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COMPLEXION Author: Llachlan Series: Voyager/DS9 - after Voyager's Return Code: E/7 Rating: R Disclaimer: The characters from Star Trek: The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine and Star Trek Voyager are the property of Paramount Studios, and I am knowingly violating their copyright but mean no harm. Summary: Voyager has returned from the Delta Quadrant and her crew has some settling in to do. One crewmember in particular is about to make a connexion that will change her life. Notes: This is the second story in the Nexus Series. It is unconnected to Trigonometry.
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Kathyrn Janeway
watched the door to the conference room. One by one, each member
of the senior staff had entered. Ensign Harry Kim, as usual, was
first through into his chair. His features had lost some of their
youthful glow, but his eyes still sparkled. That was one of her real
accomplishments; that after seven years Harry's innocence and
enthusiasm had only been tempered by experience, not destroyed by it. Tom and B'Elanna had entered next, the tiniest member of the House cradled in the Engineers arms. Another miracle, three of them really, though she supposed Miral Torres-Paris was merely the visible fruit of a seed long planted. Chakotay followed
closely on their heels, warm eyes taking in the other occupants, then a
small frown had creased his forehead, wrinkling the tribal tattoo, as
he'd glanced at Seven's empty chair. She'd shrugged her
shoulders, as surprised as her first officer that the former Drone had
yet to appear. The Doctor slipped
in, his face set, hiding she thought, his fear and confusion. His
world was about to change. Still, Seven had yet
to arrive. "Computer, locate
Seven of Nine." "I am here, Captain."
The words were nearly simultaneous with the computer's response.
"Seven of Nine is in Briefing room 2." "You're late."
Janeway hoped that she was more successful at keeping the
annoyance she felt from flashing across her face than Chakotay.
Maybe they'd had another run in, though she'd thought they had
come to an understanding. Rumours had even circulated that they
had been dating. Maybe her alternate self had had the right of
it, the relationship, whatever it had become in the future hadn't been
solid to start with. "Alright people." She put Seven on
hold for the moment and pushed ahead with her agenda. They were
back in the Alpha quadrant and there would be time to figure out what
to do next. She continued
speaking, "I've got confirmation of our orders. We are to
maintain station-keeping for the next 48 hours. That will give
Starfleet time to complete assigning accommodations, back pay, and
whatever else Starfleet deems necessary." "Then...?" Tom
asked. Janeway shook her
head. "I don't know." Their return was as unexpected, as
unprecedented and as unconventional as the crew itself. She'd
expected pandemonium, and instead the room had gone silent, guarded
expressions replacing bright hope. Perversely, the Doctor had
relaxed. "I've had no official
word on how long the debriefing with take, but I'm given to understand
that everyone will be taken care of." She held up a hand.
"I have been asked to ensure that the crew remain aboard
Voyager," Janeway swung her gaze to Seven, who met it calmly, "until
after tomorrow night's official reception." The directive had
come from Admiral Necheyev, delivered in sharp tones that left Janeway
feeling like a green cadet. It had had to be Seven, she turned
away from the Borg, and back to the room. Of course, it had
been Seven, no one else would have dared. She could almost hear
the justification Seven would offer. She was not Star Fleet, nor
was she Maquis - and the original orders had been framed in that
context. That Seven knew better was not in question, she'd failed
to clarify the order, taking the young woman's recent compliance for
granted. One thing was for
sure, it was going to be worth the price of admission to see what havoc
Seven would wreck on the ordered world of StarFleet. She dismissed the
meeting. "Seven, a word please." Chakotay made motions to
stay as well, but she waved him off. "Captain." "I hear you had a
little adventure yesterday." Janeway leaned back against the
table, surprised at Seven's seeming lack of reaction. The Borg
was hard to read at the best of times, but Janeway liked to think that
she knew the young woman well enough to interpret most of her
expressions. She studied Seven. Her blonde hair was down,
and she looked...defiant. "I had an
appointment." "I'm aware of that.
But just so there are no further misunderstandings, you are not
to leave Voyager without my explicit permission. Is that clear?" Something flashed
across Seven's face. "Yes, Captain." "Good.
Dismissed." It wasn't until Seven
had left the room and she was straining to hear the characteristic
pattern of the Borg's footsteps retreating down the hall, that she
realized Seven had changed her shoes. ~~~ Seven stood, hands
clasped neatly behind her back, and ignored the side long glances she
was getting from the security officer stationed by the door.
Obviously, the Captain was taking no chances that another of
Voyager's crew would leave the ship. She realized that she
was probably the only one who had thought to leave Voyager, a minimum
of seven years of Star Fleet training had led the rest of the crew to
obey the spirit of the Captain's original directive. The transporter
shimmered to life. Seven allowed herself a small smile.
Fortunately, Ezri Dax was a resourceful individual.
Particles coalesced, following the dictates of the pattern
buffer, revealing the humanoid form of the Trill Counselor. The
carryall from the previous evening was slung over her left shoulder,
resting against a hip, while several small stasis containers rested in
both of the brunette's hands. Seven's enhanced
olfactory systems detected a sharp aroma, but she was unable to
identify the contents. "Counselor Ezri Dax," she said, in
greeting. "Hello." The
woman looked around the room and smiled at both the Transporter Chief
and the Security Officer, before favouring her with a quirked eyebrow. She tapped her
communicator. "Seven of Nine to the bridge." "Janeway. Go
ahead Seven." "The Counselor has
arrived." She was satisfied that human ears would not be able to
detect the small change in her tone. "Excellent."
The Captain's reply came through the ship wide com system rather
than her com badge. "Welcome aboard Lt. Dax." "Thank you, Captain." "It's our pleasure.
Seven will show you to the VIP quarters and arrange for the tour
you requested." Seven was intrigued
by her response to the duplicitous nature of their interactions.
She knew the Captain was displeased that the Counselor had
requested to come aboard, she was also aware that while the Captain
felt conducting a tour of the ship was a punishment for her
transgression, the opposite was true. Every time her eyes met
Ezri's she could feel the heat of her skin increase, only the ever
vigilant nanoprobes concealing her reaction. It occurred to her
that she could, if she desired, be skilled at dissembling. Her
body betrayed few of the signals most humans looked for as signs of
deceit. Ezri winked at her
before replying. "That seems acceptable Captain." "Good. Janeway out." This time when Ezri
smiled, it was the full faced grin Seven remembered from the night
before. The grin that promised that something delightful was
going to happen. "Shall we?" They left the
transporter room and stepped out into the hall, crossing almost
immediately to the turbo lift. "Deck 3." Ezri leaned against
the side of the lift. "I hope you like take-out." Seven looked the
brunette up and down, careful to keep her expression neutral, curious
to see how her attempt at humour would be received. "Indeed." Ezri's spots darkened. Seven was gratified
to discover that she had been wrong. The Borg had not removed her
sense of humour after all. ~~~~ If the dishes in her
hands wouldn't have made an unforgivable mess on the floor she would
have dropped them the second they'd entered the turbo lift.
Instead she held onto them, and only thought about kissing Seven. "I want to kiss you." "Then you have eight
point three seconds to do so." Fortunately, Seven also obliged
her by leaning in. "What happens in
eight point three seconds?" She spoke against the soft full lips,
amazed by the sensations the vibrations caused. "The doors open." "Ah." They
continued to kiss, even after the door had slid open. "Ezri." "Yes." She used her
tongue to flick an edge of Seven's lips. Whatever the other
woman had been about to say or do was lost as she suddenly straightened
and stepped back a pace, moments before a man in medical blue walked
around the corner. "Ah, Seven, there you
are. And this must be our guest." Instantly, the woman
she'd met disappeared, leaving behind a shell standing at almost rigid
attention. "Ezri Dax." She held out her hand, introducing
herself. Ezri recognized him as the holographic doctor, but felt
there was no need to be rude. "I'm Voyager's CMO."
He interjected his body into the space between theirs, "I can
take it from here Seven." He was probably the
more appropriate choice, since counseling was a subspecialty of the
medical profession, but she wanted to see Voyager through Seven's eyes.
"Let me just get rid of these, then why don't we all go?"
She looked over at the blonde, and received a small nod in response. They started in the
mess hall - though the Doctor had wanted to start in sickbay.
Ezri guessed that he wanted to make himself part of the
repatriation process in order to prove his value. Like Voyager,
he was facing possible decommissioning, if not outright deactivation.
She put aside the train of thought and focused instead on her
lover. Seven had lost all
vestiges of openness. Tension was radiating from her, and, as
near as Ezri could determine, the tension level in each room they
visited increased the moment someone spotted Seven.
Finally, she decided they'd had enough. "Thank you
for your time, Doctor, but I've got somethings to check before my first
appointments in the morning. If you'll excuse us?" Used to
dealing with Quark, she turned her body away from him as she spoke,
effectively preventing him from objecting. The walk back to her
assigned quarters was devoid of conversation, and she was too deep in
thought to try and break the impasse before they arrived at their
destination. The crew of Voyager were treating Seven much the way
that she often saw Bajorans treat Cardassians on DS9. It wasn't
hate exactly, but it was close enough make the difference irrelevant.
She couldn't imagine the strength of will it took Seven to deal
with that kind of hostility day in and day out; no place to go, nowhere
to hide, the tiny ship her scaled down universe. They reached their
destination and Ezri triggered the door, gesturing Seven to enter
first, half afraid that if she didn't the other woman would leave. Giving Seven a minute
to collect herself, Ezri looked around the room she'd been assigned.
It was decorated subtly, and she was surprised to see a piano
dominating one corner of the room. She spotted the food
containers and decided to layout the meal and see where things went
from there. ~~~ Seven put her fork
down. The food seemed devoid of flavour and she was having
difficulty swallowing. Across the low table, Ezri was exhibiting
similar signs of discomfort. The ease with which they has
interacted earlier was gone, and Seven wondered if it had been chased
away by the reminders that she was Borg. She tried but failed to
find the words with which to banter, or to even start a conversation.
Perhaps she had been in error, and this was a mistake. "Hey. You okay?" "I'm functioning
within normal parameters." "Well, you don't seem
fine." Seven considered how
to respond, regretting her stilted automatic response to Ezri's
overture. "I believe I am experiencing anxiety." To her surprise, Ezri
smiled and nodded. "Me too," she said softly. They were silent
again for a while, wine glasses replacing eating utensils. She
felt more comfortable with this silence than the earlier one. She
decided to reduce her universe to this one room, to the two of them.
Voyager was irrelevant. "I believe I am also experiencing
anticipation," she paused. "I do not know the proper protocol to
follow. I am unsure of how to proceed." Ezri's eyes darkened
slightly, taking on violet hues, and to Seven she appeared pensive.
"Well, if the universe was going to end in the next hour what one
thing would you want to do."
Ezri rejoined her on
the bed, lying on her back, expression expectant. "I believe you
were here." Seven's hand was guided to the spot in question.
The next story in the
series will be JUXTAPOSTION
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