hyposprays. "This will reduce the swelling, and the other will stop any further dizziness."

He stood up, and together with Janeway, they helped Seven to her feet. "I feel unclean," Seven said unsteadily. "I wish to shower."

"Hmm, yes, well, I'll be returning to sickbay then," the Doctor said, fidgeting as he clearly wanted to make his escape.

"Not yet," Janeway said, her voice in its lowest, most dangerous register. "Wait in the living area while I help Seven. I want to talk to you further about this."

The Doctor gave Seven a significant look as he released her. "I hope you realize you got me in trouble," he sniffed as he left the ensuite.

Seven looked after him, then looked at Janeway. "I think I can manage on my own," she said in a small voice.

"Perhaps," Janeway said unrelentingly. "I'm going to help you, anyway." She kept a supportive arm around Seven's waist as together, they removed the skin-tight outfit the younger woman customarily wore. Janeway caught her breath as she saw that the grey ribbing covering the better part of Seven's torso had sunken into her flesh, which was now swollen, the scarred skin puffy and red.

"Seven, you should have told me about this," she said, horrified.

"It was unnecessary," Seven responded, as she hesitantly stepped into the shower cubicle. "Until now. I was functioning properly prior to this evening."

"That's not the point," Janeway said as Seven turned on the hydro-setting, the water washing over her slender form. "You knew this could happen. Seven, I have to know if things aren't all right with you. Why didn't you tell me about B'Elanna having to bypass your implant?"

Seven moved sluggishly under the cascade, leaning heavily against the side of the cubicle. The captain kept a judicious eye on her partner, ready to step and catch her if she looked like she was about to fall.

"Why did you not ask?" the Borg replied shortly. "I was required to regenerate every 96 hours prior to being transported to the Alpha Quadrant. I could not there. Since I did not die, obviously, a way around it was discovered. "

Janeway took another breath, counted to fifty slowly as anger and hurt rushed through her. "Seven, I'm trying very hard to be a better partner for you," she said quietly. "But I need your help, too."

Seven was silent for a long while, obviously hearing the distress in her voice though Janeway had tried to mask it. "I am sorry, Kathryn," she said contritely. "You are correct. I should have told you. I ... I was afraid."

Janeway blinked. "Of what?" she asked. She hesitated. "Of me?"

Seven turned off the water and still dripping, walked carefully over to the sink, leaning heavily on the counter as she drew on a variety of oral cleaners and fresheners from the small shelves recessed into the wall below the large mirror, rinsing her mouth several times in a effort to get rid of all remaining traces of her bout with vomiting. Janeway picked up a towel and began to dry her off, being very gentle in the area around the implant, trying to be patient as she waited for Seven to respond to her question.

Finally, Seven looked at Janeway's reflection in the mirror, her eyes sad and perplexed. "This all must be removed," she said, gesturing slightly to the implant covering her midsection. "I will no longer be as I am. I will be different."

Janeway took a long blue flannel robe from the hook and draped it over Seven's narrow shoulders as she attempted to figure out what was causing this anxiety in her partner. "Annika," she said softly. "Any changes created by removing your implant will be external only. You'll still be the same person."

"That is incorrect," Seven said. "I will no longer be able to remain awake for days. I will no longer be able to draw energy directly from the ship. I will no longer have as much immunity to many types of radiations and disease. I will no longer be as physically strong. I will no longer be as efficient. I will be different. I will be less than I am."

"Seven, why are you frightened of that?" Janeway asked, trying hard to understand.

"I am afraid...." Seven bent her head, looking at the floor. "I do not know if you can love a different me. A lesser me."

Janeway caught her breath, feeling tears sting the back of her eyes. "Oh, Annika, you will not be 'lesser'," she said huskily. "If I were to become ill, if I were unable to continue as captain of this vessel, would you stop loving me?"

Seven raised her head with a jerk, looking at the captain's reflection with startled eyes. "I will never stop loving you," she told her.

"And I will never stop loving you," Janeway said, putting her hand on Seven's cheek, urging her face around so that she was looking fully at her. "Annika, my love for you is just as strong as yours is for me, please believe that."

Seven eyed her uncertainly. "You require a mate who is strong, who is capable," she said.

"I require you and only you," Janeway replied firmly. She drew Seven's head down so that she could kiss her gently on the forehead. "Don't you ever do this again," she commanded in an irrefutable tone. "Don't you ever keep things from me that you know might hurt you."

"I will not," Seven replied softly. "I promise." She rested her head against Janeway's, closing her eyes. "I am afraid that this will hurt me, Kathryn. I do not want to be hurt."

Janeway took a breath. "I know," she said, hugging the narrow shoulders gently, cupping the flushed cheek in her palm. "We'll do everything in our power to see that it doesn't. I'm right here with you, Annika. You're not alone."

Seven did not reply. Instead, she entwined her arms around Janeway's neck and hugged her tightly, eyes closed as she rested her cheek against the smaller woman's temple. Janeway held her gingerly, but lovingly, not wanting to cause her partner any pain. For long moments they stood in their embrace, Janeway trying to give Seven as much reassurance as she knew how to give.

"Come on, love," Janeway said finally. "I want you to get into bed. I need to speak with the Doctor about this."

Seven nodded and allowed Janeway to lead her out into the bedroom where Janeway pulled back the covers on the bed and helped Seven get in, drawing the blankets up over her as she bent down to kiss her forehead. "I'll be back shortly," she murmured. "Try to sleep." She stroked Seven's cheek gently with her fingertips before leaving her.

The Doctor had just finished cleaning up the shattered splinters of glass on the floor by the table when Janeway came out. He put the crystal shards in the recycling unit and faced her, raising his hands defensively.

"I couldn't tell you," he said.

"Why not?" Janeway responded coldly. She was furious, but she was not going to allow that to control her responses here.

"Captain, either Seven is an responsible, independant member of this crew, or she is not," he explained. "If she is an adult, if it does not directly endanger the ship, and she requests that I not share the results of her medical exam, then I cannot breach that confidentiality for anyone, not even the captain."

"What about for her partner?" Janeway said tightly.

"I'm sorry, Captain" he responded. "It had to be her decision."

Janeway took a breath and walked away, pacing about the room. "What are we looking at?" she said.

"The entire implant must be removed," he explained solemnly. "This is not how I would have chosen to do it, however. My plan was to remove one band at a time over a space of months as her body adapted to utilizing organic food to get its energy. Her impromptu trip to the Alpha Quadrant, and Lt. Torres's need to alter the implant, altered the time factor considerably."

"Is this more dangerous than your original plan?" she said, turning to face him, hands on her hips. Unbidden, a muscle jumped in her jaw, her gaze, a solid grey slate behind which she tried to hide her worry and fear. "Removing it all at once?"

"Yes," he admitted. "Considerably so. It's massive surgery, and very time consuming. I will require someone to monitor her vitals at all times, while I remove all the connections to her digestive system." He sighed. "It's times like this that I really miss Kes. I don't think Mr. Paris is really up to this sort of thing."

Janeway nodded. It occurred to her that she should have made others in the crew train with the Doctor. His abrasive manner made him a difficult person to work with, but the fact was, the ship needed more in the way of medical personnel. As much as she had faith in the piloting abilities of Lt. Paris, she would not have chosen Tom to participate in such a delicate operation, either. She completely understood the Doctor's dismay over Kes's loss, regretting the Ocampa's absence bitterly.

"Any other options?" she asked. "Is there anyone else who can assist you?"

He hesitated.

"Doctor?" She raised her head, eyes narrowing.

"I do have one idea," he said slowly. "One I've been considering for a while. Kes's profile is in the computer. I would like to create a holographic medical assistant based on her knowledge, her skill and her familiarity with working in sickbay. However, it would require a great deal of power from the ship to create her, though, if we could bring the ship to a stop, and with the assistance of Lt. Torres and Lt. Kim, I think the emitter upgrades Voyager got from the Alpha Quadrant could have the hologram up and running by tomorrow morning."

Janeway looked at him, eyes dark. "Kes?" she said.

"Well, it wouldn't exactly be her, of course," he offered. "Utilizing the last profile we had on Kes, would give us a useful matrix however, and if we base it on my algorithms, allow it to access the medical data base, then perhaps we could create a hologram that could begin assisting me right away, and have the capacity to learn, just as I do."

Janeway took a breath and walked away. She didn't know how comfortable she was with the idea of having a holographic matrix based on the woman who was no longer with them ... the woman who had been a dear friend ... even if it could be done. She leaned against the windows that dominated one side of the room, looking out at the black depths of space, seeking inspiration there, some sort of sign to help her make a decision like this on such short notice.

Would they be any worse off if they tried and failed?

She touched her comm badge. "Helm, bring the ship to a full stop," she said quietly. "Maintain station-keeping here until further notice." She turned and looked at the Doctor. "Let me change into my uniform. I want to help."

He nodded, and she went back into the bedroom. Seven was sleeping uneasily on her side of the bed, though she woke as Janeway was pulling on the uniform she had discarded earlier in the evening.

"Kathryn?" Seven blinked sleepily.

Janeway came over and sat on the edge of the bed next to her lover. "Seven, the Doctor's come up with an idea to make tomorrow go a little smoother," she explained, resting the back of her knuckles lightly on Seven's cheek. "But I need to help him."

"I will help as well," the Borg said, attempting to sit up.

"No, Annika," the captain instructed in the firm resolute voice that Seven had learned not to argue with. "If you wish, you can go to sickbay where you can sleep on a biobed, or you can stay here, in our bed, but you will sleep. Do I need to have the Doctor administer a sedative?"

Seven shook her head. "No," she replied. "I will sleep here. I do not require a sedative."

"All right," Janeway said. She leaned over and kissed her gently. "I'll return as soon as possible, my love. Call me if you need anything."

She kissed her once more and quickly she left the room to join the Doctor. She touched her comm badge as they left her quarters. "Lt. Torres, Lt. Kim, Lt. Paris, general alert. I require your presence in holodeck one."

"A hologram based on her, yes," the Doctor said patiently.

"Why Kes?" Harry Kim asked.

"Because she is the only one on the ship who had the knowledge to assist in such an operation," the Doctor explained. "Her profile is the only one that we could use on such short notice. Other than mine. We could always create another me," he added brightly.

"I think Kes is a good idea," Tom Paris put in quickly. He was standing next to the captain, as far away from B'Elanna as he could get. Not because he didn't want his ex-lover back, but because the engineer had a way of smacking him briskly across the head when he least expected it. "Are you sure I can't do this, Doc?"

"You're our backup, Mr. Paris," the captain interjected smoothly. She nodded at him. "If this doesn't work, then you will be assisting the Doctor tomorrow. I'm sorry to have called you out of your holo-program, but I need you to retire for the evening, and get as much sleep as you can."

"I understand," the boyish helmsman said soberly. He nodded at the rest and left immediately.

"What can I do?" Chakotay asked.

Janeway wasn't sure why the first officer had shown up with B'Elanna other than the possibility that they had been together when the call went through to the chief engineer, and he had tagged along out of curiosity. In any event, she could not find it in her heart to condemn this development; she was just grateful he was here. It saved her a great deal of time.

"Chakotay, I need you to cover my duties for the next few days," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Inform the crew that holodeck one is off limits for the time being, and that we will be maintaining our position here in space until the operation is complete."

The broad-shouldered first officer brushed the tattoo over his left eye with his thumb in an unconscious gesture of worry. "I understand," he said. "The operation will take place here?"

"If we can get the Kes hologram to work," Janeway said. "After that, we'll see about transferring the matrix to sickbay to act as the Doctor's assistant, but for now, we'll take it one step at a time."

"All right," he said. He rested his hand on her arm. "Good luck."

"Thanks," she said, and watched him leave. He was a dear man, a good friend, and he could do much worse than becoming involved with B'Elanna. Certainly, he was unlikely to ever do better. If only Janeway was not so fond of Tom Paris. She knew her helmsman loved the engineer implicitly, yet, even Janeway had to admit that sleeping with someone else, even though Tom thought B'Elanna had been dead at the time, was a bit much to overcome. She suspected Seven had a distinct advantage in this little competition.

She took a breath, and tried not to show her worry about her partner as she turned to the others in the room. "Okay, people," she said. "Where do we start?"

"Building the matrix," Harry replied promptly. "Get the form first, then we'll be able to download the personality profile into it."

It was a painstaking process, not helped by the time constraints they were working under. The only advantage they had was the fact that both B'Elanna Torres and Harry Kim were brilliant in their fields, both of which were eminently suited for such a project. Janeway was not bad in the scientific department either, and there was no one with more knowledge about medical holograms than the Doctor himself. In the end, however, it was the enhanced holo-emitters that had been brought back from the Alpha Quadrant that not only gave the proper form to the hologram, but allowed it to function as well.

"Well, Captain," B'Elanna said wearily as they stared at the small, slender woman before them. "We may never be able to get her to work outside of this room, and the power drain on the rest of the systems was phenomenal, but it's Kes."

Janeway nodded, but privately she did not agree. Oh, the form was right, the voice, even the personality to a certain degree but there was something lacking. The warmth, the empathy that had surrounded the woman she had known was simply not there, but if it meant that the Doctor had an able assistant while he operated on Seven, then she was satisfied.

"Doctor?" she asked.

"We'll prepare the holodeck for surgery," he responded promptly. Unlike the rest of them, he was still as fresh as when they had started. "We'll transport Seven directly here in three hours."

"You may want to spend some time with her, Captain," the Kes-hologram said gently.

Janeway managed a tired smile. That was like Kes all right, even without that sorely missed, undefinable element.

"Thank you," she said. "In a few hours then." She looked at Kim and B'Elanna who were practically out on their feet. "This was very good work people," she told them sincerely as they left the holodeck. "Well done."

"I'd say 'any time', Captain," Lt. Kim said with a half smile. "But I hope Seven never has to go through this again."

"I agree with you there, Mr. Kim," she said. "Take the next few days off. You've earned them."

He smiled tiredly, nodded in gratitude and headed for the mess hall. Janeway looked at B'Elanna who was walking listlessly down the corridor. "You too, B'Elanna," she said.

"I don't feel like I've earned anything, Captain," she said quietly. "If it hadn't been for me, Seven wouldn't be in this mess."

Janeway put her hand comfortingly on the Klingon's shoulder. "Belay that," she ordered gently. "You probably saved her life in the Alpha Quadrant. If you hadn't been with her...." She shook her head. "I really don't want to think about what might have happened in that case."

B'Elanna took a breath. "I'll try to keep that in mind," she said, a little less depressed. The Klingon shrugged the captain's hand off, and used her own at Janeway's back to propel her down the corridor. "She needs you, Captain. Go be with her."

Janeway was only too glad to obey that 'order'. Quickly, she went to her quarters, entering them quietly and tiptoed across the living area to the bedroom. She paused a moment in the doorway to watch Seven sleeping uneasily in the center of the bed, curled up like a child seeking shelter against the coolness of the night. Carefully the captain moved over to sit next to her, reclining against the headboard. Seven stirred, blinked sleepily, and shifted position slightly so that her head was resting on Janeway's lap.

"How are you feeling, love?" Janeway asked softly, as she stroked the blonde hair, smoothing the wild locks with gentle fingers.

"I am uncomfortable," Seven admitted. "I do not think I will ... vomit again, however."

Janeway smiled faintly. "That's good," she said. "I'm too tired to dodge."

"Were you successful in helping the Doctor?" Seven asked weakly.

Janeway rested her hand on the flushed cheek, frowning at the heat she felt there. "I think so," she said. "They'll be transporting you to the holodeck in a little while."

"Will you come with me?" Seven asked in a small voice.

"Of course I will, love," Janeway promised. "I'll be just outside the sterilizing field the entire time. You'll be unconscious, you know."

"I will be aware that you are there," Seven replied with certainty.

"That's all that matters," Janeway said softly, leaning down to kiss her tenderly.

She spent the rest of the time just holding the younger woman, telling her all about their efforts to create a Kes-hologram, assuring her that things would be perfectly all right, until her communicator finally chirped.

"Go ahead," she said.

"It's time, Captain," the Doctor's voice told her.

She slipped out from under Seven and stood up beside the bed. Finding the blue robe which she slipped onto Seven as the Borg uncertainly got out from beneath the covers, Janeway made sure that Seven was standing all right, then touched her comm badge.

"Proceed," she said, and felt the subtle vibration of the transporter beam surround them, carrying them away.

She made a sound, swallowing against a sandpaper throat, looking around. Her head felt too heavy to lift, and it was an effort to even move her eyes. A face appeared in her line of vision, female, pretty, with long pointed ears and shaggy blonde hair cut short. This was the Kes-program, Seven thought. Perhaps she was not in sickbay after all. This was probably holodeck one.

"It's all right, Seven," the hologram told her gently, in a lyrical voice. She held up a container with a straw. "Here, I know you must be thirsty. Drink this."

Gratefully, Seven took in the sweetened fluid, feeling it spread cool and refreshing through her, soothing the ravaged edges of her insides. The Kes-hologram kept her from drinking it too quickly, allowing her to sip at it for only a brief time.

"What is my location?" Seven asked weakly, startled at the harshness of her own voice.

"You are in sickbay," the Kes explained.

"Then, they were successful at moving your matrix from the holodeck?"

"Yes, I am now functioning in this room," the Kes said.

"The ship ... was the drain on the systems overcome?"

The Kes smiled. "How interesting," she said.

"What?"

"You have just awakened three days after a major operation, and your first thoughts are about the functionality of my matrix," she said.

"That was the topic," Seven noted, slightly irritated. "I am not supposed to change the subject in a conversation. People find it rude." A lesson drilled into her by the Doctor. Why was she the only one expected to abide by these silly socialization rules?

"It was not meant as a criticism," the Kes soothed.

"Where is Captain Janeway?" Seven asked abruptly, no longer interested in speaking with the hologram.

"Not far," the Kes said. She motioned slightly with her chin, and Seven turned her head to see the huddled form of the captain curled up on a biobed not too far away, still dressed in her uniform, a sheet draped over her haphazardly. She was sound asleep, head resting on her hands, dark shadows under her eyes even in her slumber.

Seven felt sad and wonderful and amazed all at the same time. "She stayed with me," she said softly. "She said she would."

The Kes nodded. "She did not leave your side for a moment," she told her gently. "Not even when we were sure you would make it."

Seven raised an eyebrow weakly. "There was some doubt?"

The Kes looked distressed. "That slipped out," she said with a little reproach at herself in her voice. "I think perhaps I have too much of the Doctor's beside manner in me. Or perhaps it is B'Elanna's contribution to my personality matrix."

"Was I in danger?" Seven insisted calmly.

The hologram hesitated, which Seven observed with fascination. Clearly they had done a phenomenal job on creating this program. It was very personable, almost sentient. Her analytical mind ticked over the programming code necessary for such a thing, found it staggering even for her expanded intelligence.

"There were a few very bad moments during, and immediately after the surgery," the Kes explained reluctantly. "We actually thought we had lost you at one point, but fortunately, your nanoprobes activated to repair the bleeding."

"That is their function," Seven remarked absently. That explained the dark shadows beneath Kathryn's eyes, the lines of tension that were present even as she slept. Seven had discovered upon returning from the Alpha Quadrant that her existence was as necessary for the captain's proper functioning as Kathryn's was for hers. The younger woman tried to reach out a hand to touch Janeway, but the distance between the two beds was too great. She looked at the hologram.

"Take me to her," she demanded.

The Kes rolled her eyes. "Oh, I can see you're going to be a joy in recovery," she said, but the hologram did as instructed and pushed the biobed over until it was adjacent to the one Janeway was sleeping on.

Gently, Seven touched Kathryn's cheek, stroking it carefully with her mesh covered knuckles. She wished the positions were reversed so that she could be using her completely Human hand rather than the implant. Janeway flinched at the cool metal, taking a deep breath as her eyes opened to reveal a bleary grey gaze that immediately shaded to blue when she saw Seven. A gentle expression crossed her face, one of gratitude and pleasure, a half smile touching her lips.

"Hi there," she said softly, reaching up to capture Seven's hand in her own.

"Hello," Seven said as they entwined fingers, being very careful with her grip.

Janeway rose up on her elbow so she could look down at her, and Seven no longer needed to twist her head fully to the side. "How are you feeling?"

"Very odd," Seven said. "Discomfort, not pain. Tight around my torso. I cannot move."

"No," Janeway said, smiling. "Not for a few more days anyway. You're still healing."

Seven was suddenly afraid. "Am I ... what is my present condition?" she asked.

"Shh," Janeway soothed her, moving closer to rest her fingers on Seven's cheek. "It's all right, Annika. Your implant has been removed and everything's fine. The flesh on your abdomen and back is regenerating. The tightness you feel is the gel medipac encasing the area. It's part of the biobed so you really can't get up for awhile."

Seven considered that. "How much longer?" she asked.

"Three more days," the Kes interrupted then. "That's when we'll remove the medipac."

Seven started a bit. She had forgotten the hologram's presence. "Where is the Doctor?" she asked.

"He's down in engineering," the Kes answered promptly. "He wants Lt. Torres to reproduce his personal emitter so that I can move about the ship."

"Lt. Torres must be appropriately grateful for his assistance," Seven noted.

"I'm sure she is," the Kes replied brightly. "I have to update the files. If you'll excuse me." She nodded at them both and drifted off across sickbay to the office where she began to input data into the computer.

Seven glanced at Janeway, and saw that her partner had caught her attempt at sarcasm. It felt odd to be in a situation where there was someone even less aware of the concept than she. The captain bent down beside the young woman so she could whisper in her ear.

"It's not nice to tease the holograms, darling," she said.

"I will be here for three days," Seven noted in a low voice. "I will require some form of entertainment."

Janeway laughed and rested her chin lightly on Seven's forehead, closing her eyes. "You've been picking up my sense of humor, I believe," she said.

"Perhaps," Seven said. She closed her eyes. "Kathryn, you have been causing yourself damage. I do not require you to stay with me any longer. I would like you to return to our quarters and eat something before you go to bed," she said.

"Is that an order, Seven?" Janeway asked gently, but dangerously.

"Yes," Seven said.

"Annika, you can't keep me from worrying about you," Janeway told her. "I care too much."

Seven opened her eyes, looked up at her. "I know, but now you are causing me to worry about you," she responded.

There was a pause, then Janeway laughed again, low in her throat. "All right. I'll go home in a while," she promised. "But I'm going to stay here until you go to sleep."

"That will be acceptable," Seven said, knowing that it would not take long. Already she felt drowsiness stealing over her. "Sleep well, Kathryn."

"You too, my darling." It was the last thing Seven heard as she slipped into the welcoming darkness.

The soft chime at her door made her raise her head, and she blanked her screen. "Come in," she said.

Lt. Commander Tuvok, her Vulcan security chief, entered the room. Tall, dark-skinned, with elegantly pointed ears, he was a somber figure and her close friend of many years, the person on the ship she had known the longest. Pleased, she got up and motioned him to the upper level of her ready room.

"Tuvok," she said. "Join me in a cup of coffee. What brings you in here?" She noted that he held no padds and since things had been relatively quiet for some time, she had not needed to consult with him lately, realizing that she missed his steady friendship.

"I have a serious matter to discuss with you, Captain," he said, sitting down gingerly in a chair.

"I see," she said. She took a seat on the couch and picked up the silver carafe which kept her coffee continually hot. He shook his head as she offered him some, and she poured the brew only into her own cup. With a quiet pleasure, she sipped the dark fluid before looking at him directly. "What is it?"

"It is about the Kes program," he began carefully. "I must object to its continuation."

Surprised, Janeway eyed him over the top of her cup. She took another sip and lowered it to her lap, wrapping her other hand around the smooth porcelain, warming them by its heat. "I have to say, I'm somewhat surprised," she said slowly. "I was under the impression that you and Kes got along well."

"She was my friend, Captain," Tuvok said, and Janeway knew what that meant. It was not something a Vulcan said lightly. "That hologram is not Kes."

"No, it isn't," Janeway agreed. She studied him carefully. "You have an objection to using her form?"

"There is a reason there are rules about using living personalities in holodeck simulations," Tuvok said. "It is easy for others, Humans in particular, to begin accepting such holograms as a true substitute for the person in question."

"And you think by having the hologram be in Kes's form, have it based on her personality profile, that it somehow dishonors her memory?" Janeway asked.

"Partly," Tuvok allowed. He raised an eyebrow. "Captain, do you believe the Doctor is sentient?"

Janeway hesitated. She had been about to answer in the affirmative immediately, almost without thinking. That gave her pause. She had never really discussed it with anyone before.

"I think so," she allowed slowly, turning the concept over in her mind, analyzing it with a scientific eye. "I believe he is capable of independent thought, that he is capable of learning. He has a right to his existence." She put her cup down on the coffee table and folded her hands on her lap. "You don't think so?"

"He is a hologram, Captain," Tuvok said evenly. "He is not considered to be alive by any regulation or law recognized by Starfleet or the Federation. If we were to return to the Alpha Quadrant tomorrow, it is entirely possible that he would be reprogrammed to reflect the current standards of the EMH systems, or simply deactivated. His matrix would definitely be decompiled if Voyager were to be taken out of service for whatever reason."

The Captain bent her head slightly, her lips thinning. "And your point, Tuvok?" she said gently. She knew Tuvok did not bring this up to be cruel or harsh. He was trying to make a very important contribution that he felt she was missing here.

"If he has indeed achieved sentience, Captain," Tuvok said, "it is entirely possible that the Kes program will as well."

"And you have an objection to holograms transcending their programming," Janeway asked, frowning.

"I have an objection to creating beings capable of sentience for the sole purpose of having them serve us," he said, finally making it clear enough for the captain to comprehend his meaning.

That was like a punch in the gut. Suddenly, Janeway's entire perception of the EMH and his assistant were turned upside down.

"You're suggesting that we're creating slaves," she said bleakly.

"Holograms are not lifeforms, Captain," he said. "They are created to serve a variety of purposes. They are used not just as EMH programs, but as a form of entertainment, as instruments of instruction, even as sexual surrogates. They are constructs of light and gravimetric elements which give them form and structure. They do not live. Yet, for whatever reason, I too, believe the Doctor has become sentient, has become a living being. When did that moment occur? Why did he become a lifeform rather than a construct? And what caused it?"

Janeway took a breath. "I don't know," she admitted. "How can any of us know?"

Tuvok stared at her with his steady, even gaze. "Do you remember the Omega molecule, Captain?" he asked. "What you said when we were staring into its light?"

"That the final frontier has some boundaries that shouldn't be crossed," she said. "You believe that this is one of those times."

"I am saying that it is entirely possible that we are acting somewhat irresponsibly here," he offered. "I am curious, Captain. Your Leonardo da Vinci program? On one occasion, his matrix was transferred to the mobile emitter, and he spent time on a planet exposed to an extremely high level of technology. You have run his program since then. Has the matrix altered in ways you have not expected?"

Janeway stared at her coffee cup, not wanting to answer him. "I removed the memories of his little adventure from the program," she admitted finally, shamefully. "He kept wanting to go to France, to create a flying machine. It was not the da Vinci I knew and wanted ... so I changed him back."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow, refusing to comment.

She looked at him with troubled eyes. "Is it possible I took away his sentience, his capacity to expand and grow? What right did I have to do that if indeed, he was on the verge of becoming ... alive?"

"It was not my intention to cause you anxiety," he said gently. "I only wished to voice my concerns about the course on which we are embarking."

Janeway leaned forward, covering her eyes with her hands. "Tuvok, you don't give me easy ones, do you?" she said wearily, voice muffled. She took her hands away, taking a breath. "What do you suggest? That we delete the Kes program?"

"I do not know, Captain," Tuvok said. "There appear to be no easy answers."

"That much I can agree with," she said. She patted his arm gently. "Thank you for coming to me, Tuvok. This is something that we need to address."

"I believe so, Captain," he said. He stood, then hesitated. "What is Seven's current condition?"

Janeway smiled at him. "She's coming along very well," she said as she walked him down the stairs, hand tucked comfortably under his arm, contrary to all protocols regarding Human/Vulcan relations. "The medipac is being removed today. Have you had a chance to see her?"

"I have stopped by on a few occasions," he said. "Her personality is suffering from a marked degree of steadily increasing impatience the longer she is confined."

"You noticed that too, did you?" Janeway said dryly. "She's never liked being helpless, and I can't say as I blame her."

"It is a difficult situation," he noted.

"In many ways," she agreed. She saw him to the door, then returned to the upper level of her ready room and her coffee. She stood and sipped it, staring pensively out at space, at the warp field which distorted the surrounding stars, making it appear as if they were passing by in long streaks of light. Her chief of security had given her much to think about.

The problem was, what was she going to do about it?

"Seven, how are you feeling?" the Kes asked, hovering over her.

"The same way I did the last time you asked," Seven replied sullenly. "And the time before that."

"It won't be much longer," the Kes soothed.

"It has been entirely too long now," Seven grumbled.

"Seven, quit whining," a new voice said.

Seven craned her head around, trying to see the newcomer. "B'Elanna Torres," she identified, then protested grumpily. "I am not whining."

"I know whining," B'Elanna said as she moved to the side of the bed. "God knows, I heard it enough from Paris. You were whining."

Seven took a breath and counted to ten. It was a suggestion of Kathryn's. She did not find it eased her irritation at all, though arguing with B'Elanna would be a great deal more invigorating than talking to the Kes program. It merely smiled and agreed with everything she said which only increased her frustration. Even now, it promptly drifted off, giving way to the chief engineer, and forestalling Seven's anticipated pleasure in telling it to go away.

"Did you come to visit me?" Seven asked hopefully, looking back at the Klingon.

"No, I'm here to check out Kes's matrix," B'Elanna replied. "But I guess I can visit you for a few moments. You're being a real bitch today, huh?"

"I do not mean to," Seven said. She wondered what a bitch was and searched her memories. She frowned. "How do I resemble a female canine?"

B'Elanna laughed. "That wasn't what I meant," she said. "For the record, it wasn't a complaint either." She took a seat on the next biobed where Seven didn't have to twist her neck to see her. "I hear they're letting you out today."

"That is what the Doctor says," Seven said, anticipation coloring her tone. "They will remove the gel medipac and use dermal regenerators to heal the outer layer of skin."

"Well, there's something to look forward to," B'Elanna noted dryly. She looked at Seven. "Has the captain been in yet?"

"This morning before her duty shift," Seven said. She felt suddenly ashamed. "I was rude to her."

The Klingon snickered. "Yeah, what did you say?"

"I told her that I did not like her hair," she admitted. "I do not know why I said that. I always love her hair. It is beautiful."

"I'm sure she didn't take it personally," B'Elanna said in a gentler tone.

"I would," Seven said, dismayed. She looked at B'Elanna beseechingly. "Will you tell her that her hair is beautiful? They will not allow me to have a comm badge ... anymore."

"I think you can tell her yourself," B'Elanna said, grinning as the slight hiss of the door heralded the arrival of Voyager's captain.

Seven turned her head around. Janeway smiled as she approached the bed.

"Your hair is beautiful," Seven told her with great sincerity.

Startled, Janeway blinked, then offered her that soft look, the shy, surprised but very pleased one that Seven loved so dearly. "Thank you," she said. She nodded at B'Elanna. "Keeping my officer company, I see."

"She chased away everyone else," B'Elanna said. "But I like bitchy women ... being one myself."

"Ah," the Captain noted. She rested her hand casually on the bed, and none of them affected to notice when Seven entwined her fingers with those of the captain. "Where are we on the plasma relay refinements?"

"They're coming," B'Elanna said. She lowered her voice. "They'd come a lot faster if you'd get the Doctor out of my hair. He's down there now ragging on Vorik to work on the mobile emitter some more."

"I will have a word with the Doctor," the captain said, and there was an odd tone in her voice that caught Seven's attention. Curiously the younger woman looked at her partner. There was something bothering Kathryn, and Seven wondered what it was.

The captain looked down at her and smiled, squeezing her hand gently. "How are you feeling?"

Seven started to reply, stopped as she reconsidered what she had been about to say. Instead she just pressed her lips together, frowning slightly.

Janeway tilted her head slightly. "Seven?"

"I was going to be rude again," Seven admitted. "I do not want to be rude to you anymore."

Janeway considered that for a moment. "You do get asked that question a lot, don't you?" she said, comprehension lighting her eyes.

"It always has the same answer," Seven said miserably. "I feel the same. Discomfort, not pain. Tightness around my torso. I cannot move."

"I'm sorry, Seven," Janeway said compassionately. "It won't be for much longer."

"Everyone says that as well," Seven wailed. "It is an eternity."

"Oh my, she's learned to exaggerate, hasn't she?" B'Elanna prodded.

Seven glared at her. She did not notice she no longer felt miserable.

"When I am released," Seven said coldly, with precise deliberation. "I am going to strike you."

To her astounded dismay, B'Elanna laughed. "You'll have to catch me when I'm not looking," she warned amiably. "'Cause if I see you coming, I'll knock you flat on your ass, Borg."

Janeway cleared her throat. "I don't believe I need to hear my crewmembers threatening each other with physical violence," she said pointedly.

The Doctor materialized suddenly, looking at them all with great cheerfulness. Seven had noted a marked improvement in his personality since the Kes program had been initiated. She wondered why.

"Captain. Are you here for the great unveiling?" he said, beaming at Janeway.

"That's my cue to go work on Kes," B'Elanna offered, sliding off the bed she had been sitting on. "I'll run the diagnostics in your office, Doc."

"All right," he agreed. He immediately dismissed the engineer from his mind, not looking at her as he peered at Seven's midsection under the sheet. "This shouldn't take long, Seven, but first we need a little privacy."

He activated a force field about the immediate area, solid sheets of blue light that enclosed them, concealing the three from any outside eyes that might happen by. "Captain, if you could move to the head of the bed, I'll get started on the gel pac." He leaned forward and added confidentially, just as if Seven's head was not lying directly between the two officers. "Try to keep her occupied. She really shouldn't see this."

Seven looked at Janeway in alarm, and the captain patted her shoulder soothingly as she moved to the end of the table. "He's joking," she told her.

"It is not funny," Seven snapped.

"Everyone's a critic," he muttered as he bent over Seven's midsection, draining the fluid from the medipac encasing the young woman's torso, then using a laser scalpel to carefully slice down each side of it, peeling it back from the raw flesh.

Janeway took the sheet from the bottom of the bed and draped it modestly over Seven's chest as the upper portions were cut away, keeping eye contact with Seven. "Seven, try to be patient," she murmured gently.

"I will try," Seven replied testily.

She felt strange as the pac was removed from her and her freedom of motion returned. Everything was oddly numb between her hips and her shoulders and she flexed experimentally, trying to figure out what exactly was different.

"Stay still, Seven," the Doctor ordered as he washed away the remains of gelatinous fluid from her torso. He ran a dermal regenerator over her abdomen, then with Janeway's assistance, rolled Seven over, and repeated the process on her back.

Seven was unable to see much of what was going on, Janeway being very conscientious about keeping the sheet between her eyes and the rest of her body. Seven would have been irritated, but for the fact she was too excited at being able to move again. Finally, they returned her to her back and helped her sit up. Janeway draped the sheet around her shoulders and Seven eagerly looked down at her abdomen.

She was appalled.

"What is this?" she asked, her finger shaking as she pointed at the area just above her pubic mound.

"It's your navel, Seven," Janeway said with gentle puzzlement.

"No, that," she said. "The indentation."

Janeway blinked. "Your belly button?"

"My what?"

"What's the problem here?" the Doctor said testily. "You perfer an outie?"

Seven just stared at him, confused. "It is a scar," she said. "Why did you leave such an apparent flaw in my flesh?" She looked at Janeway who had the expression on her face that Seven had learned to recognize as an attempt to conceal amusement.

"Seven, it's not a scar," she said gently.

"Well, technically, it is a scar," the Doctor corrected. "It's where the umbilical cord was attached when you were born, but everyone keeps it, Seven."

Seven blinked. "Everyone maintains it?" she asked the captain anxiously. "Not just you?"

Janeway shook her head. "No, Seven," she said. "I am not unique in this respect. Did you really think I was?"

"I asked you where you got it," Seven reminded her. "You said it happened when you were born. You did not tell me it was an affectation everyone kept."

"Clearly an oversight on my part," Janeway noted dryly.

"Does it hurt?" Seven asked, studying hers with concern. "You always make an odd sound and move away when I touch yours, so I try not to touch it." She looked up quickly to see Janeway blushing and the Doctor smirking. "What?"

Janeway hesitated. "I move away because I'm ticklish, Seven," she admitted quietly, and glared at the Doctor who was staring at the ceiling with great interest.

"Ticklish?" Seven was confused again. "What is that?"

"You've never tickled her?" the Doctor said with disbelief, dropping his head to stare at the Captain.

"I didn't think it was anything she needed to know," Janeway said frostily.

The Doctor hesitated, then nodded, as if understanding. "You're very ticklish, aren't you, Captain," he said knowingly. "Were you tickled a lot as a child?"

The Captain sighed. "Phoebe was unmerciful," she revealed with great reluctance. "She always won all the physical confrontations because she would just tickle me and I'd be helpless to do anything even though I was much bigger than she was."

"You don't like feeling helpless, do you, Captain?" he asked sympathetically.

She eyed him suspiciously. "You've been incorporating psychiatric sub-routines in your programming again, haven't you?"

Caught, he assumed an injured air. "I am just attempting to make myself more useful to this ship," he said.

The Captain abruptly looked stricken. "You are a very important member of this crew, Doctor," she said in an oddly intent tone.

Seven was watching all this with confusion. There were so many subtle levels of communication going on here she couldn't even begin to figure them all out. Nor, if she were to be honest, did she want to. There was only one thing concerning her.

"May I leave now?" she asked.

"I want to take a bath," she announced.

Janeway smiled. "I think that can be arranged," she offered. She studied the younger woman closely. "Are you able to walk, Seven? Do you feel dizzy?"

"I am functioning acceptably," Seven said as she tottered toward the bathroom, a distinct tilt to her stride. "Will you take a bath with me?"

"That can be arranged, as well," Janeway said with a smile as she tracked her partner's progress with a mix of concern and amusement, ready to catch her at any sign of toppling.

Once in the bathroom, Janeway made sure Seven was leaning safely against the counter, then keyed the controls to fill the large tub which dominated the ensuite, adjusting the temperature and depth with careful judiciousness. She retrieved a bath oil that she knew was Seven's favorite and poured it into the water, the bubbles forming immediately to give off a fresh, woodsy fragrance. That done, she turned to look at her partner, startled as she saw Seven had removed her robe and was now gazing into the large mirror above the sink counter, studying her reflection with intent interest.

"Annika?" Janeway asked softly, coming up to stand at the young woman's shoulder, looking into the ice-blue eyes that were reflecting confusion. "Is anything wrong?"

"I am different," Seven said in an odd tone, flat, without inflection.

"You are wonderful," Janeway assured her warmly.

Gingerly Seven touched her abdomen, spreading her fingers apart as she lay her hand flat against the muscled stomach. "It feels strange," she said.

"How so?" the captain asked, watching her in the mirror.

"Empty," Seven whispered. She struggled to find the words. "I feel ... light. Not as solid as before."

"You have lost about ten kilos of implant," Janeway reminded her gently.

Seven turned, trying to keep her eyes on the mirror as she rotated, peeking at her back before facing the glass once more. "I resemble you now," she said.

"Does that bother you?" Janeway asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Seven said. "You are beautiful." Her gaze met Janeway's in the mirror. "Do you think I am beautiful?"

"Beyond words," Janeway said softly. "I have always thought so."

"Will you touch me?" Seven's voice was small, uncertain.

"Darling, that's something you never have to ask," Janeway told her with a loving smile. "It's something I always want to do."

Carefully, she put her hands on Seven's shoulder blades, and lightly slid her palms down the long, sinuous back, amazed at how silky it was, though in retrospect, she realized it was completely new, freshly regenerated. The skin on her hands was almost rough in comparison, the texture a marked contrast to Seven's new covering. Slowly, Janeway ran her fingers all over the new flesh, stoking the spine, seeking out and tracing the definition of newly formed muscles. She looked in the mirror, smiling as she saw that Seven was observing their reflection closely, watching as she was caressed by the captain, as if on a viewscreen.

Janeway gentled her touch, slowing it, becoming sensual as she felt Seven respond to her, arching into her fingers slightly. Kathryn ran her hands lightly over Seven's torso, sliding around to stroke her firm abdomen, circling the tiny indentation of her navel, then back to the sides, tracing the ribs. She could see the rosy nipples of Seven's full breasts swell and harden, and she had a strong desire to touch them which she immediately repressed. Slowly, she told herself, watching the reflection with a heavy-lidded gaze.

"This is ... intriguing," Seven whispered, fascinated by the view in the mirror before her, by the incredibly erotic spectacle of the captain in full uniform running her hands liberally over the Borg's nude body.

"It is," Kathryn said huskily, surprised at how much she agreed, at how aroused she was becoming, feeling the corresponding surge in her own body as her nipples hardened almost painfully against her sweater, the unmistakable flood of moisture between her legs.

She swallowed, focusing her efforts on Seven, stroking the narrow hips, then back up to the new flesh, fingers slipping easily along the satin skin. She could not get over how responsive it was, noting the goose bumps raised by her passage, thinking that the Doctor had done excellent work. Her fingertips traced over the two small implants remaining at the bottom of Seven's back, nestled into each of the dual dimples. One, Janeway knew, was tied into Seven's bladder while the other sent tendrils into the Borg's lower intestine, continuing to remove the toxins from her body, though for how much longer was a mystery. The Doctor intended to keep a close eye on their function, aware that the solid food Seven was now required to ingest was a far more difficult matter for the implants to process than energy taken directly from the ship would be.

Janeway leaned forward and kissed the top of Seven's spine, tracing the line of bumpy ridges of bone up the back of her neck, nibbling gently the entire way. She felt Seven take a deep breath, the young blond's arms braced as she leaned against the counter, her hands gripping the edge tightly.

"I never ... it did not occur to me that ... watching would be so ... stimulating," Seven murmured unsteadily.

"It engages one more sense," Kathryn said softly, as she traced every square millimeter of Seven's new form. She kissed the shoulder blade, flicking her tongue out to lick it, tasting the salt-sweet flavor of her lover, then spread her fingers over the abdomen, and pressed her body against Seven from behind. "Spread your legs," she requested quietly into the blond's ear.

Seven caught her breath, and obligingly slid her heels apart, bare feet slipping over the tile floor, granting her partner full access. The captain slid her fingertips along the inside of each thigh, teasing Seven with feather light strokes, tracing over the back of her legs, down to the soft skin at the back of her knees before retracing the same path with indulgent pleasure.

"Kathryn," Seven moaned, shivering as she tried to keep her eyes open, tried to keep them locked on the reflection in the mirror.

"My love," Kathryn whispered, trying to keep control over her own responses as she explored and caressed her partner. "Do you know how incredible you are?" she told her. "How very much you mean to me?"

She reached around and cupped Seven's breasts, raising them as if offering them to Seven's reflection, then slid her hands up to cover them, the voluptuous mounds spilling over her grasp, feeling the sharp points of flesh jab into her palms. She used her fingers to pull on the nipples gently, rolling and squeezing them while she watched in the mirror, mesmerized by the sight of her own hands fondling Seven.

Seven gasped as Janeway tenderly massaged her breasts, fingers white as she grasped the counter. An ominous creaking began beneath the mesh-covered left hand, a sound they both ignored, totally caught up in what they were doing, what they were feeling. Seven trembled as the captain brought one hand down from the young woman's chest, sliding down to the Borg's hip and over the firm buttocks, grasping one firmly, massaging it before sliding down the back of her right leg, then drifting inside to the baby-soft skin of her inner thigh.

Janeway caught her breath as she traced her fingers through the moisture gathering there, astounded by how wet Seven had become, at how far the woman's essence had spread down the inside of her thighs. She stroked gently in the searing heat of Seven's center, bumping over the hard little ridge of desire before slipping down to the opening. Easily, she slipped a finger into the taller woman, pressing deeply inside, twisting within her until she was able to add a second finger, and Seven cried out incoherently, leaning hard against the counter. Kathryn kept her eyes locked on the reflection, overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of her lover as she writhed and shuddered beneath her caresses. Seven's eyes were slitted, glittering a deep blue as she became completely lost in what she was experiencing, almost animalistic, a sound midway between a purr and a growl issuing from her full lips drawn back to expose the white flash of gritted teeth. She had never looked more wanton, more desirable.

Kathryn brought her other hand down Seven's front, stroking the soft swell of newly formed belly, scratching luxuriously in the tangle of fine blond hair before dipping down to rub over the hard little center slippery with creamy lubrication, swirling her fingertips over it with easy pressure, then firmer as her lover responded, pushing against her. Seven threw her head back, trembling, legs unsteady as she moaned Kathryn's name over and over again with joy and pleasure, eyes closing as she could no longer fight the sensations sweeping through her. Kathryn felt her fingers grasped in a restrictive velvet embrace, pulsations squeezing them in rhythmic fashion until finally, slowly, Seven surrendered, head falling forward to rest against the cool glass as a deep sob shook her helplessly. Shaken herself, Kathryn slowed her caresses, withdrawing gently to wrap her arms around Seven's waist, holding her lovingly as she rested her cheek against the smooth back.

"Annika," she said comfortingly. "It's all right. I'm right here, love."

Dazedly, she realized she was still completely in uniform, still fully dressed and that behind them, the tub had finished filling, the water still maintaining its temperature by the internal heaters, steam rising slightly, though the bubbles had long since dissipated. She shuddered, closing her eyes as she hugged Seven closely.

"I was afraid that I would not ... feel your touch anymore," Seven whispered, and Janeway could hear the tears in her voice. Looking up, she could see them sliding down the blond's cheeks. "But I can. I feel so much now."

"I'm glad, my love," the captain said softly, hugging her tightly. "I'm so glad."

Seven took a breath, bringing her hands off the counter to put them over Janeway's which were linked at the younger woman's navel. "I am glad as well," she said, opening her eyes to meet Kathryn's concerned gaze in the mirror. "I want to always feel this way."

Janeway glanced at the deep indentations Seven's left hand had made in the duranium counter top and thought privately that might not be such a good idea. If Seven had felt any more, they might not have a ship left.

Seven tilted her head slightly as she regarded Janeway's reflection. "You still have your clothes on," she noted with unfailing accuracy.

Janeway smiled, relieved as Seven seemed more herself. "I suppose you would like me to take them off?" she asked dryly.

"Unless you can take a bath like that?" Seven turned to her, sliding her arms around her and pulling her close, uniform and all.

Janeway snuggled deep in the embrace, feeling flushed and sticky beneath her outfit. "I already have," she said, feeling the moisture between her legs. "You make me so wet, my love."

"I can make you wetter," Seven offered.

"Oh, I don't think you can," Janeway responded playfully, looking up at her.

The next thing Janeway knew, she was being picked up in strong arms and deposited into the tub, uniform and all. Where she was unquestionably a great deal wetter.

The resulting heave catapulted Janeway off the bed and onto the floor with an audible thud, the captain landing on her knees and elbows with an outraged grunt of surprise and dismay. Seven drew in long gulps of cool air with gratitude, only marginally aware of her flustered partner calling for lights and dragging herself up the side of the bed, looking at her in astounded aggravation.

"What the hell was that?" Janeway yelped, hair mussed, eyes still wide, the whites showing around the blue-grey irises, still shaken at having been awakened in the midst of the mid-air parabola a mere instant before colliding with the deck.

"I could not breathe," Seven explained. "You were lying on top of me."

Janeway took an exasperated breath and pulled herself up the rest of the way onto the bed. "Why didn't you just roll me off?" she asked waspishly, sitting up as she anxiously examined her newly forming bruises. "Or better yet, just nudge me awake, and I would have moved."

Seven felt embarrassed. "I did," she said in a shamed voice. "I did not realize I was still so strong."

Janeway considered that and gradually softened her expression, looking at Seven tolerantly. "I suppose you're right, Annika," she relented. "I should have remembered you're not wearing armor plating anymore." Gingerly she slid back under the covers, snuggling up against her lover once more.

Seven felt the captain's body press against her side and carefully, she put her arm around the captain's back, feeling Kathryn's head rest on her shoulder. This was acceptable, she considered. The arm resting on her chest was a great deal lighter than Kathryn's entire body. The captain brought down the lights again so that they were lying in a comfortable, dim illumination.

"I am sorry I threw you out of bed," Seven said with honest contriteness.

Janeway made an odd sound, a strangled sort of laugh. "I've heard of it," she said. "I never thought I would actually see it happen, especially to me."

Seven didn't know what that meant exactly, but she was glad that Kathryn was laughing rather than being angered. She doubted she would have been as understanding were positions reversed, though it was highly unlikely Janeway could throw her anywhere near as high, or as far.

"Are you hurt?" Seven asked.

"No," Janeway yawned. "Though I am not recommending it as a good way to wake up." She was silent for a few moments, then shifted. "Darling, if I go to sleep like this I'll be right back on top of you before morning." She rolled over and snuggled back against Seven who obligingly wrapped herself around her. "Hmm, that's much better."

Seven thought so too, surprised and pleased at the sensation of Kathryn's back against her stomach, at the way the soft swell of buttocks fit so perfectly into her groin. While the implant had made it possible to bear the captain's weight, it had also prevented her from getting so close. Seven decided that this was a definite improvement. Certainly, the hour Janeway had spent massaging Seven's newly formed back with a light oil prior to their falling asleep, had made it clear that there were other advantages to no longer having a metal corset between her and her lover.

Intrigued, Seven pressed tighter against Kathryn, putting her hand on the captain's stomach and pulling her back even closer to her. Janeway sighed and reached back a hand, patting Seven on the hip drowsily. Seven brushed away the fine auburn hair, exposing Kathryn's ear, which she proceeded to nuzzle, tracing it with the tip of her tongue.

"Mmmm, you got some nerve, wench" Janeway murmured in the dark. "First, you throw me out of bed, then you try to get amorous."

"What is a 'wench'?" Seven asked softly, bending her head to kiss the top of Kathryn's shoulder, nibbling along the soft skin.

Kathryn chuckled. "Too long to explain," she said.

"Do you wish me to stop?"

"I didn't say that," Kathryn said in a low voice, and Seven could hear the smile in it.

"I'm glad," Seven responded in a low voice. "Because I do not want to stop. I want to make love to you."

She stroked the captain's upper chest lightly, feeling her heartbeat under her fingertips, then lazily ran her palm over the small breasts, back and forth, feeling the nipples harden sweetly beneath her caress. She loved Kathryn's body, how responsive it was to her. Especially this area, so sensitive, pleasing her lover so much when she caressed here.

Kathryn moaned and put her head back, exposing her throat and neck, and Seven kissed along the smooth line of it, up to where the jawline began, to the soft skin just under the earlobe. Gently, she slid her hand down over the soft swell of the captain's abdomen, taking time to notice how differently structured it was for all its similarities, rounder, less muscled than her own. She slid her finger into the indentation at the navel, wiggled it a bit even as Kathryn squirmed in protest. Now that Seven realized that exploring it did not cause her lover pain, she wanted to know exactly what response touching it did cause.

"Seven, do you want to end up sleeping on the couch?" Janeway warned in a low voice.

Seven promptly removed her finger from Kathryn's belly button, and ran her hand over the sharp bone of the captain's hip, down the leg and back up over the tummy to resume her caresses of the little breasts, firmer now in her intent, swirling her fingertip around the areola, feeling it pebble beneath her touch. She caught the nipple between forefinger and thumb, rolling it gently, then went over to the other breast and repeated the caress.

Kathryn sighed and pressed back against her, reaching up to entwine her fingers in Seven's left hand which was resting on the pillow, the blond's arm lying under the captain's neck against the bed. Seven was careful to tighten her grip only a little, aware that the mesh could easily damage the more fragile flesh of Kathryn's hand which lay in her grasp like the most delicate of treasures. She was always moved by the fact that the captain did not avoid her implants while making love. It indicated a complete trust that Seven would not hurt her, despite past instances when she inadvertently had, and it filled the Borg with a profound tenderness.

"Mmm, I love this," Kathryn whispered, pressing sinuously back against her as Seven continued to pay loving attention to her breasts. "I love how you touch me."

"I love touching you," Seven responded quietly in her ear, kissing it gently, teasing it with her tongue. "It is my greatest joy."

Finally, after long moments, she left the breasts to slip her hand down over the abdomen again and tangled her fingers in the fine, auburn hair at the juncture of Kathryn's legs. Seven could not quite access below that, only able to slide the very tip of one finger into the wetness at the top of the crease. She judged this to be inefficient, and with a sudden motion, she rolled onto her back, carrying Kathryn with her.

"Oh goodness," Kathryn said, startled as her legs were parted abruptly by Seven's, opening her up to her partner's exploring fingers. "What about your breathing?"

"I am breathing fine," Seven replied, not particularly caring as she fondled Kathryn with gentle fingertips. She released the captain's hand, hugging the compact form to her, and carefully used her left implant to stroke Kathryn's nipples, the cool metal a contrast to the velvet heat of tender flesh.

"Whatever works, my love," Kathryn said huskily. She groaned as Seven found the moist ridge of need, fingers rubbing over it with gentle but insistent pressure. "Oh yes, darling. This feels so good."

Seven increased the intensity of her caress, sliding up and down, using more of her hand against the moist flesh, bathing in the heat and wetness. She felt her breathing quicken in tandem with Kathryn's, feeling her own need increase in response to that of her lover. Then, without thinking, she reached further down between Kathryn's legs and touched herself, jerking in surprise at the sensation that shot through her. Intrigued, she began to alternate, touching herself and Kathryn with long, slow strokes, taking Kathryn's wetness to herself, bringing her own up to mingle with that of her lover.

"Oh god, Annika," Kathryn said, understanding what was happening and judging from her voice, even further aroused by it. "That feels so good. Don't stop."

"I will not," Seven assured her, amazed and confused by what was happening but very willing to find out where it would go. She balled her left hand into a fist, keeping her arm across the captain's chest but leaving the implant well away from Janeway's body.

"Oh dear god," Kathryn moaned. "Oh Annika, this is so good."

The captain reached down with her own hands, sharing Seven's caresses, panting as their hips moved together against their fingers, both losing track of who was touching whom, of which hand was causing the sensation, feeling as one body, one form responding to one caress.

Seven had moved beyond thought, beyond coherence, only feeling the incredible sensations that were going through her, amazed and aroused even more as she realized Kathryn was experiencing exactly the same thing at the same time. She gasped, moaning and sighing in her passion, hearing the sounds echoed by Kathryn as they moved together, undulating and shuddering. Then, suddenly, they were there at the same time, somehow never ceasing their caresses as they drove through the climax as one being, crying out loudly, voices mingling in a harmony of pleasure and joy as they arched and finally collapsed.

For long moments, they lay there in the dark shadows, both trying to catch their breath.

"Oh my god," Kathryn said. Whether a prayer or just a comment, Seven was unsure.

"I cannot breathe," Seven noted weakly. With the last of her strength, she rolled them back over to their sides, gasping as she lay beside her lover, incapable of moving any further.

Finally Kathryn bent down and kissed the arm draped over her chest. "That," she said with firm assurance. "Was incredible."

"It was..." Seven searched for the proper word. "Different." Inadequate but for some reason she was finding it hard to think clearly.

Kathryn laughed softly. "Oh, yes," she said. She stroked Seven's bicep gently, tracing the implant there. "We've never made love like that. Not at the same time."

"It would have been ... unwise," Seven noted. "I might have hurt you."

"But you didn't," Kathryn pointed out.

"No," Seven said, pleased. "I did not."

"Annika?"

"Yes?"

"I'm very glad you woke me up."

Seven made an abrupt sound and understood that it was a snicker, surprising both herself and Kathryn somewhat. Perhaps she was getting a grasp on this humor concept after all.

"I am very glad I woke you up, as well," she said huskily, hugging her tightly. "However, I will try not to throw you across the room anymore."

"Well, that part I can do without," Kathryn admitted. She made a happy little murmur in her throat. "But the rest ... that was simply wonderful."

"Yes," Seven agreed. She tightened her embrace as Kathryn snuggled back against her once more. "Kathryn," she whispered. "I love you."

Kathryn purred. "I love you too, Annika," she told her sleepily. "Forever."

Seven kissed her shoulder. "Do you want to make love again?"

Kathryn laughed. "Darling, I have duty in..." she paused, raising her head slightly as she checked the time on the chronometer across the room. "Oh heavens, three hours. I'm going to unload a bomb in the staff meeting, so I really do need some sleep."

"All right," Seven said, somewhat relieved. She was tired as well but she thought it only polite to offer. Usually, she never felt tired like this. She must still be feeling the effects of her surgical procedure, she thought. "What 'bomb'?"

"Uh un," Janeway warned drowsily. "That's a captain thing. You'll have to wait too."

"Oh," Seven said. "All right. Good night, Kathryn."

"Good night, my love," Kathryn murmured, and fell asleep in Seven's arms.

Neelix was in the middle of giving his mess hall status report, affording Janeway the opportunity to look around, knowing her padd would record every word he said. She noticed that Chakotay and B'Elanna were now making a point of sitting together, very often getting lost in their own murmured conversations as Neelix droned on and on. She favored them with a stern glance, before feeling other eyes upon her.

She looked up to see Seven regarding her intently from the far end of the table, her eyepiece raised delicately. Amusement colored her expression, and Janeway frowned faintly, warning her partner that she hadn't won this particular battle, not quite yet. The captain shifted her gaze to Tom Paris who was staring at the two ex-Maquis, frowning as if just now realizing that it wasn't merely a matter of getting back into B'Elanna's good graces. He now had the first officer to contend with.

Janeway stifled a sigh. That could mean trouble. Chakotay and Tom had not started off well on Voyager, and it had taken some time before the two men had arrived at a sort of truce. This could cause the antagonism they had buried to flare up again. Seated beside Tom, the Doctor was leaning back in his chair, obviously not listening to a word Neelix was saying, arms crossed, eyes distant as he thought holographic thoughts.

She wondered what he did think about. Did he dream? Did he wonder where his existence was going? Did he think he was real? In any event, as soon as Neelix completed his report, she'd find out. That was when she was going to lay the Kes situation onto the table. She had no doubt that he would have a great deal to say about the issue.

Neelix finally finished his report, and sat down next to Tuvok who had been listening impassively. She knew the Vulcan had an idea about what she was going to say. If nothing else, their long time friendship afforded him the ability to know that she had something in mind just from her body language, which was a little more formal than usual. He would pick up on that.

"Thank you, Neelix," she said graciously. She folded her hands before her on the table, leaning forward as she regarded all of them intently. "Before we conclude today's session, something else has been brought to my attention. It is an issue that I will require all of your input on before I make a final decision."

She had their complete and undivided attention, all of them staring at her with interest.

"The Kes program, while fulfilling its initial purpose, raises serious concerns about the ethical responsibilities we have about creating holograms in the form of missing friends and family. It also raises the question whether such a hologram may follow the Doctor's path to sentience, and if so, what right do we have to create such beings for the sole purpose of them serving us? Are we creating slaves or indentured servants? Would it be in the best interests of this ship, and the Kes hologram itself, to delete its matrix?"

She took a quiet breath. With the exception of Tuvok, she knew she had absolutely confounded them. Like her, judging by their various expressions, none of them had given much thought to this issue before, and now that she had slapped it on the table in front of them, they looked at it as if it were an unexploded photon torpedo; one that could go off with merely an incautious breath.

B'Elanna was the first to speak, prefacing it with an unamused laugh. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I spent a hell of a lot of time and effort working on that matrix," she said. "Now you just want to ... delete it?"

Her words seem to open the floodgate.

"It is just a hologram," Harry pointed out, looking at this as purely a technical problem, perhaps because he had helped build the matrix. "It was created for a purpose, and now that purpose had been served. Maybe we should delete it ... or at least, deactivate it when we're not using it. It does take up a significant amount of ship's resources."

"I need Kes," the Doctor objected frostily. "I have no one else capable of providing the assistance she does. You can't deactivate her."

"I know my opinion might not be as important here, Captain," Neelix offered. "However, it's always sort of bothered me that Kes's form was the one being used for this ... 'assistant'. I think an assistant for the Doctor is a good idea, but why does it have to be Kes?"

B'Elanna raised an eyebrow. "If we can build a duplicate mobile emitter, just like the Doctor's, she'll be able to leave sickbay,  move around the ship ... even go planetside if she has to," she said, countering Harry. "It would also cut back on the power she uses."

"That may be what contributes to it becoming sentient," Tuvok noted coolly. "Expanding the program, allowing it more access to information, exposing it to outside extraneous data, may allow it to cross the line into sentience just as the Doctor has. By what right are we creating these beings to serve us? By doing so for some, and not all, are we denying the rest the knowledge and data to allow them to become sentient? How can we treat some holograms as living creatures, and use others as a form of entertainment? Are you prepared to stop using the holodeck?"

"Is the Doctor sentient?" Chakotay asked suddenly.

"I beg your pardon?" The Doctor looked coldly at the first officer.

"Are you?" Chakotay insisted. "Or do you just think you are within the parameters of your programming? Do you have a soul, Doctor? How does one measure that?"

The Doctor rose up in his seat, obviously outraged, and Janeway raised her hand, stilling his motion. Frowning, he settled back into his chair. "Chakotay is just asking the questions that must be asked," she said, supporting her first officer. "This is an issue we must address. Certainly, it's one we haven't dealt with in a concrete fashion before."

"I think Tuvok could be right," B'Elanna said. "The Doctor's program expanded considerably when he started using the mobile emitter. Until then, he was completely dependent on Voyager, and its database, in order to function. He was purely a technical being, existing at the whim of the ship's power resources, just as Kes is, right now. Without it, she may never transcend her programming."

"That's possible," Chakotay agreed. "If a better existence is not shown to the Kes program, then she may be quite content to remain nothing more than a hologram functioning periodically in sickbay."

"But is it right?" Tom objected suddenly, looking directly at the captain, and avoiding the eyes of the Klingon across the table. "We're not just talking about a character in a holonovel anymore. The Kes program will be functioning as an active member of the crew. What happens if we keep this program running, and she starts to realize limitations like being stuck in sickbay forever. To see something that others have and know she can't? To always being on the outside looking in? How can we deny her the right to a better existence once we know it's possible?"

"You're talking about the quality of life, now," Chakotay said. "Not life itself. We still haven't established that holograms have a life."

"I assure you Commander, I am very much alive," the Doctor put in, his tone aggravated.

Tom leaned forward. "I accept that I am alive, that I have an essence that gives me life, that something ethereal makes me who I am," he said. "However, that was something I was taught, based on self-serving evidence. It becomes a matter of faith. If the Doctor also believes that he's alive because of the same type of faith, how is it any different?"

"Are we saying that Kes isn't considered sentient now, but that she might be down the line?" B'Elanna asked, trying to simplify things. "Are we establishing that?"

"Not necessarily," Harry objected, purely as a point of debate. "She knows she's a hologram, she knows she has been created to be the Doctor's assistant. Does that not already make her self-aware? Don't forget, like the Doctor who was based on the algorithms of a Human named Dr. Zimmerman, the assistant was also based on a living personality profile. Everything we knew about Kes, all her logs, including the personal ones, even her transporter pattern, has gone into her matrix. Maybe any hologram that is created that way, that is created to know exactly what it truly is in relation to the greater universe around it, is being created as sentient. She does more than merely process data. She's designed to act upon that data, to learn from it. She's been learning since the second we activated her."

"That data is accessed directly from the ship, as is her matrix," B'Elanna objected. "I'm not hearing anyone say Voyager is alive. The Doctor's program became independent when he got the portable emitter, because he became independent of the ship, no longer part of its systems. He can be completely cut off from the ship's data banks and still be able to operate, to think, to learn and to make conclusions based on just the data he processes from the world around him. It hasn't been proved that the Kes program can do that." She frowned. "I wish I knew what the status of holograms are in the 29^th century. That would give us a clue as to whether the portable emitter we got was designed to grant sentience to them."

Janeway nodded then. "That's a good point, Lieutenant," she said. "Perhaps by allowing ourselves to access technology from the future, we unwittingly committed a grave ethical breach as well as a temporal one. Perhaps we are dealing with something we're just not ready for yet. Something that not even the Doctor, or any hologram is ready for yet."

"No one's getting my emitter!" the Doctor said with alarm and Janeway was forced to favor him with a calming glance.

"No one's going to take your emitter," she soothed. "We are just accepting the fact that we are presently dealing with the consequences of past actions from accepting a future technology." She thought about her last statement and felt the first throbbing of a headache at her temples. She hated temporal anomalies and did her absolute best to avoid them whenever possible. So why did she have to keep dealing with them?

"Shall we accept that the Doctor is sentient?" Tuvok said then, trying to keep the discussion from being bogged down entirely.

There was a silence and with a sinking feeling, Janeway realized that not even this particular point was agreed upon by every one in this room. How did the greater part of the ship feel, and by extension, how would the rest of Starfleet feel? And the Federation? She took a breath, pausing a moment to gather her thoughts.

"When you were first activated, Doctor, your first concern was over how to control the activation sequence of your program. Crewmembers were either turning you off against your wishes, or leaving you active with no way to shut yourself down. I admit, I was one of the worst offenders in ending your program whenever you annoyed or irritated me. It was Kes that showed me that I was perhaps out of line, but by giving you that measure of control over your own destiny, perhaps that is what started this whole thing. There have been several occasions where you have been forced into situations that no holo-programmer could have foreseen, usually at my command, and for better or worse, all those incidents were markers on the path that has led you to where you are today. I can't go back and change any of my decisions, nor would I want to. I have no regrets or qualms about how you've developed. I feel you are a person, Doctor, a valuable crewmember, and a good friend."

"I am prepared to grant the Doctor sentience on my authority as ship's captain," she added somberly, swallowing a sardonic grin as they all looked at her, startled.

Just add it to all the rest of the monumental decisions I've had to make over the past four years, she mused. She wondered briefly just how extensive her court martial would be when she finally returned to face the music in the Alpha Quadrant. At this point, she believed she would be long dead before the charges were completely figured out, and she would actually have to face any Board of Inquiry.

"He thinks, he reasons, he deducts, he is independent of the ship," she said gravely. "He learns from his actions and I truly believe, he feels not only for his patients, but for himself. Whether it be the result of his emitter granting him independence, or some unknown, mystical reason we will never be permitted to discover, he is a living being, a sentient soul. From this moment on, it will be officially logged as such, and he shall receive all the rights and privileges of any crewmember. The question is, do we allow another hologram to follow that path? Do we have the right to make that decision for her now that she has been activated?"

She took a breath and looked up. The Doctor seemed astounded, yet tremendously gratified as if he had just been granted a miracle. For all she knew, he had. I am God, she thought with a certain amount of dismay. Too bad Starfleet didn't mention that when they awarded me the extra pip.

Chakotay looked troubled but seemed willing to hold his tongue. So did Tom to a lesser extent. Well, at least that was one thing they have in common, she thought with gallows humor.

Neelix looked a little confused as if unsure what all this meant exactly, while Harry was nodding slightly, as if he approved completely. Tuvok was, of course, impassive while Seven mimicked his demeanor which was something she did when she didn't quite understand everything that was going on, but knew it was exceptionally important. Janeway wished she could speak with her, get her thoughts but Seven had acquired a habit of not speaking much in staff meetings. She preferred to observe and talk over her impressions with the captain later, not wanting to contradict Janeway in public anymore.

Janeway became suddenly aware of B'Elanna looking at her skeptically, an eyebrow raised. "You realize, of course," the chief engineer said. "This means if I inadvertently delete his matrix during his next diagnostic, you'll have to try me for murder. Or at the very least, manslaughter."

"Think of it as just a little added incentive," the Doctor said with smug satisfaction. "To do your job correctly."

The Klingon woman favored him with a poisonous look, and Janeway wondered if she had just opened yet another can of worms. She sighed internally and refocused her attention.

"Which brings us back to the point of all this," she said. "The Kes program. Do we allow it to remain functioning, do we limit its function, or do we delete it altogether?"

"What if we just alter its appearance and personality," Neelix insisted. "So that it doesn't look and act like Kes."

"That requires creating an entirely new hologram," B'Elanna said. "What would be the point? Same problem, only with a different ... what, entity? Being? The fact that she looks, talks and acts like Kes is sort of irrelevant."

"Not to me," Neelix said, frowning.

"Or me," the Doctor said stubbornly. "I wanted my assistant to be Kes. I want her to stay."

Seven suddenly regarded him sharply, eyes narrowing and Janeway got yet another flash of insight which made her heart hammer in her chest. Ohmigod, the captain thought. Was the Doctor in love with Kes? Is that part of the reason he recreated her? What the hell does that mean when I make this decision?

"The fact remains that we are setting a hologram on the path of sentience," Tuvok said. "If it hasn't already achieved it by the programming which allows it to exist. What right do we have to do this? Are we creating a race of servants? This goes against every ideal that Vulcan and the Federation believe in."

"If we have," Tom countered. "What right do we have not to give holograms the shot at being sentient, even if they are being created to serve us. If they grow beyond it, then maybe that is part of their evolution. Maybe that is what will determine their true destiny."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "An interesting perspective," he noted. "Perhaps to recognize freedom, one must realize oppression. I had not considered that. However, I do note that I have a personal objection to being one of those oppressors."

"Do you feel oppressed, Doctor?" Harry asked the EMH.

The Doctor considered it. "Repressed, depressed, and occasionally, sorely pressed," he said. "But no, not oppressed."

"If one serves another freely, then it's not servitude," Tom noted. "But partnership."

Janeway held up her hand. "This discussion could take days," she said gently. "And perhaps it should. It is not a decision to be taken lightly, or made in haste. I will consider all your viewpoints."

"Ask her."

Everyone looked at Seven who regarded them all dispassionately, except for Janeway. When she looked at the captain, her ice-blue eyes were warm, and supportive.

"It is the Kes-program who's fate is being decided," she elaborated. "Perhaps you require her viewpoint as well."

Janeway nodded. "You're right, Seven," she said. "That's exactly what I should do." She favored the rest with a command look, signifying that the meeting was over.

"Dismissed."

Seven watched as Torres left main engineering and headed for an auxiliary area. She was unaccompanied, and Seven judged this to be perfect for her plans. Stealthily, the Borg stalked her through the humming aisles of computer banks until she was sure the Klingon was alone. Dressed in her black workout outfit she customarily wore for her Velocity matches with Kathryn, Seven was able to move silently on the thick-soled shoes, coming up to within arm's length of B'Elanna before some sixth sense warned the Klingon of her presence.

The engineer whirled, eyes widening, but it was too late. With a solid left, Seven dropped B'Elanna to the deck, looking down on the prone Klingon with triumph.

"Seven, what the hell are you doing?" B'Elanna yelped, holding her ridged forehead where Seven had punched her.

"I did tell you I would strike you once I had left sickbay," Seven said calmly, shaking her hand slightly. B'Elanna's head had been much harder than she had anticipated. "Apparently, you did not 'see me coming