Parts 5 - 8
Disclaimer: Well, everyone knows the song, so I won't bore you by repeating it. Not Mine. Mighty Paramount. No disrespect. Resistance is Futile... wait... strike that last one. Morgan Dalton, however, is my own creation, with a little creative theft in the form of her mutant abilities. Yes... I stole shamelessly from a Marvel X-Men comic book for that.
Ratings and Warnings: NC-17. Well, first warning has to do with f/f sexual situations. Yes there are a few graphic descriptions of two consenting adult women engaged in hot monkey love. The second warning has to do with this being the first time I have attempted Voyager fiction in a looooong time. Yes... since before Seven of Nine ever showed up. Not to mention that this is the first time I've ever crossed to the 'Dark Side'. Namely B'Elanna/Seven romance. There is also some Janeway/f at some point, but we'll cross that handcuff... err... bridge, when we cum... err... come to it.
Comments to katelin_b@hotmail.com
That being said... on with the show.
Chapter Five
B'Elanna groaned softly as she woke, pushing herself away from the console in front of the pilot's chair. Her head was pounding like the drums of Kahless, and she muzzily wondered what had happened, while leaning heavily on the backrest. It was obvious that the Delta Flyer had crashed, but the engineer couldn't remember what happened to cause it. The last thing she recalled was making rather boring passes over the wasteland, and becoming more and more annoyed at the ex-Borg, who was her companion on the away mission.
"Seven?" she called out weakly, when her fuzzy brain wrapped around the concept that she wasn't alone on the Flyer.
"I am here," came the soft reply from somewhere behind the Klingon.
"Are you all right?" B'Elanna questioned, struggling to shift the chair around for a better look. It was easier than moving her battered body, that ached in places she didn't know existed.
"I am... functioning," Seven replied, shifting her grip on the bulkhead she had grabbed when the Delta Flyer crashed. She was disturbed that her cybernetic left hand didn't seem to be obeying her cortical implant's commands to let go.
"Are you hurt?" B'Elanna said, finally twisting her head far enough to see the ex-Borg lying on the floor.
"I am not certain," Seven answered honestly, "My implants are not functioning properly." In truth, some of them weren't functioning at all. Her lower back was numb where the nerves connected to her spinal implants, and her long legs were nothing but dead weight.
B'Elanna muttered a soft curse in Klingonese, and pushed herself out of the chair. She swayed for a moment, checking her balance to be sure she wouldn't fall before attempting to move any further. Reaching under the co-pilot console, she pulled a medkit across the floor and sat down beside the prone woman. "You can let go of the bulkhead, Seven," the engineer informed her, trying to lighten the situation with humor, "I think we've stopped moving for now."
"I have tried, Lt. Torres," Seven snapped, not accustomed to being helpless.
"Okay," B'Elanna soothed, "Relax. It was just a joke."
"I do not see the humor in this situation," the ex-Borg informed her, trying again to free her hand from the bulkhead.
B'Elanna didn't answer, too involved in the tricorder readings she was receiving from Seven's implants. "Seven," she commented after a long moment, "Half of your Borg systems have depolarized. And it looks like your nanoprobes aren't detecting the damage, because there's no signal going to them from your cortical implant."
"It was probably caused by the EMP that disabled the Delta Flyer," Seven concluded, finally giving up on trying to pry her fingers off the bulkhead with her human hand.
"EMP?" B'Elanna repeated, "Is that what brought us down?" She still had no memory of the event, more than likely a result hitting her head on the console when they crashed.
"The sensors registered the projectile detonating before it hit us," the ex-Borg said, shifting around as best she could to look at the engineer, "There was a strong Electro-Magnetic surge around the Delta Flyer just before the systems went offline. That is also when I lost control of my implants." She spat the last part in disgust, hating that she needed to rely on the Klingon woman that clearly didn't like her. She hated being dependant on anyone, but the fact that it was the only member of Voyager's crew she had ever come to blows with, made it even worse.
"Let's see if we can get at least a few of your systems repolarized," B'Elanna muttered, now in full engineer mode, "The nanoprobes should take over from there." She looked around for a hyper spanner idly, trying to piece together what the EMP had done to the shuttle systems, and how she was going to fix them after she got Seven back on her feet.
Seven observed the engineer's off kilter position and forgot her own problem. "Lt., you are injured," she stated matter-of-factly, "You must treat yourself."
"Got it," B'Elanna muttered, finding the tool she was searching for and checking to make sure it was still functioning. It hadn't been active when the EMP hit the Flyer, so its circuits were still intact. "It's just a headache, Seven," she said, adjusting the frequency of the spanner and applying it to Seven's spinal implant through a tear in her biosuit, "I'll be fine for the few minutes it will take me to get you up and running again." While it worked, she used her free hand to unzip the back of Seven's biosuit, so that she would be able to reach the rest of the damaged implants.
Seven jerked as the tingle of electric current shot through her spine from the implant's reactivation. It didn't hurt as much as it was surprising. Almost immediately she felt the connection to her cortical implants, and knew that the nanoprobes were racing to repair the shorts that had occurred. "Did I hurt you?" B'Elanna asked quietly, halting her work.
"It is only minor discomfort, Lt.," Seven replied, trying to make her body relax, "Please complete your work. I will try to remain still."
B'Elanna opened her mouth to say something more, but then shook her head and scowled, pulling the spanner back and affixing it to a smaller implant to the left of the spine. She tried her best to ignore the woman's smooth, muscular back as it shifted and flexed under her touch, focusing instead on the purpose of each implant as she restored polarity to them. She knew the two small implants on either side of Seven's spine where for clearing her kidney's and intestines of organic waste. B'Elanna had never seen the ex-Borg eat more than a taste of something to sample its flavor, but whatever she did ingest, those implants broke down completely.
"Okay, Seven," B'Elanna finally said, tearing her eyes away from the ex-Borg's fair skin, "Let me just reactivate your arm and you'll be all set." She reached over the prone woman and pulled the biosuit back from her wrist, but couldn't see the circuit panel. "Um, where's the port for your arm, Seven," she asked, pulling the sleeve even higher.
"It is located under my clavicle," Seven replied helpfully, onto her side, and then falling onto her back. She flexed her legs, pleased to have her mobility restored, and rose to her knees. Though her legs were still shaky, Seven managed to hold her balance long enough to pull the front of her unzipped biosuit down far enough off her left shoulder for B'Elanna to see the small implant resting below her clavicle.
"Uh, thanks, Seven," the engineer forced out, clicking the spanner into place and hitting the button. Seven jerked suddenly, her face screwing up into a grimace of pain, as the cybernetic arm jerked and released the bulkhead, only to spasm violently. "Whoa!" B'Elanna squeaked, pulling the spanner away just as the strong left arm impacted her ribs.
Seven gasped in shock and then fell back, clutching her shoulder as the arm continued to spasm. Several sparks shot from the port at her shoulder and the ex-Borg cried out in pain. The instant the spanner had fed power into the arm, Seven knew it was severely damaged from the crash. She had hoped the nanoprobes would begin repairing it, but even before her cortical implant could send the command, the entire limb had shorted out.
B'Elanna started back when Seven cried out, but almost immediately regained her equilibrium. She rapidly revered the polarity of the spanner and leapt on top of the ex-Borg to hold her still, jamming the instrument back into the port, trying to ignore the woman's scream of agony as she did. "Hold tight," she muttered, more to herself than the thrashing woman. A few quickly changed settings, and the ordeal was over.
Seven slumped down with a quiet whimper, her arm dead once again. The remembered pain, and aching in her shoulder, caused tears to stream down her face and she turned her head to the side in a futile attempt to hide her emotion from the Klingon.
B'Elanna pulled the spanner away as gently as possible, but it still jostled the young woman, making her squeak one last time. She pressed her hands to the floor in a motion to lever herself off the ex-Borg, when she finally noticed the tears. "Seven," she said softly, pushing herself up and to the side, "Tell me where it hurts."
"I am functioning," she stated automatically, though her voice broke from the pain. She didn't want to show the frailty of this inferior human body in front of the Klingon.
"I can see that, Borg," the engineer snapped, frowning deeply, "But if you're in pain I can give you a shot from the medkit. You won't be any use to us if you can't stop crying." B'Elanna regretted the words the minute they left her mouth, but knew she couldn't take them back. She's hurt you idiot, the woman berated herself silently, wanting to slam her ridges into some hard immobile object.
"I am fine," Seven snapped, suddenly infuriated with the woman. She lifted up and shoved the engineer off with her human arm. The movement caused her to shift the wrong way however, and she fell back to the deck with a cry, clutching at her left shoulder.
"Whoa," B'Elanna fell back and was about to make a snide and hurtful comment, when she saw Seven crash back to the deck. The words died on her lips instantly and she rushed forward, laying a hand on the ex-Borg's stomach to steady her. "Easy, Seven," she soothed, rubbing her hand in slow circles on woman's tight stomach as her free hand rummaged through the medkit looking for a hypospray, "God I'm an idiot. I'm sorry, Seven, this is my fault."
She found what she was looking for and punched in the correct dose, she hoped. Pressing it to Seven's neck she hit the injector and watched the vial go down about a third. Several long moments passed before it took effect, the woman's tears slowing noticeably as the pain was washed away with the drug. B'Elanna watched the ex-Borg carefully, her hand still rubbing the woman's stomach in a soothing motion.
Seven's eyes were glassy and red when she fixed them on the engineer, but at least the tears had stopped. "Sorry," she said muzzily, blinking up at B'Elanna, "I didn't mean to hit you."
B'Elanna peered down at the blonde woman and noticed how unfocused her vision was. "Guess I used too much," she said to Seven apologetically, "Why don't you close your eyes for a while. You'll feel better in no time."
Seven let out a heavy sigh and frowned at B'Elanna. "I can help," she grumbled, trying to swat at the other woman; an attempt that failed miserably because of the heavy painkiller running through her system. "Don't wanna sleep." B'Elanna watched in amusement as the woman struggled valiantly to keep her eyes open, but it just wasn't working. Within moments, Seven was out cold and snoring softly.
~~~
"I appreciate your concern for your officers, Captain," First Minister Jorai stated diplomatically over the com channel in her Ready Room. "But I don't know what exactly you expect me to do about it."
Janeway blinked incredulously at him for a long moment. "Perhaps assist us in mounting a rescue?" she commented, waving a hand in the air haphazardly, "Or at the very least, perhaps any more information on the terrain that might be of use to us while we send our own people in."
"I am reluctant to allow you to put any more of your officers at risk, Captain," Jorai said quietly, "But I do understand that you simply can't abandon them." He laced his fingers together and sighed. "I have given you everything on the area that I know exists, but I will keep looking. If I find anything I will contact you immediately."
"Thank you, First Minister," Janeway said politely, with a nod of her head.
"I wish you the best of luck in the speedy recovery of your people," he bowed his head, and the image turned black as the transmission was cut from the source.
"Thanks for nothing," the captain muttered, slumping back in her chair. The First Minister had been her last hope short of sending down another shuttle to search for the Delta Flyer. He had been right in the fact that she was against sending another away team when she didn't know what had happened to the first. But it was looking more and more like she didn't have a choice.
Harry Kim had been able to modify the sensors enough to determine that something had happened to the Delta Flyer. That much was certain. The surge in tetrion particles was undoubtedly from the little ship's plasma manifolds, but how they had been damaged was still unknown.
There was still no sign of any weapon's fire, just some sort Electro-magnetic disturbance. That tweaked the captain's nerves as well. Janeway seemed to remember something she heard long ago about Electro-Magnetic signatures in the academy, but she couldn't pin point it.
"Captain Janeway to the Bridge."
Janeway jerked slightly at the summons, so deep was she in thought that everything else was forgotten. Rising from her desk, she tugged her uniform jacket straight and put on her game face. That slight scowl she wore on the Bridge, that everyone saw while she was on duty. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for whatever news was coming, and left the Ready Room.
"Report," she snapped, striding to her chair and sitting down.
"Captain," Chakotay said as he tapped a few commands into his terminal and turned to face her, "Mr. Kim had discovered something rather interesting."
"Really?" Janeway commented, "On screen." At her command, the view screen flickered and a hazy scan of the wasteland appeared, magnified 50 times. It was a far greater distance out than was useful for any close scrutiny, and she wondered what her young officer could possibly have found. "What am I looking for, Mr. Kim?" she called, not at all in the mood for guessing games.
A grid was immediately overlaid on the screen and a section was highlighted. "Magnifying Grid reference H-35," Kim reported, and the section suddenly filled the screen, "See the fuzziness in the upper left hand section, Captain?"
Janeway did indeed see it. "That's the Electro-Magnetic disturbance you registered earlier?" she questioned, leaning forward in her chair. She knew from the earlier report that it was the same place the tetrion surge had originated, and also the last known position of the Delta Flyer.
"It's an EMP, Captain." Mr. Kim said instantly.
"Electro-Magnetic Pulse," she murmured, suddenly remembering why the readings had bothered her as the history classes on military tactics came flooding back to her. "That's what took out the shuttle?" she asked, leaning back in her command chair.
"Yes Captain," Kim reported, "Given the size of the pulse, and the Delta Flyer's projected path, with this new information, we've been able to narrow down their location zone of twenty square kilometers."
"Excellent work, Mr. Kim," Janeway praised, slapping her hand down on the arm of her chair. She stood and faced the crew. "I want a rescue plan formulated and ready to go as soon as possible. We don't know how many more of those EMP's are out there, so keep that in mind." She stepped up to Lt. Kim's console and looked him right in the eye. "This was good work," she said quietly, "But we're going to need more. Whatever it takes. Change the sensors any way you can. Just narrow that search area to 10 square kilometers."
"Aye, Captain," he said very quietly, his expression one of stone. She knew he would find a way to do it, whatever it took. She clapped him on the chest, and smiled, turning back to address the crew.
"Let's bring our people home."
Chapter Six
B'Elanna cussed softly yet again, and ran a hand over her face. She had been trying to fix the com system for 3 hours, while occasionally checking on Seven. Despite all her engineering knowledge, she couldn't use a little spanner to repair shorted out plasma conduits. The entire shuttle had become just like the scrap they had been scanning. Not even scavenging what few working parts she could find could be combined into anything of worth. Her last hope was the locator beacon, knowing that it didn't activate unless the shuttle crashed. But without the console working, she was going to have to peel back the duranium plating and activate it manually.
Taking a brief break, B'Elanna gulped some water from a canteen she found in the emergency rations, and crouched down to check on Seven's status. Running the tricorder over the ex-Borg's prone form, she was happy to see that the woman was resting comfortably. Focusing on her shoulder, however, gave her pause. Spasms from the short circuit had torn almost all of the ligaments and literally cooked several of the muscles in her upper arm. While everything below Seven's elbow was cybernetic, her upper arm to the shoulder was partly organic, and unfortunately that's where the short had started.
"She's gonna be hurting when she wakes up," B'Elanna muttered to herself, flexing her shoulders. She looked at the medkit, wondering if she should attempt to change the dose of painkillers in preparation of Seven waking up. A soft groan reached her ears, and the engineer's head shot up.
"Seven?" she said softly, laying a hand back on the ex-Borg's stomach, to ground her. She wondered if the woman even understood the meaning of her touch, or if she would simply dismiss it as irrelevant as she did so many things.
The implant over Seven's left eye lowered as the groggy woman frowned. B'Elanna leaned forward, concern marring her features. "Open your eyes, Seven," she said, giving the woman's stomach a gentle shake.
"Hurts," Seven rasped, and then swallowed around a dry throat. She hadn't experienced pain of this magnitude in her human form, and didn't know how to cope with it. The tears began again, against her will and trickled silently down her alabaster cheeks. "B'Elanna," she pleaded softly, reaching up with her human arm and covering the smaller hand on her belly.
"Okay, sweetie, hold on," the engineer readjusted the hypospray settings and pressed it to Seven's neck, "Just relax and take deep breaths." The injector hissed quietly and after several breathless moments, she felt the woman's tense muscles ease. Kahless, she cursed quietly, did I just call her sweetie? B'Elanna groaned quietly and rolled her eyes internally. She just prayed that Seven hadn't picked up on it.
"Better," the ex-Borg rasped, taking big gulping breaths. She didn't release B'Elanna's hand however, comforted by it, though she didn't know why. "I require... liquid refreshment," she said after a long moment, blinking up at B'Elanna's fuzzy image.
The engineer nodded and reached for her fallen canteen, holding it to Seven's lips and supporting her head. The woman only got one mouthful before the pain of her shifting arm made her choke, and she fell away coughing. B'Elanna lowered her back down and looked around, wondering what she could use to make a sling of some kind so that Seven had a little more mobility without having to force down the pain that she was experiencing.
She finally decided her uniform jacket was the only thing available to her, and pulled it off. As she tore the fabric into workable strips, the engineer gauged Seven's reaction to the painkillers. She wanted to make sure she had given enough to cut the pain, but still allow her to function. B'Elanna didn't want to knock the ex-Borg out again, but she would if there was no other option. Besides, it's not like they were going to be stranded for long. Janeway was probably already looking for them, and they would be back on the ship before nightfall.
"Seven, I need to be sitting up," B'Elanna commented, reaching down to help the ex-Borg maneuver without shifting too much.
Seven bit her lip as she moved with the engineer's hands, her right arm in a vise like grip around her elbow keeping it still, while her dead cybernetic hand rested in her lap. "What is the purpose of this activity?" the blonde woman gasped, fighting to keep the tears at bay. Now that the second shot of painkillers had kicked in, she was finding it easier to hold back the throbbing from her damaged arm.
"I need to immobilize your arm," B'Elanna said quietly, looping two strips of fabric around Seven's lower arm, at her wrist and just below her elbow. She tied them off in a tight cuff and then joined the two with a third loop that she prepared to go around Seven's neck. "I need to lift this arm, Seven," she said, being very careful to just move the arm below the woman's elbow, "Bow your head."
Seven gasped, gritting her teeth as B'Elanna moved her injured arm. "I will comply," she ground out, dropping her head, and feeling the fabric forced over her head to rest at the base of her neck. She let out a heaving breath as the engineer released her arm, letting it rest against the makeshift sling. It was surprisingly comfortable, and kept her damaged shoulder from moving more than necessary. Seven frowned slightly as she examined her pain levels, wondering if the sling would be enough once she began moving about the cabin to restore the systems.
"Lift your right arm, Seven," B'Elanna said softly, holding up another long strip of fabric, "I'm going to stabilize the entire thing."
Seven blinked at her but did as she was told, lifting her right arm away from her body. She watched in appreciative awe as B'Elanna's keen engineering mind worked, deciding where best to strap the arm. She remained silent as the remaining strap of fabric was looped around her rib cage, and pulled snug in a knot that squeezed her upper arm against her body.
B'Elanna leaned back and watched Seven test the odd looking sling. She smiled when the ex-Borg looked up in mild surprise and commented. "It is efficient."
"Glad you approve," the engineer remarked with a smile, "Can you try to get up or do you need a few more minutes?"
"What is the status of our systems?" Seven asked immediately, not really willing to admit her human frailty made her weak. The engineer however, noticed anyway, and accepted that they would sit for a while longer. As she laid out what systems had been damaged and destroyed, the Klingon watched Seven test her sling several times. It was an unconscious reaction, the mind worried on some level that the support she knew was there would fail like a breached containment field, and the pain would return.
"I was about to activate the emergency beacon," B'Elanna commented, wiping her hands on her uniform pants, "But I have to cut through the plating to do it by hand." She shifted and stood, looking down at the reclined woman.
"I will assist you," Seven said without hesitation, reaching up for a helping hand. B'Elanna helped her off the floor and into the tactical station chair.
"The targeting sensors are still working," the engineer explained as she tapped in a command over Seven's shoulder and then looked at the flickering station. There had been no need for the station to be powered when they were searching the wasteland, so its circuits were still relatively undamaged. She paused for a second and then slammed her fist down on the panel, watching the flicker steady out and power up completely. "The phasers are still working," she said, looking down over Seven's shoulder at her, "I need you to watch our backs while I access the locator beacon. Once it's up, we'll rotate the watch." They hadn't thought the phasers would be needed, but something had fired at them, and neither woman was in a hurry too let that happen again.
"I will comply," Seven nodded, turning towards the panel and running her free hand over the keys. The screen came to life with a thermal graph of the surrounding area and she focused on it, looking for any sign of movement near the fallen shuttle.
B'Elanna made sure the ex-Borg was working steadily and crouched down under the com panel, tearing out scorched wires and ruptured gel packs. She had already done several scans of the area, knowing there was nothing but faint energy readings coming from one of the junk piles. Seven needed something to keep her focus away from her shoulder, even if it was looking for more sensor ghosts.
~~~
Back on Voyager, Lt. Kim was scanning the same area, running over the Delta Flyer, though he didn't know it. He understood the mechanics of an EMP, and that it would knock out any electrical system that was running power at the time of contact, but the problem with his search was that he didn't know what systems on the shuttle had been running. He knew sensors would be down, and also propulsion, but beyond that he couldn't be sure. It was probable that Lt. Torres would try to get the systems back online so she could activate the locator beacon, but if everything fried in the EMP, then she would have to do it manually.
Repeated attempts to hail them had proven futile as well. Understanding the com system, he knew that even their com badges would have shorted out, and been completely beyond repair. Kim checked the sensors yet again and sighed. There was no way he could narrow the search area any further than he had. Not without something more to go on. He had to wait, just like everyone else, for the away team to think of some way to signal them. All he could do was watch the sensors for something out of the ordinary.
A task he knew would be much easier if Paris wasn't going on about his worry for B'Elanna. The helmsman was annoying everyone on the Bridge with his comments about how he would welcome the engineer back. Candle lit dinners and flowers, time on the holodeck with her. Harry had heard it so many times now that he could recite in tandem with Paris every time he opened his mouth.
It bothered him on more than one level. He knew from his talks with the engineer that she wasn't very happy with their waning relationship. B'Elanna had told Harry the day before her flight that she was considering ending things with Tom. He had tried to counsel her as best he could, being her friend, but he was bothered by the fact that he was also Tom's friend. He wanted to smack the helmsman upside his head and tell him he was throwing away something special, but he had promised B'Elanna that he wouldn't. Now he wished he could, simply to shut Paris up.
His thoughts were interrupted suddenly by a chirping alarm on his console. Tapping a few commands, he peered at the readings and grinned widely. Way to go B'Elanna, he praised mentally, while he opened a channel to the Captain's Ready Room where Janeway and Chakotay were planning. "Captain Janeway to the Bridge," he called, the elation clear in his voice.
Mere seconds passed, and Captain Janeway was barking for a report and looking right at him. "Captain," he nodded, bringing up the same image he had displayed earlier, highlighting the flashing bar that kept appearing at regular intervals on the grid, "It's phaser fire."
Janeway tensed. "Do you think they've run into problems, Harry?" she snapped, peering at the screen.
"No, Captain," Harry zoomed in even further to display the pattern of flashes, "The blasts are happening at 3 second intervals." Even though it was lighting up an area of about 2 square miles, it was still a lot less than the 20 square miles they had been working with up until now.
"Nicely done, Harry," Captain Janeway smiled, and then clapped her hands together, "All right, Tuvok, you're with me. Harry, have the Doctor meet us in the transporter room. We'll use a narrow beam to transport down. Have a set of pattern enchancers waiting for us." She paused to look around the room, very proud of the hard work her people had done. "Keep up the good work, people."
Harry tried not to let his chest puff up too much at the praise, and went back to work, clearing the view screen and running more scans. He locked the location of the phaser fire just in case the away team ran out of power, and transferred the coordinates to the transporter room. He didn't know how close they would be able to transport the Captain, but he hoped the narrowed beam would help.
Chapter Seven
B'Elanna jerked her head up from the locator beacon she was trying to fix, when she realized that the phasers had stopped firing. "What happened?" she asked from her hunched position on the floor of the Delta Flyer.
"We are low on power," Seven responded, tapping commands into the tactical console, "We have 4 shots remaining. It would be wise to conserve them so that we are not unarmed in the event of trouble." Her logic was sound, and the engineer tried to reign in her anger. "Voyager will have noticed the signal by now, if they were capable of seeing it," the ex-Borg added helpfully.
"Good point," B'Elanna muttered, tossing down her tools and stretching her back with a pained groan. She had been hunched over the locator for the better part of an hour trying to pinpoint the melted isolinear chips so she could replace them. Pulling the device out of it's container, she was delighted that it had been mostly intact, but the crash itself had caused the casing to crack and whatever plasma the Delta Flyer had vented during descent, had leaked into the casing and melted some of the systems. She reminded herself to have a little chat with Tom Paris and his designing ability when she got back to Voyager.
"Any more luck with that power signature?" she asked suddenly, wanting to get her frayed nerves off her soon to be ex-boyfriend.
"Yes," Seven said, turning her chair around to face the Lt., "I directed the phaser fire at the largest collection of debris 500 yards from our location. Once I determined that the duranium in the pile was causing the interference, it was a simple matter of removing it."
B'Elanna paused for a moment and regarded the ex-Borg with a new appreciation. "That was good thinking, Seven," she praised, the surprised evident in her voice.
"It was logical," Seven responded with a raised eyebrow, as if her actions were the only logical way to proceed. It irked B'Elanna and she frowned.
"Yeah, well," she muttered and slammed her tool case onto one of the dead consoles, "Don't get cocky." She didn't want to be angry with the injured woman, but she couldn't really control her fraying nerves any further than she already had.
Seven noticed the frustration in B'Elanna's voice and realized she must have made another social error. "I have angered you again," she concluded, turning back to the console and scanning the melted and destroyed pile of duranium with the sensors, "I apologise."
B'Elanna dropped her chin to her chest and sighed. She made a conscious effort to control her mounting temper and took a very deep breath. "No, Seven," she countered quietly, "I'm sorry I snapped. My nerves are just a little on edge right now. I didn't mean to bark at you."
Seven's only reaction was her hand's brief pause on the panel. "I understand," she said quietly, her tone a lot softer than the jagged edge she used most of the time, "This is a stressful situation and you have been remarkably patient. I will attempt to... 'think before I open my cake hole'."
B'Elanna nearly fell out of her chair. "Where did you hear that term?" she asked in mild amusement, knowing from her tone that she didn't understand it.
"Ensign Nicoletti used that phrase when she was agitated with me yesterday," Seven replied immediately, "It seemed appropriate."
B'Elanna shook her head and smiled. Leave it to Nicoletti, she thought, remembering the woman's fondness for the 20th century that mirrored Tom Paris's obsession. "Why don't we go stretch our legs and see what that power reading you've registered is?" she suggested, wanting to change the subject back to something professional, We've got some time until the Captain can get to us, so we might as well be productive. I'd hate to go through all this and not have something to show for it."
Seven nodded and turned her attention inward for a brief moment. "I believe I will need another shot before I can assist you, Lt.," she remarked casually, but there was disgust in her voice.
B'Elanna nodded silently and retrieved the hypospray. "You know Seven," she said as she checked the setting and increased it only slightly, "We're not in a command structure here. You can call me 'Lanna."
Seven jerked her head up at B'Elanna and blinked. She understood enough about the use of crew's first names, to know that she had offered much more than a shortened form of her name for the ex-Borg to use. The Klingon engineer had offered her friendship as well. "Lanna," Seven said quietly, testing the name on her lips. She found that she liked it. Looking up at B'Elanna as she injected her with another shot of painkillers, she whispered quietly, "Thank you." It was the first time she had used the term and truly understood its purpose in the English language.
B'Elanna didn't respond verbally, simply nodded her head and offered her arm to help Seven to stand. "Let's go," she said quietly, pulling the ex-Borg to her feet and supporting her by the arm until she could find her balance, "So we can make it back before the away team gets here."
Seven gulped as she swayed, taking a moment to settle herself before agreeing with the engineer. "Agreed," she nodded, "We should make sure two of the hand phasers are functioning so that we are not unarmed."
B'Elanna grinned and held up two hand phasers with glowing readout panels. "Way ahead of you," she said with a grin and gestured with her head, "C'mon." She handed one of the weapons to Seven and levered the escape hatch open, squinting at the sunlight. A moment was all she needed to accustom her eyes to the brightness, and she stepped outside, looking around.
Keeping her eye on Seven, she let the tall ex-Borg point the way with her tricorder and the two women began walking. She was using measured steps, making sure she didn't jostle herself any more than necessary, so B'Elanna wondered if she should have brought the hypospray with her. The engineer considered warning Seven to watch her step, and then decided better of it. She had already gone far beyond her normal behavior with the woman by letting her use the short form of her name. Ah well, she grumbled silently, at least we'll be back on Voyager soon, and she'll go back to calling me Lt. Torres. She didn't know why, but that thought bothered her. She hated admitting it to herself, but she actually liked the way her name sounded when Seven spoke it a few moments earlier.
Coming up on the pile of rubbish, B'Elanna noted the places that had been scorched and burned by the Delta Flyer's phasers. She make sure to stay clear of them, and began climbing up the pile carefully, telling Seven to wait at the bottom for her. "I think I see something," she called, before making her way down again and examining the pile, "Can you find a way in?"
Seven nodded quietly but didn't pull the tricorder out again. Her eyes scanned the wall of metal, the ocular implant identifying stress points and weaknesses. "There," she pointed to a panel of charred duranium. Her Borg enhanced leg lashed out suddenly and shattered the metal as if it were glass.
"Wow," B'Elanna muttered, shaking her head. She'd seen Seven use her strength before, but it was always amazing to see. She moved forward and began clearing away the chunks of metal that fell to Seven's assault, waiting for her to stop and balance herself before getting in the way. B'Elanna didn't want to take even the slightest chance that the powerful leg might connect with any part of her body. Seeing what it could do to 3 inch thick duranium, she shuddered to think what it could do to mere flesh and bone.
"Hang on, Seven," she said after several minutes of back breaking work, "That should be enough." Between the ex-Borg's brute force, and B'Elanna's clearing debris out of the way, they had hollowed out a good-sized hole in the pile, revealing a hidden cavern in the mess.
"It is a deception," Seven puffed, peering into the shadowed hole at what lay beyond.
"A good one," B'Elanna muttered, scratching her ridges as she always did when she was thinking, "But to what end?" She looked at Seven and communicated silently, drawing her phaser. She wasn't going to be cause unprepared again. "Who would hide something in a junkyard?"
"I am not certain," Seven remarked very quietly, pulling her own phaser and creeping up behind B'Elanna as she stepped inside, "But it would appear that they have been gone a very long time." She looked around at all the dust present and held back a sneeze. "Lanna," she hitched, stopping cold and gesturing to the engineer's left.
B'Elanna spun around, phaser at the ready, tense for a fight. She relaxed amost immediately and stood in mute shock, taking in the vision before her. "What the hell am I looking at?" she whispered, inching closer.
"It would appear to be a human female," Seven stated with a raised eyebrow, pulling out her tricorder and holding it up.
"Thanks for that, Seven," B'Elanna grumbled, moving closer still. It was indeed a human female, suspended in some kind of stasis field. Human, and naked as the day she was born. The soft blue light shimmered around her slender body in waves, though it didn't move one strand of her wavy black hair. While she appeared to be standing rigid, there was nearly 6 inches of space between her feet and the base of the generator, her slender arms by her sides.
"She is most certainly human," Seven remarked, then squinted at the tricorder readings and tapped a few commands.
"What?" B'Elanna questioned, moving back to Seven's side, "What is it?"
"It is nothing," the ex-Borg answered, tapping another command, "The tricorder is malfunctioning. It is registering large amounts of tritanium inside her body."
"You're just reading the generator that's powering the stasis field," B'Elanna said, crouching down to examine the machinery in question.
"That is plausable," Seven said, and began looking around again. The entire room came into view as she found a flickering panel, and touched it. The heat of her hand activated the systems and the ceiling of the concealed room illuminated. "It would appear," she commented, looking around, "That she was not alone in her stasis, until recently."
There were six other generators, each of them covered in dust, and each of them deactivated. Certainly not by choice either. The scattered bones at the base of each broken machine spoke clearly that they had been malfunctioning for quite some time. But without keepers, the stasis chamber had become a mass grave.
"I wonder who they were," B'Elanna muttered quietly, feeling a pang of sorrow for the lost souls. She didn't know who they had been, or more importantly, when they had been. Had they left behind family? Friends? Lovers? People who would never know what had befallen their loved ones.
"There are 3 males, and 3 females," Seven remarked, pulling her tricorder back out to scan the remains, "Including the intact specimen. The rate of decay suggests that the last generator failed approximately 27 standard years ago. The others at various intervals before that."
B'Elanna looked around the room, but her curiosity kept bringing her back to the active stasis field, and the human woman suspended within. She remembered Voyager's second year in the Delta Quadrant, and finding more humans that had been in stasis. The '37's as they had been called by the natives. All had been important people from different parts of earth in the year 1937. The question left in B'Elanna's mind as she stared at the woman was, why her? What made this woman special in her time. Whatever that time had been.
She noticed that the technology suspending the woman wasn't anything like the others they had found. Those were almost akin to cryogenic chambers. This was something so beyond any technology she had seen that she wasn't even sure how to turn it off, let alone who had made it. But one thing was certain, it wasn't the same species that had taken the 37's. Not to mention the 37's had been put on display in a way, for all to see. Like a museum showing off its prized possessions. These people had been hidden out here in the middle of nowhere. Why? B'Elanna wondered, running her hand over the stasis field and watching it flicker and glow under her fingers.
"Nice to see you found something, Lt. Torres."
B'Elanna squeaked in surprise and spun on her heel, phaser at the ready. "Kahless balls on a bat'leth, Captain," she cursed, taking a deep breath, "You scared me."
"Aparently," Janeway smirked, stepping inside the doorway with Tuvok and the Doctor close behind. "We found the Delta Flyer and followed your footprints in the dirt," she explained, looking around. She caught sight of Seven's bandaged shoulder and stepped forward. "Are you both all right?"
"I am functioning, Captain," Seven replied stoically, lowering her own phaser, "Lt. Torres treated my injuries efficiently."
Janeway nodded. "Glad to hear it," she said, turning to examine the room in detail. "Leave it to you two," she smiled, stepping up to the suspended woman and smiling at B'Elanna, "I send you out to find something I'm not even certain exists, and you crash right next to it. What are the odds?"
B'Elanna smiled tiredly and nodded her head. "I'd rather skip the crashing next time if you don't mind, Captain," she joked, rubbing the slight knot on her head from where she had hit it on the console much earlier.
"Agreed," Janeway smiled and then turned to look at the glowing blue field, "It's a good thing the First Minister told us we could keep what we brought back," she commented, "Because she's coming back to the ship."
Tuvok moved forward and began examining the remains of the other humans. "Captain, I'm not sure that's a good idea," he said calmly, peering at the readings, "We cannot be certain that she was not carrying a harmful biological agent."
"The transporters should identify anything harmful, Tuvok," Janeway replied, crouching down and examining the dusty controls, "Besides, from this power level reading, this stasis field is ready to collapse just like the others." She stood up and brushed her hands together, ridding them of dust.
"Doctor," Seven's soft voice pulled the hologram away from his study of the bones surrounding the other generators, "How is Icheb?" She didn't want to turn focus away from the away team's original purpose, but she was worried about the young man.
"He's resting comfortably, Seven," the Doctor smiled, trying to relax the ex-Borg. He took the opportunity to scan her injury as he spoke to her, looking down at his medical tricorder in mild surprise. "Which is more than I can say for you," he added, pulling out a hypospray and injecting a numbing agent into Seven's shoulder.
It took effect almost immediately, shutting down the pain receptors in her nerves and she sighed in relief. The painkiller B'Elanna had been giving her was helping, but it was much akin to firing a hand phaser at a Borg cube. "Thank you for your assistance, Doctor," she intoned politely, knowing that it was only a stopgap until they could get back to sickbay. But now that they had found the human woman in stasis, she would be first in line for assistance, and Seven would have to wait. Numbing the nerves that were registering the pain was the only humane thing for the Doctor to do.
"Doctor," Janeway interrupted their talk. She was trying to decipher the strange markings on the generator panel, but not having much luck. The tricorder didn't recognize the language.
"Yes, Captain?" he said, nodding to Seven and moving to stand by the older woman.
"Can you scan the woman and determine if shutting down the stasis field will do any damage in the time it takes to get her back to the ship?" she asked, peering at the mysterious woman. The Captain found her quiet beauty captivating in a very curious way, and wondered if she had just been alone too long.
The Doctor ran his tricorder over the woman through the stasis field and tapped a few commands. "She is in perfect health, Captain," he remarked, looking up at her with a raised eyebrow, "Though I believe my tricorder is beginning to malfunction with all the kelvinite in the surrounding landscape. She will be fine for transport."
"Malfunction?" Janeway tipped her head slightly, then nodded, "Thank you, Doctor." To the rest of the away team, she said, "Let's get back to the Delta Flyer and set up the pattern enhancers." She turned back to look up at the suspended woman, wondering again, who she was and how she ended up here.
"Captain, a moment," Tuvok said, gaining her attention, "I believe I have found something."
Janeway crouched down beside the Security Chief. "What is it?" she said quietly, trying not to look at the scattered bones all over the generator. He was wiping dust off a plate at the base of the generator. An 'X' inside a circle had been engraved into the plate.
"It is the same symbol on each generator, Captain," he remarked calmly, "Perhaps it will give us some clue as to who left them here." His logic was sound, as usual, and Captain Janeway found herself nodding.
"Capture an image of it," she ordered and then moved back over to where B'Elanna was studying the panel, "Have you found a way to turn it off, Lt.?"
"Just one, Captain," she confirmed, and smashed her fist into the console with a grunt, breaking the resin panel and pulling out a fist full of wires. Before the captain could argue her actions, B'Elanna shot to her feet and caught the woman as the stasis field flickered and deactivated.
She sagged limp in the Klingon's strong arms, and B'Elanna staggered back, finding herself supported by the Captain at her back. "Nice catch," Janeway remarked with a raised eyebrow. Once B'Elanna was steady, she moved back to unfold an emergency blanket from the Doctor's case. She folded it around the limp woman's back and then held her while B'Elanna pulled the edges of the protective fabric snug around her body. She clipped it in front, creating a cocoon, and then lifted the woman into her arms, settling her weight.
"She's heavier than she looks," B'Elanna complained with a grunt, making her way out of the hidden room and into sunshine again.
"Don't let her hear you say that," the Captain commented with a grin, following her out, "Let's get back to the ship." All in all, it had been a good day. No one had died, they had solved a mystery, and they would be able to pull the Delta Flyer out with the pattern enhancers. Not a bad day at all.
Chapter Eight
Getting back to the ship had been a relatively easy task. Janeway and Tuvok had set up several pattern enhancers around the mangled Delta Flyer, and joined the rest of the crew inside the small craft. Chakotay had ordered the cargo transporters to pick up the entire area, just as the captain ordered before she departed. And so, the Delta Flyer, it's crew, and the surrounding scrap and dirt had materialized in the shuttle bay, en masse.
"Let's get the injured to Sickbay," Janeway ordered the moment she felt the tingle of the transporter leave her body. She motioned to Tuvok and he lifted the mystery woman into his deceptively strong arms, noting that she did, indeed, seem heavier than she looked.
The Doctor had confirmed that the dark haired woman was simply unconscious, though he couldn't identify the cause of it with his tricorder. He promised the Captain that he would begin his research the moment Lt. Torres and Seven had been treated, and inform her immediately, once he had the results.
Janeway left her crewmembers in the Doctor's capable hands, once they reached Sickbay and headed back to the Bridge. Tuvok had insisted on posting a guard by the mystery woman, and the captain found no reason to argue. He was just looking after the well being of the ship and crew, as was his job.
"Captain on the Bridge," Chakotay intoned when the turbolift doors opened, "Welcome back." His smile was infectious, and Janeway felt her excitement of such an amazing discovery finally take hold.
"Join me in my Ready Room, Commander," she ordered with a grin, nodding to Tuvok as he retook his station at tactical. Without another word, they disappeared into her private office, leaving several confused and very curious eyes watching the door.
"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary," Chakotay remarked, pulling a chair away from her desk and sitting down. She grinned at him and held up a finger, tapping the console at her desk quietly. "Harry," she smiled, "Open a channel to First Minister Jorai's offices please."
"Aye, Captain," came the reply over the com system, "Channel open." Suddenly an image of the gray skinned First Minister filled her screen.
"Captain Janeway," he said politely, "What can I do for you?" He looked a little wary, apparently unwilling to listen to her snapping at him again.
"First Minister," Janeway said with a smile, settling back in her chair, "I wanted to inform you that we have successfully recovered our two officers. I know you were concerned, and wanted them back as much as I did."
"That is wonderful news, Captain," Jorai clapped his long fingered hands together and chittered happily, "I will inform my offices to conclude their search for information on the wasteland, now that it seems redundant."
"Actually, First Minister," the captain smiled, lacing her fingers on her lap, "I would like your help with identifying a symbol if you don't mind." She loved dropping bombshells, and it showed. She was fairly chomping at the bit, Chakotay noted with a grin.
"A symbol?" The First Minister was confused, but only for an instant. Realization dawned on his face and his eyes went wide with shock. "You found something?" he questioned, looking very excited.
"Indeed, First Minister," she grinned smugly, "I will send the symbol to you for analysis. We will also check our historical files for any information."
"Thank you, Captain," he smiled happily, grateful that she was sharing her find with him. They hadn't recovered anything of value from the wasteland, and he hadn't expected the Voyager captain's search to end any differently. She nodded and terminated the link. A quick message to Tuvok had the information on its way down to the planet surface and she sat back in her chair, relaxing happily.
"So, I guess you're pretty pleased with yourself," Chakotay remarked, grinning and settling back to watch her expressions, "A symbol isn't a big find, but it's still more than anything the Ten'dor have found in their own backyard."
"That's not the only thing found, Chakotay," she grinned, "However I was reluctant to let the First Minister in on this little gem until we know more about her."
"Her?" he blinked, leaning forward. He wasn't sure he heard Janeway correctly.
"Her," the captain nodded, "A human being, in a stasis field that was very carefully hidden." She leaned forward, regarding him seriously. "The Doctor is performing tests on her now."
"Like the 37's," he concluded, following her line of thought, "Maybe there will be something of the technology on this planet."
Janeway nodded. "The stasis field didn't look like the others," she informed him, "But a human in the Delta Quadrant. Someone brought her out here, and that someone could have left more than a stasis field." She was excited about the prospect of talking with the woman once the Doctor woke her up. She wanted to know who the woman was, and if she remembered anything about her abduction. If it even was an abduction. She might have gone willingly, though Janeway didn't think that was the case.
"Sickbay to Captain Janeway," the Doctor's voice came through the com system, and Janeway nearly jumped to slap her com badge.
"Go ahead, Doctor," she replied, still looking at Chakotay.
"Seven of Nine and Lt. Torres have just been released with orders to rest for 24 hours," the hologram replied.
"And our guest?" she prodded, wondering why he seemed to be stalling.
"I think you should come see for yourself, Captain," the Doctor said after a long moment. Janeway frowned at Chakotay and nodded. "I'm on my way, Doctor," she confirmed, rising from her desk, "Janeway out."
Chakotay followed her to the Bridge and remained there. "Try not to get caught up in your scientific upbringing," he joked, dipping his head. Janeway chuckled at him and slapped his chest.
"I'll do my best," she confirmed and disappeared into the turbolift. Chakotay dropped into his chair and logged in to his terminal. He called up the image Janeway had sent to the First Minister of Ten'dor out of curiosity, and wracked his brain, wondering why it looked so familiar.
~~~
Janeway entered Sickbay quietly, nodding to the security officer who glanced her way. "Doctor," she called, stepping over to his office, "What have you found?" She moved over to the terminal he was tapping commands into and started.
"It would seem that my tricorder was functioning perfectly, Captain," he said, calling up his readings of the prone woman on his biobed. He called up a scan of her skeletal structure and brought her attention to it.
"What the hell am I looking at, Doctor," she gasped in shock, staring at the image.
"The readings of tritanium that both my tricorder, and Seven's were picking up were accurate," he informed her, "It's been grafted to her entire skeletal structure. And that's not all I found." He motioned the Captain out of his office and led her over to the biobed, lifting the woman's arm carefully.
"All of her scars have been removed," the captain concluded, blinking at the woman's arm, knowing what the flawless skin hid under its surface.
"No, Captain," the Doctor shook his holographic head, "She's been in stasis for about 350 years as far as we can figure. Watch carefully."
Janeway fell silent and watched as the Doctor picked up an electric shock stimulator designed for reactivating brain waves. He turned the output to maximum, which was only used for Bolian patients in complete neural shut down. She said nothing, though she worried at his actions, knowing the stimulator at that level setting would put out enough electrical current to give the woman a reasonable burn where ever he activated it.
When he pressed the tines to the unconscious woman's arm, she almost reached out to stop him. He moved too quickly for her, however, and pressed the button. She gasped as the woman's arm jerked and thrashed at the stimulation, muscles bulging and flexing. "Doctor!" she snapped, intending to give him the verbal chastising of his holographic life when the response he had been looking for nearly took her hand off.
She recoiled in surprise, barely biting off a startled scream as three sharp, dagger-like weapons shot from the webbing between her knuckles, extending nearly 12 inches from her hand. "What the hell?" she whispered, reaching forward, only to be stopped by the Doctor's firm grip.
"Careful, Captain," he said, releasing her wrist once she had stopped, "They are incredibly sharp. It's a good thing I'm a hologram or I would have lost a few fingers before now."
"They're housed in her forearms?" Janeway concluded, examining the woman's wrist to see how flexible it was with the claws extended.
"Yes," the Doctor nodded, setting the stimulator aside, "From what I have been able to determine, they are activated by a combination of nerve impulses and muscle movement. There are tritanium springs that force them out of their casing, making it possible for her to still retain full movement of her wrist joint. When they retract however, they pull right back into her forearm, clearing her wrist again. As Seven would say, 'an efficient weapon'."
"And dangerous," she commented, surprised again as the relaxation of the woman's muscles caused the claws to retract just as suddenly as they appeared a moment ago. She took a step back, waiting for the doctor to heal the incisions left by the sharp tritanium. When he didn't move, she cocked her head slightly to the side and opened her mouth to question him, only to see him spreading the limp fingers and holding the hand up for her inspection. To Janeway's surprise, the broken skin began to knit together right before her eyes. She gasped as it healed perfectly in a matter of mere seconds, leaving no sign of scaring to indicate what they had seen.
"Doctor?" Janeway looked at the hologram with a very serious expression, wondering if what she had found was a danger to her ship and her crew.
"Her DNA match was on file in the ship's database, Captain," he said quietly, confirming that she had disappeared after 2023, when the program was initiated. Every human being on the planet Earth had been DNA mapped in the beginning years of the Eugenics Wars to prove who was human and who was a construct. When she said nothing, he returned to his office and picked up a data padd. "Morgan Dalton," he intoned, reading from the padd, "Profession: Teacher. Employed at Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."
Janeway knew that school. It was a historical landmark, being one of the few buildings left standing after the Eugenics War. It was also the first school of its kind on Earth in the 20th century. A refuge and place of specialized learning for mutants, where they learned how to control their abilities to make them less of a threat to civilization. The history of the organization wasn't discovered until after the war that decimated most of mutant kind. Even though the radicals who were in favor of genetic manipulation had been overthrown in the war, the latent genes that controlled mutation had been forced into dormancy once again, and there had not been another mutant born in nearly 300 years.
"Her mutant abilities are documented on file," the Doctor offered, watching Janeway stare across Sickbay at the woman, "The historical records also detail how she ended up with the weapons and tritanium reinforced skeleton."
"Thank you, Doctor," Janeway said quietly, finally tearing her eyes away, "Notify me immediately when you are able to wake her." She was more eager than ever to speak with the woman, Ms. Dalton, and find out what she could tell them. She only hoped that discussion would be in her Ready Room, and not in the brig.