"What's the worst thing that could happen?"

Dr. Pulaski crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her, and the captain resisted the urge to smile. The medical officer was a slight woman, though tall, with snowy hair and an imposing attitude. Pulaski had known Kathryn Janeway for a long time, and it accorded her a certain informality with the captain that perhaps other officers wouldn't have ... or try to exploit.

"Do you want a list?" Obviously, the doctor was more than a little exasperated with the captain's stubbornness.

"So I become a little nauseous," Janeway said, leaning over the coffee table as she poured herself a mug of coffee from a silver thermos. She lifted an eyebrow at her chief medical officer, an unspoken offer of refreshment to which Pulaski shook her head. "Where's the harm?"

"Plenty if you're not sedated for the jump," the doctor stated with authority.

Janeway tried not to sigh. The Millennium's experimental propulsion system had been designed by Dr. Leah Brahms, and built by the Theoretical Propulsion Group at Utopia Planitia, utilizing a combination of Borg transwarp technology, old Federation theories, and some of the same slipstream conduit technology that had brought Janeway's previous vessel, the USS Voyager, back to the Federation after being lost in the Delta Quadrant for seven years. It was capable of propelling a starship extravagant distances in a matter of minutes via a subspace conduit, entering and exiting at a prearranged set of coordinates, and granting the vessel the opportunity to explore unknown space that would otherwise take decades to reach at traditional warp. However, there was a tiny glitch when it came to using it ... at least for Humans of Terran extraction. It was the first time Janeway ever had cause to be annoyed at being from Earth.

"Furthermore, it's more than 'a little nauseous'," Pulaski continued. "According to all the reports I've read, your brain chemistry will be altered, leaving you with a blinding headache, disorientation, then finally, a debilitating nausea before lapsing into unconsciousness."

"I've suffered worse," Janeway said breezily as she faced the doctor, sipping her coffee. "You should have been there the morning of my wedding."

"No, Kathryn," Pulaski said flatly, refusing to be amused. "You haven't experienced anything like this."

Janeway paused for a second, detecting the edge in the other woman's voice. "Doctor, if I can't be alert and active when my starship attempts this maneuver, how can the crew respect me?"

"How much will they respect you when you toss your cookies on the bridge?" Pulaski countered immediately. "When you start to choke on it, when you start to lose control of the rest of your bodily functions..."

"All right," Janeway said, holding up her hand to forestall the gory details. "I hadn't realized it was that extreme."

"Of course you did," Pulaski said, tilting her head as she regarded her with pale blue eyes. "You read the same reports I did. You just refuse to believe it will be as bad for you, but Kathryn, every Human of Terran extraction on board this vessel must be medicated and sedated before we jump. I know you're the captain, but do try to maintain some touch with reality. Even you can't control everything."

That one stung, and Janeway straightened her shoulders beneath the greyish padding of her uniform. From anyone else, she simply wouldn't have taken it, but this woman had been one of her professors at the Academy, and had recently been dragged out of semi-retirement at the captain's request, accepting, for all intents and purposes, a demotion to do so. Still, as commander of the vessel, Janeway knew such an attitude could not be tolerated beyond a certain point. She just wasn't sure they had reached it yet, nor what exactly she was prepared to do when they did.

"Doctor, is it possible to treat the symptoms without rendering me unconscious?"

"Don't you think I would have offered that option if it were available?" Pulaski asked reasonably.

Janeway eyed her. "Not if it gave you the opportunity to put me in my place."

Pulaski started to respond to that, hesitated, and then frowned as she regarded the captain. "No," she said finally, as if sensing that she had wandered dangerously close to a line she wasn't quite ready to cross ... yet. "There isn't. In order to survive the effect the transition has on Human brain chemistry with the least amount of damaging consequences, complete sedation is necessary."

"Why isn't Seven affected?" Janeway asked. "She's Human. Her parents were Terran."

"Yes, but she was born on a frontier colony and raised on a starship, which altered her brain chemistry enough so that she's not affected. We're as much products of the environment we spend our childhood in as we are of our genetics, Kathryn," the doctor said. "Even if that weren't the case, however, Seven's nanoprobes create a buffer that counteracts the effects of the jump." She lifted a brow. "I read your medical record. You had the nanoprobes once. I imagine if you ask her nicely, Seven would assimilate you again."

"You're not funny," Janeway remarked.

"I'm not trying to be."

There was a chime at the door, and both women looked toward the lower level; Pulaski with obvious irritation at the interruption, Janeway with a bit of relief. "Come," she instructed.

The door slid open and Millennium's first officer entered the captain's ready room. Tall, broad shouldered, with predominantly Cardassian features, Zar Tulek hesitated briefly when he saw the captain wasn't alone.

"What is it?" Janeway prompted.

"We just received a communication from the USS Sullivan," he explained, moving up the ramp to the upper level where the women were, presenting a padd to the captain. "Apparently they have an officer who wants to transfer to the Millennium, and they're willing to rendezvous with us long enough to do a transport before we reach the transition coordinates ... if you're agreeable, of course."

Janeway glanced at the tiny viewscreen, a wide smile spreading across her face as she read the name of the officer who wished to transfer to her command. She knew of at least one person on board who would simply be thrilled at the last minute addition.

"Do it," she said. "This is a proven officer whose abilities should come in handy in the upcoming mission."

He dipped his head in acknowledgment, shot a curious look at the doctor, then left, returning to the bridge where he was holding the conn. Janeway glanced after him before focusing her attention on Pulaski, who was watching her narrowly.

"So, has the Doctor chosen a name?" she asked, referring to the EMH who was serving as the third medical officer in sickbay.

"Don't try to change the subject," Pulaski growled, refusing to be diverted. "Kathryn, I need to know that you're going to be sedated before we make that jump, even if I have to personally be the one to administer it."

"I'll make the decision when it's time," Janeway said, putting her hand on the doctor's elbow and urging her toward the door.

"We'll be at the coordinates in four hours," Pulaski said. "It makes no sense to delay, particularly since sickbay is already busy preparing the others in the crew who require this medication." She paused. "Do I have to use my CMO authority here, Kathryn? It's a little early in the game for me to have to resort to that."

"Fine," Janeway said, annoyed. "Prepare a hypospray and have it sent to the bridge. I'll remain in my ready room and administer it before the jump ... or have one of the bridge officers do it. Will that satisfy you?"

Pulaski stopped, staring at her. "This isn't about command authority, Kathryn. I'm not kidding here. If you attempt to go through the jump without medication, and without being monitored, you could find yourself in a lot of trouble."

"Prepare the hypospray," Janeway repeated, her gaze steady.

Pulaski stared at her, her lips a tight line before she turned and left the ready room. Shaking her head, Janeway returned to her desk, tucked away in the small nook created by the circular ramps leading to the upper level. She was sure the doctor was overreacting, exaggerating the effects of the jump, particularly since a great many of the crew, whom she considered to be perfectly Human, would not require the medication. She found it extremely difficult to believe that simply being born and growing up on Earth was the catalyst to provide such a result when combined with a transition jump. It was ridiculous.

When the hypospray arrived, she would quietly tuck the medication away for the next time, if she deemed it necessary, but this time, she would go through the transition unaided. As captain, she couldn't allow her vessel to be deprived of its commanding officer simply because of some opinion sent down by some medical officer in Starfleet Administration who had never experienced deep space travel before. They always overcompensated when dealing with experimental technology. Janeway had a strong stomach, an iron constitution and a will that could bend duranium if required. She could handle it.

Her decision made, she began to go through some last minute preparations. In addition to sedating the percentage of the crew who happened to be of Terran extraction, it was important that the various departments be locked down for this trip that would carry them seventy thousand light years from their launch point. The drive was predicated upon having a precise set of coordinates at each end of the subspace corridor, and while the ship was within the transition stage itself, they would be unable to detect normal space around them, or rather, by the time the sensors detected it, they were already long past it. To activate the drive, the vessel had to reach warp 9.5 in an empty stretch of space prior to entering the corridor. Upon leaving the corridor, the engines needed a certain amount of time and distance to power down to prevent shaking the ship apart.

It seemed a great deal more complicated to operate than the slipstream drive had been, she decided, but on the other hand, the slipstream drive had not been very accurate, diverting them further away from their target coordinates the longer they were within the corridor. Such a hit-or-miss proposition was not the case with the transition drive, nor did it possess the other disadvantage of the slipstream drive, which was the unfortunate tendency to burn out the transwarp coils after only two or three activations, leaving the ship incapable of warp propulsion at all. The transition drive, although requiring a certain amount of preparation each time it was used, did not damage the coils at all, and could be activated as long as there was enough warp power to open a corridor. Not to mention the fact that it only took about thirty minutes to travel across the vast distances, while the slipstream drive had taken hours.

Ultimately, however, neither was useful for space exploration in itself. One could not really make scientific discoveries on the fly, and the sensors had only been advanced to the point where the crew would be alerted if there was something large waiting for them within the corridor itself. Not that they could do anything about it in that case, of course, other than have a few brief seconds to make their peace with their respective deities. Even if the sensors were somehow made sensitive enough to detect an obstacle sooner, the starship's course still could not be altered as it traveled from point A to point B ... not without severe damage to the structural integrity field, assuming they held together at all.

For everything, there was a tradeoff, Janeway thought. Though Millennium could leap unimaginable distances across space, it was only safe to do so because the computer had the precise coordinates already recorded by Voyager years earlier when it had been dragged into the Delta Quadrant by an entity known as the Caretaker. Any exploration from that point would have to be done the old fashioned way, and while Millennium would be able to record further safe coordinates as they explored using traditional warp, they wouldn't be able to make a jump to where they hadn't already been ... or rather, they couldn't do it with absolute certainty about what they would find. Without knowing what existed at a specific set of coordinates, the ship could emerge from transition into anything from a star going nova to the middle of a starship race.

As it were, they were still taking a risk with the upcoming transition jump. The farthest coordinates the Federation possessed was the star system containing the Caretaker's array. If that area of space now possessed a great deal of starship traffic, or something such as an asteroid happened to be passing by at those exact coordinates, Millennium wouldn't know it until it had exited at warp 9.5 ... and plowed through it, undoubtedly destroying themselves and whatever had been in their way. The vastness of space lowered the odds of such a thing happening, of course, but there was a certain gamble when trying something experimental. That appealed to Janeway as far as her more reckless side was concerned, but the responsible part of her found it a little nerve-racking.

Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea to be rendered unconscious during the jump after all, she thought. That way, she'd never know if it all went wrong.

Seven glanced up from her console in the lab on deck fifteen, tilting her head curiously as she heard the hail over her comm badge. She wasn't sure she liked being addressed by her Human designation, particularly in her spouse's voice, but she couldn't deny she was becoming more used to it the longer she wore the uniform of Starfleet.

"Seven here," she replied calmly. "Go ahead, Captain."

"Seven," Janeway explained, "we've just rendezvoused with the USS Sullivan in order to bring on board a last minute transfer of personnel. I need you to meet the officer in transporter room one."

Seven blinked, having no idea why she would be dispatched for such a task. It seemed outside the purview of her duties.

"Captain?" she responded uncertainly.

"Sorry, Seven, I can't spare anyone else at the moment," Janeway said. "This requires a senior officer."

"Yes, Captain," Seven said, deciding that made sense, knowing how busy it would be on the bridge.

Nodding at another scientist who was working at a console not far from her, she indicated that he was to join her. After checking with him to be sure he knew how to finish the task of securing the lab in preparation for the upcoming transition jump, she headed for the nearest turbolift, instructing it to take her to deck ten where the main transporter room was located. The transporter operator was apparently waiting for her arrival, glancing at her expectantly as she took up a position by the console.

Seven dipped her head, indicating she was ready, and then glanced at the dais, linking her hands behind her back as she waited patiently. The operator activated the controls, a mild hum rising as sparkles appeared over three of the circles on the transporter pad. Seven was surprised, distinctly remembering that Janeway had referred to only one new officer being transferred to their vessel. The sparkles coalesced into three figures, one tall, two a fraction of the size, and the Borg suddenly understood why the captain had dispatched her to greet the last minute additions to the crew.

"Seven!"

The surprisingly large form of Naomi Wildman sprang from the transporter pad almost before she had finished materializing, dashing across the deck to fling herself in the Borg's arms. Hugging her tightly, Seven listened to her babble and smiled widely as Samantha, now a junior lieutenant, stepped off the dais. The biometrics officer was carrying her two bags, and accompanied by her other daughter, Mezoti, a child who, like Seven, had been liberated from the Collective while Voyager had been in the Delta Quadrant.

"I didn't think we'd make it," the stocky blonde woman said, returning the Borg's smile. "I'm so grateful to both Captain Janeway and Captain Thorn in making this transfer possible."

"I am very glad to see you all," Seven said with great sincerity, reaching out with her free arm to hug Mezoti, less effusive than her adoptive sister but apparently just as pleased to see the woman who had acted as her mentor on Voyager. "I did not know you were being transferred to Millennium."

"Does that mean you won't have room for me in your science department?" Samantha asked teasingly as she offered her identification chit to the transporter officer to register her on the crew roster.

"You will always have room in my department," Seven told her. She was not as close to the mother as she was to the children, but she greatly respected Samantha's abilities. Lt. Wildman would be a fine addition to Millennium's biometrics department in a professional capacity, and an incalculable addition to Seven's personal life. Suddenly, her entire day was looking up.

Hugging Naomi one more time, she reluctantly released her hold on the girl, still somewhat shocked at how much she had grown in the time they had been apart. "I cannot visit with you at the moment as I would like," she said regretfully. "We are preparing for the transition jump, and I must finish my tasks before reporting to the bridge."

"We understand," Samantha said, receiving her chit back from the transporter operator who would have encoded it with her new orders, along with her cabin assignment. "We'll settle in, and as soon as things calm down a bit, we'll get together."

"That would be acceptable," Seven said, beaming as the trio headed off to find their quarters.

The smile stayed with her as she checked the time and moved quickly for the turbolift, knowing that she was required to be on the bridge by now. As Seven stepped off the lift, the captain glanced over her shoulder and grinned crookedly, undoubtedly pleased that the surprise she had managed for her spouse had been so successful. The Borg offered her a look of pure devotion, loving the other woman with a pure and sweet intensity, before composing herself to move over to her station where she resumed her duties for preparing for the jump. She was aware of the first officer glancing at her with an odd expression on his angular features, but he didn't say anything to her. She suspected he was wondering why she was so happy, but now was not the time to discuss it. She knew her new friend would understand once she had explained to him how much the arrival of Naomi and Mezoti meant to her.

It was only a few moments later that the Doctor arrived on the bridge. The Emergency Medical Hologram was a sparse figure beneath his long white lab coat, and he took a moment to look around the bridge appreciably after leaving the turbolift. Curious, the Borg looked back over her shoulder at him, surprised when he shot what appeared to be an apprehensive look at the captain before heading directly for the science officer's station. He was carrying a hypospray and another tiny box, a monitoring device of some sort.

"Instructions from Dr. Pulaski," he said, in a voice that was slightly louder than it had to be as he handed it to the young woman. "This is for the captain. You are to administer the sedative to her, and make sure the monitor is activated so that the bio-readings are transmitted to sickbay prior to the transition jump."

Bemused, Seven accepted the equipment, aware of Janeway, who was across the bridge at an auxiliary engineering station, turning to look sharply at them. The Doctor became aware of the glare as well, and he offered the captain a brittle smile.

"Don't shoot the messenger," he requested, before turning around and hastily vacating the bridge.

Seven, unsure what that was about, glanced at the captain. She was surprised to see a steel glint in her eyes indicating that Janeway was absolutely furious. That was when Seven realized her spouse had been contemplating going through the jump without medication. Had the young woman been aware Janeway was entertaining such a reckless idea, she would have confronted her spouse about it long before now. Part of the team performing the initial tests on the propulsion system, Seven had witnessed the full effects of what happened to Humans of Terran extraction who jumped without assistance. She would never allow her spouse to experience it.

As the science officer, Seven of Nine had absolutely no authority to demand the captain be placed under sedation if that wasn't Janeway's wish. As her spouse, however, she would have to insist upon it. Yet, to do so on the bridge would challenge the captain's authority, and not even a captain's spouse had the right to do that. In fact, perhaps a spouse had less right than anyone else, because of the conflict of interest involved. In contrast, the captain, with such a public announcement of her medication arriving, was placed in the position of having to openly refuse to take it in order to retain command of the ship through the jump. Janeway was no fool. She knew such a declaration would push her spouse into a position of challenging her directly which would not be good for either of them. Seven's regard for Pulaski's deviousness increased considerably.

The knowledge of the situation was exchanged in a single glance between them, then Janeway lifted her chin and glanced at Zar who was apparently unaware of the subtle undercurrents going on around him.

"Mr. Zar, you have the bridge," she said, her tone a little icier than it would otherwise have been. "Set course for the coordinates at warp 9.5, activate the transition drive, and take the ship through the jump."

"Aye, Captain," he replied, detecting her mood, and uncertain from where it originated. He offered Seven an odd look as he stood up from his first officer station, as if hoping the Borg could provide some explanation, and moved to the upper level, taking a seat in the command chair. Janeway strode briskly for the ready room door which was located at the rear of the bridge, between the two turbolift shafts. She did not look back at her science officer. "Lt. Hansen, you're with me."

Seven dipped her head and followed the angry captain into her office. Once inside, she lifted a brow as Janeway stomped up the ramps leading to the upper level and the sofa, waving her hands, obviously agitated and upset.

"I can't believe she did that," she said furiously. "Who the hell does she think she is?"

"Your CMO is responsible for the health of the crew," Seven said coolly as she preparedthe hypospray. "I cannot believe that you were prepared to attempt this jump without the proper medication."

Janeway turned and glared at her, suddenly provided with a nice target on which to focus her aggravation. "Lieutenant, I am perfectly capable of commanding this vessel without..." she began angrily.

"No, you are not," Seven interrupted, her own anger rising, leaving behind her professional role on the ship to become the woman's spouse. "I have seen, first hand, the results of the jump on Terrans, Kathryn. You could not continue to function while undergoing such debilitating physical reactions." Janeway blinked, surprised at the heat in her partner's voice. Seven sighed, softening. "I know it is difficult for you to believe without experiencing it yourself," she added in a gentler tone. "You find it hard to trust reports and papers that indicate it would affect you, but trust me, Kathryn." She held out the hypospray. "Take the medication. Please."

Janeway frowned, her brows lowered, her arms crossed firmly over her chest as she refused to accept the medical devices. "I know it might be trying for others to have me on the bridge during transition. However, if something goes wrong, the ship may need my experience. If I stay in the ready room during the jump..."

"Who will be assigned to stay with you?" Seven interrupted flatly. "Kathryn, the effects are such that you could conceivably lose control of all your bodily functions, something the medication is designed to prevent. Such a complete loss of motor function would leave you extremely vulnerable. You would require someone standing by in order to provide you with immediate treatment." She lifted her brow. "Who on this vessel would you trust to see you in such astate? The Doctor? He is the only physician on duty for the transition because both Pulaski and Spencer are Terran. Would you take him away from monitoring the well-being of the entire ship just to be at your side as you attempt to suffer the effects of a transition jump without medication? Myself? I am the officer most familiar with this drive. Would you have me leave my post on the bridge at such a crucial time in order to remain with you? Ro Laren? B'Elanna Torres? Is their presence at their posts not required, Kathryn?"

Janeway's respiration was heavy, her chest heaving, her eyes dark and grey.

"I'm being an ass, aren't I?"

Seven tilted her head. "You do not wish to relinquish control of your vessel," she allowed in an understanding tone. "Particularly since you have only read the reports and have not actually witnessed a transition jump. You believe in your heart that you are letting down the crew by handing over command to someone else during this delicate time, particularly since you do not know Commander Zar that well. However, Kathryn, there is simply no other choice."

"Every instinct tells me not to do this," Janeway said crossly

"Intellect tells you that you must, however," Seven countered evenly.

Janeway stared at her for a moment more, searching her face, demanding her assurance that the Borg was being completely honest with her. Seven did not alter her stern expression, and finally, the captain dipped her head and moved over to the sofa, stretching out on its cushions. Seven felt no triumph at her partner's surrender. Rather, she was saddened by it, knowing that she was the only one on the ship to whom the captain could relinquish her position of authority, and aware that Pulaski knew it, too. She sat on the edge of the sofa beside the supine captain and carefully strapped the tiny box to Janeway's arm, making sure it was activated. The bio-readings would be transmitted to sickbay where they would be monitored by the Doctor, along with the readings from the other medicated Terrans.

"This is such a ridiculous way to travel," Janeway grumbled.

Seven eyed her. "It is the reality of the transition drive," she said quietly. She raised the hypospray, and the captain held up her hand.

"No," Janeway said tightly. "I'll do it."

Seven hesitated, and then handed her the hypospray containing the medication. Janeway looked at her darkly, inhaling deeply as she lifted the device to her neck and activated it, a soft hiss reaching the Borg's ears as the contents were injected into her partner's bloodstream.

Immediately, Janeway's eyelids fluttered and her head slumped back, the hypospray dropping from suddenly nerveless fingers. Seven caught it before it fell, and found a light afghan which she draped over the unconscious form of her spouse. She leaned down and gently kissed Janeway on the forehead, despairing of the captain's stubbornness, even as she loved her dearly for it. It had caused her spouse such grief in the past ... and undoubtedly would cause her more problems in the future ... yet, dealing with it was part of Seven's responsibility to her partner. To remind her that, for all her indomitable will and great abilities, Janeway was still very much Human.

Shaking her head slightly, she left Janeway on the sofa, moving down the ramp to return to the bridge and her post where she was assigned for the upcoming jump.

Seven had been the first person he had met from Millennium ... not counting the helmsman, Nog, who, like Zar, had been waiting to report at DS9. Her easy and open acceptance of him had touched the hybrid's heart in a way he hadn't expected. Always scoffing at those stories with characters experiencing love at first sight, of meeting someone and experiencing instant chemistry and attraction, he was somewhat horrified to discover it happening to him. Seven and he had shared lunch on the station, talking for a couple of hours about her work which fascinated him almost as much as she did. Later, he had asked her out, and after an initial refusal, she had suggested that they get together for dinner in her quarters the next night.

Suddenly, the universe had been a much brighter place, and the struggles he had faced as the offspring of a Cardassian in the Federation seemed inconsequential. He could not wait for the mission to begin, knowing that he and the beautiful young woman would be serving together for a year, on a vessel cut off from the rest of the Federation which was bound to draw the crew closer regardless of professional protocols.

Then he discovered she was married, and that her invitation for dinner and scientific discussion had been exactly that and nothing more. Fortunate to discover it prior to showing up for the meal, he was further relieved to find that others had also been invited for the evening, preventing a potentially awkward situation. However, while he knew he couldn't pursue Seven romantically, it didn't mean his heart was registering the message as quickly as his head. Indeed, it seemed that every time he saw her, the emotion became more intense, despite his best effort to suppress it. Of course, after witnessing a few more looks like that from her to her spouse, any lingering infatuation would probably be cured, he decided, though it still hurt to know Seven would probably never offer him such an emotionally charged gaze.

Inhaling deeply, he concentrated on making sure all the departments were secured, and that the preparations for the jump were coming along smoothly. He was aware that about ten percent of the crew was of Terran extraction, including a few key officers, which meant they would be unavailable for the jump. Another five percent, though not Terran, were also being sedated, just in case. He glanced over at the captain, wondering when she was going to take her medication. For that matter, he wondered when she was going to turn command over to him as expected and retire to her quarters.

Time was growing progressively short, and it occurred to him that she might not intend to be medicated, despite the reports that such an action would be inadvisable. He frowned, wondering what he should do in that event. He knew he had the authority to question her actions, but he certainly didn't want to do it this early. They hadn't operated as a command team nearly long enough to have such a debate so soon. Was that the reason she wasn't going to take the medication? Because she didn't trust him to take her ship through the jump?

The arrival of the Doctor, apparently an EMH of some kind, prevented Zar from worrying about it further. The medication delivered to the science officer, along with strict instructions from the CMO on how to administer it to the captain, apparently forced the issue. Zar rose quickly to his feet as the captain addressed him, formally handing over command. From the look in her eyes, however, he could tell Janeway wasn't pleased. Did that have to do with him? Or was it simply because she hated to abdicate her command for anyone? For his own peace of mind, he decided to believe it was the latter, rather than think his captain might be having difficulty getting past his appearance in order to treat him as her proper second in command.

Lt. Hansen ... Seven, he reminded himself, a Borg designation that she preferred and that most of the rest of the crew called her ... accompanied the captain into the ready room as he took his place in the command chair.

He glanced around the bridge as he sank into the comfortable cushions, feeling the same sense of nervousness he always did at taking the center seat. Janeway would be totally unavailable for this jump, even if things went wrong, and it would be completely his responsibility as senior officer to handle things. Sitting in this center chair overlooking the bridge crew as a king would gaze upon his court from his throne, he felt slightly dizzy. In the past, Zar knew that there had been an attempt to incorporate the command position with the rest of the bridge, placing the chair in line with the first officer and counselor, bringing it down to the level of the other stations. With Millennium, however, Starfleet had gone back to an older style of design, where the command chair was separate and distinct from the rest of the bridge crew, elevated and positioned so that everything was in front of the captain, making it very clear who was in command.

He swallowed hard and told himself not to be nervous. He had been placed in varied command situations over the span of his career which meant this was nothing new. The fact that it was the largest ship to which he had ever been assigned, that this vessel boasted the NX in front of its call letters indicating it was an experimental vessel, that he had never been responsible for so many crewmembers in such a phenomenal venture, were things he tried very hard not to think about.

At tactical, Lt. Commander Ro Laren maintained her board, ignoring the change of command. She was Bajoran, and to this point, had shown little regard for the first officer. As the chief of security and third in command, she should be the one to act as his exec during this jump. However, she didn't appear to making any attempt to move into the role. The last thing they needed was a clash of personalities, particularly if things did not go as smoothly as planned. That meant that Seven, as science officer, would be the next obvious choice, and he suspected that they would work smoothly together. He reminded himself sharply that he had to be able to work with Ro Laren in the future, and the sooner he found out if they could both get past certain biases and reservations, the better it would be.

"Commander Ro," he said quietly. "If you please."

Ro started abruptly, glancing at him in what might have been surprise, but after only a slight hesitation, she dipped her head. "Aye, sir," she responded. She didn't even choke on the formal address, he was pleased to note.

Relinquishing her post to another crewmember for a brief moment, Ro strode gracefully around the bridge, her motion that of a dancer ... or an assassin. This was the typical last minute visual check on the other posts, and it seemed to him that her eyes were unnaturally dark, the brooding features frozen. Obviously, she was uncomfortable, but neither of them had much choice in the matter. It was not required that senior staff members like each other, but they did need to be able to work together. He made a mental note to try to get to know Ro better, to reach out in the near future to try to bridge the chasm brought on by political and cultural influences.

"What's the status with sickbay?" he asked, resting his hands lightly on the arms of the chair.

"Dr. Pulaski has transferred control of sickbay to the Doctor. ... to Dr. Lewis," Ro said, faltering over the name as she looked over Elisa Tarn's shoulder. Zar wasn't sure why, but suspected it had to do with an EMH taking on an actual name. He remembered some mention of it being an issue when he had met the CMO, and when he had been at dinner with Seven, the other guests had included the hologram. His choice of 'Dr. E.M. Lewis' had generated much discussion, and Zar had understood that the 'Lewis' came from his creator in some fashion. "He reports that the members of the crew requiring sedation are being monitored. He's also requesting that anyone else who suffers ill effects from the jump report to sickbay as soon as possible."

"Time to launch?" he asked.

"Two minutes," Lt. Nog reported from the helm. "USS Endeavor remains on a parallel course aft and starboard."

"Just make sure they stay out of the way," Zar muttered, dismissing the Starfleet science vessel. It would be Millennium's last direct communication with the Federation until they returned, and Starfleet had deemed it necessary that the Nebula-class vessel be present both to monitor the jump, and to see them off as a sort of honor guard.

From the corner of his eye, he detected a hint of motion, and he watched as Seven quietly took her place at the science station, her face composed and still. He wanted to ask if the captain had been sedated, and then decided that the Borg probably wouldn't be out here if Janeway hadn't. He touched the controls on the arm of his chair, accessing the ship-wide communications grid.

"All hands, prepare for transition," he said, and cut the channel.

"Engineering reports warp engines are at full," Ro said professionally, resuming her place at tactical. "Shields at maximum."

"Current speed is at warp seven," Nog reported.

"Let it loose, Lieutenant," Zar commanded. "Increase to warp factor nine."

"USS Endeavor wishes us good luck and godspeed," Ensign Tarn reported from Ops. Fresh from the Academy, this was the young redhead's first tour of duty, and she seemed a little jittery, her voice edged with nervousness. "They're reducing speed and falling off."

In contrast, the more experienced Nog was completely cool. "Increasing speed to warp factor nine." The Ferengi's hands on his helm were delicate but sure, and Zar could almost feel the power ripple through the ship as all the energy from the engines was channeled into the warp manifold.  "We are at warp nine. Increasing to warp nine point one."

"All systems remain optimal," Tarn said. "Structual integrity field at one hundred percent."

"We are at nine point two," the helmsman informed the commander in his high, piping voice.

"Activate transition drive," Zar ordered.

"Transition drive activated," Seven spoke precisely. "Energy coils are online."

"The coordinates have been set," Ro said smoothly. "Subspace corridor is forming."

"Nine point three," Nog said. "Nine point four."

There was a slight vibration, a hum, and on the fore viewscreen, a small distortion appeared, growing larger as they approached the jump coordinates.

"Nine point five," Nog announced at the same time that Seven remarked casually "Corridor has been accessed."

There was a minor jolt as the Millennium entered the subspace conduit, and on the viewscreen, the image of stars shooting past gave way to a circular tunnel of light and color, swirling in a morass of flickering illumination and flashes of energy. It was difficult to watch for very long, and even Zar found that he could not look directly at it for more than a minute at a time without becoming queasy.

"Structural integrity remains at ninety-seven percent," Tarn said. The young woman's jaw was set firm, and Zar could see her swallow convulsively now and again. Although of Human extraction, the young ensign was from a planet in the Argalis Cluster, and deemed immune to the effects of the drive. Zar wondered if that was wishful thinking on the part of the medical staff.

He frowned and looked around, noting that the genetically Human crew members who had escaped sedation because of their non-Terran brain chemistry, appeared vaguely ill. It wasn't anything he could put his finger on, but there was a difference in how the ship was traveling that went beyond what he was seeing on the viewscreen, and what the sensors were telling him. It wasn't a vibration exactly, or a sound, but something different and tangible was present in this mode of travel, leaving him with a sense of uneasiness and a metallic taste at the back of his throat.

"Transition at five percent completion," Seven remarked. Zar wondered if that sudden terseness to her tone was because she was fully involved with monitoring the drive, or if she, too, was feeling the effects of the jump.

At five percent completion, that meant they had already covered 3500 light-years, well out of Federation territory at this point. Zar caught his breath, astounded at the reality of what they were doing, and feeling more than a little awed as well. Every minute that passed meant huge chunks of distance being eaten up, of passing by countless worlds, systems, anomalies, unknown and unseen. The tension on the bridge remained high, and there were no extraneous conversations, only terse reports of the vessel's progress.

"Transition at twenty-five percent completion," Seven announced.

"Engine room reports all levels are in the green," Ro said. "Targeting coordinates remain firm."

"Understood," Zar said, pleased. Everything was going as smoothly as he could have hoped, and the crew seemed to be withstanding the physical effects, even if it wasn't particularly pleasant. Fortunately, they only had about fifteen more minutes to go.

"Transition at fifty percent completion."

Zar inhaled. They were now 35,000 light years from the Federation, perhaps in Borg space at this moment. Were they detectable to the Collective? If so, it wouldn't take long to find out since the terrifying cybernetic beings possessed their own form of transwarp propulsion. However, the minutes continued to pass without incident, and he straightened in his chair.

"All hands, stand by for jump completion," he announced finally. The rest of the bridge crew became even more alert, if that were possible, and he glanced over at his acting exec. "Tactical?"

"All weapons are online," Ro said. "Phasers are standing by." It wasn't as if they would have time to use them, of course, should something nasty be waiting for them on the other side, but Zar was aware it provided a tiny, psychological sense of security. "Shields at maximum."

"As soon as we're clear and the conduit has collapsed, power down to warp six, Lt. Nog," Zar ordered.

"Understood, Commander."

"Approaching exit coordinates," Ro commented.

"Brace for exit," Zar said, his fingers tightening on the arms of his chair.

"Sensors detect no obstacles," Tarn remarked, though that was an afterthought. The sensors simply weren't fast enough to detect anything at this speed. By the time she said it, they were already past the farthest point the sensors could discern.

There was another jolt, the swirling colors and light on the screen dissipating with a bright flash that left the bridge crew blinking painfully. Zar made a note to have the viewscreen dimmed for any future jumps. Abruptly, they were back in real space, tearing along at warp nine, though as soon as they were clear, Nog immediately began to rein in the ship, fighting it slightly, as if it were a stallion finally running free and not anxious to slow to the pressure of the bit.

"Transition jump complete," Seven said, a touch of satisfaction in her voice. "Subspace conduit has collapsed."

"Exit coordinates verified," Ro said. "Millennium is just outside the Ocampa star system."

"Lt. Nog, set course for the Ocampa homeworld," Zar instructed. "It's the fifth planet."

He leaned forward in his seat, keenly interested in the area which had drawn a tiny, Intrepid-class starship across two quadrants seven years earlier. Would Millennium's voyage in the Delta Quadrant be as significant and exciting as that vessel's journey had turned out to be?

"Captain to sickbay," she croaked.

"Sickbay here," came the cheerful tones of the Doctor. Apparently, he was enjoying the opportunity to be in charge while the other two medical officers were off duty.

"Doctor, I don't believe the medication worked," Janeway said. She stared dully across the ready room and tried to will her body to stop hurting, discovering that it had no more interest in obeying her orders than her partner did at times. She tasted bile at the back of her throat, and concentrated very hard on not vomiting, certain that the effort would cause her head to fly off her shoulders.

"If you're sitting up and talking so soon after the jump, then it worked," he said in that irritatingly sunny tone. "It obviously handled the worst of the effects."

Janeway gulped again. The worst of the effects?

"Doctor, I don't feel well," she tried again. "Is there anything you can give me."

"We already did, Captain," he explained. "What you're feeling is basically your brain chemistry settling back to normal, which will result in some lingering nausea and soreness. You'll just have to suffer through it, I'm afraid, and the symptoms should disappear on their own over the next ten to twenty minutes." He paused. "I really don't have time to chat, Captain. I have a few patients who, in retrospect, should have been sedated for the jump but weren't, and they're fully occupying my attention at the moment. It seems that all the Human crewmembers experienced symptoms to a certain extent."

"Understood," she said. "Keep me advised of the situation, Doctor."

Moving cautiously, she rose to her feet and tottered over to the replicator where she instructed it to provide a glass of ginger ale ... flat. She sipped the old fashioned soda carefully, pleased that one of her mother's favorite remedies proved immediately effective, her tender tummy quieting its complaints. Once she was sure that she was once again functioning with some alertness, she moved down to the lower level, feeling properly chastened. Obviously, Pulaski, Seven, and all those medical reports had not been exaggerating the effects of the transition jump on Humans, and she shuddered to think what might have happened had she stood by her refusal to be medicated.

She decided she owed Pulaski a bit of an apology, though that would probably give the CMO more ammunition to work with the next time they had a difference of opinion. She was very grateful that they would probably not have to access the drive again until it was time for Millennium to return to the Alpha Quadrant. That was a long time into the future at this point, and with any luck, perhaps Pulaski and her medical team would have come up with something more efficient to counteract the effects ... perhaps even one that would allow Janeway to remain functioning. She made a note to remind Pulaski to allocate a certain amount of resources into researching it during the mission.

Inhaling deeply, she straightened her tunic and strode out onto the bridge, the door of the ready room opening and closing with an inaudible displacement of air. She rather preferred being able to enter the bridge unnoticed, with not even by the sound of the door to announce her presence. It provided her with a private moment to survey her surroundings, checking the status of her staff. Zar was sitting in the command chair while the rest of the bridge crew appeared to be working attentively at their stations. On the viewscreen, a planet curved across a portion of it, the shimmer around the horizon indicating an atmosphere. It was an unappealing world, brown, dusty, a planet without any blues or greens to indicate water or vegetation. It was also chillingly familiar, and for just a moment, Janeway was back to that time eight years earlier when she first beheld it, the future uncertain, knowing only that she and her ship were in a great deal of trouble after having been dragged across the galaxy by an uncaring entity.

She set her jaw firmly. This time, she was here on her own terms, she reminded herself. There were things to do and an entire quadrant to explore, neither of which were getting done with her gawking at the planet and wallowing in nostalgia.

"Report," she said briskly, making her presence felt.

Zar stood up immediately, turning his head as he relinquished command to her with hardly an alteration of expression. She wondered why she had been so concerned about it, and decided it was just her subconscious need to always be in control causing her unnecessary ... and unworthy ... trepidation about the young man.

"The exit coordinates were accurate," he said as he stood beside her chair, hands linked behind his back. "We are now in orbit around the planet designated as the Ocampa homeworld."

"Any contact with them?" she asked as she took a seat.

"Not yet," he said.

Ro glanced over from her position at tactical. "The sensors aren't detecting any power signatures," she informed Janeway.

"Nor are the sensors picking up any life signs on the planet," Tarn volunteered.

"None at all?" Janeway lifted an eyebrow, thinking of the Kazon-Ogla who had maintained a colony of sorts on the surface. Apparently, they had finally surrendered to the reality of a world which possessed no nucleogenic particles in the atmosphere, making it impossible for the planet to produce clouds and rain.

"The Ocampa are located three kilometers underground," Seven explained to the young operations officer in a tone that indicated Tarn should have known. "Increase power to scans to compensate for a subterranean barrier."

Janeway made a note that the ensign had not briefed herself thoroughly on Voyager's initial mission. It wasn't required that Tarn do so, of course, but it would have been a mark of a good officer if she had. Of course, it was possible the captain and the Borg were expecting too much of the young woman on her first official alpha shift duty. Patience, Janeway reminded herself.

"Aye, sir," Tarn said in a subdued tone, and proceeded to run a few more scans.

"Sickbay reports lingering illness among the crew throughout the ship," Zar reported. "However, it isn't anything they're unable to handle. Doctors Pulaski and Spencer have returned to duty."

"Very good," the captain said. She took the opportunity to step down from her command chair onto the lower level where her spouse was working. Leaning over the young woman's shoulder, Janeway rested her hand unobtrusively on her upper back. Seven looked a trifle ill, her face paler than normal, with a certain tightness around her eyes. Janeway knew that even her partner had experienced a bit of the transition effect, despite her nanoprobes.

"The slipstream drive didn't affect the crew of Voyager like this," the captain murmured.

"Voyager's slipstream drive was not very accurate," Seven reminded her with a slight edge in her tone. "To create a subspace corridor where there is no drift and the exit coordinates are always precise, unaffected by spatial phenomena, the transition stream has to be many times faster, with a denser, more refined conduit. Those enhancements are undoubtedly the cause of the debilitating physical effects, though why they are hardest on Terrans is, as yet, unknown."

Janeway considered that. "No such thing as a free lunch, I guess," she said.

"Please, do not say 'lunch'," Seven begged.

Janeway glanced at her, smiled faintly at the unintentional humor, and patted her on the shoulder. "Sorry," she apologized. She moved over to tactical where Ro was concentrating on maintaining the shields and constantly scanning for the presence of any Kazon vessels coming to investigate the Millennium's sudden arrival in the Delta Quadrant. "Anything?"

"Nothing so far," Ro said.

Janeway nodded and moved across to Ops, passing behind the helm to which she only gave a fleeting glance, though she muttered in passing, "Well done, Lieutenant. You handled the ship admirably in the conduit."

"Thank you, Captain," Nog murmured in return. Not effusively grateful ... merely a professional acknowledgment of her approval. Janeway liked that.

Ensign Tarn did not look up as the captain paused by her console, but from the flush at the back of her neck, Janeway knew the young woman was aware of her. She resisted the urge to smile, remembering how nervous she had been on her first assignment. She recognized that this bridge crew wasn't the smoothly functioning unit she was used to on Voyager, but that would come with time.

"Report," she said.

"Sensors have detected the barrier, but nothing beyond," Tarn said. "As of yet, I'm unable to find any breeches in the field through which a transporter signal could penetrate."

"The barrier was decaying the last time we were here," Ro interjected, and Janeway turned to regard her, raising her eyebrow in interest. "However, the whole point to the Caretaker providing them with the last of his array's energy was to be sure they had the proper protection after he died."

"For approximately five years," Janeway said thoughtfully as she returned to her chair. "That's been exceeded, though it is possible the Ocampa found a way to extend their energy reserves and maintain the barrier's strength. It was certainly sealed up tight when we left."

"Without any tunnels to the surface, and no breeches in the subterranean barrier, it will be impossible to transport anyone down," Seven said, glancing back at the captain. "There is still no response to our hails."

"Captain, I am detecting a small fluctuation in the energy field," Tarn announced in triumph. "It's not very big, but I believe we can punch a transporter signal through it."

"Good work, Ensign," Janeway said with satisfaction. "Mr. Zar, lead an away team down there. See what's going on. Contact us as soon as you discover anything definite."

"Aye, Captain," Zar said. He paused for an infinitesimal second, mentally assembling his away team before tapping his comm badge. "Lt. Torres, report to transporter room one for away mission duty." He cut the channel. "Seven, Ensign Tarn, you're with me."

"I'll dispatch two security officers to accompany you," Ro said, receiving a nod from the Cardassian hybrid. The captain was pleased that Ro had thought to make the offer, but somewhat disappointed she hadn't offered to go. Patience, she reminded herself.  It wasn't just for the newcomers to her crew that the captain had to grant a certain leeway.

"Mr. Zar," Janeway offered mildly, "you might also want to take the Counselor. This is her homeworld after all."

"Of course," he said, dipping his head in acknowledgment of the suggestion as he headed for the turbolift, with Tarn and Seven in tow.

Just before they reached it, the Borg took a brief second to glance over her shoulder at the captain, a profound exchange of emotion with their eyes since neither knew what they would find down there. It was the reality of starship life that tragedy could strike at any moment, particularly when venturing into the unknown, but there was no hesitation from either of them. The significant look was necessary, however, regardless of who might notice it and what a lower ranked officer might think about it. It was a glance avowing how much Janeway and Seven loved each other, and that whatever happened, that devotion would never change.

Then the away team was gone, the turbolift door sliding shut with a subtle hiss, and Janeway resolutely turned her eyes forward, staring at the brown planet filling the viewscreen. She was reminded acutely of the last time she had seen this world, at what had been the beginning of a most remarkable adventure.

She assumed it would be the same in this case.

"Kes?"

"I sense nothing," Kes said in a voice entirely unlike her own. It was bleak and empty.

Zar, his angular features somber, raised his tricorder. "Perhaps because there's nothing to sense," he said, frowning. "I'm not detecting any life forms above the level of insects."

Seven was curious as to why Kes thought she could 'sense' her people, since it was the Borg's understanding that all the young woman's psychic abilities had been 'burned out' when she and the holographic Sek had merged a year or so earlier. Had those neural pathways regenerated while Kes had served on the Enterprise? The science officer wasn't sure why it bothered her, but it did, as did the sense of desolation and abandonment that oppressed the away team. Not far away, the two security members that Ro had sent with them, Briggs and Graf, shifted uneasily, resting their hands on the phasers at their waist, their keen eyes constantly scanning their nearby surroundings. Briggs was a large man, dark-skinned and bald, while Graf was a statuesque woman with white blonde hair and pale eyes, both experienced officers and veterans of the Dominion War. They made a striking visual contrast standing there in the artificial illumination of the cavern.

"What now?" B'Elanna asked, glancing back at the first officer. Her tone was truculent, and Seven frowned as she looked at her friend. The engineer had been in a foul mood from the moment she had appeared ... late ... in the transporter room, and now she was regarding Zar with active dislike. It occurred to Seven that the Klingon, once a member of the Maquis, was not welcoming the new first officer with open arms. Such openly displayed antagonism from the engineer had not occurred since ... well, since Seven had first become a member of Voyager and the engineer had shown her distaste for the young Borg.

Zar frowned, looking at her. "Is there a problem here, Lieutenant?" he asked, leaning heavily on the rank.

B'Elanna glared at him, then lowered her gaze, apparently not ready to push it ... as yet.

"No," she mumbled.

"I'm sorry," Zar said, his voice becoming softer and more sinister, "I didn't hear you."

"No ... sir," B'Elanna said in a clearer voice, but the dark look she shot him was one of pure malice.

He stared at her, and then turned his head toward Seven, almost as if he didn't want to deal with the Klingon any longer. "Lt. Hansen, you take Torres and Briggs with you. Cover the city to the west. I'll take the Counselor, Tarn and Graf with me to cover the city to the east. Stay in touch and don't hesitate to hail if you spot anything out of the ordinary."

"What constitutes 'out of the ordinary'?" Seven wanted to know, surprised to have been placed in charge of her portion of the away team, since technically, the chief engineer had more seniority, but prepared to accept the responsibility.  B'Elanna, meanwhile, didn't look as if she cared one way or the other.

He grinned crookedly at the Borg, his boney features abruptly softening. "A life form," he offered. "Or some reason to explain why a world supposedly full of Ocampa appears to be deserted." He glanced up, looking at the large panels far above that simulated sunlight in this subterranean facility. "Is this on a cycle?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.

Kes lifted her head. "When I lived here, it was on a twenty hour rotation, ten hours of light, and ten of darkness," she said distantly. She looked overhead. "Judging from the 'sun', we have approximately four hours of 'daylight' left."

"If we find nothing, we'll meet back here in four hours," Zar said. He dipped his head at Seven. "Good luck."

She raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment, and moved toward the west, the rest of her team in tow. As they worked their way through the empty thoroughfares and echoing buildings, their mood grew progressively more tense. It was as if no one had ever lived here, as if the buildings and streets had sprung from the earth unassisted and were merely waiting for the first inhabitants. None of the interior rooms they searched held any clue as to what had happened to the thousands living in this subterranean cavern, only that the departure had been sudden and apparently unexpected. Items appeared here and there on the floor, covered in dust, indicating that perhaps a few beings had been up and about during that time, and had dropped them suddenly. However, there was no damage to the items, not as if they had been flung aside in an effort to flee. A check with the other away team indicated that they were coming across the same general evidence of desertion, along with the common conclusion that whatever happened, probably had done so at night when most of the populace was asleep. Seven terminated the communication with dissatisfaction, glancing around uneasily as they resumed their exploration.

Beside her, she was aware of B'Elanna moving guardedly, a disgruntled expression still on her face. Further back, Lt. Briggs brought up the rear, separated by a few yards as if aware that the other two officers might wish to have a private conversation.

"Lt. Torres," Seven began in a low tone, aware that they were on duty and that she should be more formal, "What is troubling you? The city?"

"It's not the city," the engineer replied shortly.

"What is it?"

"I can't believe having that Cardie around doesn't bother you," B'Elanna replied, shooting an outraged look at the Borg.

"'Cardie'?" Seven glanced at her, blinking slightly. "Are you referring to Commander Zar?"

B'Elanna looked away, unable to hold her gaze. Obviously, the engineer was aware she was behaving in an unacceptable manner, but seemed unable to help it. "Of all the people they could have chosen for first officer, why him?" she demanded angrily. "Didn't Starfleet know how hard it would be for the Bajorans and ex-Maquis to be cooped up with him for over a year? What did they think they're doing?"

Seven raised an eyebrow. "I am sure they expected the crewmembers to adapt," she said pointedly. "He is very qualified for the position of first officer."

B'Elanna shot her a look. "You sound as if you actually like him," she said in an astonished tone.

Seven nodded. "I do," she responded honestly. "He is quite intelligent and has a most acceptable personality. I do not understand why you object to his presence."

"He's a Cardie!" B'Elanna responded hotly, as if that were explanation enough.

"A Cardassian," Seven translated, finally understanding what the slang term was referring to. "However, he is also Bajoran, B'Elanna." She paused. "You dislike him for what he is rather than who he is, just as you initially objected to me because I am Borg."

B'Elanna stopped in her tracks, staring at her, before finally looking away, her face flushed. "That's different," she said lamely.

"I fail to see how," Seven remarked.

"Lt. Hansen?"

Both Seven and B'Elanna looked back at the security officer who was standing in front of double doors leading into a building that seemed much larger than the rest. He was looking up, his tricorder raised as he aimed it at the upper floors.

"Yes, Lt. Briggs?" Seven queried, slightly disappointed that the conversation with B'Elanna had been interrupted, and determined to pursue it further at some future time. Such antagonism toward the first officer on the engineer's part would not only harm her friend, but also the functioning of the ship. As a senior officer, it was part of Seven's responsibility to try to curb potential problems before they reached that stage, or worse ... as far as B'Elanna was concerned .... had to be brought to the attention of the captain.

"My tricorder is picking up organic remains," he said.

"I remember this place," B'Elanna interjected suddenly, her head tilted back as she regarded the structure. "It's the medical infirmary where Harry Kim and I were first transported by the Caretaker eight years ago."

"We should investigate," Seven decided.

The trio moved into the facility, moving through the double doors into an empty lobby and, beyond, into the corridors and up several flights of stairs, following the intermittent readings on their tricorders. Unlike other structures, there seemed to be some sense of a hasty departure here, some clues indicating disorganization and uncertainty, with several items smashed and broken, as if there had been a struggle of sorts to resist whatever had happened. In one of the larger rooms, which the away team identified as an emergency room, they discovered three corpses. Seven immediately tapped her comm badge.

"Seven to Commander Zar," she said.

"Zar here."

"Commander, we have discovered what could possibly be three Ocampa casualties within the medical facility," she said.

"Stay put. We're on our way."

"Are you sure they're Ocampa?" B'Elanna asked dubiously as she regarded the desiccated remains lying in the beds. Beside them, the equipment that apparently had been monitoring their vital signs were inactive, without power, though the lights and air circulation system seemed to be still functioning. The corpses had mummified in the dry, sterilized air of the hospital, and it was difficult to tell if they were female or male. Their tricorders registered them as Ocampa, however, two males and one female.

"It's possible they were on life support when the ... exodus occurred," Seven mused. "Without attendants to maintain the equipment, they died when the devices ceased to function."

"Which leads to the other question of why these patients weren't taken along when the rest were," B'Elanna said.

"If they were patients," Briggs offered, his dark face carved into an obsidian mask.

"What else could they be?" B'Elanna asked him.

"That's the point," he said with unusual gravity. "We just don't know."

B'Elanna stared at the young man, a few years her junior, and turned away. Seven saw the Klingon roll her eyes, and resisted the urge to smile at the Klingon's obvious exasperation.

"Do you have any ideas about what might have happened here?" B'Elanna asked the Borg.

"None," Seven admitted. "Perhaps we should search for some form of central processing facility. That may provide more information than our tricorders are able to discern at this point."

"That sounds like a good idea," the engineer agreed. "What if Briggs and I take a look for it, and you wait here for the Car-- Commander?"

Seven stared at her, fully aware that B'Elanna was merely looking for an excuse to avoid being in the presence of Millennium's exec, but allowing that it was still an acceptable idea on its own merits. She nodded after only a brief hesitation.

"Very well," she said. "Once I have conferred with the Commander and Kes about this discovery, I will join you."

"We'll see you then," B'Elanna said, throwing a wave over her shoulder as she took the security officer in tow and vacated the premises. It was obvious by her haste that she had no desire to be there when Zar and his team arrived, and Seven frowned, wondering how she could help her friend see that she was being unreasonable in her attitude toward the new exec.

She sighed, supposing that it would take as much effort as it had to soften B'Elanna's stance against a certain Borg who had arrived on Voyager with little warning. She lifted her tricorder and began to scan the area, hoping to discover more data before the arrival of the rest of the away team.

"It was night when they left," Kes said at one point.

Zar nodded, having deducted that much himself. Only the beds in the various living quarters had been disturbed, and it was apparent that most had been sleeping when they had ... what, abruptly disappeared? Been disintegrated by some weapon? He ran some deep scans, trying to pinpoint any kind of transporter or weapons use, and only managed to detect an unknown particle trace. It could be from a transporter, but if so, it was of a kind that he had never seen before.

He was vaguely surprised when Kes led them to a small, single family dwelling outside the city proper, by the cavern walls where several gardens overgrew, unchecked by pruner's shears, the weeds as prolific as the cultivated plants. Here, Kes went quickly through the house, an expression of sorrow on her face while Zar accompanied her, leaving Tarn and Graf outside to explore the backyard.

When they came across the images of a younger counselor with two older people, Zar realized that this had been where Kes had grown up, and where her family had been living. He was annoyed that she would indulge herself in such a personal pursuit during an away mission. Frowning, he watched as she picked up the image, putting her fingertips on the smooth surface, an expression of deep sorrow on her face.

"This happened more than four years ago," she said suddenly.

He blinked. "How do you know that?" he demanded.

"Because both my parents were five years old when I left," she said, looking over at him with sad eyes that seemed far too old for her face. "Ocampa only live nine years at the most. When a home such as this becomes available, others move in immediately. There was always a waiting list."

He lifted his head, seeing immediately where she was going with this, pleased to know that it hadn't been entirely personal on her part to search this dwelling first. "Your parents were still living here, if the personal effects are any indication."

She nodded. "Ocampa remain vital until the final few weeks," she explained. "Death comes quickly. Therefore, whatever happened had to have occurred before their deaths. I was their only child. No one else would have kept these personal effects on hand."

"The Ocampa left this world before your parents reached age nine which would have been over four years ago," Zar said, reaching the same conclusion she had when she saw the image.

"Long before the five years that the Ocampa were supposed to have remained sealed within this cavern," Kes agreed. Gently, she placed the image back on the table, glancing around with eyes that were bleak and empty. "I had not expected that they would still be alive when I returned," she admitted. "However, I had hoped to visit their resting place, to speak with the elders about them ... to have achieved some form of closure with them. Now, I'm left with a feeling of ... incompleteness."

Zar dipped his head. "I understand," he said, voice rough with his attempt to be gentle. He wondered what it would be like to live for less than a decade, to know that one had only a brief time for their existence. Cardassians lived for well over a hundred on average. So did Bajorans. As a hybrid, he had the potential to live twice as long as either ... or only half because of his unique physiology, a risk he had accepted long ago. Still, even fifty years seemed an eternity compared to the Ocampa and Kes.

He raised an eyebrow. "Uh, if you don't mind my asking..." he began uncertainly.

She shot him a look as they left the home. "Why am I still alive?" she finished for him.

He nodded.

"A year after I had been with Voyager, we came across a female Caretaker named Suspiria who was monitoring another group of Ocampa," Kes explained as they joined the others. Zar saw that Tarn was looking more and more uneasy, as if the emptiness around her was becoming too much for her, and he made a mental note to keep a further eye on her. "The other Ocampa had developed their psychic abilities to the point where they could alter matter at a molecular level. It also increased their life span, with some individuals living almost twenty years."

Tarn blinked suddenly, and from her expression, Zar realized that the young girl didn't think twenty was all that long. Of course, to an Ocampa, that was more than twice as much life. It was all a matter of perspective, Zar reminded himself.

"What happened?" he asked, not familiar with that particular mission though he had tried to skim through most of the official logs from Voyager in an effort to know his new captain better ... not to mention the science officer.

"They taught me how to utilize my own innate psychic abilities," Kes continued. "They also asked me to stay with them, but I refused, and in the end, Suspiria took them with her when she disappeared from this continuum."

"Perhaps she came here and took these Ocampa as well," Tarn suggested.

Zar looked at her. "That's a good idea," he complimented, causing the ensign to look pleased, blushing faintly. "Not only possible, but perhaps probable." He turned back to Kes, continuing to pursue the conversation. "Is that why you're still alive and look so young? Because you made a deliberate attempt to increase your psychic abilities?"

"Perhaps," Kes said. "Or perhaps it was due to my merging with a technological being in Sek. I have no way of knowing how long I can expect to live at this point." She paused. "In truth, I was hoping to confer with some of the scientists here who specialize in Ocampa gerontology but, of course, that's impossible now."

The first officer nodded, and tapped his communicator.

"Zar to Seven," he said. He disliked using the name, finding it far too cold for the young woman he had come to know, but he appreciated that it was the form of address she preferred. "Status."

"We have yet to discover anything of note," Seven's cool reply informed him. "It appears that whatever occurred, did so while most of the population was asleep."

"That's our conclusion as well," Zar agreed. "It obviously happened too quickly for anyone to object, either. We've also determined that this ... disappearance ... had to have taken place more than four years ago, possibly even longer."

"Before the energy barrier was expected to come down," Seven said thoughtfully. "That may be why it is only now beginning to decay. With no demands on the power grid beyond the minimal illumination and life support, the reserves deposited by the Caretaker would have lasted a great deal longer than initially expected."

"Agreed," Zar said. He glanced around. "Continue the search. Contact me if anything else comes to light." Closing the channel, he gestured to the others. "Let's go," he instructed. "There's still some 'daylight' left."

The away team moved out of the garden along the cavern wall, following that in the hopes that perhaps something could be found that the main streets and thoroughfares could not provide. Instead, all they found were more overgrown gardens, and a large hydroponic area that was filled with dead rows of soil, unable to generate greenery without the care the more natural gardens could survive without. Zar was almost relieved when Seven contacted him to let him know they had found some bodies in the medical center.

"Stay put. We're on our way," he instructed before cutting the channel. "Come on," he said when he gathered the others who had been poking gingerly through the dead remains of the greenhouses. "Seven's found something in the infirmary."

Kes seemed to perk up at this, and he didn't have the heart to tell her it was only corpses that the Borg's team had discovered. It didn't take them long to make their way back to the central plaza, and from there, to the medical facility. Zar noted that there seemed to be more indication of a hasty evacuation in this building, or perhaps it was just that more people would have been up and active in a hospital through the night. He was surprised and slightly annoyed when he discovered that Seven had dispatched the chief engineer and the security officer to find the central processing unit. He would rather they had waited for him and his team, but he supposed in retrospect that the sooner they checked out that area, the sooner they would be able to leave the planet and return to Millennium. The surroundings were becoming oppressive, and he felt a strong desire to leave.

"Our scans have determined that these individuals died approximately six years ago," Seven said. "That is undoubtedly when the disappearance occurred as well."

"Six years ago," Kes repeated, astonished.

"That would have been shortly after your encounter with Suspiria," Zar said thoughtfully. He shot a glance at Tarn. "Your theory may be correct, Ensign."

Seven lifted a brow. "Theory?"

"Ensign Tarn suggested that perhaps the female Caretaker retrieved the Ocampa here, after taking her own group to a place of safety," Zar explained. "It would explain why everyone suddenly disappeared."

"But not why she left three Ocampa to die," Seven noted, gesturing slightly at the beds.

"If they were dying of natural causes, and were simply having their lives extended by medical intervention, it's possible that she considered them expendable," Zar countered, enjoying the verbal wrangling with her.

"On the contrary, the Caretaker was just that, an entity who cared for the Ocampa," the Borg responded coolly. "From the logs I have read, it was clear that she considered this species to be her 'children'. One does not leave a child to die."

Zar searched for a response, but a chirp on their comm badges forestalled it.

"Torres to Seven."

"Seven here," the Borg answered, even though technically, the engineer should have contacted the first officer. Zar decided to let it go for the moment. The antagonism of the Klingon would have to be addressed, of course, but the middle of an away mission was neither the time nor the place. "Go ahead."

"Briggs and I checked out the central processing unit of the city," Torres said. "I think you'll want to see what the recording logs picked up six years ago."

Seven glanced at Zar who nodded briefly. "We will join you shortly," she informed the engineer before closing the channel.

Before they left, Kes quietly covered the corpses with sheets, Tarn and Graf assisting her, and then stood for a brief moment, her gaze distant. Zar allowed it, holding Seven back when the Borg would have immediately departed the area, sensing that the counselor needed this moment. Seven glanced uncertainly at the blonde woman, and back at Zar, nodding briefly in unspoken understanding of his consideration. When Kes indicated she was finished, he led the way out of the medical facility and back into the city where the final two members of the away team were located.

In the squat building not far from the central plaza, Torres and Briggs had discovered a room filled with the equipment designed to monitor the function of the city utilities, including power and life support. It also contained the computer core which recorded the governing meetings of the ruling council. There were no such recordings after a meeting where the council debated about an unusual energy trace their sensors had been detecting. Had that been a precursor to the female Caretaker contacting them? Another entity swooping down to scoop up the populace and take them away? Some kind of natural disaster that struck without leaving a trace?

In some maintenance logs from the main power plant, which also ceased to be maintained beyond a certain time frame, B'Elanna chose the final series, and set it up on the main viewer. As Zar took his place with the others around the console, he was aware of the Klingon edging away in order to place the rest of the team between them. Whatever the young woman's problem, it was apparent that she had no interest in overcoming it or fighting it. He wondered if he could approach it as a matter of honor, though he wasn't sure how stringent she adhered to Klingon traditions and cultural mores. Of course, since the Klingons and the Cardassians had been at war not long ago, it was entirely possible that honor was the base of her antipathy, wanting to fight him and forcing herself to hold back. He made a mental note to go over her personnel file as soon as possible, before turning his attention to the log she and the security officer had found.

On the screen, an Ocampa was working at a console within some sort of main control room. It appeared to be a standard routine, some kind of shift worker monitoring the readings which maintained the output of the power plant. It went on long enough that Zar was starting to fidget, about to ask what the engineer's point was, when the worker abruptly altered his behavior. He looked up, almost as if he had heard something, his head tilted curiously. There was an odd expression on his face, a mix of uncertainty and rising trepidation, and then he simply disappeared in a brief flash of light.

Zar blinked, then inhaled slowly. "Good work, Lieutenant," he said, though he noticed that Torres seemed supremely unimpressed by his praise, even slightly resentful of it, totally unlike Tarn. "I think we've found what we've come for. Create a link with Millennium to upload the contents of these memory banks, as well as any others you can find. Perhaps taking a closer look at the recordings in our labs will determine something beyond what we're seeing with the naked eye."

"Already taken care of," B'Elanna said carelessly. "We uploaded the entire contents of the computer banks before you showed up."

Zar shot a look at her, but decided again that this was not the time to take her to task for her presumption. Instead, he nodded and tapped his comm badge. "Away team to Millennium."

"Millennium here," came the response. Nog, Zar recognized from the reedy tones. "Go ahead, Away Team."

"We're done here," he said as the rest of the team, not requiring any further instructions, gathered around him in the traditional transport positions. "Six to beam up."

Janeway regarded her senior officers expectantly as they sat around the large table in the conference room on deck one. On her right, Zar sat in the traditional first officer position, a sight that she was slowly getting used to, still affected by not seeing Chakotay there. On the captain's left was Ro Laren, and beyond her, Torres. Janeway suspected it was no accident that the two officers were presenting a united front as they stared at the exec. Not just a married couple, both women had been members of the Maquis who had fought against Cardassian influence in the Demilitarized Zone, and the captain knew there was still tension there. However, she was waiting to see how Zar handled it before she made any attempt to intervene.

Dr. Pulaski had taken her spot next to Zar, and next to her, Kes looked distant and unhappy, which was understandable considering her entire species seemed to have disappeared. Of course, Janeway wondered if Kes could still be considered an Ocampa, considering all that she had been through. Also present were Nog, and Seven, along with Ensign Tarn, whom Janeway had added at the last moment because she felt it was important for the young woman to gain some administrative experience by sitting in on the meeting.

Looking around at the gathering of her senior officers for what was really the first time, it struck Janeway that she had assembled a predominantly female staff on Millennium, with only two males for balance ... though perhaps she shouldn't find it noteworthy considering how many times she had been in a conference room where she had been the only female rounding out a senior staff that was predominantly male. Certainly, no one had ever taken notice of that. She supposed there was still a slight gender imbalance remaining in Starfleet and the Federation, and within herself as well, since she had made note of it.

However, what was really noticeable was that her senior staff held a larger representation of individuals who weren't Human than was true for most starships in Starfleet. Certainly, there were few vessels which could go so far as to claim a Ferengi and a Cardassian hybrid in its crew roster. Janeway was proud of that fact, though perhaps that sense of pride was, in itself, an indication of her own cultural biases.

"It is obvious that something transported the entire population from the interior of the planet," Zar offered when no one else seemed inclined to speak. "More detailed examinations of the scans indicate that the form of transport utilized the same form of tetryon particles that are associated with the Caretaker entity."

"However, just because we have such circumstantial evidence doesn't mean that it logically follows it was the female Caretaker," Seven responded quickly. "Little is known about these 'caretakers'."

Janeway regarded her first officer and Seven curiously. It was almost as if they were debating their points simply for the sake of the debate, and enjoying it greatly. She supposed it was a holdover from Seven's time with the TPG where scientific debate was extensive and argumentative, and Zar was apparently happy to indulge the Borg.

"The assumption was that there were only the two of their kind remaining in this galaxy," Janeway explained, drawing on memories of her experiences in the Delta Quadrant. "Their people, the Nacene, accidentally devastated the ecosphere of the Ocampa homeworld, and the male Caretaker, along with Suspiria, remained behind to take responsibility for them."

"That was why the Caretaker kept trying to find a mate," Ro offered. "Suspiria wanted nothing to do with him." She paused. "Of course, we only inferred that from what they said. There's no way to verify it."

Janeway pursed her lips. "Apparently, they're noncorporal extragalactic life-forms, existing as pure sporocystian energy traveling through subspace."

"Assuming it was this ... Suspiria," Nog spoke up. "Why would 'she' take them? And where?"

Kes took a deep breath. "The Caretaker was our ... guide, our mentor. It's possible that once Suspiria knew about us, she would have sought us out to protect us as she did her own group of Ocampa. She took them to a subspace domain known as Exosia. It's possible she took my people there as well."

"Then why not do that immediately?" Seven asked. "Didn't she already know of the male caretaker's demise when Voyager ran into her?"

"It might not be this 'Suspiria' at all," Pulaski added dryly. "Like Seven, I'm of the opinion that the evidence is somewhat circumstantial."

"However, it is a logical conclusion," Ro noted. She seemed a little disconcerted that she was agreeing with Zar's position that it was the female caretaker behind the disappearance.

"Uh, what can we do?"

Startled, Janeway glanced down the table at the crimson haired Ops officer who had raised an tentative eyebrow. "Ensign?" she prompted when Tarn seemed disinclined to add to her question.

Tarn blinked, straightening as she realized she was the focus of attention, and looking somewhat regretful of having spoken. "Just that ... well, what can we do even if it does turn out to be this Suspiria?" she asked. "There's no way to trace her, is there?"

Janeway frowned briefly, and glanced at Kes. The counselor looked back, then shook her head minutely. "No," the blonde said softly. "If I were at the height of my abilities, perhaps I could somehow ... track the Ocampa neural signature, but I cannot."

"Certainly, our sensors can't," B'Elanna offered, her first contribution of the meeting.

Janeway dipped her head in acknowledgment of the young woman's point. "You're correct, Ensign, there's little we can do at this point, except to hope we come across some mention of them in our future travels. In the meantime, we have a quadrant to explore." She glanced at Nog. "Lieutenant, set a course in the opposite direction away from the course Voyager plotted eight years ago. According to what we know of this area, that should take us out of the last of Kazon space in only a few days. Otherwise, as happened with Voyager, we'd be traveling through the bulk of it and that takes two years to traverse."

"That will also take us on a heading away from the Alpha Quadrant," Pulaski noted.

"That's the point of being out here, isn't it?" Zar offered.

"Exactly," Janeway said. She took a final glance around. "Let's get to it." The staff rose and began to exit. A quiet "Commander" held Zar back, the first officer sinking back into his chair to regard the captain steadily.

"Yes, Captain?" he asked.

"Anything I need to know about regarding the rest of the staff?" she asked, inviting him to confide in her.

"Nothing I can't handle, Captain," he told her evenly.

She held his gaze for a moment before nodding. If he thought he could overcome the antagonism directed at him that she was sensing from B'Elanna, as well as the continued stiffness from Ro, then it was his prerogative to handle it himself. "Very well," she said. "However, may I make a suggestion?"

He looked at her warily. "Go ahead."

"I suspect a lot of the problem is a visual one," she said. "Do you ever wear the traditional earring of your mother's people? I know it's not protocol to wear jewelry on duty, but as you can tell from my Bajoran crewmembers, I tend to allow a certain laxness in that area because of their cultural importance."

He blinked, surprised, and tilted his head. "That's a good idea," he allowed. "I should have thought of that, Captain. It would be a subtle but telling reminder of my true heritage."

Janeway shrugged lightly. "Glad I could help," she said. "In the meantime, I'd like to know a little more about your away mission. How did Tarn handle herself on the surface?"

"Still a bit uncertain, but she's coming along," he said. "I think it's a matter of confidence. Hers appears to be shaken a little. Honestly, it's not what I expected from someone who was rated so highly at the Academy, as well as winning Athlete of the Year four years running. Usually, that type has to be taken down a peg or two before they can perform well."

Janeway smiled and bent her head a bit bashfully. "That may be my fault," she admitted. "Shortly before Tarn was assigned to my command, she and I had a bit of a confrontation. She was as cocky as you would have imagined, and considered her athletic prowess as something that provided her with a superiority over others. I ... arranged a little footrace between her and our science officer. The cadet didn't realize Seven was Borg."

Understanding dawned in Zar's face, and not a little amusement glinted in his eyes. "Lt. Hansen, of course, defeated Tarn soundly."

"By several meters," Janeway agreed. "It was embarrassing. Then I revealed that the 'civilians' with whom she had been so cavalier were actually senior Starfleet officers ... and well..."

"I can see where she would have taken such a humiliating lesson to heart," Zar said. "Particularly about making unwarranted assumptions about her opponents, as well as how deceptive the belief was that she could handle herself in any situation."

"Perhaps I went a little far, however," Janeway allowed. "Especially if her confidence in herself has been shaken that much. She may think I'm waiting for her to collapse."

"That could be the source of her uncertainty," Zar agreed thoughtfully. "By being placed on the alpha rotation, she may think you're actually trying to push her into failing."

Janeway raised a brow. "Do you think she should be rotated back to the beta or gamma rotation?"

Zar paused, then shook his head. "Let me work with her a little, first," he said. "Rotating her back is always an option that can be utilized as a last resort."

Janeway nodded, pleased with his assessment. "Fine," she said. "In the meantime, you have the conn for the beta shift, Commander. I have a date for dinner with my spouse."

If there was a certain darkness that crossed his eyes at that moment, she didn't notice it as she rose from her chair and briskly headed out of the conference room. Seven, she saw, had already logged off duty and was undoubtedly in their quarters by now, preparing the meal. Janeway considered herself very fortunate to have someone who enjoyed caring for her so much, including making the effort to prepare her favorite dishes.

On deck three, she discovered Seven carrying dishes out to the other room which contained an arboretum, their version of a 'backyard'. Though they had a dining table in the living area where they ate breakfast and the occasional lunch together, the couple had lately developed the habit of eating 'outside' during dinner, enjoying the sense of nature, along with the piped in sound of birds and insects to complement the fresh fragrance of growing greenery.

The captain flashed a smile at her spouse, and went into the bedroom where she changed out of her uniform into off duty clothing comprised of a simple blouse and some pants. Her wedding chain containing an emerald stone, normally unseen beneath her uniform sweater, rested lightly in the hollow of her throat, and caught the light as she joined her spouse in the 'garden', her mouth watering as she saw the selection Seven had chosen for their meal.

"You're too good to me, darling," she noted as she took her seat and lay her napkin across her lap.

"Frequently," Seven agreed.

Janeway smiled and proceeded to dig into the pasta, tomato sauce and chicken. As she ate, she quizzed Seven about her perceptions during her time on the Ocampa homeworld, about the other members of the away team, and about the first officer ... something that the Borg would never have offered in an official capacity. Seven considered such imprecise and intangible information, such as how she 'felt' during her away mission, to be unsuitable to add to a report or share in a meeting. Here, in the sanctity of their home, however, Seven was more willing to reveal the irrelevant details that might indicate something the official reports had missed.

Another aspect to cherish about their relationship, Janeway thought fondly. Being married to such a trusted and keenly observant woman who was willing to confide in Janeway in a manner an ordinary officer wouldn't, Janeway had a finger on the pulse of her ship in a manner that was denied to other starship captains. Of course, if the couple ever had problems in their relationship, that could easily turn out to be a great disadvantage, but Janeway tended not to worry about that. Regardless of what else went on between them, Seven was the consummate professional outside the bulkheads of their quarters.

"I detected some tension from B'Elanna during the meeting," Janeway prodded gently. "Did something happen down there?"

Seven hesitated, reluctant to speak badly of her friend. "I believe she is experiencing the same ... apprehension about Commander Zar that she held regarding my arrival on Voyager."

"I thought as much," Janeway said lightly. "I'm sure she'll come around."

"Yes," Seven said with relief. "Commander Zar will handle it."

Janeway felt the corner of her mouth turn up. "Is that a suggestion for me to stay out of it?"

Seven regarded her for a moment. "Yes," she said finally, making the captain laugh.

"I guess you'll have to keep me too busy to get involved, then," Janeway told her casually.

Seven shot her a look so deeply lascivious that the captain felt her breath catch in her throat, abruptly realizing that her partner was more than in the mood for such a suggestion..

"That can be arranged," the Borg said in a husky tone. "Immediately after dinner if you prefer."

Janeway inhaled slowly, feeling the tingles shoot through her, amazed, as always, at how easily her partner could arouse her with just a word or a look, even after being together for so long.

"I think that would be ... a wonderful idea," she said, swallowing hard, and wondering if she could possibly wait until after dinner.

Janeway arched, head thrown back, her body a perfect bowstring of complete satisfaction as she quivered helplessly from the intensity of her release. Mesmerized, Seven watched a droplet of sweat trickle down the captain's neck, and she lifted herself up, capturing it on her tongue, moving along the trail it had left on the tender throat, up over the chin to the open mouth which she covered in a searing kiss. The two women, sharing each other's breath, sank back down to the bedding in a loving embrace, and the Borg ran her hand over Janeway's back and sides, slick with perspiration as the captain settled onto her with her full weight, unable to support herself on weak arms any longer.

"Oh, darling," the captain whispered breathlessly, nuzzling into the Borg's throat. "I love you for this."

The corner of Seven's mouth turned upward. "Just for this?" she asked lightly as she hugged her.

Janeway laughed throatily, a deep chuckle of sensuality. "Oh, much more than this," she promised. "But for now, this is incredible."

Amused, Seven exhaled and closed her eyes, aware of how much Janeway cherished this permutation on their lovemaking. It was rare that the captain had the chance to penetrate her partner with the small, simulated penile device designated the Mini-Marvel 450™, but because the captain derived such pleasure from it, Seven made a point of including the variation occasionally. Feeling the small hardness lodged within her, the Borg squeezed her internal muscles lightly, granting her partner an erotic massage. Attached to Janeway's clitoris, sensors along the small probe transmitted stimulation to the captain's most sensitive flesh, offering her the sensation of actually being surrounded by Seven's warmth and wetness. Janeway groaned at the intimate pressure, lifting her head to regard her partner, her eyes darkening to blue, passion sparking in them once more.

"Darling?" Janeway said, sounding delighted and somewhat surprised. Aware that this was not her partner's favorite way of making love, she readily accepted and appreciated the offer to prolonge the encounter.

"Do you enjoy it, Kathryn?" the young woman asked coyly.

Janeway made a brief sound of agreement. "Very much," she said immediately. "It feels wonderful to be inside you like this. However, it's important for you to enjoy it, as well."

"I do. I ... it feels good to have you inside me," Seven replied honestly, though it required a certain amount of imagination and fantasizing to make it true. The captain tended to climax more times than did the Borg in such an encounter. Seven was always cognizant of their accessories being artificial, though over time, Seven was finding it easier to be pleasured by the devices. The incentive for her to adapt, of course, was Janeway's enjoyment of it, just as Janeway readily offered intimate caresses to Seven that the captain did not find particularly arousing for herself.

"Be that as it may, I'm still surprised you want to go again."

Seven hesitated. "Actually ... I had a somewhat different approach in mind," she said shyly. "One that I believe shall provide me with more pleasure than this does."

"Different?"

Seven put her lips next to Janeway's ear and explained in a soft voice what she had discovered while browsing a text her friend B'Elanna had suggested. She had acquired the book some time ago, but only recently had Seven taken the opportunity to study it in its entirety. The captain's eyebrow crept up her forehead, and she drew back to study Seven's face.

"Are you sure?" she asked seriously. "You'd be very vulnerable in that ... uh, position. It can also be very painful if it's not done properly."

"I trust you, Kathryn," Seven said somberly. "I know you will be gentle." She paused. "Unless ... you do not wish to ... I know it is not what you might prefer..."

"It's not about that, love," Janeway reassured her. "If it gives you pleasure, then it gives me pleasure. I'm just worried that it might be a bit much for you."

"If it is, then we shall stop," Seven said reasonably.

"Fair enough," Janeway said. She hesitated, tilting her head as she looked down into the Borg's eyes. "Ah ... how did you come up with this?"

Seven blushed. "Research," she said.

"Ah," Janeway remarked ... and smiled.

Seven returned the smile, then her lips parted as Janeway covered her mouth in a tender kiss that rapidly grew more passionate. It felt so good to have the captain's gentle weight bearing down on her, Seven thought muzzily, the sensation of soft curves over her own, the skilled hands that began to stroke her with easy familiarity, something that easily consumed her. Pressing up against the compact form, it was easy to imagine that the hard little presence within her actually belonged to Janeway, was indeed a part of the captain's body, an extension of her intimate flesh inserted into Seven's innermost regions. She almost regretted losing that connection when Janeway slowly withdrew, reaching down to use her hands on the Borg's sensitive folds. Respiration and heart rate increased measurably, the desire and pleasure rising with powerful force within the Borg, and she moaned as Janeway shifted onto her knees, hooking her arms beneath Seven's legs, spreading and lifting them, leaving the young woman open to whatever she might attempt.

The touch of the captain's fingers against her anus made the young woman gasp with pleasure, and she felt one seek entrance, carefully pushing its way past the tight circle. Exhaling a soft sigh of pleasure, she spread her legs wider as Janeway moved deeper inside, touching her in areas that no one else ever would, while brushing over the Borg's tender nodule with her thumb, manipulating it in a circular motion. Eventually, a second finger joined the first, filling Seven ... readying her for what would come, probing and turning to loosen the passage. As she continued to flex inside the Borg, Janeway used her other hand to fumble for the jar of lubricant which stood open on the night stand, retrieving some of the silky gel and slathering it over the device she wore. Removing her fingers, she moved over her, the firm head of the probe pressing cautiously against Seven's rear channel, the orifice grudgingly giving way to the gentle pressure. Abruptly, it was inside, invading her as the captain thrust slowly and carefully into her. Though it was supposedly the same size as the fingers had been, it felt much larger and more intrusive. There was a slight pain, but not enough for Seven to ask her spouse to stop.

Nonetheless, Janeway did, breathing heavily as she looked down at Seven, bracing herself on her forearms which cradled the Borg's legs.

"Are you all right, darling?" she asked.

"Yes," Seven moaned, arching beneath her. "Please, Kathryn..."

Janeway swallowed hard, her throat moving visibly, then pushed deeper inside until she was completely buried in her spouse. "Oh, my," she said with an expulsion of breath and an acknowledgment of her own desire and pleasure.

"Is it good, Kathryn?" Seven asked as she wrapped herself around her lover's body, pulling her close.

"Oh, yes," Janeway said, not moving as she savored the sensation. "It's ... different ... a little more textured somehow, and more confining." She managed a smile. "That's saying something with you. I think the muscles must be more powerful."

"I cannot ... control them as easily," Seven admitted, feeling herself flex involuntarily around the hardness, adjusting to its presence and making the captain exhale audibly.

"Is it enough to ... satisfy you?" Janeway whispered shakily into the Borg's ear.

Seven considered that, enjoying the sensation, finding it incredibly intimate, but not quite stimulating enough by itself. "Perhaps you could..." she breathed uncertainly. "Can you touch my clitoris..."

The captain shifted position slightly, rising to put her weight on her left arm as with her right, she reached down between their bodies and caressed Seven lavishly, her fingertips firm in the moisture, manipulating the hard little nodule. The sensation shot through Seven in a rush of pleasure.

"God, you're so wet," Janeway informed her.

"This feels ... it's wonderful, Kathryn," Seven responded, feeling as if her heart might actually pound its way out of her chest.

"Do you want me to move?" the captain asked, pressing deeper with the probe.

"No," Seven requested huskily. "Just ... continue to touch me."

Janeway raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything else, merely fondling her relentlessly, and before long, Seven was swept up in her pleasure, crying out softly as it shivered through her. Janeway cried out as well, though she sounded a little less enthusiastic.

"Yow!" she managed through clenched teeth, "That's really ... tight!"  She continued to caress the Borg, however, sending her into another level of delight, making her peak again.

Finally, slowly, Seven relaxed, the tremors of her orgasms still rippling through her as Janeway held her, kissing her sweetly. After several moments, the captain carefully withdrew, finding it more difficult than either of them had anticipated, and rolled over onto her back to detach the probe, before reaching up and placing it in the convenient compartment embedded in the headboard of their bed, the panel sliding shut with a soft hiss. Fumbling at the control pad, Seven activated it, and there was a brief glow and hum from within as the device was cleaned for the next use ... yet another convenient invention of the Ferengi who rarely missed an opportunity for profit. Janeway drew the blankets up around them, then gathered Seven up in her arms, holding the Borg tightly.

"Was it good?" she asked, her tone indulgent as she looked down at her with a smile.

"Oh, yes," Seven admitted happily, still throbbing pleasantly. "Thank you, Kathryn."

"Anytime, my love," Janeway said. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."  She tilted her head.  "Any soreness?"

Seven wiggled experimentally.  "No," she decided finally.  "You were very gentle."  She glanced over at her and raised an eyebrow.  "Did you enjoy it, Kathryn?"

Janeway hesitated. "It was a bit ... awkward, but that's always to be expected when trying something for the first time," she allowed. "I was a little uncomfortable near the end. You can squeeze very hard in that area, love."

Seven peered anxiously at her. "Did I hurt you?" she asked.

Janeway chuckled lightly. "Not really," she said. "It was just very intense." She nuzzled Seven gently, reaching down to cup her mound tenderly, possessively, her fingers brushing over the sensitive ridge, which made the Borg twitch involuntarily. "However, the pleasure I saw you experience was incredible, love. I can't wait to please you like that again."

Seven reached down to cover the hand, holding it against her as she relaxed, feeling the touch resonate through her. She knew her partner would not say such a thing unless she meant it. There was a give and take in their relationship on so many levels, the young woman mused silently, a balance achieved that came from mutual love and respect. Compromise and the willingness to explore different areas within their lovemaking was only a small part of their life together.

"Hmm, what are you thinking?" Janeway murmured, brushing her lips lightly along Seven's jaw, regarding her with a lidded gaze as she pressed against the young woman's body.

"Random thoughts," Seven admitted quietly. "Nothing specific."

Soft blue eyes considered that, then Janeway reached over and kissed her gently, sweetly, her lips tender. "I love you so much," she whispered.

Seven smiled. "I love you," she responded quietly. "Beyond love."

Janeway returned the smile, then dropped her head to the larger woman's shoulder, nestling her face into the hollow of Seven's neck. The Borg drew her closer, her arm snug around the captain's torso as the couple settled down for the night. Seven could feel the soft rush of her breath across her upper chest, the warmth of her body a comfort to her, and she was glad that she had taken the opportunity to seduce her partner after dinner. It had come to her attention recently that Janeway liked it when her partner was the aggressor at times, that she made an effort to show how much she wanted and needed her physically. The Borg vowed to do more of it, particularly since it led to such interesting and fulfilling explorations with her spouse.

"Annika?"

"Yes, Kathryn?"

"Pleasant dreams."

"To you, as well," Seven said fondly. "Good night, my Kathryn."

"'Night, love."

Silence descended, a smoothing out of their respiration as both women settled against the mattress in delicious languor and satisfaction. The sudden jolt that shook them in their bed less than twenty minutes later, and the strident sound of a red alert ringing through the ship, was a most unpleasant way to surface from such a deliciously dreamy state. Biting off a litany of curses, the captain struggled out of the linens, followed closely by the Borg.

The only good thing about it, Seven decided as they hastily pulled on their uniforms, was that it had not occurred earlier in the evening when both women would have encountered more difficulty in disengaging quickly from each other.

"Tom?" she said.

Somehow, she must have sensed his arrival, he thought. Most people had assumed she had lost all her abilities when her Kes form merged with her holographic Sek form, but over the past year, they seemed to have returned, if only in a limited fashion. At least, that had been his conclusion after serving with her on the Enterprise-E.

"Hi," he said quietly. "I thought you might like some company." He half turned. "I can go, if you'd like. I don't want to disturb you."

"No," she said quickly, reaching out to put her hand on his forearm. The touch was gentle, inviting, and he couldn't resist the smile that appeared on her lips, feeling it warm him all the way through. "Come in."

Moving into the quarters, which were decorated in cool blues and aquas, he noticed the furniture utilized lines that evoked a sense of peace and calm, just as Kes did. He glanced at her surreptitiously as she went over to a counter along one bulkhead where bottles and glasses rested next to a replicator.

"Drink?" she asked.

"A fruit juice," he said. He had given up the harder stuff recently, including synthehol, discovering that it did little to make him feel better, and quite frequently, made him feel worse.

She apparently already had some juice chilled, pouring the golden liquid from a frosted pitcher into two tall glasses, bringing them over to where he had taken a seat on the sofa. She sat next to him, sipping her drink and regarding him expectantly. "How can I help, Tom?" she asked in her melodious tones.

"Actually, I came by to see if I could help you," he admitted. "I know that encountering your homeworld like that must have been very difficult. Did you want to talk about it?"

She blinked, looking surprised. "I ... I suppose I hadn't really thought about it," she admitted quietly. "Talking to someone, I mean."

"It seems to me that everyone comes to you whenever they have a problem," he ventured. "Whom do you turn to? I'm here as your friend, Kes. I'm more than willing to listen to whatever you might want to talk about."

"Thank you, Tom," she said. "That means a lot." She exhaled and leaned back against the couch, her eyes distant. "I guess I was putting it aside, not wanting to think about what it meant to have all my people missing, because once I started, then I'd realize I'm all alone now."

"You're not alone, Kes," he corrected her gently. "That's the absolute last thing you are."

She glanced at him, obviously touched by the words, but still somber. "I know that," she said. "But it's not the same. My people are gone, I have no idea where they are or what happened to them ... or even if they're still alive. When I decided to accompany Voyager on its journey back to the Alpha Quadrant, I always believed I would one day return home. Part of the reason I joined Millennium was the chance to see my people again."

"We may find them," Tom said encouragingly. "We'll be out here for awhile, and if I know the captain, she'll be searching for clues to their whereabouts the entire time we're exploring the sector."

Kes nodded, but she didn't say anything. It was obvious that she was still disturbed, and for a moment, Tom mentally debated putting his arm around her. It would only be a gesture of friendship, but he knew his reputation was such that it could easily be misconstrued. On the other hand, he decided, Kes would be the one person on the ship who would recognize it for what it truly was, and not be offended by it.

Deciding that it was worth the risk, he slipped his arm around her shoulders, and to his relief, she merely sighed softly and settled back against it. They sat in companionable silence for awhile, sipping their drinks and contemplating the low illumination of Kes's quarters. Tom could not remember feeling so comfortable with another woman, and he remembered how attracted he had been to her when he first met her all those years ago on Voyager. At the time, the young woman had been involved with Neelix, and while he might have considered that an unsuitable match, he never would make a move on Kes. When the relationship between the Talaxian and her ended, he was involved with B'Elanna. By the time that had broken up, Kes was gone, evolved into a higher plane of existence. When she returned, it hadn't been long before the ship was suddenly back in the Alpha Quadrant.

The pair, along with Neelix, had deepened their friendship while serving on the Enterprise-E, the three of them tending to socialize as a trio, perhaps because their experiences on Voyager had unified them in a unique way. However, Neelix had chosen to remain on the flagship while Kes and Tom accepted the posting on the Millennium. Tom was glad to be back with the people with whom he had shared his incredible journey, and even more pleased that Kes had come with him, both officers finding their new roles on the vessel vastly challenging.

"Have you finished assigning your pilots?" Kes asked after a bit, turning her head to regard him quizzically.

"I've made up the squadrons," he said. "We've gone through countless scenarios, we've run hundreds of hangar drills ... all that remains is to see how they shake down in an actual mission." He paused, smiling at her. "However, I came over so that you could talk about what's going on with you, not to discuss my problems on the flight deck. We can do that any time."

She smiled faintly, then blushed. "I think it's the counselor in me," she admitted. "It's easier to prompt other people to discuss their concerns rather than talking about my own." She took another sip from her glass. "I guess I don't know what I'm really feeling, Tom. It was so odd being down there, walking the streets where I grew up and seeing no one around, as if everyone had died. This was worse because they were just gone. I know that the captain and others feel that Suspiria came and took them away to a safer location, but that's just speculation. There could be a more sinister reason for their disappearance."

"That's possible," Tom said. "However, who would want to be rid of the Ocampa ... besides the Kazon on the planet?"

Kes shrugged, a little helplessly. "I don't know," she said. "I don't believe it was the Kazon. The technology used was far more advanced than what they have. Besides, if they were responsible, they would have moved into the area."

"They'd be a lot messier as well," Tom agreed, thinking about the species which inhabited this area of space. Originally the most culturally and technologically advanced people in this part of the galaxy, the Kazon had been conquered by the Trabe. Their conquerers had encouraged tribalism in their captives for decades, encouraging the various sects to fight among themselves, and making them easier to control. However, the Kazon briefly united to overthrow the Trabe, and regained the space going technology, though they were but a shadow of their original glory, no longer having the training, education or scientific knowledge to do more than merely use the ships and technology as tools. The competing tribes were very territorial, while the order of importance between the various sect holdings changed daily, making it unlikely that they would return to a true power.

In truth, Tom didn't even know if the Kazon were still traveling the area. When Voyager finally left their territory after two years of conflict and antagonism, the Trabe appeared to be making a come back. Without a central ruling body to keep the various Kazon factions from each other's throats, it was entirely possible that things had become worse for the warrior people whom Tom had always considered to be a less polished version of the Klingons, lacking the glory and honor of the Alpha Quadrant species.

He remembered the first time he had seen them, how the pitiful and ragged band of settlers on the planet's surface had been in direct contrast to the gentle and refined Ocampa. A sect had taken Kes captive, and the first time he had seen her, she had been bruised and battered, but still maintained the beauty and dignity she carried to this day. They had both been through a lot since then, and as he glanced over at her, he wondered if they would have the opportunity to nurture the friendship between them into something more. It had been something Tom was considering seriously as time passed, but as of yet, he did not have the courage to suggest it to her.

However, he wasn't getting any younger, he decided, and it didn't make sense to hold back forever. They were both single at the moment, and of all the people on the ship, she was the one who seemed to believe in him the most. Turning toward her, studying her elven profile with appreciation, he set aside his doubts. However, as he opened his mouth to speak, there was a subtle jolt to the vessel, almost as if it had hit something, and immediately afterward, the so