Just Between Influences
G. L. Dartt

The door to the office slid open, and the dark-haired woman glanced up to see the Doctor enter her office, his expression one of vague impatience and annoyance. However, since that seemed to be the hologram's permanently programmed expression, Samantha didn't take it too seriously. Instead, she put down the padd she had been perusing, and leaned back in the dark leather chair that used to belong to her great-grandfather, the infamous Samuel T. Cogley, Attorney-at-Law.

"Well, you're punctual, I'll give you that," she said, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him. "Come in, Doctor. Have a seat ... you are allowed on chairs, aren't you?" He hadn't sat down the last time he'd been in her office on her homeworld, spending all his time pacing and waving his arms as he told her all about the perfidy of Starfleet Medical, and she was suddenly struck by the thought that perhaps his programming didn't allow for something like sitting.

This was the first time that she had found herself defending a hologram, an EMH program that had once been standard issue on Starfleet vessels, and the more she knew about him, the better prepared she would be. It would certainly be an interesting case. Holograms, in the 24th Century, were not considered viable lifeforms anywhere within the Federation of Planets, which would make this a precedent setting case, and could possibly establish her as one of the best in the legal profession for the rest of her career ... assuming she won, of course.

He looked offended, which seemed to be his other main facial expression. "Of course, I'm allowed on the furniture," he said acerbically. "I'm a hologram, not a dog."

"Just checking," she said cheerfully.

He exhaled audibly as he took his seat and glared at her from beneath shaggy dark brows, his eyes deeply penetrating. "I'm developing the impression that you don't believe I'm sentient."

She shrugged. "It's not important what I believe," she told him honestly. "It's what I have to make the judiciary council believe."

He suddenly looked bewildered, and she filed that away as a new expression that she would suggest he use whenever he could throughout the trial. It made him look ... well, Human, and the perception of the individuals on the Starfleet board could hold a significant amount of sway in the final outcome of the upcoming hearing.

"If you don't believe I'm sentient, how can you prove it under the law?" he asked in a baffled tone.

She passed over the padd. "Thanks to Captain Janeway, and her little report declaring your sentience, I may not have to. It wasn't a particularly well thought out legal document, which is why we're headed for this hearing, but it was initially accepted by Starfleet on an official basis in your specific case, which will give us a bit of an advantage going in. It falls on opposing counsel to disprove your sentience ... and fortunately, disproving something is always more difficult than proving it, particularly when reasonable doubt is involved."

"Could they prove it?"

She smiled. "They must think they can or they would have settled it before now." She paused. "Tell me, Doctor, it's my understanding that after Voyager returned from the Delta Quadrant, Starfleet immediately accorded all the crewmembers seven years of back credit. Did that include you?"

He frowned. "There was an account set up for me with the Federation's bank, but they didn't continue to deposit credits after the initial settlement." He shrugged. "Of course, I have no need of credit. It's not as if I eat or sleep." He lifted his left arm slightly to display the small device strapped to it. "When I shut down my program for regular periods of maintenance and recharging, I don't really require much energy, only what my mobile emitter demands to maintain its power levels, and it can actually draw that from solar emissions."

"I see," she said, filing that away. Starfleet Medical, who was the plaintiff in this case, would probably contend that since the hologram's continued existence depended on a mechanical device to sustain his matrix, he was therefore not a viable lifeform. Fortunately, she could counter that by pointing out the various citizens of the Federation who were walking around with artificial organs in their bodies, without which, they would have quickly died.

"But they did set up the account for you, just the same as they did for ... say, the Maquis," she continued, getting back to her initial point.

"Is that important?"

"It indicates that Starfleet Operations considered you a full member of Voyager's crew, and only changed their minds after Starfleet Medical got to them. Is the account still open?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I haven't spent any of the initial funds, and Dr. Zimmerman has also been transferring credits as payment for my assistance in his holographic research. I didn't want to accept, but he insisted he needed to do it for the sake of his own paperwork."

Sam smiled. Good old Dr. Zimmerman. The programmer of the EMH was obviously very interested in his creation, and making her job a little easier. She had met the man several times in his lab on Jupiter Station during her preliminary research into the case, deciding that he was a completely lecherous reprobate, but that he was also doing his best to protect his 'offspring'. Certainly, it was his loudly stated belief that Starfleet Medical was attempting to destroy his 'creation', and had offered several reasons why. Since he was the one paying the bills, including putting her up on Earth and providing an office, it was incumbent upon her to listen to him.

"That also works to our advantage," she advised. "It means that whatever Starfleet and others might believe, the Federation Bank of Commerce obviously considers you a sentient enough lifeform to utilize their institution."

He blinked. "I didn't think of that."

"You'd better start. We'll need every scrap of evidence we can muster to counter whatever the opposing counsel puts forward. Everyone's in agreement that you're a hologram. What's at stake here is: have you developed sentience, and what rights must be accorded to you in that event? Or are you just a complicated computer program that's gotten a bit out of hand?"

"I don't understand why Starfleet Medical is doing this," he said, sounding wounded.

She raised a thin eyebrow. "Your ... sponsor ... thinks it's obvious. Dr. Zimmerman believes that they consider you a threat to their branch of Starfleet Command."

He blinked. "In what way?"

"You've served as the Chief Medical Officer on a starship for several years," Sam pointed out patiently. "Quite successfully, I might add."

"Shouldn't that please them? They were the ones who implemented the project of the EMH in the first place."

"Not when your success indicates that your type of program could easily replace the medical staff on other ships," Sam reminded him. "No one likes to think they can be replaced by a technological construct. They appear to be afraid that Starfleet will start using holograms to replace all their medical staff, and it's only a short leap in logic from that, to assuming civilian medical facilities would start doing the same. Why take the time and expense to train someone to do it when a facility can purchase a hologram that can and will perform just as well? Not to mention the fact that such a device would never have to go off duty, would never tire, and wouldn't cost them anything beyond the meager power expenditure. It's not just Starfleet you threaten, but possibly the Federation's entire medical profession. The FMA is not prepared to let that happen."

The Doctor paused, frowning with frustration. "But it isn't like that. I wasn't designed to replace the medical staff on a starship, I was only a supplement. What happened to me was purely accidental, as a result of being continually activated for seven years."

"That's the irony here. Yours is a unique situation, a combination of many events and incidents which occurred over the course of seven years ... circumstances that would be practically impossible to reproduce. Starfleet Medical is actually their own worst enemy at this point. If they had just recognized that it was in their best interest to accord you ... as an individual ... sentient status, and leave the whole hologram question alone, this wouldn't be turning into what it's turning into. According to Dr. Zimmerman, they apparently want to get rid of the problem altogether, and to do that, they need you to be officially declared Starfleet property, which allows them to do whatever they want with you."

"Can't we explain that to them?"

"Believe me, I've tried," Sam said, sighing slightly. "Unfortunately, their attorneys seem stuck on the whole 'holograms can't be real people' issue. Starfleet Medical is running scared, and scared people are stupid people ... who do stupid things, like build this into a huge sentience rights case. The holographic industry, meanwhile, has gotten involved as 'observers', and while they would love for me to prove that you could competently replace doctors ... or whatever ... because it would mean an increase of business for them in fields that they didn't really exploit before, they don't want me to prove that you're actually a sentient being. That would mean significant changes in how the holographic entertainment industry does business ... particularly when it comes to the intricacies of their programming. Believe me, the Sentient Being Advocacy is keeping a close eye on this one."

"Why?" he asked blankly, looking somewhat confused at this point.

"I told them to," she remarked brightly. She inhaled and leaned forward, linking her fingers and resting them on the desk. "Tell me, Doctor, do you believe you were sentient when you were first activated for duty on Voyager?"

The Doctor looked thoughtful. Another good expression, Sam thought. He really was quite ... accurate in his mannerisms, far more than the android who had won his rights as a sentient being several years earlier. Sam had been only a teenager then, but she had studied the case extensively, intending to use it as precedent in this hearing. Lt. Commander Data, along with other crewmembers of the USS Enterprise who had once served with the Doctor, were on their way back to Earth to serve as witnesses during the hearing. She made a note in her padd to contact the android as soon as he landed to prepare his testimony.

"I don't think so," the Doctor admitted finally. "But then, I'm not sure when the awareness came to me that I was more than just a program." He looked stricken. "I'm sorry."

"No, that's fine." She reached over to pat him on the hand, not even aware that was what she was doing. "Actually, it's better for it to have been a gradual process, than if there was one significant moment in your existence that you could point to and say, 'that's when I became sentient'. That would allow the opposing counsel to concentrate on it in order to discredit it. It will be far more difficult for them to prove that you didn't achieve sentience as a result of several varied influences over the course of time."

He looked considerably cheered by that, and she discovered she was somewhat pleased she was able to offer him encouragement. Perhaps he was right, she decided. Perhaps it was important that she herself believe that he was sentient.

"What if the burden somehow falls on you?"

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"You keep saying that it's up to them to prove holograms can't be sentient. What if you're wrong, and the declaration of the captain's is dismissed as inadmissable? What if you then have to prove that holograms can be sentient?"

She exhaled slowly. "That's not my job," she told him in a reasonable tone. "Doctor, let's make one thing perfectly clear here; we don't want to prove that holograms can be sentient ... that's irrelevant. We're going to prove that you became sentient. Don't confuse the issue here ... that's what Starfleet Medical and the holographic industry is doing. We have to show them that regardless of what other holograms may or may not be capable of, you are a fully sentient being, an individual who must have the same rights as any other Federation citizen, including the right to practice medicine as you are qualified to do."

"If any other hologram wants me to prove their sentience, they can damned well come up with the credits and hire me themselves."

Seven of Nine opened her eyes, wondering why the computer had not announced the time to begin her morning before she remembered with a deep pleasure that this was 'Saturday', the beginning of her 'weekend'. It had not taken many months for the young woman to grasp the concept of the 'weekend', even though she had spent most of her life, from the age of six, as a drone in the Borg Collective where such things were unknown. Even while on the starship Voyager, lost in the Delta Quadrant for seven years, Seven had rarely spent two off-duty days in a row, and certainly not on the regular basis she was experiencing now.

Shortly after returning to the Alpha Quadrant, Seven had accepted an assignment as an alternative propulsion specialist with the Theoretical Propulsion Group, working in their facility based on Mars, close to the primary colony on the red planet. Working with the many enthusiastic and energetic scientists in the group, who were more than a match for the young woman's brilliance and focus, Seven found herself inspired to imitate their dedication as they pursued theoretical breakthroughs in transwarp and subspace research. It was an unusual evening when the young woman was able to make it home before 10:00, inevitably missing dinner, and often having to go straight to bed, rising the next morning eager to tackle her next project. She had never been so intellectually challenged or stimulated before, and she had discovered she loved it intensely ... almost as much as she loved her spouse.

Of course, Seven's spouse, Kathryn Janeway, would have undoubtedly been outraged by the Borg's regular absences through the week, were it not for the fact that the older woman was also working long hours in her new position as commander of the Utopia Planitia shipyards, an interim tour of duty while Janeway awaited the preparation of her next command, the Frontier-class USS Millennium. Janeway was taking a very special interest in every detail of the new vessel, and as a result, she was as consumed by her new job as Seven was with hers. It was not uncommon for the two women to avoid speaking beyond the most superficial pleasantries throughout the week as they encountered each other only in the early mornings and late in the evenings.

But on the weekends ... that was when both women did their best to catch up and be a couple again.

Seven sighed softly, feeling the soothing warmth of her partner wrapped around her from behind, the pair tucked cozily into the center of their large bed. The soft rush of Janeway's breath whispered warm over the back of the young woman's neck, and the captain's arm was draped heavily over Seven's torso, their legs entangled pleasantly.

Hearing the soft rumble of Janeway's elegant snores against her spine, Seven closed her eyes, suspecting that her partner would be asleep for awhile. As the Borg lay there in languid contentment, she wondered how they would spend the upcoming two days. Perhaps they would visit Indiana where Kathryn's mother and sister lived, reaffirming family ties that also included Seven in their warmth and strength ... or perhaps they would utilize the large public transporters, and explore another part of the captain's homeworld, one that the Borg had yet to see, and that Janeway believed would benefit the young woman, such as the Pyramids of Giza or the Great Wall of China. Of course, there was always the opportunity to remain in San Francisco, enjoying each other's company within the sheltered confines of their cozy home, making love for hours on end, or walking around the city as they spent quality time with their dog. The contemplation of all these wonderful possibilities caused Seven to slide back into a state of warm drowsiness, smiling faintly as she drifted back to sleep.

Roused by the stirring of her partner some undetermined time later, Seven opened her eyes. "Kathryn?" she whispered, in a barely audible voice.

"Hmm," came the sleepy mumble from behind her, the captain tightening her embrace, pressing against Seven's back.

"Are you awake?"

"Barely," came the throaty mutter.

Seven smiled, and rolled over as Janeway shifted, easing the young woman's passage. As soon as the Borg was settled, the captain snuggled up against her side, resting her head on Seven's left shoulder. Wrapping her arm snugly about the captain's body, Seven pulled her closer, resting her cheek against the rich auburn hair.

"I love waking up next to you," the captain murmured.

Seven brushed her lips over the smooth forehead. "Not as much as I love waking up with you."

Janeway smiled, pleased, and placed her palm on the young woman's chest, where the Borg's heart beat in steady rhythm. "What would you like to do today?" Pressing her face into Seven's neck, she kissed it gently.

"We have many options," Seven allowed, lifting her head as she felt the tender lips trail over her throat. "One apparently has priority in your mind at the moment."

"Oh, but we can make love any time, darling," Janeway offered teasingly, though she did not stop her gentle nuzzling of the Borg's soft skin.

"Not any time." Seven inhaled slowly as she thought about it. "We have not made love since last weekend."

"So we haven't," Janeway replied, a hint of surprise in her tone. Seven was not entirely sure if it was sincere or not. "We'll have to remedy that oversight immediately."

"Kathryn, are we working too hard?"

The question made the amorous captain stop her caresses, and she rose up on her elbow so she could look down at her partner. Curiously, Seven studied the bluish-grey eyes, soft in the early morning illumination.

"Do you think we are?" Janeway asked reasonably.

"When I am at the TPG facility, I do not notice the time passing by." Seven tried to put her concerns into a comprehensive form so that there would be no confusion or misunderstanding. "I truly enjoy what I am doing, and even when I do not return home until very late, I am always enthusiastic about what I will be doing the next day. But I am trying to remember if we have had the chance to speak of anything significant to each other since last Sunday evening, and I cannot. Therefore, I must conclude that we are not able to share important moments throughout the week ... only on the weekend."

Janeway raised an eyebrow, her face thoughtful as she considered that. "This disturbs you?"

"I am not sure." Seven paused. "Kathryn, you told me that one of the things your mother most regrets in her relationship with your father is that they let time slip away from them. Is it possible that we are doing the same thing?"

"We make plenty of time for each other every weekend, darling," Janeway pointed out. "I haven't felt neglected ... have you?"

"No, but while the weekends are sufficient for us, they are not sufficient for everything, we barely have time to attend to Jake's requirements."

She thought about the couple's pet Irish Setter, and realized that she was perhaps being generous regarding the attention they had accorded him lately. Taking Jake on their early morning runs every morning was usually the only time spent with him throughout the week. Concerned, Seven reached up and touched the captain's cheek lightly with her fingertips, her brow furrowed as she considered the routine they had slipped into since accepting their new positions.

"We certainly do not have time for children."

Janeway's expression turned serious as she pulled away from her partner and sat up, apparently realizing this could be a lengthy discussion. Fluffing up the pillows, she stacked them at the head of the bed so she could lean back against them. Seven followed suit, folding her hands neatly on her lap on top of the blanket as she regarded her partner.

"We did agree that this time on Earth was going to be about starting our family," Janeway said somberly, as she gave this problem her full attention. "There's no question that we'll have to lighten our schedule a great deal to carry that out. I'm starting to slow down at the shipyards, so I could probably become pregnant immediately ... and by the time I become clumsy, I'll have things completely under control with my preparation for assuming command of the Millennium."

Seven frowned. "Actually, Kathryn..." she began before trailing off uncertainly. She found the next words difficult to say, and discovered herself staring at her hands. "I find I have less ... need for children in my life at the moment. I no longer feel the same about extending our family unit as I did while on Voyager."

She realized she had surprised Janeway profoundly, but then, she had surprised herself over the past few days as she came to the realization that perhaps she was not ready for children, or even for Janeway to become pregnant. An event of such magnitude would require a great deal of her attention ... attention that she was simply not prepared to grant during this new and exciting stage of her life.

"I ... see," Janeway said finally, after a stunned silence. "Have you been thinking about this long?"

"For the past week," Seven admitted. She hesitated, and then added in a rush, "I enjoy my duties at the TPG, Kathryn, in a way that I did not while serving on Voyager. They are intriguing and exciting to me in so many ways, and there is so much for me to learn from the people I work with. I wish to explore this new challenge fully, but I cannot if we are preparing to start a family."

Janeway regarded her, her face thoughtful. "You're right. When you do something, darling, you put your whole focus on it, and while you might be able to find room in your life for your duties and me at the moment ... you probably can't find room for your duties, me and babies. Something would have to give, and it would probably be your position with the TPG. My duties at Utopia Planitia offer far more allowance for family. Now that I have things running the way I want, the number of hours I'm working during the week have started to decrease dramatically. The TPG, in contrast, are constantly going ahead with new projects involving time and space, each one presenting a different challenge to the abilities of the scientists stationed there. That's what makes the TPG one of the finer scientific facilities in the Federation, not merely a warp propulsion lab."

Seven felt extremely distressed. "Is this wrong, Kathryn? I do not understand why I no longer desire offspring..."

Janeway reached over and took the Borg's hand, holding it tightly. "It's all right, Annika," she soothed. "You're only 26 years old, and for the first time in your life, you're making your own way professionally, as well as adapting to Federation society. It's a wonderful, exciting time, and you're suddenly being fulfilled in ways that you hadn't expected. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. There are a lot of things in your life that you haven't had the chance to experience until now, and it's perfectly understandable that you would want to explore them fully before occupying yourself with a family."

"But, Kathryn, this may be our only opportunity..." Seven began helplessly.

"Not at all," Janeway said firmly. She paused. "Darling, I can have children any time, and the Millennium is designed for families of all types, which is part of the reason I accepted it. Or, if you feel that you want to stay with the TPG longer than we initially anticipated, then I'm fully prepared to ask for Voyager back. Staying in the Federation, and taking on Scout-type missions, should keep me close to home ... assuming I don't get lost in the Delta Quadrant, again." She said this last with gentle good humor, obviously wanting to ease her partner's distress.

Seven offered a look of mingled tenderness and gratitude to her spouse. She knew how pleased and flattered Janeway had been by being offered Starfleet's prized vessel, truly excited about the chance to command it; yet, without so much as a flicker in expression, the captain was prepared to discard the opportunity, simply for the Borg's benefit. Bringing Janeway's hand up to her lips, Seven kissed the inside of her wrist gently.

"I will not let you give up the Millennium," she promised softly. "Are you certain, Kathryn? I know you also want children..."

"I want us to start a family when we're both ready to have children," the captain said firmly. "Annika..." She began, stopped, searching for the words. "Darling, you need this time to discover all the things about yourself that you need to discover. Ignoring that for the sake of starting a family wouldn't be fair to you, and it certainly wouldn't be fair to any children we might have. You can't jump into parenthood before you're ready, even if you thought you might have been before. There's no law against changing your mind, particularly if you've discovered new influences on your life." She raised an eyebrow, a small curve edging the corner of her mouth. "I think I saw this coming."

"You did?" Seven appeared highly skeptical.

Janeway held her gaze, then grinned slightly and looked away. "Well, maybe not about the children exactly, but I did know you would have many opportunities to grow as an individual once we returned." She settled back against the pillows and exhaled audibly. "Darling, on Voyager, you were somewhat limited in how you could apply your vast abilities, so perhaps you were searching for fulfillment in other ways, which having children would have granted. Now that we're back in the Alpha Quadrant, there are just so many avenues opening up for you, so many things that you can experience as a scientist and a Starfleet officer ... it's natural for you to want to try those things first. Believe me, our having a family will happen in its own way and in its own time."

"I thought you said it was important to plan these things," Seven reminded her.

"We are planning these things," Janeway pointed out dryly. "Right now, we're planning to wait a little longer."

Seven swallowed hard against the emotion suddenly filling her throat. She leaned over and rested her head on the captain's shoulder. "Thank you, Kathryn."

She felt Janeway's arm wrap around her shoulders warmly, the captain's lips brushing over the top of her head. "For what?"

"For understanding," Seven replied softly. "Even when I do not entirely understand myself."

"I just want you to be happy, love," Janeway murmured. "Believe me, bringing children into our lives is a big step, and if you're not sure that this is the right time, then you're very wise to acknowledge your doubts and share them with me."

"I do not feel wise," Seven muttered, hugging Janeway tightly.

"Perhaps not," Janeway allowed softly. "But trust me, you are." She paused, kissing the young woman again. "So, that's one significant discussion out of the way, and we haven't even had breakfast yet. I think we're managing quite well for only having the weekends to do this sort of thing. Is there anything else you want to talk about?"

"I do not believe so," Seven responded, smiling faintly. She lifted her head. "I will point out, however, that the 'significant discussion' interrupted something else which we only seem to have time for on the weekend."

Janeway smiled. "Hmm, I believe you're right," she said, bending closer to brush her lips over Seven's, kissing her sweetly. "Thank you for pointing that out."

"Now you're being very wise."

Two weekends after her discussion with Seven over the possibility of their having children ... or not, in this case ... Janeway pried the stick out of Jake's mouth, as they wrestled around on the grass, and considered the fact that her partner had been absolutely correct over how busy their lives had become since returning to Earth. The past months had gone by almost without the captain noticing, and it shocked her to realize that she couldn't remember the last time she had played 'fetch' with her dog. She grunted in triumph when she finally freed the branch from the playful animal's jaws, and promptly flung it across the length of the backyard, directly into the hedges lining the tall, redwood fence. Delighted, the Irish Setter sprang to his feet and dashed across the lawn to nose anxiously about the thick bushes, looking for the prize so he could carry it back to his mistress.

It was bad enough that they ignored their pet this way, Janeway thought sadly. It would be completely unacceptable to consider treating a child in a similar fashion. It was a relief that Seven had brought it up before the captain had to ... or worse, if they had gone ahead with Janeway's pregnancy, determined to do everything according to 'plan' only to discover, after the fact, that it wasn't the right time after all.

"Kathryn?"

Janeway lifted her head, looking over at her partner who was pulling the barbeque out onto the back deck. Grilling outside was a new form of cooking for the young woman, and she had taken to it with ease, the couple preparing and eating their meals outside whenever the weather was pleasant. This Saturday afternoon in San Francisco was absolutely beautiful, and so was the vision of the captain's spouse. Seven was dressed in a t-shirt that enhanced, rather than obscured her chest, and a pair of shorts that showed off the entire length of her golden legs. Her blonde hair was almost white in the sunshine, and the ice-blue eyes were brilliant as she concentrated on her task.

"Yes, love?" Janeway responded, immediately heading for the deck. She gestured for Jake to follow her, and leaving the stick where it was for the moment, he accompanied her back to the house. "Isn't it a little early to start supper?"

"Ro and B'Elanna are coming for dinner this evening," Seven responded. "I wish to make preparations now so that I will have time to visit with them before I begin to cook." She paused, then offered her partner a bashful look. "They will be here, shortly."

"I know." Janeway regarded her partner curiously. Obviously, there was something else going on here that Seven didn't think Janeway knew about. Looking through the open french doors into the dining area, the captain checked the chronometer on the same antique grandfather clock that had been in her quarters on Voyager. "You sound as if you're not looking forward to it."

"Kathryn," Seven said, her voice dropping to a subdued tone, "they may be bringing something with them."

"Like what?"

"I do not wish for you to feel bad," the Borg said, her pale eyes full of concern for her spouse.

That made Janeway raise an eyebrow. "Why would their coming to dinner make me feel bad?" she asked, hooking a leash onto Jake's collar and securing him to the deck railing.

"I thought initially that you were 'pretending' not to remember," Seven said in a low voice. "But now, I do not believe you actually do."

"Remember what?" Janeway demanded. "What are B'Elanna and Ro bringing that would make me feel bad?"

Seven lifted her eyes, looking vaguely stricken. "Birthday gifts."

The time may have gone by without her noticing, Janeway thought idly, but Seven always knew when the date was.

"Oh, my god," she said in a weak voice. "Annika, it isn't..."

Seven bit her lower lip. "Actually, it is. B'Elanna and Ro said they would stop by tonight to help me celebrate." She paused, looking very unhappy. "I did not wish for you to be unpleasantly surprised."

Janeway crossed her arms over her chest, looking grim. "Well, we certainly couldn't have that, could we?" she said sarcastically. "My god, I shouldn't feel bad that it's your birthday and I forgot all about it, should I?"

Seven flinched. "Kathryn, it is all right," she insisted, opening the lid of the grill.

Janeway tilted her head, checking the time once more. "I'm sure it is," she said in a much gentler tone.

Throughout the yard, people abruptly began to materialize, the hum of multiple transporter signals filling the air while Seven turned around in shock and Jake, tied securely to the railing so he wouldn't get in the way, began to bark loudly.

The sparkles faded to reveal Seven's mother-in-law, all the people who had served closely with the Borg on Voyager who could make it to this particular event, as well as all the new friends working with her at the TPG. Most of them were bearing brightly wrapped gifts, and they looked around in that brief instant of disorientation after transport, checking their bearings, before shouting "Surprise!" loudly to the astounded Borg standing on the deck.

Seven's eyes were so wide they seemed to fill half her face as she stared disbelievingly at all her friends, then at her spouse, her mouth working but very little sound coming out of it. Janeway could not remember ever surprising her partner so completely before, and she filed the moment away as something to cherish for the rest of her life.

"Honestly, darling," Janeway said with a certain amount of satisfaction, "did you really think I would forget four years in a row? Three times was bad enough, even considering the fact how busy we were last year preparing the slipstream drive, but four would have required me to find the nearest bridge and jump off it. Since that's the Golden Gate..."

"I do not understand," Seven said, finally finding her voice again.

Janeway heard the sound of the doorbell, and she flashed a grin at her completely astounded partner. "That must be B'Elanna and Ro," she said cheerfully, shooting a look at her mother, who was the first onto the deck to greet Seven. "I'll get it. Don't forget to let Jake loose."

Leaving Gretchen, along with Chakotay and Leah Brahms, to explain how Janeway had arranged the entire surprise party, including having to receive clearance with the city of San Francisco and Starfleet transport operations for a mass site-to-site transport to a private backyard, the captain went to answer the front door. B'Elanna Torres grinned at her, while Ro Laren looked slightly embarrassed as Janeway frowned at them both.

"You're late," she said with a touch of exasperation. "You were supposed to help me keep Seven distracted this afternoon."

"My fault, Captain," B'Elanna said, as the couple brushed past Janeway, carrying a large, flat package. "We needed to pick this up before we came here, and when it didn't arrive when it was supposed to at the transport station, I insisted they track it down for me. That took longer than I thought it would."

"Dare I ask?" Janeway queried, regarding the huge gift warily. She remembered the last present the couple had given Seven and the captain for their anniversary, and wondered if she should make a point to have her partner open it in private, rather than in front of her guests. The odds that it was an exceedingly personal type of gift were very high.

"You'll have to wait until Seven opens it," the Klingon remarked. She and her lover sat the package carefully on the sofa, then the Klingon turned to regard Janeway. "Was she surprised?"

"Absolutely," Janeway said, pleased. "You should have seen her face."

B'Elanna exhaled audibly. "I wish I had," she said, voice tinged with regret.

The doorbell rang again, and as Janeway went to answer it, B'Elanna and Ro drifted out to the backyard where the party was rapidly developing into quite a noisy affair. Someone must have found the house entertainment controls because music was now reverberating from behind her, and the captain hoped their neighbors were the understanding type.

"Set up on the deck," the captain instructed the caterers from a local restaurant which specialized in small outdoor parties. "Use the side gate. This includes a wet-bar, correct?"

"Yes, Captain Janeway," the head caterer promised, as she showed him the yard entrance where he and his assistants could carry their supplies from their hovercraft to the patio, rather than have to tramp through the house. She scooted back inside and ran upstairs to the closet to retrieve the gift she had been saving for almost a month, digging it out of the most inaccessible part of the lower drawer. As she descended from the loft, she was startled to discover her partner waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

"You're missing your party," the captain told Seven, smiling.

The Borg didn't say anything. She just wrapped her partner up in her arms and kissed her until the captain was lightheaded, and couldn't quite feel her feet anymore. For long moments after Seven had finally released her and returned to her party outside, Janeway stood swaying slightly, her eyes closed and a silly smile on her face as she tried to locate the floor beneath her, hanging onto the bannister for support.

"Kathryn?"

The captain opened her eyes to find her mother staring at her, the brilliant blue eyes greatly amused. Taller than her daughter, the older woman had a shock of snow-white hair framing classic features that Janeway had inherited, particularly around the cheekbones and mouth.

"Are you all right?" Gretchen asked, looking tremendously impressed. "That was one hell of a kiss."

"It was, wasn't it?" Janeway agreed happily, still feeling a trifle dizzy. "I think she's pleased by the surprise party."

"I would say so," Gretchen said. "You know, I used to think it was primarily an intellectual attraction between you two, but now I see what really keeps you coming back."

"Mother!"

Gretchen started to laugh as she took her daughter's arm. "Sometimes, you're a very easy mark, Kathryn."

"Now, I know where Phoebe developed her horrid sense of humor," the captain grumbled with mock severity, which only caused her mother to laugh again as they went outside. "It's just as well she couldn't make it, or I'd have both of you to contend with."

"Oh, she wanted to. She just couldn't get away from her meeting with the curators at the Louvre in Paris. She did send along a card with a promise to get together with Seven next weekend for a special belated birthday dinner in Rome."

"Seven will love that," Janeway said idly as she checked on how things were progressing in the back yard. The caterers had set up at one end of the deck with Ro supervising the proceedings as Janeway had expected she would. Over the past few months, the Bajoran had turned into an extremely adept adjunct, seeming to know what Janeway required before the captain did, and it was entirely possible that Ro was finding her command training to be more useful than she had initially expected.

The sound of the second chime at the front door surprised Janeway, since the captain had thought that everyone who was invited to the party had already arrived. Leaving her gift on the picnic table with all the others, Janeway made another trip through the house to the front door. She was astonished to discover her superior officer, Admiral Nechayev, standing in the entrance, the diminutive, Slavic blonde, dressed in civilian clothes, and holding a gaily wrapped package.

"Kathryn, I understand the B... your spouse is having a birthday today," she said stiffly, obviously uncomfortable, but trying hard not to show it. "I thought I'd drop this by."

Janeway blinked. "That's wonderful. Come on in. We're having a party in the backyard."

Nechayev shook her head. "Thank you, no," she demurred. "I need to return home."

Janeway eyed her judiciously, recognizing that this was an instance where a certain amount of persuasion was required. "Don't be silly," she said, taking Nechayev's arm firmly and drawing her into the house. "Seven will be so pleased you stopped by."

This, of course, was an out-and-out lie, since Seven held the same sort of antipathy for the admiral as Nechayev had for the Borg, barely civil to each other the few times they had encountered each other. Janeway had been doing her best to moderate the situation over the past few months, separately working on both women to blunt the inevitable interaction between them, and the admiral stopping by with a gift was clear proof that the captain's subtle tactics were working. Though Nechayev looked a little panicked as Janeway dragged her through the house to the deck. She didn't resist exactly, but she obviously wasn't eager to join the young Borg's party, either.

There were a few raised eyebrows as the admiral appeared on the deck, but Ro didn't hesitate, retrieving some drinks from the bar and bringing them over to where the admiral and captain were standing, a whiskey and soda for Janeway, and a vodka tonic for Nechayev. Janeway dipped her head approvingly at the Bajoran who smiled faintly before drifting away to join B'Elanna. The admiral stared at her drink in consternation, as if wondering how it had suddenly appeared in her hand.

On the lawn, speaking to Icheb and Chakotay, Seven glanced up, her eyes widening as she saw who was standing with her partner. She hesitated, then, as if steeling herself for some unpleasant task, the Borg lowered her head and strode purposely for the deck. Janeway stifled a smile, thinking her partner looked as if she were about to go into battle rather than greet the newest guest to her party.

"Admiral," Seven said politely, her hands linked behind her back. Her face was as impassive as she could make it. "I am ... surprised ... to see you."

Nechayev looked as if she wanted to flee. "I ... ah, someone told me that Kathryn's wife was celebrating a birthday today," she managed weakly. "I thought a ... gift would be appropriate."

Janeway resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "The admiral brought you a present, Annika," she said pointedly.

"Thank you," Seven said automatically to Nechayev, in a wooden tone as she accepted the gift offered uncertainly by the Starfleet officer. Janeway wanted to kick her partner in the ankle, but couldn't figure out how to do it without it being obvious. The Borg glanced at her spouse, seemed to realize she was being ungracious, and softened slightly. "Kathryn has arranged a buffet. Please, partake of the meal." She paused, then with an almost visible effort, added, "I am ... sure you will enjoy the food."

Janeway closed her eyes, wanting to groan. To be fair, the situation had been sprung upon Seven unexpectedly, but she really had thought the young woman had acquired more social skills than this.

"Alynna."

All three women started slightly, surprised as Leah Brahms inserted herself into their circle. The scientist was a statuesque woman, with dark hair framing serene features and a bright smile ... and clearly, more than a little familiar with the Starfleet admiral. Nechayev raised her head, then offered a thin smile.

"Leah, it's good to see you again."

"Listen," Brahms said, taking the admiral's arm and drawing her away. "I want to talk to you about the Starfleet allocation of resources. Is there any chance you could put a word in for the TPG..."

Janeway sighed as the starship propulsion designer lured Nechayev off, and she was left regarding her partner. Seven pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"I was ... unacceptable," the Borg offered quietly.

"I wouldn't say that, exactly, darling," Janeway said ruefully. "I'll give you full marks for trying, and to be perfectly fair, she wasn't much better. You, at least, have the excuse of having been a Borg drone for eighteen years."

"Why is she here?"

"I don't know." Now that Janeway was thinking about it, it was unlikely that Nechayev had come simply in a 'gesture' to build bridges with Seven of Nine. It was entirely possible that she had some other purpose for stopping by, most likely involving Janeway on a professional level. "I'm sure I'll find out."

She felt a hand on her shoulder, a light touch to get her attention, and she turned to discover Voyager's chief medical officer.

"Doctor," she said, delighted. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"It might be my last chance to see you," he said, forcing a smile.

Janeway blinked, then frowned. Gripping his elbow lightly, she led him over to a nearby bench where they took a seat.

"What do you mean, Doctor?" she asked, once more feeling like Voyager's captain as every protective instinct she had suddenly went on alert.

"What's wrong?"

The Doctor felt a certain easing about his chest as he looked into the keen blue-grey eyes of the woman who had been his commanding officer. As a hologram, he wasn't sure what the sensation was, but as a doctor, he would have described it as 'breathing easier', though he did not have any need to breathe. Just being in the Janeway's presence made him somewhat more comfortable about having shared his news with her.

"Captain, it's important that you make other arrangements for your medical care," He concluded. "It's possible that by the time this is all over, I will no longer be able to practice medicine. You must also arrange another doctor for Seven, someone who can be familiarized with her Borg implants. The genetic material that I have been keeping for you both should be transferred to another facility as soon as possible."

"Hold on, Doctor," Janeway said, holding up her hand to stop him. It was clear that she was desperately attempting to digest everything that he had told her about his upcoming hearing with Starfleet. "What do you think is going to happen to you?"

"If Sam ... Miss Cogley ... cannot uphold my status as a sentient being, I am certain that Starfleet Medical intends to ... deactivate me, and decompile my base coding to determine what alterations occurred over the past seven years," he said flatly. "Undoubtedly to make sure my ... evolution ... doesn't happen again."

Janeway was horrified. "They can't do that."

"If I am only a hologram, they can do whatever they want. As an EMH Mark One assigned to a starship, my program would belong to them." He felt an odd sensation in his matrix flow, a bitterness that spread through the general vicinity of his oral cavity.

"Why didn't you come to me with this before now?" Janeway said sternly.

"For what purpose?" he asked her blankly. "You're no longer my commanding officer."

"I'm still your friend, Doctor," she said admonishingly. "I could have done something ... used my influence..."

"Your influence with Starfleet Medical is somewhat limited at the moment," he noted with light sarcasm, "considering you authorized my continual activation which contributed to my current state in the first place."

"Isn't that the point, Doctor?" Janeway offered, and despite the circumstances, he felt a sense of lightening at the determination in her tone. "I was the one who reported that you had transcended your programming to become something more than what you had been initially, and I'm the one who officially declared you sentient in my ship logs."

"Yes, and undoubtedly you will be called to testify to what events led you to believe that," he said, then hesitated. "How do you prove that belief to Starfleet Medical, Captain? They consider me obsolete, a holographic matrix that they reconfigured to scrub plasma conduits on waste transfer barges. Even you, in the beginning, required a great deal of convincing from Kes and then Seven, to accord me the most basic respect given to any other member of your crew."

She opened her mouth to respond, hesitated, then regarded him dolefully. "I'm beginning to comprehend the problem. Still, Doctor, I would have appreciated knowing what was going on. I assumed you were doing quite well with Dr. Zimmerman."

"I am," the Doctor told her. "He and I have managed a fairly ... benevolent ... working relationship. Certainly, we've been making incredible inroads into holographic programs that can work independently, that can learn and grow within the parameters of their matrix. Lt. Barclay, after his success with Pathfinder, has transferred over to assist us with the new Trojan Horse project."

Janeway shook her head, putting her fingertips against her brow. "I haven't even taken the time to arrange a meeting with Lt. Barclay. Since he was the one responsible for establishing Starfleet's contact with us while in the Delta Quadrant, we members of Voyager owe him a great deal. I think I've let certain things slip away from me this past year."

"We've all had our own lives to pursue in the Federation, Captain, including you," the Doctor said, shrugging lightly. "The opportunities to interact with each other have been few and far between in all the months since returning to the Alpha Quadrant." He dipped his head, depressed suddenly. "Of course, this will probably be the last chance I'll be able to visit."

"Don't be ridiculous, Doctor," Janeway said crisply. "I'll find a way to fix this."

"You're no longer responsible for Voyager's crew," he pointed out, wishing he could take it back as soon as he saw the look she bestowed upon him. It was all her molten fury and glacial control wrapped up in one intense glance that practically seared him to his matrix core.

"Perhaps not officially, but I'll be damned if I'll let one of them be persecuted without doing everything I can to stop it."

He bowed his head. "Thank you, Captain." Despite what he had said, the thought that she was now in his corner made him feel much lighter, as if his gravimetric controls were malfunctioning. A quick diagnostic showed that they weren't, so he suspected that this was profound relief rushing through him.

She patted him on the shoulder. "As I said, Doctor, you should have come to me sooner."

She stood up and made a beeline for Admiral Nechayev, who was standing with Brahms and a few of the other design engineers from the TPG, drawing the admiral aside to speak intently to her. The Doctor took the opportunity to seek out Seven of Nine who was currently in a group which included Chakotay, B'Elanna, and Ro Laren, the discussion centering on the Commander's recent field trip to an archaeological site with his class from Starfleet Academy.

They were considerably disturbed by the time the Doctor had finished filling them in on what was happening in his life, even Seven, who had suggested he go to Samantha Cogley in the first place, but had not really known how bad it was. The young woman was pleased that he found Sam to be a suitable legal counsel, but was outraged by the way Starfleet had attempted to commandeer his matrix for their own purposes.

"You must tell Kathryn about this," she said, frowning.

"I already have," he said, soothing her. It appeared that Seven's time in Federation society had accelerated her return to Humanity, the young woman much quicker to react emotionally to situations, and far more volatile in those emotions. Of course, to a person who didn't really know the Borg, she would still present an icy, composed demeanor, but for the Doctor, who had been witness to her development from the beginning, the difference since the last time he saw her was quite significant. He wondered what influences were acting on the young woman to make her so protective of those she considered her 'collective'.

Seven turned her head, seeming displeased when she saw Janeway speaking to Nechayev, but she did not say anything, simply taking the EMH in tow and dragging him across the lawn to where the two women were standing.

"We must do something," she stated flatly to Janeway, ignoring the admiral.

The captain glanced at her spouse. "I'm already working on it, Seven," she said pointedly, and nodded at Nechayev who regarded the young woman warily. "The admiral seems to think this is a minor matter that could be easily cleared up."

The Doctor frowned. "With all due respect, Admiral, I don't consider my freedom to be a 'minor matter'."

"Doctor," the admiral said earnestly, "I'm sure that Starfleet Medical has no intention of harming your matrix in any fashion. In fact, I'd be fairly interested to know why you believe they would."

"Because they keep trying to commandeer my matrix," he said, staring at her in frustration. "I would think their intent would be obvious."

Nechayev took a deep breath, then glanced at Janeway and visibly softened her stance, obviously more for the captain's benefit than for the Doctor's. The hologram raised an eyebrow as he observed this interaction curiously. Were the admiral and the captain friends?

"Doctor, Starfleet Medical has requested that you be transferred to their command, but that's because you haven't accepted a posting anywhere else," Nechayev stated. "I'm sure they're just trying to establish your status within their branch of Starfleet Command. Dr. Zimmerman, on the other hand, appears quite content to keep you under his control to study you, but he's acting outside his authorization by doing that."

"Dr. Zimmerman isn't studying me," the Doctor said, affronted. "We work together." He leaned forward. "He even pays me a salary, which is more than Starfleet is doing."

"Starfleet stopped crediting your account because you haven't reported for duty as ordered," Nechayev reminded him pointedly. "Doctor, correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you go to Dr. Zimmerman's Jupiter lab directly from McKinley Station after Voyager docked, then refused all further contact with Starfleet Medical?"

"Because they want to decompile my matrix."

"Who told you that?"

The Doctor paused. "Dr. Zimmerman," he said finally, frowned, then shook his head. "There have been several indications that Starfleet Medical considers me nothing more than a hologram."

"You are a hologram," Nechayev pointed out reasonably.

"A sentient hologram," he said acidly.

Nechayev paused, glancing again at the captain. "I'm not sure this is the place to be arguing that point," she said, somewhat uncomfortably as others had been drawn closer by the raised voices, becoming, by virtue of proximity, part of the discussion.

Janeway dipped her head. "I respectfully disagree, Admiral," she said, glancing around at the people surrounding them. "The more people that are aware of this situation, the better it will be for the Doctor's case." She paused, then glanced at the hologram. "However, it's also not fair to put the admiral in this kind of position, Doctor. As she so correctly pointed out to me when I first asked her about it, she really has nothing to do with Starfleet Medical. I do know a few people there who might be able to clear this up without any further inconvenience to anyone."

"Kathryn, are you sure you should be interfering with this?" Nechayev asked.

The Doctor was aware of Seven stiffening beside him, and Chakotay, who had been hovering next to the captain, carefully eased out of the direct firing line between the women.

"Admiral, regardless of the fact that I've stood down from command of Voyager, these people are still my crew," Janeway said pleasantly, if exceedingly firm in her tone. "You cannot ask me to stand by and do nothing while one of them is in trouble."

Nechayev frowned and shook her head. "There may not be any trouble beyond what Zimmerman is manufacturing, but I should know by now that you don't stand down for anything, even when it's the proper thing to do."

"I'm glad we agree," Janeway said, and flashed the admiral a bit of smile, as if the two women were sharing a private joke of sorts. The Doctor felt very much like an outsider, and it was not a pleasant feeling.

Seven seemed to sense his disquiet and she moved closer, placing her hand warmly on his shoulder.

"Doctor, Kathryn will solve this problem," she told him seriously. "You will have her declaration of your sentience upheld, and then you will be able to begin treating patients again." She paused. "You will always be my doctor."

Nechayev frowned, raising her head. "One moment. Are you telling me that you're continuing to treat patients? It was one thing to do it on Voyager, but you're an emergency medical hologram, not a qualified doctor."

The Doctor, bolstered by Seven's support and the apparent willingness of the captain to present his case, squared his shoulders. "I am fully capable of performing any medical duties that any physician can perform. Over the past seven years, I have proven that countless times." He paused, frowning at her. "Tell me Admiral, do you believe I'm sentient?"

Nechayev's face abruptly turned to stone, and the Doctor suspected he had probably asked one question too many, one that he really didn't need to hear the answer to. That was a failing of his, always having to get in the last word, and he suspected he had Dr. Zimmerman's programming to thank for that, because his creator operated on much the same level. The arguments the pair of them got into while working together were more than enough to send Lt. Barclay fleeing out of the lab on several occasions, causing Zimmerman to note that the Starfleet officer was a bit 'sensitive'. Fortunately, neither Zimmerman nor the Doctor were nearly as high-strung as Barclay appeared to be.

"No," Nechayev responded finally, in a flat tone. "I don't believe you're sentient. I believe that you think you are. I believe that your programming has been adapted to give the appearance of being sentient over the past few years. Certainly, you're more advanced than any hologram I've ever seen before, but ultimately, you're still a hologram, and holograms are not lifeforms."

The Doctor abruptly discovered that perhaps he was just the slightest bit 'sensitive' after all, because his feelings were profoundly hurt.

Seven grew more uncomfortable as the discussion continued. After the admiral's initial statement of disbelief as to the EMH's sentience, others had become involved, arguing the issue from both sides. The crew from Voyager appeared unified in their belief that the Doctor was a viable lifeform, while Nechayev, Dr. Brahms, and the engineers from the TPG argued the other side, purely on a technical basis. No one seemed to be taking it personally, except perhaps the Doctor, but that was enough for the Borg to feel her levels of annoyance and resentment toward the admiral rise steadily.

"Face it, Doctor," Nechayev said coolly to the EMH, "I'm not a holo-programmer, but give me a tricorder, and a few seconds, and I could permanently alter your matrix, not only so that you wouldn't believe you're sentient, but in such a way that you wouldn't even consider yourself a doctor anymore. Judging from Voyager's logs, we can't forget how easily the crew of the Equinox were able to alter your ethical programming with only a minor expenditure of energy."

Seven was absolutely infuriated by this, perceiving it as an unnecessarily cruel statement about a situation that the Doctor had been greatly shamed by. She immediately struck back, wanting to show the admiral how it felt to have her individuality dismissed so cavalierly.

"And I," she interjected bitingly, "could utilize my assimilation tubes and turn you into an unresisting Borg drone. That too, would require only a 'minor expenditure of energy'. Does that mean you are not sentient?"

Nechayev turned white, Dr. Brahms raised an eyebrow curiously, and Janeway groaned audibly, closing her eyes. The Doctor snorted briefly, halfway between laughter and dismay over his defender's choice of words, obviously aware of the admiral's attitude toward the Borg. Seven realized that she may have chosen an inappropriate argument to counter the admiral's point, but while she regretted that she had made her other guests uncomfortable, she did not regret in the slightest that Nechayev had been forced to take a step back. She did not like the admiral, and she did not understand her spouse's insistence that if the two women would only get to know each other, they would become ... if not, friends, then at least, tolerable acquaintances. Seven knew better, not only from her own instinctual distrust of the admiral, but from what she had extrapolated from discussions with her mentor at Starfleet Command.

"Because this is an off-duty function, I'm going to forget you said that," Nechayev said in a dangerously low tone. "However, if I ever hear of you threatening to utilize your implants in such a fashion again..."

"Seven was merely upset on the Doctor's behalf," Janeway broke in strongly, shooting an admonishing look at her spouse and drawing the admiral's attention back to her. "She was merely making the point that just because the Doctor has certain technical weaknesses, it does not make him less of a viable lifeform. Perhaps the example was ... ill chosen, but the intent was sincere. Admiral, the Doctor, regardless of what his form consists of, is a sentient being ... just as drones are, not only before, but also during and after assimilation."

"He considers himself sentient only because he has been programmed over time to believe it," Nechayev argued, turning her attention to the captain and proceeding to ignore Seven. "That perception of him was based on him becoming a member of your crew. It is not something that would have ever evolved on its own ... which makes it an artificial parameter. It's a circle that feeds on itself ... the more you believe he's sentient, the more the program has him act that way for the comfort of the lifeforms around it ... but take it out of the confines of the environment that created the circle, as Voyager returning to the Federation has done ... then it becomes clear that it is simply a faulty line of reasoning. He is nothing more than a hologram."

Seven was fully prepared to counter that as well, but a sharp look from her partner made her subside, and frowning, the Borg took her empty glass over to the bar, deciding that if she remained in the admiral's proximity, she would only do something that would displease her partner further. As the bartender refilled her glass with fruit juice, she became aware of being flanked on either side by B'Elanna and Ro.

"Kahless, Seven, what the hell did you say to Nechayev?" the Klingon asked anxiously. "She looked like she wanted to phaser you into non-existence right where you stood."

Seven felt a certain amusement. "She undoubtedly did," she replied and told her friend what the argument had been about. It was obvious to her that while both B'Elanna and her partner had been observing her interaction with Nechayev, they couldn't hear what was being said.

Ro looked slightly concerned by the time the Borg had finished. "I suspect you could have worked a little more tact into the conversation at that point," the Bajoran offered. "There's a time and place to attack a known weakness in your opponent, Seven, but I'm not sure that was either."

Seven tightened her mouth stubbornly. "Nechayev will not help the Doctor. Kathryn is wasting her time. The admiral does not consider anyone but full-blooded Humans truly sentient. Even Starfleet officers of hybrid extraction have problems with her."

B'Elanna was startled. "Where did you hear that?"

Seven lowered her head, frowning. "I do not remember exactly, but certainly her attitude makes that impression easy to believe. She is a larger threat to the ideals of Starfleet than those the Federation considers enemies."

"She can be obnoxious, Seven," Ro agreed, exchanging an odd sort of glance with B'Elanna that Seven did not comprehend. "But honestly, she's an equal opportunity grouch. She treats everyone, Humans as well, with the same attitude, demanding they earn her respect, rather than simply granting it to them."

"She is respectful of Kathryn."

B'Elanna snorted. "I bet the captain had to be at her best to achieve it."

Seven regarded the dark haired woman. "Are you saying that you like the admiral?" She felt disappointed. Was she the only one at this party who saw Nechayev as the small being she truly was?

"Oh, hell, no!" B'Elanna exclaimed, patting the Borg on the shoulder. "I couldn't stand her the few times I've run into her at Utopia Planitia, but you don't necessarily have to like someone to respect them, Seven. Her Starfleet record is outstanding ... even for me, the unbiased cynic." She paused, looking at her friend closely, perhaps sensing that the Borg was not convinced. "Do you remember what it was like when you and I first met?"

Seven smiled faintly. "Yes, I did not like or respect you in the beginning."

"And you turned out to be completely wrong," B'Elanna returned, grinning as Seven threw her a sideways glance. "The respect came first, then we gradually grew to like each other, but even if we hadn't made the second step, the first would have remained."

"Perhaps," Seven said, allowing that much, though she did not think it was the same set of circumstances in this case. She could not imagine ever liking Nechayev, and she wished Janeway was not so appreciative of her superior officer. Of course, Janeway eventually saw the truth about Owen Paris, who had filled the role of the captain's mentor as she rose through the ranks, so perhaps the captain would eventually understand the truth about Nechayev, as well.

She sipped her fruit juice, and decided to retreat inside for a while, at least until her annoyance at Nechayev had cooled somewhat. B'Elanna and Ro retrieved their own drinks and followed the Borg into the house where they found seats on the sofa in front of the fireplace, across from where Seven was seated in the chair.

"At the risk of changing the subject, Seven," B'Elanna began, once they settled in, "is it true what they're saying about that transition drive?"

"I could better respond to that question if I were aware of exactly what 'they' were saying."

"That Humans can't use it." B'Elanna snuggled against Ro who obligingly put her arm around the Klingon's shoulders.

Seven raised an eyebrow. "You are referring to the effects to Humans during the transition stage between warp speed, and the subspace corridor. It has been determined that Humans are susceptible to certain symptoms of disorientation and illness during this period of acceleration."

"Humans can't stay on their feet through the transition stage," B'Elanna translated, "and they throw up."

"It is most inconvenient, but not life-threatening."

Ro frowned. "Wouldn't that prevent Janeway from being captain, particularly if she can't tolerate the transition?"

"It is a very brief period of time," Seven said dismissively. "Another officer could supervise the bridge during that stage ... one assumes Kathryn will be required to choose a first officer who is not Human."

"I guess that leaves Chakotay out," B'Elanna said, offering her partner a sly look that Ro either did not notice or chose to ignore.

"I don't believe he would be interested," Ro said. "The way he was talking about his classes, he seems pretty happy to be teaching at the Academy."

"Kathryn will require entirely new personnel," Seven agreed. "She is already thinking about what kind of a crew she would like to assemble. She realizes that a great many of them will be probably be very young, as many of the starship crews now are."

"Janeway on a boatload of kids," B'Elanna said, her grin showing sharp-edged teeth. "I'd love to see that."

"She would be excellent at teaching them how to be proper Starfleet officers, just as she taught you ... and me." Her face softened. "There will also be extensive facilities for families, unlike the makeshift arrangements Voyager provided for the children born there."

"Speaking of children, weren't you and Janeway going to have your own?" B'Elanna asked, without a shred of tact. "Is she pregnant yet?"

Seven glanced down at her drink. "Kathryn and I have decided to wait before extending our family. Our lives are not at a stage where children are yet an option."

Ro regarded her narrowly. "Who's decision was that?"

Seven's eyes rose to meet hers. "Mine. I have discovered that too many things occupy my attention at the moment. It would be incorrect to have children now, since I am not prepared to grant them the commitment they deserve." She had surprised the other couple, she saw, but that seemed to be the standard response upon hearing her change of attitude, so she did not pay it much mind.

"Well, that's life," B'Elanna said finally, after digesting this one. "Plans change."

"I suppose we should tell you our own news," Ro offered. B'Elanna glanced at her, bestowing an achingly, tender look which was somewhat out of character on the Klingon's brash features, making it all the more poignant.

"Proceed," Seven said, curious as to what could cause such a reaction in her friend.

"We're getting married," B'Elanna blurted, before Ro could answer. "In a few months."

Seven blinked. "Indeed." Satisfaction rushed through her, though she did not entirely understand why, since she had nothing to do with the couple's decision. She offered the pair one of her rare smiles. "That is very acceptable."

"Thank you, Seven," Ro said dryly, obviously understanding what was really meant behind the Borg's words.

B'Elanna was right, Seven thought. Life did change, and it was not always in uncertain ways, but in positive ways as well. Approvingly, she raised her glass.

"May your life together be as successful as Kathryn's and mine."

"Hey, if it's half as successful, we're happy," B'Elanna said, obviously pleased by the toast.

"Very happy," Ro added, and raised her own glass.

"Did you really have to threaten to assimilate her, Annika?" Janeway asked, brushing out her auburn hair as she prepared for bed.

Seven glanced up from the padd she was studying as she leaned back against the headboard, the covers draped becomingly over her nude form. Her pale eyes were chilly, but she did offer a small smile that warmed them as she regarded her partner.

"I realize it was inappropriate, but what she said was also unkind."

"I can't argue with that," Janeway said, putting her brush in the drawer of her night stand and slipping out of her robe before crawling between the warm sheets next to her partner. "But two wrongs do not make a right."

Seven lifted her head curiously. "Is that a saying of some kind?"

Janeway shot her a look. "You know it is. Quit trying to change the subject." She lay back on her pillow, relaxing now that she was finally in bed. It had been a very long day, and tomorrow, she could expect a rather extensive cleanup of the downstairs of the house which, unlike the backyard, had not been covered by the catering contract. Beside her, she felt the mattress dip as Seven put her padd away and brought the lights down with a brief command before rolling over to her side to look down at her partner. Aware of the scrutiny, Janeway opened her eyes and gazed into the intent regard of her spouse, the young woman's face shadowed in the dim illumination of city lights reflected through the bedroom window.

"What did she want?"

Janeway smiled crookedly. "Apparently, I need to assess the new fighters we're planning to use for the Millennium."

"'Assess'?" Seven echoed warily.

"We're doing some test flights," Janeway elaborated shortly. "The week after next."

Seven was silent ... a sort of oppressive silent ... and the captain raised her near eyebrow, appraising her partner's expression. "You object?"

"It could be dangerous."

"It could." The captain exhaled slowly, then injected a certain note of command in her voice. "Your concern is noted, darling."

Seven dipped her head, obviously not happy about it. . "This is not something that I have leave to argue about with you."

"This is part of my job, Seven."

The Borg hesitated, then placed her palm carefully on the captain's stomach. "I understand." She hesitated, then began to move her hand, rubbing Janeway's belly lightly. "Thank you for today, Kathryn. It was an enjoyable party, and it pleased me to see all my friends again."

"Even when they weren't all your friends?" Janeway asked with dry humor, reaching up to stroke tender fingertips along Seven's cheek.

The young woman dipped her head, her gaze growing more intent. "Kathryn, regardless of the antagonism between Admiral Nechayev and myself, I do not wish to place you ... 'in the middle', I do not agree with your perception, or admiration, of her, but I would never attempt to make you 'choose' between us, even in a limited fashion. I comprehend that we both have people in our lives that the other does not necessarily approve of, but it is an individual choice, and I know we both must respect that."

Sighing, the captain slipped her other arm around the young woman's torso, hugging her lightly. "Thank you, darling. I hope I didn't ruin things for you by inviting her in to join your party. Of course, between the Doctor's news and some of the drunken behavior that occurred later in the evening from the scientists from the TPG, I'm afraid it didn't turn out nearly as well as I'd hoped. I rather wish B'Elanna had not suggested 'shooters straight up' as a way to move the evening along."

Seven leaned down and kissed her briefly. "It was a wonderful birthday. You are a most wonderful spouse."

"Did you really enjoy it, darling?" Janeway asked wistfully.

"I did." Seven kissed her again, lingering a bit this time. "It was the best birthday I have ever experienced."

"Hmm," Janeway murmured, enjoying the play of lips over her own. "I'm glad."

"Did B'Elanna and Ro tell you their news?" Seven suddenly drew back.

The captain blinked, not entirely sure she wanted to hear it. . "You mean there's more on top of everything else we discovered today?"

"They are getting married," Seven informed her. "In two months."

Janeway raised an eyebrow. "Oh," she said, somewhat at a loss for words. "That's ... wonderful."

Seven lifted her head, puzzled. "You do not sound as if you entirely mean that."

"I do mean it," Janeway said with more certainty. "I'm very happy for them. I guess I was just a little surprised. I hadn't realized they had become that serious."

"They have lived together for months, Kathryn," Seven pointed out. "Including when they shared quarters on Voyager."

"I suppose you're right." Janeway shook her head slightly. "Life keeps moving right along, doesn't it, darling?"

"That is its function." Seven nibbled at Janeway's earlobe. "Do you feel as if you are falling out of step, Kathryn?"

Janeway considered that. "Not exactly. I'm just more aware today of how time is slipping away from all of us."

"Birthdays always seem to be an occasion for reflection." The young woman paused. "I was surprised by B'Elanna and Ro's present."

Thinking of the large painting of Voyager streaking across the colorful backdrop of a nebula, Janeway was forced to agree. Commissioned and painted by the captain's sister, Phoebe, it seemed a fairly bland and impersonal gift, especially considering who was involved.

"It did seem fairly ... mundane," the captain allowed slowly. "Somehow, when it comes to those three, I'm always expecting something quite..." She trailed off, unable to think of a proper pronoun.

"Outrageous," Seven supplied. "Audacious? Flamboyant?"

Janeway's lips curled in amusement, realizing her partner had been actively expanding her vocabulary since returning to the Alpha Quadrant. "This was the sort of gift that comes from a couple who doesn't really know us, and painted by an artist who didn't appear particularly inspired. That just doesn't describe those three at all ... which makes me wonder why this gift would be so ... ordinary."

Seven was silent for a moment. "Perhaps it is because things are so peaceful in the Alpha Quadrant. It influences how a person reacts to certain situations. It occurs to me that you were able to remember my birthday this year because we were not in the middle of a crisis."

"That and the fact that I put reminders on every computer station I work at," Janeway allowed modestly. "Both here and at Utopia Planitia, not to mention asking Mom to remind me of it constantly. Believe me, Annika, it would have taken something major for me to forget it this time."

"I am glad you did not," Seven murmured, moving closer. "Such effort on your part to celebrate my birthday means a great deal to me."

The captain's smile widened as Seven's slow circles over her stomach became more exaggerated, brushing against the underside of the captain's breasts, then down below her navel to drag her long fingers through Janeway's auburn thatch. "Hmm, I don't suppose you were expecting something else for your birthday, were you?"

"The jewelry and clothing you gave me were most acceptable." Seven made a small sound of amusement, nuzzling the side of Janeway's jaw. "In this instance, I was contemplating something of a mutual gift ... or are you too wearied from today's events?"

"It was something of a full day, but I can't imagine ever being so tired that I wouldn't want ... a gift like that."

"Sometimes you are," Seven noted. "Throughout the week, for example."

"Really?" Janeway purred, raising her head as Seven kissed along the line of her throat. "It seems to me you're the one that comes home and goes straight to bed ... not for gift-giving purposes, either. Instead, you just roll over and start snoring."

Seven drew back to look at her. "I do not snore, Kathryn."

"But you do fall asleep very quickly."

"The challenges of my position are satisfying, but quite taxing." Seven touched the captain's breasts gently, lightly brushing her fingertips over the nipples that hardened from the delicate sensation. "Are you beginning to feel neglected, Kathryn? As you mentioned, your duties at Utopia Planitia are easing. Should I make a point of also shortening my hours through the week?"

"Is that possible?" Janeway inhaled slowly as Seven slowly circled each areola, teasing the sensitive skin and spreading tendrils of delight through her chest.

"I believe that I could designate one evening through the week as a supplement to the weekend," Seven said thoughtfully. "Perhaps Wednesday?"

"That sounds wonderful." Janeway released her breath in a hiss as Seven rolled a nipple between her forefinger and thumb. "One night a week where we both make a point of being home for dinner."

"I will discuss it with Dr. Brahms," Seven promised. "I accept that I do not have the necessary time to accord children, but I have every intention of providing the proper attention to you and our marriage."

"Thank you, darling." Janeway smiled happily. "You really are a most remarkable spouse."

"It is merely a matter of establishing priorities, Kathryn." Seven took the moment to kiss her quite thoroughly. "You will always be my ultimate priority."

"Speaking of priorities," Janeway muttered once they parted, Seven continuing to play with the captain's breast tenderly, "I don't suppose we could table all current discussion for a later time."

Seven smiled in the darkness, the bright edge of her teeth barely showing in the lowered illumination. "Am I making it difficult for you to concentrate, Kathryn?"

Janeway chuckled. "What I'm waiting for is for you to make it impossible for me to concentrate."

"I will comply," Seven whispered, sliding over until she was on top of her spouse, her greater mass pressing down lightly on the captain. Her lips became decidedly more passionate, and the smaller woman hummed softly, delighting in the warmth of Seven's body on hers.

The kisses grew lengthy, lingering, neither woman in a particular hurry to reach satisfaction this night. Janeway spread her legs, feeling Seven's hips settle between them, the soft hair of the blonde triangle a pleasant tickle against her intimate flesh. Seven cradled Janeway's shoulders on her forearms, holding her close as their breasts cushioned each other, their abdomens sliding across silky smooth skin. The captain thought she would be perfectly content to remain in this position for the rest of her life.

Except, of course, that contentment did not last any longer than it took for their desire to begin demanding more specific attention, their kisses growing fierce and ardent with each passing moment, their hands more erotic in their caress. When Seven finally rose up, bending her knee and positioning their centers against each other, Janeway groaned happily at the incredible sensation of wetness pressed against wetness, the slow, very controlled motion of intimate flesh searing hotly along her nerve endings. It grew difficult to breathe and the captain gasped for air, clutching at her partner as delight rippled through her with increasing intensity. This position worked wonderfully because of Seven's greater strength and discipline, keeping the motion steady and constant, the Borg holding Janeway firmly in place as she undulated over her, the sound of their joining sticky and provocative, enhancing their lovemaking.

Janeway jerked uncontrollably as the pleasure swept her up abruptly, dancing along her senses, the rapture surging in an overwhelming peak. As if this was all Seven required to trigger her own desire, she cried out Kathryn's name in a heated whisper, her motion no longer controlled, but instead, a series of hard shudders that pressed her tightly against Janeway, before finally releasing the Borg into the aftermath of her climax.

The Borg slumped over the captain, careful not to put her full weight on the smaller woman, but still needing this moment of helplessness as Janeway surrounded her protectively with her embrace. Nuzzling the young woman's ear and neck, Janeway felt the last tremors subside in both their bodies, the languid joy of fulfillment cradling them in a mutual pact of satisfaction, once more content to lie quietly together in a state of sated bliss.

"Happy Birthday," Janeway muttered finally.

Seven laughed outright, her sense of humor developed enough to appreciate both the timing and absurdity of the remark.

Janeway smiled and hugged her partner closer as they settled on the mattress, finding a comfortable position in which to snuggle in the lassitude of afterglow. Seven's arm and leg were draped warmly over the captain, while her head lay on the pillow next to Janeway's, her face mere millimeters away. Janeway could feel the sweet warmth of her partner's breath feathering over her cheek and jaw, and she made a soft sound of sheer happiness deep in her throat.

Seven pursed her lips, kissing Janeway lightly on the soft spot beneath her ear.

"I love you, my Kathryn," she murmured sleepily.

"You're my heart, Annika," Janeway whispered back, the words more a necessary ritual of eternal devotion between them now, rather than developing into platitudes as they might have had the love between them lessened in any degree over the years rather than deepening into this solid bond of togetherness.

Smiling in the warm cocoon of darkness, Janeway listened as the breathing of her partner smoothed out beside her, the young woman surrendering to sleep. With little hesitation, she followed suit, drifting off in Seven's arms, love permeating every molecule of her body and soul.

Dr. Kate Pulaski looked up from her desk at Starfleet Medical's main administration facility, disturbed by an intrusive beep that sounded from her work station. Irritably, she lifted her chin further, resenting yet another interruption in her work, and her hard blue eyes glared in the general direction of the ceiling, though the computer could pick up her commands regardless of how she held her head.

"Computer, who is it?"

"Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Utopia Planitia shipyards."

The older woman blinked, surprised by the response. Kathryn Janeway had been a student of hers years ago at Starfleet Academy, and though they had kept in touch... at least until Voyager had been lost in the Delta Quadrant ... it had been a cordial, rather than a particularly close friendship. Pulaski was a little surprised Janeway would make a point of calling on her in person, then she remembered what the hot topic was in the various coffee rooms around Starfleet Medical the past few months, and decided the captain's sudden appearance was understandable. The issues surrounding Zimmerman's EMH were not going to go away, and undoubtedly, both sides were assessing their alliances, pulling in any strings they had that could be pulled.

Pulaski knew it had been Janeway who had officially declared the hologram a member of her crew, as well as establishing its status as a sentient lifeform. She had no illusions about which side the captain was representing.

"Come." She stood as the door slid open to reveal the uniformed figure of the starship captain. Pulaski eyed her curiously as Janeway entered, assessing the changes that had occurred since the last time she had seen her. The signs of aging in Janeway's classic features, the deepening lines around the brilliant eyes and warm mouth, made the doctor feel old. Easily remembering the fresh young woman who had caused her no little aggravation at the Academy, Pulaski found herself wondering what tempering the captain had experienced in the Delta Quadrant for her to now radiate such an incredible presence of experience and wisdom.

"Kathryn," she said, reaching out her hand. "It's so good to see you again."

"I want to thank you for the flowers you sent to recognize Voyager's return," Janeway replied pleasantly, grasping the doctor's hand in a strong grip. "It meant a lot to me."

The medical officer dipped her head, as the two women took their seats on opposite sides of the desk. "I received your note. I would have contacted you personally, but I knew you'd be so busy readjusting to being back, that it would take some time before you got around to visiting old acquaintances. What brings you by today?"

Janeway had the grace to blush. "I wish I were stopping by under other circumstances. I have to talk to you about something important."

Pulaski nodded "So you are here about the hologram issue," she said, a statement, not a question. "Not just to catch up on my news."

"Actually..." Janeway paused, then looked vaguely embarrassed. "I have spoken with you recently ... at least, an alternative version of you."

Pulaski blinked. "That sounds intriguing. Could you elaborate a bit more?"

It took a while for Janeway to explain about the other universe where she had not only met and befriended her own counterpart, but had resumed her relationship with the Pulaski of that parallel reality. Halfway through the recitation, the doctor had to go into her desk to pull out a bottle of whiskey, pouring each of them a glass, requiring libation as she listened to all this. Then, she refilled them to the brim, as the captain further explained her position on the evolution of Voyager's EMH program, and why she had come to such a decision in declaring him sentient.

"This is pretty incredible," Pulaski offered finally, after the captain had finished speaking.

"Every word is true," Janeway assured her, sipping the smokey liquid cautiously. "Kate, I appreciate that you possess a certain amount of wariness when it comes to technological advances, but you're also a fair-minded person, and willing to entertain new ideas."

"The new idea in this case being an EMH achieving sentience? Kathryn, I appreciate that you believe your hologram has become ... well, more than what the initial program set out to do, but I have to tell you, I'm on the side of Starfleet Medical in this. I find it highly unlikely that a hologram has achieved true sentience."

A flash of dismay crossed Janeway's face. "Didn't you once tell me that you had learned a great deal about what constitutes life from serving with an android on the Enterprise? Isn't this the same thing?"

"Kathryn, my conflict with Data was that he wanted to be Human, and my contention about that continues to this day. I believed he should be content with what he is ... the only one of his kind ... not strive to be something he could never achieve. I know he participated in a trial that granted him certain rights and privileges as an android in Starfleet, and those have yet to be challenged, but that didn't make him any more than what he already was; it did not make him either Human, or an alien lifeform, merely a technical being with a unique status. I've worked with several EMH programs, and found them very useful supplements on occasion, particularly the Mark Four, but they're only tools. If your hologram has become a little more than that, it was only because the programming expanded beyond the initial technology, thanks to the constant enhancements programmed in by your crew, not because it was somehow granted life."

Janeway looked vastly disappointed at this, but it was clear she wasn't about to give up so easily. "What is life?"

"The current physical description, or the metaphysical version?" Pulaski did not take offense at the tone. It wasn't like Janeway to be so adamant unless she was truly passionate about the subject, and it was obvious to the doctor that, regardless of whether or not the hologram was actually anything more than what it appeared to be, the captain believed it was. "Kathryn, it is a condition of being that exercises functional powers. Right away, your hologram can't function outside its parameters, being purely dependent on a matrix created by machines, whether it's the ship's systems, or the enhanced mobile emitter it carries around. It may have expanded its access to a larger database, that grants it the appearance of being alive, but that's all it is ... an illusion."

"You know about the emitter?"

Pulaski rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows about it. Frankly, I think Starfleet Medical is less interested in having the hologram decompiled, than Starfleet Science is in getting their hands on that portable device for their own holographic research."

"You don't see anything wrong in that?"

"Of course, I do," Pulaski said patiently. "It's nothing more than scientific greed, but it's a greedy grab for technology, not an attempt to usurp the rights of an individual lifeform."

"That's semantics."

"It's all semantics, Kathryn," Pulaski said firmly. "It's entirely possible to debate whether you or I are actually sentient beings, depending on the circumstances. Certainly, I'm not denying that it usually comes down to what one believes. It just so happens that the predominant belief at the moment is that a hologram cannot achieve life."

"That doesn't make it a correct assessment, however," Janeway said spiritedly. "Such finely debated semantics have been used throughout history to oppress the rights of others. This being is worthy of being considered alive, while this one is property ... have we achieved so little in the past few centuries?"

"I agree that perhaps we don't always know what is truth versus what is simply believed," Pulaski said doggedly. "But whether we like it or not, one must set limits, particularly with technological refinement. Where do you draw the line, Kathryn?"

"I draw it when a friend of mine is being threatened with termination."

Pulaski looked at her, then smiled faintly.

"Do you still have a dog, Kathryn?"

"Yes, I do," Janeway said, temporarily thrown by the change of topic. It made her wary, the suspicion clear in her eyes. "I actually found one in the Delta Quadrant, and he lived on the ship with me. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Are you fond of your dog?"

"Of course."

"Would you trade the life of any Human to save your dog?"

"Of course not," Janeway said, frowning. "That would be ... I couldn't accept that."

"Would you trade Voyager's EMH to save your dog?"

Janeway hesitated. "That's not the point."

Pulaski leaned forward, sensing a weak area. "Of course it is. Let me try it from another angle. You're a starship captain, Kathryn. You know that in that role, you could be called upon, at any time, to sacrifice the life of one of your crewmembers to save the ship." She paused. "Yet, a starship is only an inanimate object, a piece of equipment. What such a statement really means, is that you would sacrifice the life of one crewmember in order to save the lives of the rest of your crew. 'Saving the ship' only means the crew as a whole, not the actual vessel itself. You would never sacrifice a person's life just to save a piece of equipment."

"That's understood." Undoubtedly, the captain could tell Pulaski was leading up to something, but from her expression, the doctor knew that she hadn't quite determined what yet, which would make her next words all the more compelling.

"My question is, Kathryn: in an emergency where you could save only one, an injured crewmember or the damaged EMH operating system, which would you choose? Would you, as captain, sacrifice the living crewmember to salvage the EMH ... or would you just let the program cease to exist in order to save the person who was alive? Would you even hesitate in your decision?"

Her face like stone, Janeway glared at the doctor. "That's not fair."

Pulaski raised an eyebrow. "Of course it is, Kathryn. I know, and you know, that you would never sacrifice any living being for that hologram, regardless of how sentient you want to think it is. Hell, you might not even be prepared to sacrifice your dog to save its program." She paused. "Or are you entertaining the perception that the EMH program is only ... 'sort of' alive ... that there is a category for 'limited sentience'?"

Janeway looked down, unable to meet Pulaski's eyes. "This is why I've always hated your classes."

Pulaski leaned back in her chair. "You have to think about this, Kathryn. Starfleet Medical certainly is."

"But this is nothing more than a technology bias imposed upon us by cultural conditioning," Janeway said tightly. "You're right, I wouldn't hesitate in your example to save the crewmember rather than the Doctor, but that wouldn't make me right ... just that my enlightenment about what constitutes life is not as advanced as I would like it to be."

"It doesn't mean such hesitation on your part is wrong, either," Pulaski replied gently. "Kathryn, you're obviously fond of the program. Hell, I have holograms I'm fond of, too, and I take a tour through the holodeck with them every so often, but I don't make the mistake of considering them as alive as the stranger next door. To do so would be irrational."

"The Doctor had performed nobly as my CMO. I'm not going to let him be destroyed simply because others don't see his value."

"Then, maybe you need to approach it on that level," Pulaski offered reasonably. "Take the stand that the enhancements added to his program have made him an extraordinarily valuable and unique piece of equipment, one that Starfleet Command simply can't afford to treat like any other hologram. Work to have him assigned to Zimmerman's lab full time for his holographic research projects. He is the foremost authority on holographic science, after all, and Starfleet Medical might go for that type of compromise. It's my honest opinion that this whole sentience defense will fail, Kathryn, and frankly, it should. A hologram is not a living organism, nor will it ever be, no matter how much its program expands."

Janeway exhaled slowly. "Damn it. Can you at least give me a name to start with if I decide to go that route?"

Pulaski hesitated, then smiled. "Dr. Romanoff, in Prague, has stated that he's not as firm in pursuing a course of legal action as others are. He might be able to convince the rest of Starfleet Medical to compromise on the issue. But he won't be swayed on the sentience issue, just the idea of where the technology could be placed."

Janeway dipped her head. "Thank you."

Pulaski topped off their glasses again, deciding that perhaps they had just about exhausted this subject, and could probably benefit from a change of topic.

"I heard you had a Borg on your ship," she said, eyeing the compact captain narrowly. "Is it true you ... married her?"

An expression ghosted over Janeway's face, one Pulaski had rarely seen on most people, and even more rarely on this woman's face, a brief flash of sheer joy and contentment. Pulaski had known Edward Janeway, and believed his daughter had too much of a father fixation to ever be that adventurous in a personal relationship. She had been surprised to hear that Janeway had fallen in love with a woman in the first place, and had been even more shocked at the concept of it being an ex-Borg.

"Her name is Annika Hansen." There was an oddly tender note in her voice that caused an unexpected echoing resonance within the doctor's chest when she heard it. "She still goes by Seven of Nine of course. You can take the girl out of the Collective, but it's hard to take the Collective out of the girl ... at least, entirely." Her eyes were amused, and Pulaski blinked, surprised again that Janeway and her spouse were comfortable enough to joke about it.

"She sounds incredible."

"She is," Janeway insisted. "Listen, I would love for you to meet her."

"I'm sure I'd enjoy that," Pulaski allowed. "For no other reason than to meet the person who put that lilt in your voice and sparkle in your eye."

Janeway chuckled. "Come over to dinner this Saturday night. We'll spend the evening reminiscing, and I'll tell you all about what happened in the Delta Quadrant."

"Of course," Pulaski promised, though she had no doubt Janeway would use the opportunity to present her case once more, falling back to reestablish her battle lines now that she understood the doctor's opinion. Pulaski shrugged mentally. If Janeway could come up with something that would change her mind, then perhaps there was more to it than she believed.

If not, then, at least, she would get a free meal out of it.

Seven felt the muscles in her arms start to twitch as she attempted to adjust the painting over the fireplace, wanting it to be perfectly aligned before she instructed the self-hooking fastening at the top of the picture to seal itself to the wall. It wasn't too heavy for her, but the mass and form were incredibly awkward, and she had difficulty holding it in place.

"Is it straight, Kathryn?" she asked, frowning when there was no response. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that her partner was staring at the painting above the Borg's head, a very odd expression on her face. "Kathryn?"

"Oh, my god."

Startled, Seven nearly lost her grip on the unwieldy frame, and she was forced to sit it on the mantle, easing it down carefully so that it was leaning against the wall. Shaking out the tension in her arms, she turned to her partner, feeling slightly annoyed at her partner's lack of assistance in hanging the birthday gift from B'Elanna and Ro.

"What is it?"

"Have you looked at this painting?" Janeway's voice was a combination of outrage and astonishment.

"Of course." Seven was puzzled. "Several times." So had the captain, not only when the gift had been opened at the party, but a great deal since that day as it remained propped against the railing in the upper loft until they had the opportunity and time to hang it in the living area. The Borg wondered what had changed that would cause her spouse to suddenly appear dismayed and ... offended? ... by the painting.

"Come over here and look at it," Janeway demanded.

Obediently, Seven complied, crossing the room to stand next to the captain. She frowned as she regarded the painting of the starship streaking across the purples, reds, greys, browns and tans of a class-two nebula, not seeing anything in particular.

"I do not understand. What is wrong, Kathryn?"

"Let your eyes go slightly out of focus as you look at it," Janeway instructed in a grim tone. "Let the background move into the foreground."

Seven did her best to follow these somewhat imprecise instructions, squinting at the picture. Suddenly she blinked and then stared, aware that her mouth had fallen open somewhat.

"Kathryn?"

"I can't believe she did that," Janeway said, appalled.

Seven blinked again. "It is..." she started, then stopped, unsure as to how she should describe it. "Us!"

Looking at the painting from a distance, and refocusing her vision, Seven could now see that the lines and shapes of the background, which she had initially perceived as nothing more than a spatial anomaly, were actually the stylistic form of two women lying sideways across the canvas ... Janeway and Seven lying together, to be precise. The image of Seven was on her back, with Janeway pressed against her side, the pair kissing passionately. The captain's hand was cupping the juncture of the Borg's legs, apparently fondling her intimately, while the young woman's hand did not cover up the captain's breast which ... as far as Seven could tell ... seemed quite correct anatomically, both in shape and size. Voyager, meanwhile, streaked across Janeway's buttocks, obscuring them from view.

"How was this managed, Kathryn?" Seven asked curiously, fascinated by the optical illusion. Now that she could see the forms of herself and her partner, she found it difficult to see it only as a nebula once more. "How can a painting be done in such a way that it looks like one thing from one viewpoint, and something completely different from another?"

"I don't know," Janeway said furiously, arms crossed over her chest, "But when I see Phoebe again, I'll be sure to ask her." The implication in her tone indicated that the 'asking' could possibly take on a physical form, rather than merely a verbal exchange.

Seven tilted her head with appreciation. "It is beautiful. Apparently, this gift is not as 'bland'. It will be more of an impressive addition to this room than I originally expected."

Janeway looked at her, startled. "You're not still thinking of hanging it there?"

Seven glanced at her. "Why not, Kathryn? It is my birthday gift, and you said I could place it there."

"But anyone who visits can see ... us ... naked ... making love," Janeway said, gesturing weakly in the general vicinity of the portrait.

"Only if they look at it properly. It took us a few weeks to discover the optical illusion. You only discovered it by accident, possibly because you were bored, and not paying as much attention to my attempts to hang it properly as you should have been."

Caught, Janeway opened her mouth, paused, then shut it firmly, her lips growing thin as they were pressed together.

"Are you ashamed of how we feel for each other?" Seven prodded quietly.

"Of course not, but I don't want those feelings spread over my fireplace for casual viewing either."

"I believe you are overreacting." The chime of the door prevented her from saying more, and she left Janeway to stare glumly at the painting while she went to answer it. Still occupied by her discussion with her partner, Seven actually needed a few seconds to recognize who the visitors were, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"Hey, Seven," Tom Paris said, his boyish features creased in a wide smile. "I hope you don't mind us dropping by like this."

Voyager's ex-helmsman was dressed in uniform, two gold pips of a senior lieutenant adorning his collar. Behind him, also in uniform, Neelix and Kes smiled broadly at the dumbfounded Borg, the Talaxian offering a small wave.

"Annika, who is it ... oh, my god!" Janeway spread her arms. "Come on in. It's so good to see you. What are you doing here?"

Seven had the presence of mind to step aside as the three entered their home, pleased by the look of happiness on Janeway's face. The captain was obviously thrilled to see her former crewmembers. Quickly drifting into the kitchen to create some snacks, Seven was grateful that, shortly after moving into the house, she had thoroughly reprogrammed the replicator to accommodate her exacting standards. With the easing of her workload at the shipyards, Janeway had begun to socialize more, inviting her fellow officers and superiors at Starfleet Command over to the house regularly, particularly through the week when Seven continued to work late. The recipes the Borg had carefully programmed into the pattern buffer not only helped Janeway in providing acceptable and tasty meals for her guests, but kept Seven from being caught short by unexpected visits, such as this one. In this manner, Seven believed she was more efficient than her mother-in-law, though she would never express such a thought to Gretchen.

"We actually came to testify at the Doctor's hearing," Neelix said as the Enterprise officers made themselves comfortable in the living room. He and Kes sat on the couch while Tom took the chair opposite them. The Talaxian's golden eyes beamed up at Seven as she placed two platters of hors d'oeuvres on the coffee table. "Thank you, Seven."

Seven dipped her head in acknowledgment, and took a seat on the arm of the chair where her partner was seated, facing the fireplace.

"When did you arrive?" Janeway asked.

"Yesterday," Tom explained. "Since we were headed to Earth anyway, Commander Riker arranged some R&R for us, which we're entitled to after having accepted immediate posting to the Enterprise at DS9. This morning, we gave depositions to the Doctor's lawyer, and she's arranged for us to stay at the Carlton Plaza until the hearing."

He munched on the vegetable pockets hungrily, and Seven decided it must have been some time since the trio had eaten. She began to make mental plans for dinner. Five ... or perhaps more? A buffet might be just the thing, in the event this turned into a party.

"Provided there is a hearing," Kes said in her melodious tones. "We're aware you have been negotiating heavily behind the scenes to avoid this unpleasantness, Captain. I know, after speaking to the Doctor, that he's very happy and relieved to have such a formidable officer on his side in this matter."

Janeway smiled faintly, coloring slightly. Seven knew the captain was pleased by the compliment, since they had been few and far between from the rest of Starfleet Command regarding the situation. Seven felt somewhat kindlier toward the Ocampa than she had since Kes had merged with Sek.

"I was simply trying to take care of my CMO." The captain glanced back at Tom. "Have you had a chance to see your father?"

Tom hesitated briefly in transferring a morsel to his mouth, but continued on and chewed it thoroughly before he responded to the question.

"Last night," he admitted shortly. "Spent the evening with the family."

Seven raised an eyebrow, curious at the odd tone in the helmsman's voice.

Janeway stared at him for a few seconds, then, as if realizing it was not something that should be discussed at the moment, she turned her smile on Neelix.

"I've been hearing good things about you, Ensign. Rumor has it that the Enterprise has the best food in the 'Fleet. You're single-handedly bringing back the concept of a mess sergeant."

Neelix blushed, his golden, spotted features turning ruddy. "Thank you, Captain. Of course, you know I owe it all to Seven. Her recipes are what convinced me that there really is a difference between Human and Talaxian taste buds."

"We told you that in year one," Tom protested.

"You weren't as convincing as she was," Neelix responded reasonably.

Tom made a face at him, and Seven realized that the two men had become friends, bonding in some way, perhaps because they had both been strangers on the Enterprise and only had each other to turn to.

"You'll stay for supper, of course," Janeway invited.

"We don't want to put you out," Tom said.

"Nonsense."

Seven lifted her head. "Perhaps if we were to contact B'Elanna and Ro?" she prodded her spouse delicately.

"Not to mention Harry and Megan, of course," Janeway agreed instantly. "Chakotay and Icheb may also be available. Then, there's the Doctor and Zimmerman. I should call Mom and Phoebe; they'd love to meet more of Voyager's crewmembers." She flashed a look at her three guests. "You stay right there. With a little luck and a few calls, we'll be able to get together a little party celebrating your return to Earth."

The trio looked a trifle disconcerted as Janeway immediately sprang from her chair and headed for the upstairs loft where the communications array was located. Seven offered them a bland smile, and mentally increased the amount of food that would be required. Definitely a buffet. The only question was what particular menu would she go with?

"Won't this be too much for you, Seven?" Kes asked, concern in her eyes.

The Borg shook her head. "It is actually easier to prepare a buffet for many than it is to prepare dinner for five. Kathryn will also assist. She has become reasonably ... domestic."

Tom looked a little dazed, but also pleased. "Do you suppose Harry and Megan will bring the little guy?"

Seven frowned and checked the time. "Unlikely. Assuming they will be able to attend, they would anticipate a late evening. They will undoubtedly arrange a sitter."

"Do you still babysit, Seven?" Neelix asked.

The Borg shook her head. "No," she said shortly, in such a way that allowed them to know it was a topic that should not be pursued. If she learned nothing else from her spouse, voice inflection had been one of the more useful lessons. She became aware of Kes observing her intently, and she turned her eyes to meet the gaze. "Yes?"

Kes frowned, as if puzzled. "Seven, you seem ... different."

Seven raised an eyebrow. "I have now spent some time living in the Federation. Is that not to be expected?"

"Yes, but..." Kes began.

"They all can come," Janeway said, interrupting the Ocampa as she came back down the stairs. "I've also invited a couple of people from Starfleet Command, just for the sake of rounding out the party. It never hurts to develop contacts, as I'm learning in the Doctor's case.

"Captain, we really appreciate this," Tom began, spreading his hands. "A party isn't what we expected, but it'll be great to see everyone again."

"We love to entertain," Janeway said, waving it off. "Certainly, we have it down to a science now. Let's move this out to the back yard. It's a lovely evening, and there's more room out there."

Obligingly, Tom, Kes and Neelix picked up their glasses, leaving behind the seriously depleted platters of hors d'oeuvres as they moved through the dining area and out the french doors leading to the back deck. By the time Seven and Janeway had them settled, other guests were arriving to greet the Enterprise trio like the old friends they were, the gathering forming itself into a comfortable exchange of quips and good times. The couple took the opportunity to return to the kitchen.

"Theme?" Seven queried her partner shortly, moving over to the replicator.

"Egyptian?" Janeway asked, frowning thoughtfully as she studied the padd containing the recipes Seven had on file. "Chinese? Mexican? Irish?"

"Mexican," Seven suggested. "Fajitas and tacos can be eaten by hand on the deck. Corn chips and salsa are good fillers. Rice with peppers as a side dish. Pastries and sherbet for dessert."

Janeway smiled fondly at her. "I'll set up the buffet."

While the captain placed a stack of plates on the island, along with utensils, napkins and condiments, Seven programmed in the necessary commands to replicate the various dishes. Soon, she had a row of platters lined up along the breakfast counter, making it easy for their guests to travel smoothly along the buffet line.

"We need more picnic tables," Janeway said, as she worked at the island, placing bowls of corn chips and various dips on a tray in order to carry them outside.

"I requested that Chakotay and Harry carry them out from the basement." Seven told her, turned away from her partner as she made sure the dishes on the counter would remain hot by placing warming trays beneath them. She was startled when she felt Janeway's arms encircle her waist from behind. "Kathryn?"

Janeway hugged her closely, resting her cheek against Seven's back. "You're absolutely wonderful, my darling," she murmured. "I hope you know how much I appreciate you adapting to my spur-of-the-moment invitations to people."

Seven smiled, closing her eyes and leaning back into the embrace for a few seconds. "I enjoy seeing our friends, as well, particularly since we no longer work together on the same starship. I am curious about the others you invited from Starfleet Command, however. Do you intend to use the gathering to further your pursuits in the Doctor's case? I know you have been working very hard to moderate a settlement of some sort."

Janeway reached up on tiptoes to kiss the Borg's jaw line as Seven turned toward her, wrapping her up in a loose embrace. "Maybe a little, but I promise to limit it. This should be a fun evening, and I won't drag it down over an issue that can't be settled tonight. In any event, I'm going to ask the Doctor to come by Utopia Planitia sometime next week. I think I have a proposal to offer him."

Seven raised an eyebrow. "What kind of proposal?"

"One that, even if he doesn't completely like it, will ease the pressure on him, and give him some more time to solidify his bid for official sentient status within the Federation," Janeway told her.

Seven tilted her head, studying the eyes of her partner. They were more grey than blue, obviously troubled, but still determined.

"You do not think he will like it?"

"No," Janeway said grimly. "But he may have to accept it."

"It could be his only hope."

Janeway appraised the schematics on the padd for a second time, and then glanced around at her staff. Comprised of the senior officers heading the teams of engineers working both on Mars, within the confines of the base, and the huge orbital docks in geo-synchronous orbit above their heads, this regular weekly meeting gave her the chance to catch up on everything that was happening within the expansive facility. The engineers didn't particularly care for what they considered an unnecessary interruption in their workweek, but the captain didn't grant much allowance for that sort of grievance. She had come into this base immediately recognizing that it needed to be organized so that it would run with the same discipline and control of a starship, rather than the free-spirited inattention of her predecessor. If some people felt their creativity was being restricted a bit, that was just too bad.

Janeway was convinced the Orion Syndicate would never have infiltrated the facility under her watch. Certainly, none of her current senior staff were allowed to indulge in personally destructive habits, such as the uncontrolled gambling that caused Jason McCord to fall under the influence of Cheb Packer, and through him, of the criminal cartel. She made a point of forming a personal connection with each of her crew chiefs, regardless of how small, and demanded that they provide the same extra attention to the members of their engineering teams. Any chief who expressed the opinion that they were there to build starships, not 'babysit' their crews, subsequently found themselves transferred to one of the starships headed away from Utopia Planitia, while officers who showed more ability for management and leadership were promoted to fill their spots.

Janeway wasn't just constructing starships on Mars, she believed she was training future captains and commanders that Starfleet so desperately needed during this trying time in the aftermath of the Dominion War.

"Captain?"

"Yes, Commander?" Janeway said, eyeing MacDougal curiously. The stocky woman was a fixture in the shipyards, having served there for years. She was in charge of the Millennium team, and the captain had found herself working in close proximity with her. She wasn't the most personable woman Janeway had ever served with, but she knew her job and did it well.

"I need to know when we can have Torres back." It wasn't the first time she had made the request, and Janeway doubted it would be the last. "She's the only one who can decipher the revisions that Brahms is continually sending down."

"I need B'Elanna on Voyager," Janeway said, and then relented a little, appreciating the woman's problem. Unlike B'Elanna, MacDougal lacked that certain flair for originality that the Klingon possessed ... and subsequently recognized in the work of Leah Brahms. "Seven of Nine can also translate the good doctor's theoretical schematics to engineering specs. I'll send a request to Dr. Brahms to assign Seven to the Millennium project, at least until the final installation of the transition drive has been completed."

She took note of the expressions that crossed a variety of faces and raised her eyebrow. "Problems?"

MacDougal dipped her head, a frown forming. "Is she ... familiar with this kind of work?" Janeway sensed that the question didn't reflect what the engineer was feeling, but had been the only diplomatic thing she could think to say.

"Seven was Borg," Janeway said, clamping down on the anger that rose within her. Her senior staff had been used to Seven on Voyager ... here in the Federation, the young woman was still very much an unknown. The captain knew people feared the unknown, and with an effort, she forced a small smile. "Don't tell me that Starfleet engineers afraid of working with someone who's technologically advanced?"

"Depends on the advances," Lt. Brighton spoke up dryly. He was the propulsion specialist on the Millennium. "I heard from a technician at the TPG that she once threatened to assimilate Admiral Nechayev."

The rest of the engineers all looked at each other with varying degrees of amusement and uneasiness, and Janeway stifled a sigh, resolving to have another little chat with her spouse about making imprudent remarks in public. She took a breath and glanced at MacDougal. "I'll see what I can do about getting you some help, one way or another, but I do think Seven is your best option."

"Yes, Captain," the engineer said, not particularly happy about it. "Thank you."

Janeway lifted her chin. "If there's no further business, you're dismissed."

The engineers all got up en mass and headed for the door, as if eager to escape. Janeway supposed she couldn't blame them, grinning ruefully to herself as she gathered up her padds.

"Captain?"

Janeway glanced over as Ro entered the conference room, and raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"The Doctor and his legal counsel are here. I put them in your office until the staff meeting was finished."

"Have they been waiting long?" Janeway scooped up her padds and tucked them under her arm.

"Only about five minutes."

"Good. Laren, I want you to sit in on this meeting. I'm not sure how it's going to go, and perhaps you could offer something constructive to the whole situation."

"Thank you, Captain," Ro said. "I'll do my best."

Janeway didn't know how close the Bajoran was to the EMH, but she believed that Ro would have the same concern for a crewmate that any of them experienced. Certainly, it would be useful to have the lieutenant's input.

The Doctor and his legal counsel were sitting somewhat impatiently in her office, and the captain offered them a smile. "Sorry to keep you waiting." She nodded at Samantha, a slender young woman with dark hair and eyes. "Nice to see you again, Miss Cogley."

Samantha dipped her head. "Janeway."

Janeway supposed it was an improvement over 'Red'.

"I know you're both wondering why I asked you to meet me, and I won't waste any of your time," Janeway said, settling down behind her desk. "I've been speaking extensively with various contacts in Starfleet Medical, and I think I've been able to arrange a compromise for you."

The Doctor and the lawyer exchanged a glance.

"Compromise?" he echoed. "What sort of compromise?"

Janeway hesitated, discovering this was more difficult for her to say than she had anticipated. "Doctor, I honestly don't believe you can win this hearing. If you don't, we both know that your matrix could be deactivated before your lawyer can file an appeal. This isn't a civil case, it's an internal organizational matter, and they'll move swiftly in that event if you are declared the property of Starfleet Medical."

The Doctor looked devastated. "You don't believe I'm sentient."

Janeway felt her heart twinge. "It doesn't matter what I believe." It came out more harshly than she had intended. She took a breath, and deliberately softened her tone. "Doctor, if it comes down to evidence, I think that Starfleet Medical can prove, purely on technical terms, that you're a hologram, whereas all you have to prove you're sentient, is ... well, a perception of certain events. You might win on that basis, but would the sentiment of the judiciary council be something you really want to rely on?"

The Doctor started to respond, outraged, and Sam put her hand on his arm, restraining him. "Let's hear her out."

He looked at her for a moment, then subsided, looking dissatisfied.

"Doctor, it's possible that if you, instead, follow a line of evidence of being a unique hologram which can only be studied by the foremost authority on holographic research in the Federation," she offered, "that would be a compromise Starfleet Medical could live with."

"Dr. Zimmerman." The Doctor considered that. "But I would still be ... Starfleet property."

"But Zimmerman's ... 'control' in that regard would be more in the form of a guardianship than an ownership, correct?"

The Doctor clearly looked unhappy and Janeway stifled her sigh. "Doctor, I realize this may not be what you hoped for, but it may be the best that can be arranged." She turned her attention to Samantha. "Unless you feel you have a good chance of winning outright?"

Samantha hesitated, then glanced at the Doctor. He stared back at her, his face crumpling. "You don't think you can win," he said, a statement rather than a question, his voice breaking slightly.

"I'm going to do my absolute best, Doctor," Sam told him earnestly. "Certainly, I believe I can win, and have you declared independent of Starfleet, which would be the first step to you becoming a Federation citizen, but I won't lie to you ... it's an all or nothing proposition that we're dealing with here. I would be remiss as your counsel if I didn't make sure you knew that if I don't win this hearing, you could be gone before I could make an appeal. Don't get me wrong, such an action would piss me off royally, and I'd go after them with every legal option I had. Starfleet Medical would end up paying through the nose eventually, but the problem is, you wouldn't be around to enjoy it." She paused, taking a deep breath. "It's my professional advice that you should, at least, consider the offer, but I'm ready to do whatever you want." She looked back at the captain. "This is a valid offer, right? Not just wistful thinking on your part?"

"Dr. Romanoff, a doctor with the rank of admiral, has indicated that he'd be willing to accept such a compromise. His opinion carries a lot of weight within the admini