Parts 15 - 17
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 Fifteen
Thankfully, the raid had ended without any deaths among the crew. The injured officers Morgan found had been treated by the Doctor, and only one remained under heavy sedation in Sickbay. The hologram even grudgingly admitted that two of them probably would have died without her help; A big step for him. Even Chakotay clapped her on the shoulder and praised her for a job well done.
Morgan didn’t feel much like a hero, though. She despised killing in all its forms, and hated when she had to end life. Two of the Hirogen had died before the Doctor could heal their injuries, and the other two were under heavy guard as they recovered. She didn’t regret her actions, knowing that the aliens would have killed the captain, and most likely gone down fighting. This way there was less bloodshed, and the captain escaped with only minor injuries.
Watching the flurry of activity in Sickbay as the Doctor scrambled to heal the injured, Morgan perched herself on a chair out of the way, legs tucked up under her body. She had distanced herself from the captain as she and Chakotay discussed what was to become of the Hirogen officers and their badly damaged ship, needing the time to wind down. Her senses were still finely tuned, and after the rush of adrenaline had ended, everything echoed. It was a little disconcerting, making her feel as though she was under water, but Morgan had learned to live with it. And it always cleared up fairly quickly.
Tom Paris had joined the Doctor in his work before Morgan and the captain arrived with the security team escort. He left his post on the Bridge once things had been gotten under control, knowing from the alerts that weapons had been fired. And weapons fire meant injured. Now he scrambled alongside the Doctor, making sure medications were administered, and instruments were passed over, generally making himself useful. Though it didn’t help his concentration that the captain was in the room with him.
He still worried about what she was going to say to him about the little scene in the mess hall. Had he known Janeway was there, he never would have followed B’Elanna, kicking up such a fuss about her decision. Or he never would have allowed her to run that far before he tried to stop her. Probably not a wise move in any event, but in his mind, having bones broken by a Klingon, was a lot better than having the captain mad at you.
“Thank you, Mr. Paris,” the Doctor’s voice broke into his thoughts, “Now if you wouldn’t mind, take the dermal regenerator over to the captain, and start on the worst of her lacerations while I finish here.”
Paris nearly choked. Gee, thanks for nothing, Doc, he thought sarcastically, wondering if the Emergency Medical Hologram was telepathic as well as sentient. He did as he was told though, wisely keeping his mouth shut, except to ask the captain to lie down on the bed while he worked. Chakotay excused himself, now that he was in the way and moved over to speak to Morgan. He was extremely thankful she had acted when she did, unable to think about what he would do if he lost the captain.
“Miss Dalton,” he nodded, pulling up a chair beside hers, “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you went to the Captain’s aid.”
She looked up at him with ocean blue eyes and the corner of her mouth twitched up in a half smile. “Morgan,” she corrected him, “I’m glad she’s going to be okay.” She really wasn’t ready to discuss the details of what she had done to those aliens, no matter how necessary it was at the time.
“She wouldn’t be, if not for you,” Chakotay continued, leaning back in his chair, “She is the life’s blood of this ship. So don’t be surprised if several people come up and thank you for saving her.”
Morgan snorted softly and smiled. “Anybody else would have done the same thing if given the chance,” she argued humbly, not wanting the First Officer to blow things out of proportion.
“True,” he agreed, “Most would. But you were given that chance. And you acted admirably.” He sensed her growing unease and decided it would be best to back off for a while and give her time to process. “Thank you again, Morgan.” He squeezed her shoulder lightly and rose, moving back over to speak with the Captain. She watched him go and wondered yet again, what the hell she’d gotten herself into.
***
B’Elanna was scrambling to finish repairs to the shield grid. She didn’t want to stay in Engineering, but regulation stated that if it was damage caused during a red alert, the Chief Engineer had to oversee the fix. Her mind was anywhere but on the job though. All through the battle, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Seven. Usually the woman was constantly under foot during a crisis, or she was on the com system, badgering Engineering for more power. Now the first time B’Elanna wanted her around, she was no where to be found.
Growling slightly as she bruised yet another knuckle, she scolded herself to pay attention to what she was doing. Try as she might though, she couldn’t get her mind off that kiss. The Klingon woman had never in her life been kissed like that. And by an amateur, no less!
A soft purr rose in her throat at the memory and B’Elanna shook her head. I am not going to start mooning over women, like… like… Paris, her mind grumbled. She threw her tool down forcefully into the case at her feet and rubbed her forehead ridges firmly.
“Chief?” Carey said, “You okay?” He was still smarting from her early shouting fit at him, but he couldn’t fault her for that. He had made a mistake in the high pressure of a battle situation, which was simply not acceptable for a Chief Engineer. Reinforcing, once again, his assurance that he was not suited for the position.
“Yeah,” she grumbled, picking up the tool and handing it to him, “You want to finish this up for me? I need to take a walk and clear my head a bit.”
“No problem, Chief,” he nodded, “I’ll take care of it.” He dug his hands into the guts of the relay conduit and looked over his shoulder. “Take your time,” he said, “If you want to come back in the morning, it’s okay. The rest of this stuff is just routine.”
B’Elanna opened her mouth to snap at him, ready to remind him, yet again, that it was her engine room, and she’d be the one to make those decisions. She hesitated though, when she realized that he was right, and she could trust her team to make sure everything was done to her liking. “I think I’ll do that, Carey,” she agreed, rubbing her ridges one more time, “But if anything unexpected happens, I want to be notified immediately. Got it?” The added bark at the end made the Human officer nod rapidly, but not without a smile.
“Got it, Chief,” he clipped. He was already elbow deep in the panel, paying more attention to the work than her.
“And don’t call me Chief,” she muttered automatically on her way out the door. B’Elanna wasn’t sure where she was heading, though her inner voice told her she would end up at the door to CargoBay 2. For some reason, she didn’t argue with it.
***
Voyager was a flurry of activity long into the night. The Hirogen vessel was online yet again, but still locked in a tractor beam. It seemed most of the crew had beamed over during the initial invasion, leaving only a maintenance worker to repair it and fire weapons. The hunters themselves had all wanted an equal chance at capturing prey.
It was still unclear exactly why they had attacked. After nearly a year of no contact with them, the crew had begun to think that they had left Hirogen space all together. That, combined with the last incident of the holoship being taken over, should have steered them clear of the Federation vessel for a long time. But everyone was at a loss to explain it.
The captured Hirogen weren’t being helpful either. Both had refused to give any indication as to why they had attacked, other than to repeat over and over that they wanted trophies. Two of the injured were still unable to give any answers, still recovering from Morgan’s rescue of the Captain. But it was hoped that they might be moved to do a little explaining when the Doctor declared them to be out of danger. The others, taken from the raid on Deck 13 were being no help at all.
Janeway paced about her quarters, wracking her brains for a reason. She knew the Hirogen were motivated by ‘The Hunt’ as they called it. But why attack a ship alone, when they knew they couldn’t win. At most, they could only have caused mild annoyance; unless, that was the point all along. “Janeway to Bridge,” she clipped after tapping her combadge.
“Bridge here, Captain,” Chakotay’s baritone came over the link, “Is there a problem?”
“Make sure you keep an eye on the long range sensors, Commander,” she instructed, “Something about this whole situation just doesn’t add up.”
“Aye, Captain,” he responded, “Should I call a meeting of the senior staff?”
“Not yet,” she shook her head in the dark, even though she knew he couldn’t see her, “Just keep me informed. I’m going to have another talk with our guests. Janeway Out.” She closed the link abruptly and shrugged on the new uniform jacket she had replicated. The Doctor had ordered her to get some rest after the long day, but she had never been in the habit of listening to him to begin with. As an added bonus, she’d actually get to talk to Morgan again. She hadn’t had the time before leaving Sickbay, to talk with her about what happened, or to thank her. With precisely that one her mind, the captain left her quarters and headed for Sickbay.
***
B’Elanna paced back and forth in front of Cargo Bay 2 for a long time. How long, she could tell, but she could swear she was wearing a hole in the flooring. The computer had confirmed when she asked that Seven was inside, along with the children. And that was what kept her outside. Questions of ‘do I go in?’ ‘what if they’re sleeping?’ ‘what excuse do I use?’ ‘do I tell her I just wanted to see her again?’ ran through her head in a litany.
“Oh this is insane,” she groused finally, stepping up to the sensor that would open the door. Strangely, nothing happened. Reflexes made her back up a step and try again to trigger the motion sensor. Still, the door remained closed. “Computer,” she called, “Why won’t this door open?”
“The door’s motion sensor is not functioning,” the female generated voice intoned neutrally.
“Perfect,” B’Elanna grumbled, tapping her combadge, “Torres to Engineering.”
“Engineering,” came Carey’s echoed reply, as he was still face down in the repair job she had left him with, “What’s up, Chief?”
“Don’t call me Chief,” she answered automatically, then added, “The door to CargoBay 2 has a dead sensor. Can you send Nicholetti up here to replace it?”
“You bet, Chief,” he acknowledged, “She’s on her way.”
“Thanks,” B’Elanna grunted, folding her arms across her chest, “Torres Out.” She was insanely grateful that he didn’t ask why she was trying to get into the CargoBay, because she wasn’t sure what to tell him. Her confusion about what transpired when she last visited the room was still strong. On one hand, she couldn’t stand being around Seven of Nine. The former Borg drone could be so annoying that it made her teeth itch. But on the other hand, the ease in which they had gravitated towards each other during that kiss made her question what she really felt.
B’Elanna knew she was unhappy with Tom Paris, and had already made the decision to end things with him. Even before she had gone on the away mission to the Ten’Dori surface. But since that talk with Captain Janeway about Seven’s misunderstood comments, the half-Klingon found herself looking at the tall blonde with a different eye. There was even a dry sense of humor there if you knew what to look for.
Nicholetti came and went during B’Elanna’s musings. The repair only took 10 minutes, and she offered a brief nod to thank the Ensign. Alone in the corridor once more, B’Elanna stood rooted to the spot. “Oh, Kahless,” she grumbled, willing herself to just step forward, “Not this again.” She had to finally look down at her feet before they would move. “Klingon hearts, my ass,” she muttered, stepping inside the CargoBay and feeling her double pulse increase to a heavy thumping, “More like the heart of a chicken.”
The lights had been dimmed in the artificially created night of the ship, bathing the large room in an eerie green glow. The alcove lights flickered over the walls like the reflection of water, B’Elanna noticed, wondering why she hadn’t seen it before. Or did I and just dismiss it, she wondered.
The Klingon woman quietly stepped up to the alcoves, walking along to see each of the children, their hands twitching lightly as they dreamed. Icheb’s alcove was still empty, with the boy recovering from surgery in Sickbay. He was due to be awakened tomorrow, she knew, the latest danger over for the time being. B’Elanna was glad for that at least. It would take some of the pressure off Seven. And maybe the Doctor would be able to come up with something soon enough to save his life.
B’Elanna stopped at the base of Seven’s alcove and looked up at her. The tall blonde looked so peaceful without the daily worries taking their toll on her lovely face. It made her look even more beautiful, if that was possible. “Beautiful?” B’Elanna muttered in disbelief. She couldn’t believe her mind was describing Seven as beautiful.
Suddenly uncomfortable with her own emotions, the half-Klingon felt as though she was intruding on Seven’s privacy. With one more lingering glance at the blonde’s peaceful face, B’Elanna silently wished her sweet dreams and retreated from the CargoBay, heading for the safety and quiet of her own quarters.
***
Captain Janeway made sure her hair was in place and her uniform was spotless when she strode purposefully into Sickbay. She wanted to omit a dominating presence that would shake up the Hirogen prisoners that had seen her so vulnerable mere hours earlier. Because she knew it was the only way she would get any answers out of them.
“Captain, I’m fairly certain I recommended at least 8 solid hours of rest,” the Doctor remarked when he saw her enter.
“Yes, I believe you did, Doctor,” she replied icily, stepping around him to stand between the two recovering Hirogen. She pointed to the leader. “Wake him up, Doctor.” Her tone left no room for argument. Never the less, the Doctor did try.
“He is still recovering from surgery, Captain,” the Doctor snapped primly.
“Will he die if you wake him up for 5 minutes, Doctor?” she prodded, a scowl on her face.
“No, but…”
“Good,” she interrupted, “Wake him. I need to ask a few questions, and then he can rest.”
The Doctor sighed dramatically, but did as she commanded, fiddling with a hypospray for the correct dosage. A soft click and a hiss of pressure were next, and in an instant, the Hirogen’s eyes began fluttering. Captain Janeway watched patiently, her anger growing all the while.
Morgan watched this exchange carefully. She knew something was wrong by the way the captain was carrying herself, and even more so by the fact that she didn’t even say hello when she entered. She didn’t need her sense of smell to tell her that Janeway was royally pissed about something. It was more than evident. And in Morgan’s mind, she had every right to be that way. She only hoped that the captain would handle the situation delicately.
“Wakey, wakey,” Janeway said sweetly to the groggy Hirogen, “It’s time for 20 questions.” She had one of those dangerous smiles plastered on her face that made most of her enemies run like hell in the other direction. And the Hirogen warrior was no exception. His eyes widened when they focused, and darted about looking for some way to escape.
“What do you want?” he asked quietly, tensing up.
“Why did you attack my ship?” Janeway growled, losing the smile instantly, “We did nothing to provoke you.” The alien warrior gasped slightly in shock at her rapid change of attitude, but otherwise gave no sign that he was intimidated.
Morgan listened to his reply, smelling the fear on him. “We wanted to Hunt,” he answered simply. The dark haired woman smirked. He was lying. The way his body tensed, his heart rate increased, and the stench of fear got stronger, almost stinging her nose.
Apparently Janeway knew it too. She had dealt with these creatures before it seemed. “Bullshit,” she hissed in his face, “You don’t attack a bigger prey unless you are sure you can bring it down. The first lesson any good Hunter should know.” The captain nearly smiled as he bristled visibly at the insult.
The Hirogen Hunter looked like he was going to say something for a moment, but then snapped his mouth shut and looked away. “Fine,” she commented with resignation, “If you won’t tell me, perhaps I’ll find it in your ship’s computer.” With that she turned and walked away from him, smiling at Morgan. “Or perhaps,” she stopped in her tracks and winked at her new friend before spinning around, “I’ll just let my rescuer talk to you.”
Morgan grinned evilly and vaulted off her biobed, sliding over beside the Captain as she approached the Hirogen once more. She allowed the animal instincts within her to emerge fully, lengthening her canines and dilating her pupils. A deep reverberating growl began in her chest and she curled her lips back, gnashing her sharp teeth together. As a final touch, Morgan raised a fist and extended one set of claws.
The Hirogen squeaked softly and nearly fainted from the shock of her quick movement. But it had the desired effect. He started talking. Babbling would be a closer word actually. So much irrelevant information spewed from his lips that Janeway had a hard time keeping up with what he was saying, but one thing did reach her ears that gave her pause. Civil War.
The Hirogen were fighting amongst themselves, to resurrect the holographic technology she had given them. The Hunter before her was of the faction that didn’t have possession of the single device Voyager had parted with, and had been hoping that a distraction on Deck 4 would have given the other team a chance to steal a holo generator before they were stopped. But since this Hunting party had never encountered Voyager or Captain Janeway, they had no idea how futile the plan was until they had been caught.
After that revelation, the Doctor insisted that his patient be allowed to sleep again, and Captain Janeway didn’t argue. She was floored by the information he had given her, and felt the guilt nearly overwhelm her. She had broken the Prime Directive willingly by giving the Hirogen that technology, but thought that their one mishap with giving the holograms sentience would have taught them to leave it alone. Apparently that wasn’t the case, and though all the technical schematics of the generator had been destroyed, one single device remained.
Morgan sensed that something within Janeway had shifted drastically, and it concerned her. “Kathryn?” she said quietly, once more back to her calm self, now that her nastier side wasn’t needed, “Do you need to talk?” She had always been good at getting the students to talk about what troubled them, but this wasn’t Xavier’s school, and Janeway wasn’t a teenager, or someone she had known for very long. That made her approach to the woman, so much guesswork.
“No,” Janeway said calmly, if a little too quickly, “Not right now. But thank you, Morgan.” Without looking at the young woman again, fearful she would see the guilt registered there, Captain Janeway left Sickbay. Not once did she look back, even though Morgan’s eyes followed her until the door closed.
Chapter Sixteen
With the coming of Alpha Shift, the ship’s internal lights rose to simulate the beginning of day watch. Most crewmembers were either just beginning their day, or just ending it. Some, however, had yet to put the previous day to rest. One such person, was Voyager’s newest addition, Morgan Dalton, a mutant from the 20th century Earth. Frozen in stasis on a foreign world for over 350 years, she was finding the change a little disconcerting, but that wasn’t what kept her from sleeping through the long night.
Morgan sat cross-legged on her biobed, watching her surroundings passively. She was still bothered by the captain’s reaction from the alien’s interrogation, even after the long hours of thinking about it. She could see the pain on Janeway’s face when the prisoner had mentioned a holo generator, but didn’t understand it at the time. Since then, she had talked to the Doctor about what happened with the species, and learned many interesting details. Non interference with other cultures was one of them; Starfleet’s first law, the Prime Directive.
The Doctor had also told her at great length about the Hirogen and Voyager’s many encounters with them. Including the last time they tried to take over the ship, and ultimately ended up with the technology. This more than anything, made Morgan understand why Janeway had looked so stricken. The captain had violated her own ideals and the Prime Directive, giving them the holo generator in return for their word they would leave Voyager alone.
Less than a year later, the Doctor had told her, that same technology turned on the Hirogen, and Voyager was faced with saving the lives of the aliens that had tried to enslave the crew. And now, the same technology that had kept Voyager safe through most of Hirogen space, was the ‘Holy Grail’ of a civil war that could serve to destroy an entire people. No wonder she looked like she was going to faint, Morgan thought with a sigh. She wanted to help, but outside of offering to listen, there wasn’t much she could do.
The door of Sickbay hissing open jolted her from her thoughts and she looked up in time to see a tall, well-poised, blonde enter. She moved across the floor with purpose in her stride, stopping abruptly at a biobed in the far corner. Morgan blinked quietly, sniffing the air, and catching a fresh human scent, strangely mixed with the metal tang of machinery. That must be Seven, she thought, watching her movements with interest.
Seven made it part of her schedule to visit with Icheb in Sickbay after dropping the children off at their lessons. She knew that Hirogen prisoners would be in Sickbay if not the Brig, along with Security officers, also their newest addition to the crew had not been released from the Doctor’s care, but that was irrelevant. It was her duty to see to the care of all the children. She knew this morning would be the last visit to Sickbay before Icheb was revived and allowed to return to his alcove, as the Doctor had scheduled removal of the medical gel pack for 1600 hours that afternoon.
She knew that the woman she and B’Elanna had found was awake and watching her, but she was used to the stares she had received from the crew. Seven was much more interested in scanning Icheb with her own ocular implant to ascertain his condition before attempting to greet the woman. She also had a matter to discuss with the Doctor, but that was secondary to spending time with Icheb.
The day before, B’Elanna had told her they would focus on making Icheb well again before attempting to explore what had transpired between them. However, Seven found this difficult to do. She had been plagued with dreams of their kiss all through her regeneration. Both before and after the red alert attack that had automatically interrupted her cycle. She had personally reprogrammed her alcove to wake only her and leave the children sleeping unless there was a containment breech in the CargoBay.
Her assessment of Icheb finished, Seven decided to go in search of the Doctor, to inquire about resuming her social lessons once the latest danger with the Hirogen had passed. She did not wish to be ill prepared for whatever she and B’Elanna would be deciding. “Activate EMH,” Seven called into the air, mildly surprised when nothing happened.
“Um,” Morgan finally shifted and spoke to the blonde woman, “He said he was going off-line to do a diagnostic or… something.” She shrugged and smiled, not accustomed to using the linguistics of this century. “He said it would only take 10 minutes or so.”
Seven nodded and turned to face Morgan. “Then I shall wait,” she said very matter-of-factly, “Perhaps we should engage in… small talk.”
“Pardon?” Morgan blinked.
“Many individuals, including Captain Janeway and the Doctor have expressed that I should attempt to learn the art of small talk,” Seven explained, “It will greatly assist members of the crew in being more ‘at ease’ in my presence.”
Morgan chuckled softly. “That is a logical theory,” she conceded, “If a little flawed.”
“Clarify,” Seven intoned, a frown creasing her brow, “How can such a statement be logical, yet flawed at the same time?”
“Trying to make others comfortable by letting them get to know you is certainly a worthwhile pursuit,” the dark haired woman acknowledged, “But if you are uncomfortable with a certain action, others can sense it. That, in turn, will make others uncomfortable and widen the social gap between you and the crew.”
“I see,” Seven nodded, “That is a very concise and efficient answer. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Morgan smiled, and then held out her hand in greeting, “My name is Morgan Dalton, by the way.”
Seven glanced at her hand before remembering one of the Doctor’s lessons about the ‘handshake’ and grasped the offered hand, shaking it gently. “I am Seven of Nine,” she responded easily, “You may call me, Seven.”
Morgan smiled easily. “Please call me, Morgan,” she replied in kind, then added, “Would you like to sit down?” She patted the biobed invitingly.
“I prefer to stand,” Seven answered automatically.
“Well it seems irrelevant to discuss the topic of weather,” Morgan ventured with a smile. She was glad to see an answering smirk on Seven’s face. “How about I begin the conversation by telling you that Captain Janeway mentioned you at dinner yesterday,” she continued, “She believes that we could both benefit from the exchange of information relative to adaptation in this environment.” Morgan was very careful to use a blend of her own vocabulary and Seven’s to make the staunch woman feel more at ease.
“Indeed,” Seven nodded, looking interested, “The Captain expressed a similar thought to me as well, during Alpha shift yesterday.”
“You disagree?”
“On the contrary,” she corrected, “I believe my experiences in learning to adapt to this crew could benefit your integration.” Seven paused.
“However,” Morgan continued for her, “You don’t believe I have anything to contribute that will assist you.”
“A basic version of my intended statement,” Seven acknowledged, “But essentially you are correct.”
Morgan simply smiled. “You’d be surprised, Seven,” she said cryptically, “What even the most mismatched people can teach each other.”
“Indeed,” Seven raised her eyebrow, the silver and gold implant over her eye moving with it, “Please clarify.”
“Well,” Morgan began, leaning back against the wall, “You were Borg. Taken against your will at a young age, and 18 years later, thrust into an environment where everyone is uncomfortable around you. Some individuals even hate you. Unless you pretend to be something you’re not.” She paused for a moment, mentally thanking the absent Doctor for sharing those details with her. It wasn’t until her long talk with him while she couldn’t sleep that Morgan realized how much she and Seven did have in common.
“Simplified, but accurate,” the ex-Borg nodded.
“I, on the other hand,” she continued, “Experienced a genetic change, that was against my will, also at a young age, and after many years of testing and learning to control my new found abilities, was forced into an environment where everyone either hated or feared what I was. Unless I hid what I was and attempted to pretend I was something else entirely.”
Seven’s eyes widened perceptibly as the information sank in, and she blinked at the woman before her. “I understand,” she said very softly, a slight hint of awe in her voice, “While the details of our lives to this point have been different, we can both understand the experiences of the other. While at the same time being totally unique. And it is that uniqueness that is our largest similarity.”
“Exactly,” Morgan nodded with a smile.
“I will have to examine this further,” Seven stated, just as a chime sounded, announcing the end of the Doctor’s self diagnostic, “Perhaps we can discuss this at a later time.”
“I look forward to it, Seven,” she said, with genuine feeling. Morgan was deeply intrigued by the young woman, and could see her becoming a good friend. She reclined on the biobed when the Doctor was activated, and looked up at the ceiling. She didn’t rise when Seven left, nor when the Doctor began moving around Sickbay. With all the excitement of the last few days, Morgan slipped off into a deep sleep without even realizing she had done it, falling into dreams of terrible mobs chasing her through darkened streets, and a protector with long auburn hair that promised to save her.
***
Most of the day passed uneventfully for the crew. The Hirogen Hunters had been taken to the Brig, pending the Captain’s decision about how to handle the situation, ship wide repairs were nearly complete, and Morgan was being released from Sickbay. Commander Chakotay had found quarters for her the day before, but it was only her insistence to the Doctor that she felt find, and his inability to find anything wrong with her, that allowed her to finally check them out.
Morgan waited for her escort to arrive in Sickbay before attempting to find her own way. The ship wasn’t overly large, she knew, but it would still be very possible to lose her way. Before the trouble with the Hirogen had begun, Captain Janeway had promised to show Morgan around the entire ship, as well as walk her to the new living space she had been assigned, but for some reason, the former X-Man wasn’t counting on her appearance.
Not that she believed Janeway would deliberately brush her off, rather the captain would be too busy with plans for the prisoners and solving the problem they had brought to her. So she was greatly surprised when lunchtime came, and in walked the Captain’s regal figure.
“I hear you’re being released,” Janeway said by way of greeting, stepping up to the biobed and nodding at the Doctor, who insisted on a final scan of his soon to be former patient, “So I thought I’d come spring ya, Thelma.”
Morgan blinked at her for a long moment, and then smiled in relief. “Yep, the warden here granted me parole,” she replied smartly, “So how ‘bout we fire up the caddy and blow this joint, Louise?” The moment the Doctor pronounced her fit, she leapt off the biobed, and bolted for the door, leaving a stunned Captain rooted to the spot. Pausing at the door, she turned and flashed a smile at Janeway. “You coming, slowpoke?”
Janeway laughed softly and shook her head. “Thank you, Doctor,” she told the hologram, and followed a very happy Morgan out of her former prison.
“Feeling better today?” the dark haired woman ventured carefully as they entered the turbolift.
“Deck 3,” Janeway intoned for the computer, then turned to regard her new friend calmly, “Not especially, but I’m handling it a little better. I’m sorry for my abruptness last night. It was just a little overwhelming.”
“Fair enough,” Morgan answered, stepping off the turbolift when the doors opened, “The Doctor filled me in on the Hirogen and all the trouble you’ve had with them over the last couple of years.”
“Well it certainly hasn’t been dull,” Janeway agreed, turning a corner and bringing them up to a nondescript door. She keyed in a code on the door panel and made a grand gesture when the door hissed open. “Your suite M’Lady.”
Morgan read the shining plaque above the door panel and blinked, not yet stepping inside. “Kathryn, these are the Doctor’s quarters,” she protested, seeing the letters CMO above the cabin number.
“No, these are the Chief Medical Officer’s quarters,” the captain corrected, giving her a little push into the room, “The Doctor is the EMH program, remember? Even though he’s sentient, he lives in the computer and mainly stays in Sickbay. Voyager’s CMO died in the accident that stranded us out here. These quarters have been vacant ever since.”
Morgan nodded slowly and began looking around, impressed with the size. “Geez, Kathryn,” she commented, wandering around slowly and peeking into the bedroom and bathroom, “This place is bigger than my first apartment.”
Janeway chuckled. “Well if it takes us a while to get where we’re going,” she offered, “Then you’re going to be living here a long time. You might as well be comfortable, right?”
Morgan grinned. “Right,” she agreed, “So how about a drink?” That got a genuine smile.
“What’s your poison?” Janeway asked, stepping up to the replicator and activating its power. The buttons lit up and she began tapping in a few codes, accessing the Earth recipe database so that Morgan wouldn’t have to sift through everything to get a decent meal.
“How about a double hit of Bacardi Dark on the rocks,” she suggested, flopping down on the sofa to test its spring.
Janeway smiled at Morgan’s behavior and shook her head. “Double Barcardi Dark on the rocks, and coffee, black,” she told the replicator, watching her order materialize. Morgan raised an eyebrow at her and the Captain shrugged. “I’m still on duty,” she explained, handing over the tumbler.
“Ah,” Morgan nodded, “Gotcha.” She took a small sip and groaned happily. “This is one of the few things I missed when the war started,” she said, holding up the glass, “Always that one little treat I very seldomly indulged in. Usually after some mission or another that we had completed.”
“Like chocolate?” Janeway smirked, sipping her coffee and tucking her feet up under her as she sat on the sofa.
“Hardly,” Morgan chuckled, “Chocolate is one of the four food groups.” She winked slyly. “Rather like coffee.”
Janeway laughed and held up her mug. “Here’s to getting a balanced diet,” she toasted.
“The alcohol messes up my senses actually,” she finished explaining to the Captain, knowing she would wonder about that statement until it was finished.
“Messing up the senses a little can be a good thing,” Janeway supplied helpfully.
“True,” Morgan agreed, taking another tiny sip of her drink, “But it’s much like giving a bottle of beer to a house cat. Funny as hell to watch the cat stumble around for a few hours, but in a different light, not good for the cat’s physiology. Because of my abilities, booze just isn’t processed the same way. So I only allow myself a little bit every once in a while.”
“Makes sense,” Janeway nodded, “And having you stumbling around drunk would be considerably more dangerous than an inebriated cat, I would think.”
Morgan smirked and raised her glass. “Here, here.”
“Speaking of your presence on the ship,” Janeway continued, “Have you thought of what you’d like to do? I know we could always use more security officers. And from the way you handle yourself in a crisis, I’m sure Tuvok could easily find a place for you.”
“I actually haven’t given much thought to that yet,” Morgan admitted honestly, staring into her glass, “I think I need a little time to familiarize myself with this century before I take on any job. If that’s okay?”
“Absolutely, Morgan,” Janeway nodded, smiling, “The data terminal in here will give you access to Earth and Federation history in the ship’s computer, and anything else you find an interest in.”
“That sounds like a good place to start,” she agreed, finishing up her drink.
“How about we get together for dinner a few times a week to go over any questions you come up with?” the Captain suggested helpfully, more than happy to devote the time to nurturing her new found friend.
Morgan smiled easily. “That sounds great, Kathryn,” she said, looking forward to spending more time together. She was intrigued by the commanding woman, and wanted to get to know her better.
She was disappointed when Janeway informed her that she had to go, but Morgan understood that her duty had to come first. There was still the matter of what to do about the Hirogen, up in the air, and the command staff was still split down the middle about what course of action to take. Half wanted to just keep moving and take their chances, and the other half felt just as guilty as the Captain, and thought it was their duty to right the wrong.
After promising to have dinner the following night, Janeway left Morgan’s delightful company and returned to the Bridge, leaving the new arrival to fend for herself in the cavernous quarters. She wasn’t sure she would be able to relax in such a large and unfamiliar place, but that fear soon eased as she found her way into the ship’s computer system. “Let’s see what I missed,” Morgan muttered to herself quietly, beginning far back with what she last remembered; The Eugenics War. She settled back with the rest of Janeway’s coffee, left steaming on the table, and started to read.
Chapter Seventeen
Over the next few days, Voyager ran smoothly. The senior staff was occupied with figuring out the Hirogen mess, trying to come up with options on how to destroy the holo generator without endangering the ship, and Morgan was rapidly consuming every piece of literature she could find on Earth history. Which gave her much to talk about with Kathryn Janeway, as their plan to meet every so often for dinner, had become every evening for dinner and conversation that lead well into the night. This pleased her to no end, because she not only got to learn the finer points of human evolution over the centuries, but also bits about the Captain’s life. And learning about the Captain was a very good thing.
Somewhere during their long conversations, Morgan found herself becoming quite attracted to Kathryn Janeway. She was a strong, confident woman, with a broad range of interests. Just the type of woman that Morgan found alluring. She kept her mouth shut though, knowing that Kathryn only talked about the previous men in her life, with no mention of women at all. Morgan was sure it was simply an infatuation that would end itself in time, and tried to spend her time focusing on research about the historical milestones that she had missed.
One of the most notable things she had found so far was that she just barely missed the historical First Contact. When the warp barrier had been broken, Earth was considered developed enough to be visited, and the great story of Starfleet began. Morgan knew she shouldn’t be so surprised at how far technology had progressed in the 350 years she was gone. After all, Earth had gone from pre-industrial to exploring the confines of their solar system in less than 200 years before she was even born.
Another wonderful side effect of her discovery by the lost ship was that she had become very popular. Everyone wanted to know her, simply because she was someone new. Someone they didn’t see every day. Morgan was happy for every visitor she received, from Neelix bringing her new concoctions to sample, to little Naomi Wildman coming to ask if she would like to learn Kadis-Kot. Even Seven had found time to stop by for another chat. Where Morgan had thought she would end up bored and suffering from cabin fever, she now realized that it was almost impossible for her to be alone long enough to reach that state.
“Computer,” she called quietly, “Please state the time.” She hadn’t planned on company for dinner, but Captain Janeway had been over every night, and tonight should be no different.
“The time is now 1754 hours,” the computer’s soft feminine voice answered. Morgan nodded silently and stood up to stretch. She had been hunched over reading for several hours, and it felt good to move around. If the Captain was going to show up, it would be close to 1900 hours before she arrived, so Morgan decided to soak out some of the stiffness in a bubble bath.
Setting the tub to auto-fill, Morgan peeled out of her clothes, tossing them into a chair by the bed to clean later. She had figured out, with Janeway’s help of course, how to recycle them to be worn again; the 24th century version of a washing machine. She examined her naked body in front of the bathroom mirror with a critical eye, not entirely displeased with what she saw. Flat stomach, firm breasts, toned muscles; not bad for 400 plus years old. To look at her, even naked, one couldn’t even tell she was a mutant and former X-Man.
Her reflections didn’t last long, however, and by the time the large tub had finished filling, the door chime sounded. “Shit,” Morgan grumbled, pulling on the white robe she had found hanging on a hook just inside the bathroom.
“Come in,” she called, tying the sash around her small waist and stepping into the main room. Her annoyance faded instantly, however, when she saw who had disturbed her. “Kathryn,” she smiled, “I didn’t expect you at least for another hour or so.”
“I’m sorry,” Janeway said, “I finished my meetings a little early today and thought I’d drop by. Sorry if I interrupted anything.”
“Not at all,” Morgan said, motioning her inside, “Please sit down. I was just going to take a hot bath, but it can certainly wait.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the captain apologized, moving towards the door as if to leave, “I can come back another time.” Morgan reached out and caught her arm, halting the retreat. There was something different in Kathryn’s mannerisms tonight, and the dark haired woman noticed right away. Morgan could smell her anxiousness, so much stronger tonight than usual, and her pulse was racing.
“No, no,” the former X-Man soothed, releasing the Captain from her gentle grip, “The temperature controls will keep the water hot. I’d much rather enjoy your company than sit in these quarters alone.” She smiled warmly, and motioned her back toward the sofa. When Janeway passed her, Morgan sniffed the air, curious about what was making her react in such a way. The Captain was never hesitant about anything she said or did. What could make her change overnight? What she caught in the air with her sensitive nose just about knocked her over with shock. Pheromones.
Kathryn is excited, her internal voice supplied helpfully. Oh this was not going to help. Where ever she had come from before arriving at Morgan’s quarters, it had fired her right up. So much for ignoring the infatuation until it went away. It was looking more and more like there were a lot of cold showers in her future.
“So did you have the regular parade of visitors today?” Janeway asked, trying to strike up conversation as she lowered herself to what was quickly becoming ‘her spot’ on the sofa, tucked up on the end facing the easy chair Morgan always relaxed in.
The young woman moved to the replicator to order their regular coffees. “Some of them,” Morgan replied, “But it was a slow day compared to the last few. I think the ‘new person’ aura is wearing off.” She smiled at Kathryn’s soft laugh and raised an eyebrow. “The usual?”
“Actually,” Janeway countered, “How about a bourbon on the rocks?” To Morgan’s credit, she didn’t fall over immediately, but requested the bourbon and an iced coffee. At least she could dump it down her pants if need be.
“You going to tell me what… or who has you all fired up, Kathryn?” Morgan’s soft voice flowed out at almost a whisper as she handed the tumbler over. Janeway’s head shot up and she looked at the other woman in shock, her mouth opening to ask how she knew. The dark haired woman simply raised her eyebrow and tapped the side of her nose gently.
“Can’t seem to get anything past you,” the captain said, looking down into her drink. She took a sip, stalling to think about her words.
“If you don’t want to tell me,” Morgan began, seeing the discomfort on her friend’s face, and not wanting to press that any further.
“It’s not that,” Janeway broke in quickly, looking up, “As a matter of fact, I just spent the better part of the afternoon talking with Tuvok about that very issue.” Morgan simply sat and listened, content to let Kathryn get it out in her own way and at her own pace.
Another sip of bourbon, and the woman behind the Captain began to emerge, ever so slowly. “I asked for his help with a personal matter,” she said quietly, “About an… an attraction I’m beginning to develop towards… someone.”
So that’s the way this is going to be played, hunh? Morgan’s mind supplied helpfully. “Okay,” she said, “And his advice was what, exactly?”
Janeway imitated Tuvok’s voice almost perfectly. “Resolving this issue now will benefit you more in the long run than attempting to ignore it,” she said quietly, raising her eyebrow as her Security Chief often did. “That’s why I’m a bit early tonight.”
“Sound advice,” Morgan agreed, and meant it. Ignoring it had only increased her need to be close to Kathryn, and was making it harder and harder for her to control herself. A thought occurred to her and she smiled, looking at the Captain from the corner of her eye. “How long were you standing outside my door, Kathryn?”
Janeway blushed, found out. “About 20 minutes,” she said honestly, finally looking up to meet Morgan’s eyes. She chuckled softly at herself. “I guess you think this is pretty ridiculous,” she surmised, a self-depreciating tone in her voice.
“Not at all,” Morgan stated honestly, “To tell you the truth, when you breezed in here tonight, I was sure the hot bath would have to be revised to a cold shower after you left.” The look of surprise on the Captain’s face nearly made her laugh. “Well, now that we know,” the raven haired woman said, “What do we do about it?”
“I don’t know, Morgan,” Kathryn said quietly, “I really don’t.”
“We don’t have to decide anything now,” she assured, laying a hand on Janeway’s arm, “Perhaps it will be enough that we know we’re attracted to each other. We’re grown women, and we can handle whatever happens or doesn’t happen from there.”
Janeway smiled, and her face seemed to brighten just a little at that. “You’re right,” she nodded, “It’s already a weight off my chest that you know.”
“I know the feeling,” Morgan smirked, leaning back with her drink. Then, changing the topic to something a little less deep, she said, “So, tell me about your day.” She saw the Captain smile, and began to recite all that they had discussed about the Hirogen problem, and the ship’s repairs that were still ongoing. It was shaping up to be a very good evening indeed.