Chapter 9 - 11
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.
Seven of Nine opened her eyes and blinked several times to adjust to the muted lighting the cargo bay. She had begun regeneration only 4 hours ago, but needed to see the children off to their lessons before she could complete her cycle. Her arm still ached from the Doctor's repairs to her implant and muscles, but she knew with a longer regeneration cycle, that it would fade away quickly.
She stepped away from her alcove and turned to watch the children awaken. "Good morning," she intoned, her hands at her sides, rather than clasped behind her back, as it caused unnecessary pain in her shoulder, "Commence waking protocol Alpha Three. You are required to be at your lessons in 23 minutes."
"We will not be participating in morning calisthenics?" Mizoti questioned, while the twins went about tidying their areas around the alcoves.
"No," Seven responded, looking down at the girl calmly, "The Doctor requires that I complete two full regeneration cycles before resuming daily routines. So you will be sharing this...'vacation'."
"I will comply," Mizoti said quietly with a nod, "And Seven? Thank you for your assistance yesterday. I apologize for my lack of control in the situation."
"Your apology is not required, Mizoti," Seven said, her implant covered eyebrow raising, "It was normal behavior for the situation." She was relieved that Mizoti started only briefly and then went about her morning tasks with the boys.
Seven considered the girl's reaction as she oversaw the children. Her vague understanding from B'Elanna's explanation of the intense emotion still warranted more research, but she reminded herself to continue it after regenerating. Normally, she would ignore the Doctor's orders until it suited her to obey them, but the physical pain was something she was not accustomed to. She wanted it gone as quickly as possible, as it was not a pleasant sensation. In retrospect, it gave Seven a new appreciation of the ship's crewmembers she had seen seriously injured in the line of duty.
The individuals on board Voyager continually forced themselves to work through severe injuries, ignoring what Seven now knew to be blinding pain. She remembered B'Elanna's hand from the day before, and shuddered slightly before she could stop it. Her cortical implant had identified the degree of burn the overloading plasma conduit had caused, and deemed it unimportant. She now understood how much it must have hurt. Her photographic memory could instantly recall 17 separate incidents where Lt. Torres had been injured in engineering and continued working through that pain.
"Seven," Azan's voice broke into her thoughts as the tall blonde woman was considering her preoccupation with B'Elanna's injuries any one else's, "Our task is complete. We must report for our daily lessons." She blinked and looked down at the young twin, forgetting for a moment what she had asked him to do. Her delay in replying was enough for him to notice something was amiss. "Seven of Nine, are you damaged?"
"No," she replied too quickly, then took a breath and calmed, "I am functioning within acceptable parameters, Azan." She laced her fingers behind her back before she remembered her shoulder and raised her eyebrow to force away a wince of pain, regarding him coolly. "I will accompany you to your lessons."
"That would be acceptable," he intoned, dipping his head and mirroring her posture. The other children joined him and waited for her to lead the way.
Seven pivoted on her heel, and closed her eyes briefly, warding back the pain. She held her arm behind her back to keep her shoulder from moving and strode out of the cargo bay, her enhanced hearing picking up the sound of the children following her.
The Doctor's brief lecture had included little valuable information, among which was that her nanoprobes would recover from the EMP slowly. Being that they were mechanical in nature and constantly powered, they had been disrupted just enough to cause a cascade failure of her systems. They were still randomly going offline, only to be repaired by the functioning ones. It was causing her to heal a little more slowly than normal. It was hardly fatal for the ex-Borg, merely uncomfortable.
After dropping the children off at their lesson, Seven found herself heading toward Sickbay. It is inefficient to attempt regeneration without knowing the status of the nanoprobes, her mind rationalized, but the human side of her knew it was because she needed a shot for the pain. Perhaps the Doctor would acknowledge her need for the numbing agent so that she could regenerate.
She nodded greetings to a few officers as she passed them in the corridor, remembering her social lessons to attempt politeness with her fellow crewmembers. Some responded, others didn't, but it was irrelevant to her for the most part. It was just another of her attempts to 'be more human'.
Rounding the corner, she entered Sickbay with her customary determined stride. "Activate," she began, but halted when she saw the Doctor's program already running. He was bent over the stasis survivor they had recovered from the planet's surface, deeply involved in some visual scan of her mouth.
"Ah, Seven," the Doctor said, looking up at the sound of her voice, "What brings you to my humble abode?" He placed his scanner on the edge of the biobed and stepped through the medical force field to speak with her. "I thought I ordered you to regenerate?" He had erected the med shield after the Captain's departure, not wanting to take any chances that she might wake and become hostile. It was easier than having a security officer present to annoy him while he worked.
"I am experiencing difficulty," Seven said honestly, releasing her arm from the customary hold behind her back, "My shoulder was not properly repaired." She regarded the Doctor with a calm expression.
The hologram huffed quietly and scanned her shoulder, humming and hawing in a rather obnoxious way. "Well, your movement caused some irritation," he deduced, fixing another hypospray, "But you didn't reinjure it. Just a good long regeneration cycle should boost your nanoprobes into taking care of the weakness." He injected a mild painkiller into her system, laced with a very slight sedative. "This will also help you regenerate."
"Thank you for your assistance in this matter," Seven intoned quietly, rolling her shoulder experimentally, "I will regenerate after I have checked on Icheb." The Doctor looked like he was going to argue, but thought better of it. There was no changing the ex-Borg's mind when she decided to do something. And where the children were concerned, she was very much like a protective mother, whether she realized it or not.
"Don't be long," the Doctor said, stepping back through the force field, "He needs his rest, much like you do." The hologram fired the last statement out, knowing it would get Seven's attention. She was trying to lead the children by example, and in turn was learning much more about her humanity than she realized. To insist that Icheb rest, when she would not herself was not acceptable to the children, or to her.
"I will comply," she said softly, already distracted by Icheb's prone body off to one side of Sickbay. She approached quietly, watching his chest rise and fall under the medical gel pack that still encased his abdomen to regenerate the flesh and muscle. With a critical eye, she judged that he had another 24 hours before the Doctor could use the dermal regenerator to cover his work with fresh skin.
Seven reached out and brushed a wisp of hair away from the boy's cheek, wondering at how many more implants he could afford to lose. He had rejected many in his short time on Voyager, the abdominal implant being the largest and most recent. All were systems he could live without, his own body picking up where it had left off before assimilation, but he was quickly running out of lesser systems. Soon she feared, he would begin rejecting necessary systems. Systems that performed functions his body could no longer handle on its own.
As she touched the boy's cool cheek, she thought of One, and his brief existence in her life and on Voyager. She could still feel the sadness of his loss, colored by something new, something she didn't quite understand. It felt like concern. Very much like the concern she felt when B'Elanna was injured, but much stronger. This was almost consuming in its intensity.
"Seven," the Doctor said, breaking her attention away from the recovering boy.
Lacing her fingers behind her back, and relieved that there was no longer any pain associated with the action, thanks to the hypospray, Seven turned and tipped her head. "Doctor?"
"Icheb needs his rest," the hologram said, stepping up and regarding her kindly, "And so do you."
Seven raised her eyebrow and hesitated briefly. "I will comply," she said finally, with a slight nod. She glanced at Icheb one final time before turning to leave.
The Doctor watched her leave, wondering at the new expressions that seemed to animate her face. He didn't have a chance to think about it at great length however, as the blip of a monitoring sensor reached his holographic ear. Looking up to the bio-shielded platform, he noticed that the stasis survivor's life signs, showing on the console above her head, had risen. She was approaching consciousness.
Tapping his combadge, the Doctor let a slight smile cross his face. "Sickbay to Captain Janeway," he said smugly, feeling quite pleased with himself. At first, he hadn't been able to determine the cause of her unconscious state, the tricorder showing no sign of drugs in her system. It was only after two long hours of scanning her higher brain functions that he realized he was using present day techniques to diagnose a 350 year old problem. A quick removal of a few neural blocks and a little suppression of an over abundance of melatonin, and the young woman had drifted into a very natural, and very restful sleep.
"Janeway here," the Captain's rough voice came over the com system, making the Doctor wonder if he'd woken her. A split second after the thought, his program's time index told him it was 15 minutes into the start of alpha shift, so the Captain would be on the Bridge already.
"Captain," he said, his programming making him bounce slightly on the balls of his feet, "Our guest seems to be waking up. I thought you might like to be present for 'First Contact' as it were."
"Thank you, Doctor," she said, her voice a little clearer, "I'll be right there. Janeway out." The link chirped as it was closed and the Doctor stepped back up to monitor his patient's progress out of her very long sleep.
Chapter Ten
After leaving Sickbay, Seven made her way back to Deck Eight, where Cargo Bay 2 was located. As she strode through the same corridor from the turbolift that she had just escorted the children through for their lesson, her mind drifted to thoughts of Icheb and of One. She was worried about him, that she understood. But her mind couldn't quite comprehend how deep the emotion of worry and loss traveled within her. One's death had affected her deeply, and every one of those emotions was being brought to the surface again, intensified by Icheb's condition.
When she thought of One, her mind focused solely on those memories, ignoring the situation around her. She surmised that it was what the Doctor had called, 'one track mind'. As she remembered her last conversation with One, in the Sickbay she had just left, the sense of sorrow and loss only increased in intensity. She was completely focused on that, as she rounded a corner, and didn't pay attention to where she was going. The memories of ordering One to deactivate his force field still caused an emotional pain that was immediately equaled by physical pain as she ran head long into another person, sending them both crashing to the deck.
"What the?!" the compact form grumbled, struggling to free her limbs from their tangle. B'Elanna Torres rubbed her elbow where it had impacted with the deck and blinked at Seven as they both got to their feet. "Seven?"
"I apologize, Lt. Torres," Seven said, tugging a sleeve of her biosuit back down, "I was not... 'paying attention'." She straightened up and laced her fingers behind her back. "Are you damaged?"
"What?" B'Elanna blinked at her for a long moment before answering, "No I'm fine, Seven." She hesitated, seemingly interested in something. "Seven you're crying. Did you hurt something when you fell?"
Seven blinked and brought her hand up to her eyes, feeling the abundance of moisture that had collected without her realizing. "I was unaware of it," she said quietly, hastily wiping her eyes with her human hand, "I am undamaged."
B'Elanna mentally grumbled at herself to just get back to her duties, but she couldn't seem to make her body react to it. "Seven," she said quietly, laying her hand on Seven's human arm as it brushed tears away, "Are you okay?"
Seven realized from B'Elanna's change in tone that she did not mean physically. She hesitated for a long moment, considering if she wanted to tell the Klingon what she was thinking. Her last attempt to engage B'Elanna in conversation in the Cargo Bay had resulted in a less than positive way, and she did not wish to make her uncomfortable again. "It is nothing of concern, Lt. Torres," she intoned, straightening her back and resuming that classic Borg stance.
B'Elanna bit back a sharp retort at her tone, realizing it was simply Seven's way of distancing herself. "Okay," the engineer nodded, though hesitantly, "Well, um, I guess I'll be going now." She pointed soft of half-heartedly down the hall, shifting from one foot to the other anxiously. Now that the conversation was over, she was becoming uncomfortable with the blonde woman's presence.
"I should be as well," Seven replied, not showing any of the nervousness she, herself was feeling. Her ocular implant was registering B'Elanna's increased heart rate and elevated temperature, and concluded that she was becoming uneasy. "I will see you in engineering tomorrow, Lt. Torres." With that, she nodded briefly and strode down the corridor, not looking back once.
B'Elanna watched her go, blinking a few times. She finally managed to kick herself into gear, and continued down the corridor toward her destination. The engineer had decided on a few laps of the deck to settle her mind, not wanting to spend her 24 hours off duty in the loneliness of her quarters. She didn't know why the image of Seven crying bothered her so much. She wanted desperately to find out what was wrong, but didn't know how to go about asking. Seven had never really been her friend, and knew it was simply because of her cursed Klingon temper. The only time they had talked was to argue about something in Engineering.
Maybe I need to talk to the Captain, she thought, knowing that Janeway was the only one close enough to Seven to give good advice. She would rather have talked to Chakotay or Harry, but neither of them spent a great deal of off duty time with the ex-Borg. B'Elanna made a mental note to take care of it at the end of Alpha shift, and quickened her pace, determined to return to her cabin and get some rest before then.
~~~
Captain Janeway was on her way to Sickbay. After receiving word from the Doctor that their newest resident was regaining consciousness, she had turned over control of the Bridge to her First Officer and left immediately. Tuvok had pointed out the regulations of having security present when a potentially hostile individual was waking, and Janeway had to admit he was right. She invited him along, and made sure to bring her morning coffee as well. She was nearly late for duty this morning and had to bring it with her to assure the first dose of caffeine would keep her going through the morning reports.
Cradling the mug to her chest closely in the turbolift, she inhaled the rich fragrance she had come to depend on over the last 6 years. In the first week she had barely managed to choke the terribly replicated version of her favorite beverage, but as time passed, she realized it was as much a remembrance of home as the holo images of her mother and sister that she talked to every night.
"I'm excited about meeting her, old friend," Janeway said finally, as they stepped out of the turbolift to make the short walk to Sickbay.
"She is from a far different time," the Vulcan Security Chief agreed, "It will be most interesting to learn what she has to teach."
Janeway smiled indulgently. She knew, her long time friend was fascinated with Human logical processes; especially those of Humans from past centuries. He didn't share his hobbies with others very often, but that was one he spoke to Janeway about on many occasions. She pictured him spending many hours with Ms. Dalton after her release from Sickbay, asking everything he could think of.
"Being a teacher in her own time, I'm sure she'll be just as anxious to speak with you about your own culture," Janeway pointed out, as they rounded the corner and stepped into Sickbay.
"Indeed," Tuvok commented, raising an eyebrow at Janeway's subtle swipe toward him. He knew she enjoyed needling him about emotions, hoping to get some sort of rise out of him. Over the many years they had known each other, Tuvok had learned it was best to indulge her comments, comfortable with the banter that they shared.
"Ah, Captain," the hologram looked up and smiled, "The patient is stable, and her vitals are rising steadily. She should be awake in a few minutes." He keyed in a sequence on the console beside the bed and the force field shimmered for a moment before deactivating.
Tuvok's posture stiffened minutely, but Janeway noticed it. She gave him a look that said 'calm down' and stepped up to the monitoring bay where their new arrival was lying. "Can you give her a stimulant?" she asked, becoming anxious but trying not to show it.
"With her unique DNA sequencing, there's no way to tell if it would even work," the Doctor replied, swiping his medical tricorder over her body again to take new readings. He looked at them for a moment, and then repeated the motion, noting a change. "Here she comes," he announced, setting the instrument down and stepping back slightly.
Janeway watched quietly, studying the woman's face as its muscles twitched slightly. She groaned softly and cleared her throat, a slight frown appearing. "You're safe," Janeway said quietly, hoping her voice would reach the woman in her fog, and somehow soothe her.
The woman's nose twitched slightly, almost animal-like, and her eyes opened slowly, blinking rapidly. Those are the bluest eyes I have ever seen, Janeway's mental voice commented, before she forced it back and spoke. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway," she said, putting what she hoped was a comforting and relaxed smile on her face, "You're on my ship, the U.S.S. Voyager."
"Morgan," she whispered, clearing her throat again, "Morgan Dalton."
"It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Dalton," Janeway said, laying her free hand on the woman's shoulder, "How are you feeling?"
Morgan merely groaned and her nose twitched again. "Oh tell me that's coffee I smell," she remarked, off topic, blinking again when the auburn haired woman chuckled.
"A woman after my own heart," she supplied, holding her mug forward, "Nectar of the Gods."
Morgan smiled weakly at the joke and tried to lever herself upright. Her arms felt like dead weight, but the captain put a hand at her back and helped with a gentle pressure to let her know she wouldn't fall back without warning. "Thanks," she said, shaking her head slightly and instinctively reaching for the Captain's mug.
Janeway grinned in amusement and relinquished the coffee, watching as Morgan took a healthy mouthful of the steaming liquid and swallowed it. Her eyes closed in a slight frown, and she shuddered a bit, causing the Captain to chuckle. "Not the best," Janeway admitted, taking the mug back, "But it's better than nothing."
"Amen to that," Morgan nodded, laying her hands flat on the biobed and stretching her neck slowly, tipping it to one side, then the other. It snapped and creaked audibly and Janeway winced.
"Ouch," she said, motioning to the Doctor, "Can you fix that for her, Doctor?"
Morgan's eyes remained closed, expecting the doctor to lay his hands on her neck and begin a massage as she was accustomed to whenever she ended up in the hospital. When she felt a slight tingling, her eyes popped open and she jerked back. "What the?" she blurted, reaching back to feel the skin of her neck, wondering what had happened.
"Nothing I can do, Captain," a balding man she didn't recognize, said, "It's because of the tritanium shifting her vertebrae. It's probably going to do that her whole life."
Morgan blinked at him, speechless at the fact that he knew about her grafting. It was then that it hit her. The panels in the room, the bed, the clothes the people were wearing. "My God," she whispered, looking at Janeway with wide eyes, "Where the hell am I?"
Janeway's smile disappeared, replaced by a frown of concern. "It's okay," she said, putting her coffee down and stepping up with her hands raised and open, "No one is going to hurt you here, Ms. Dalton."
Morgan looked around frantically, taking in her surroundings, searching for a way out. Her blue eyes fell on another man, standing some distance back, with some sort of device at his hip. But that wasn't what caught her attention. It was the ears. They were pointed. Oh my God, she thought, blinking at him, watching his already slanted eyebrow raise, He's not human. She focused her sense of smell on him, relying on her mutant abilities to confirm her initial reaction, and nearly passed out in shock. He didn't smell human either. Oh boy, she mentally groaned, This is not good.
"What year is it?" she whispered, turning back to see the Captain's shocked expression.
"How did you...?" the captain started to ask, but then realized she had seen Tuvok and sighed in resignation, "Stardate 54673. By the Earth calendar, it's the year 2394." Well that was one way to tell her, Janeway's mind supplied helpfully, and she silently told it to shut up.
Morgan blinked at the captain for a long moment. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but nothing came out. She was completely at a loss for what to say. Finally, with all three looking at her expectantly, she gave up trying to form words and just reached for the coffee mug again, pulling it off the little table, and gulping greedily from it. It tasted horrible, but at least with it sliding down her throat she wasn't expected to say anything.
Captain Janeway looked over and nodded to Tuvok, her expression telling him that she would be okay. She quietly asked the Doctor to excuse himself as well and breathed a silent sigh of relief when he went without argument to his office. She watched Morgan finish off the coffee and set the mug down without comment, taking a deep breath.
Once they were alone, Janeway settled herself into a relaxed pose and examined the woman's expression. "It's a lot to process," she admitted carefully, wanting to strike up a conversation as gently as possible.
"You're not kidding," Morgan nodded quietly, looking down at her hands, "And here I thought I'd been through the roughest parts of my life." She looked up at Janeway and smiled shakily.
"Your abilities," Janeway confirmed, remembering from what she had been reading over the last several hours. A mutant's abilities manifested themselves during puberty along with the body's other changes, usually due to some sort of extreme expression of emotion. She couldn't imagine having to go through that, and how hard it must have been in a world that had been filled with prejudices.
Morgan nodded quietly. She had lived through the eugenics war, surviving with the last of the mutants in Xavier's manor, and couldn't quite wrap her mind around the fact that she had missed out on the last 350 years. She knew, rationally, that her friends were all long dead, and it was a little depressing to realize that she was the only one left. "I'm scared," she finally admitted, her voice barely a whisper.
Janeway wasn't sure how to respond to that statement, having spent a great deal of time suppressing her own fear. Captains weren't supposed to be afraid of anything. What crap!, her mind shouted. "I'll admit I don't know much about how you ended up in stasis," she told the young woman, but I will tell you everything I can about how you were found, and ended up here."
"I'd appreciate that," Morgan muttered, taking a deep breath and then giving the Captain a shaky smile. She liked the woman's no nonsense attitude, and felt very relaxed around her. She tucked her weak legs underneath her, and settled in to listen intently, a part of her mind already wondering how she could earn her keep on the ship until it reached port and she could hit dry land.
It wasn't until several long minutes later, that she realized this ship wasn't a water vessel at all. But that they were thousands of light years from Earth completely, in the far reaches of the galaxy, where even in all their advancement, Humans had yet to travel. Her natural curiosity driving her, Morgan asked if she could get the guided tour of the ship that Captain Janeway had been describing. Unfortunately, she was turned down cold, informed that she had to remain in Sickbay for another day at least, while the Doctor made sure she was okay. A Doctor that she now understood wasn't as human as he looked.
One thing she was able to do though, was help Captain Janeway with the mystery of how she had gotten so far out into this 'Delta Quadrant'. She remembered the aliens, pulling her and her friends, who she now knew were all dead, from the Xavier mansion, shuttling them away, 'for their own good' as they had said. Telling them that their world wasn't ready for them, and that they would be taken somewhere that they would be safe. They hadn't understood that safe, was stasis. Not until it was too late. Morgan had fought them, being the last one to be put into stasis, but to no avail it would seem, as she ended up 350 years in the future, not knowing any of the faces around her.
"What will happen to me, Captain?" she finally asked, not sure if there would be a place on Voyager for her. She wanted to return to Earth, but she couldn't expect Janeway to take her in like a starving little orphan off the street. She and the other teachers at Xavier's school had been very much like that, but she learned very early in life that mutants couldn't count on anything but themselves in life.
"That's up to you, Morgan," Janeway replied, not all that comfortable with the woman's first name, but respecting her wishes to be addressed as such, "You are human, and therefore a Federation citizen. You have the right to see your home world again, but I certainly won't force you to come with us if you would like to stay here with the Ten'dori."
Morgan nearly guffawed at her. She managed to look properly thoughtful for all of two seconds before she blurted her answer out. "Need a cabin girl?" she smiled sardonically, raising her right arm up in an almost mocking salute.
Janeway grinned and shook her head. She liked this woman's sense of humor. Even under the worst of circumstances, she was still making fun of her situation. "I have to get back to the Bridge," Janeway said, putting a hand on Morgan's arm, "But I will arrange quarters for you, and I'll stop by and see how you're doing after my shift." She smiled warmly. "I know it will be difficult, but try to get some rest, okay?"
Morgan nodded quietly. "Thank you, Captain," she said softly, not even noticing when the Doctor returned from his office to check her vitals. Janeway and the Doctor both helped her to lay back on the surprisingly comfortable bed, her eyes closing before she knew what was happening. She was asleep in mere moments.
Chapter Eleven
Captain Janeway returned to the Bridge with a jovial bounce in her step. She spent several moments talking avidly with Tuvok on the short walk, very pleased that Morgan was as pleasant as she had been. Of course it was a trying situation for the young woman, but she had handled it admirably, and Tuvok was suitably impressed. They both knew it would be a rough road, and take quite a bit of adjustment, but the first hurdle was behind them, and that was the most difficult one.
"Captain," Chakotay's voice greeted her when she returned to the Bridge, "First Minister Jorai just left a rather urgent message for you. He'd like you to contact him immediately." He nodded a greeting to Tuvok and then sat back down in the Captain's chair, watching Janeway head straight to her Ready Room.
"Mr. Kim," she called from her doorway, "Please hail the First Minister's office and patch it through to my Ready Room." When he acknowledged her order, Janeway disappeared behind the closed door, and relaxed in her chair, waiting for the terminal to light up with the waited for communique.
"Captain!" Jorai blurted, very happy to have finally gotten through to her, "I am pleased with your prompt response."
"It seems you left the message for me just before I returned to the Bridge, First Minister," she said with a polite smile, lacing her fingers over her lap and wishing she'd thought to replicate another mug of coffee before sitting down, "What can I do for you this morning?" She knew several of her crew had beamed down with the Alpha shift for shore leave now that all the food stuffs had been collected, and hoped that none of them had been involved in any altercation.
"It's about that symbol found in the wasteland," the First Minister began quietly, shifting around, "You didn't bring back anything else from that site, did you?" His eyes were wide with fright, and Janway wondered what possibly could have scared him so badly.
"First Minister," she began diplomatically, "I'm sorry to have caused you any concern, but we've discovered the symbol in Earth's historical records."
"I can't understand, if you have seen the records, why you are so calm about this, Captain," he snapped, growing even more agitated, "Once the diplomats hear of this, they will be most concerned."
"First Minister, I'm not following you," Janeway said, growing more worried herself that something was terribly wrong, "What did your search bring up?" The Doctor hadn't found anything wrong with Morgan, but if it was possible he missed some harmful agent, they could be in serious trouble.
"Captain, that symbol," he began, then spluttered to a stop, "I will send you the information." Janeway nodded, and plugged a spare data padd into the com port of her terminal to download the information for reading while she conferred with the government official.
She powered up the padd after a chirp signaled its completion, and began reading. Janeway only got a paragraph into the report before her frown of concern turned to one of annoyance and she tossed the padd down onto her desk. "First Minister," she said carefully, "Your people's concern is because this symbol identifies genetic abberations? Is this accurate?"
"The ancient ones," he began, speaking of their Gods, "They spoke in the scrolls of an evil so strong and powerful, that those who gave in to it, were changed not only mentally, but physically as well."
"But why would you judge other species the same way, First Minister?" Janeway asked, trying desperately not to show her distaste at his intolerance. What she really wanted to do was bring him up to her ship and let him speak to Morgan for 5 minutes. Make him understand that she was just another frightened woman, lost from her time.
"The ancient ones were all knowing, Captain," he responded crisply, folding his hands, "I have ordered a missile strike of the area where your people crashed, as soon as I can receive the proper coordinates from you."
"I beg your pardon?" Janeway started, realizing that this prejudice went far beyond normal fear of the unknown.
"Captain," he said very carefully, "We have welcomed you to this planet with open arms. I think that a few coordinates and the return of any items you found on the planet surface is not too much to ask under the circumstances." His face had hardened, his gray skin going an even deeper shade.
Janeway's eyes narrowed and she spoke very carefully. "I will send the coordinates down to you immediately, First Minister," she said neutrally, "However the only thing we recovered was an image of the symbol. I would like to keep that for our records if you don't mind." Her tone had taken on an icy tinge that she hoped the First Minister sensed, but wouldn't comment on.
"Thank you, Captain," he said with a quiet nod, "I hope you can see the necessity of this action. It's for our own protection."
"I understand your beliefs must come first," Janeway nodded, but inside she was seething, "It's about time for us to continue our journey as well. Stand by, the coordinates are on their way." She clicked a button on the terminal, ending the conversation. Damnit, her mind grumbled, as she slapped a hand forcefully down on the table and scowled.
After a long moment, Janeway rose from her chair, retrieving the padd and strode back to the Bridge. "Mr. Kim," she snapped, her mood instantly picked up by the rest of the crew as all banter between stations effectively ceased, "Send the away team's rescue coordinates from yesterday to the First Minister. He's expecting them." She turned to face Chakotay and scowled. "Start beaming our people back," she said quietly, "It's time to leave."
"Captain?" the First Officer asked, looking for a reason.
"It seems we've worn out our welcome, Chakotay," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She slumped down in her command chair and tapped into her terminal, silently handing him the padd to forestall any more questions.
Several moments went by before Chakotay slapped the padd down on his terminal and sputtered. "They can't be serious!" he said in frustration, remembering the stories of his own people's persecution in history.
"I'm afraid they are," Janeway responded grimly, then snapped to Harry, "Status?"
"Coordinate's sent, Captain," he responded immediately, then after a long pause, reported, "Transport complete. All crewmembers have returned to Voyager."
"Good," she grumbled, "Mr. Paris. Take us out of orbit and put us back on course for the Alpha Quadrant, Warp 8, Engage."
"Warp 8, Aye," the helmsman replied, tapping the commands into his console. He didn't know why the Captain wanted to get going so fast, but he wasn't going to argue. Arguing with the Captain's orders got him demoted, and at Ensign, there was nowhere for him to go but the brig. He watched the stars in the viewer elongate for a split second, before beginning to move rapidly by the ship as it streaked into the darkness of space.