by: Carolee Wende
rated: PG-13 (J, 7, Tu, Ay, EMH & C)
No one on the ship was being spared the portent of the gathering storm; crackling tension was about to arc. The clouds of discontent had been gathering for quite a while, beginning as wisps of distrust and now billowing into thunderheads of repugnance. They were about to collide in a cataclysmic convergence. Regardless of the outcome, life on Voyager would never be the same.
The Captain and Seven were on a collision course.
God help them all...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"ARGHHHHH!!!!!!" came the combined groan and plea, as Janeway lunged with her laser for the blue metallic disk zipping inches from her head, collapsing in a prone position on the floor as she did so.
"SIZZZZZLLLLLL....ZAPPPPP!" came the sound of a successful connection of her laser aim with the target. The air hissed with the disappearance of the flying object.
"Game over; Janeway, winner," stated the computer voice.
"Good game, Seven; you are showing much improvement," said the older woman, as she smoothed her tunic and pushed her hair back from her perspiration-coated face. The captain uprighted herself from the fallen position she was in on the floor of the holodeck. Still somewhat lightheaded from the frenzied game of "Velocity", she bumped into the control panel behind her, activating several commands, including the start-up of another game. She quickly negatated the start-up sequence.
"Cease game initiation," she called to the computer.
"I wish to play another game," the tall blonde woman pouted back. "I must learn how to win."
"No, Seven. That's enough for today," Janeway stated matter-of- factly, shaking her head as she reached for a towel by the door of the recreation area. The doors opened, and she began her exit.
"You do not want to play, just because you are fatigued. How human of you!" said the hybrid human.
Janeway sighed. "Yes, I am tired. But, we have played three games, and that is quite sufficient for today. Seven, you must learn that you cannot win every time."
"But I must learn. I am Borg..."
"You are *not* Borg anymore... and loosing is human. That's enough, Seven." The older woman continued her departure.
But Seven was not satisfied.
"You are afraid that I *will* win. You want to have one skill at which you are superior to me, and that is why you will not continue."
Kathryn Janeway came back into the interior of the holodeck.
"That is not true, Seven, and you know it. We all have our skills on this ship, and we share those areas of expertise with others. There is not need for feeling that you must be superior to everyone in all areas."
The pale blue eyes of the younger woman became as ice as they pierced Janeway's.
"I *am* superior to all on this ship... even you, Captain Janeway."
The captain's Irish blood was rising quickly to a boiling point.
"You may have most of your assimilated Borg knowledge, Seven; but what you lack is the human ability to discern the finer points... the ability to judge ideas and understand feelings. It's coming... and you have proven yourself an excellent student. But it takes time... and experience... to reach that point."
"You are saying that... I will understand this... when I get older."
Janeway nodded, with her little crooked smile brightening her tired face.
"You could say that..."
"But I do not wish to get old... like you..." the tall woman answered.
The smile left Janeway's face.
"Well, you are mostly human now... and you *will* get older."
"But I will not age rapidly as you have."
Janeway was now at 200 degrees F... getting *very* close to an explosive level.
"Perhaps these recent years have not been kind to me. But, let me tell you... I've aged more since *you've* come aboard than I have the rest of this disastrous mission combined!"
A slight flush in Seven's cheeks indicated that the captain's statement had reached its mark.
"So... I am a hardship for you."
"Let's just say that you are a constant challenge..."
"You are intimidated by my skills."
"Perhaps. But, we learn from each other, Seven. And, just like our game right now, you must learn patience." The older woman laughed softly. "Youth is always impatient..."
Seven was now on the offensive.
"I am not impatient; I merely wish to proceed with actions as soon as possible."
*Temper, Kathryn!* Janeway thought before proceeding. "Perhaps it would be best if you went back to your alcove and reflected on today's games. See if you can recall the techniques I used to win..."
"I learn best by doing."
Another sigh. "Enough, Seven. We will play again tomorrow."
But the Borg/human still would not concede.
"Captain, do you always postpone situations that might signal your defeat?"
The hot button had been pushed. Janeway turned and charged over to the younger woman.
"I have *never* run away from a threat!" she spat out through clenched teeth. "Have you ever known me to turn and run from an enemy?"
"Perhaps not, if you have your crew behind you. I am asking about you, personally..."
"Do you consider yourself my 'enemy'?" asked the captain, only inches from Seven's face.
"No more than I consider you mine, Captain Janeway. It is more... certain situations that you avoid... circumstances that prove uncomfortable for you."
"That is probably true. But, that's another human characteristic... to avoid displeasing predicaments. It is not unacceptable; it is merely a... survival skill." Janeway suddenly retreated a few steps, loosing herself in a private world, as if recalling times when she had backed off.
Seven studied Janeway's expression for a moment before responding.
"Captain, I have noticed that you tend to change the subject of a conversation if it is unpleasant to you. Is this not a form of discomfort avoidance?"
"I just don't want particular subjects made public... topics that are certain to cause... provocation. We live in a very closed community, and I must attempt to be conciliatory at all costs."
"And that is the reason you seem so superior... so that you may judge..."
Again Janeway could feel the heat flushing her face.
"I am not superior, Seven. I just must remain... detached, so that I do not show any... favoritism."
The younger woman became acutely alert at her use of the word "favoritism".
"So... there is someone whom you favor above any other person on board?"
"I did not say that..."
"Would that person be Commander Chakotay?"
The older woman's face was now livid.
"Seven, that is none of your..."
"Captain, you have told me that I must be more... cognizant... of the feelings of others. I have noticed that there are certain ways that you and the Commander touch and look at each other. Sometimes your words... seem to have a meaning only for each other."
Janeway once more imposed her face into Seven's.
"I told you, Seven... this is none of your business!"
"Are you afraid of what might happen if you let him know how you feel about him?"
"I can sense that he is frustrated because of your refusal to... favor him." She looked at the velocity laser wand in her hand, and smiled provocatively. "Perhaps I should ask Commander Chakotay to tutor me in this game; the physical activity would be good for him..."
The threatening explosion inside Janeway burst through the remaining inhibiting layers. In a split second, she turned towards the taunting woman.
"That's it, Seven... you've gotten to me now! LEAVE CHAKOTAY ALONE!"
Her right arm suddenly raised and flashed towards the still- perfectly coiled blonde hair, pulling it down over Seven's face.
"That is not, wise, Captain. I am stronger than you," she stated, gently but firmly shoving Janeway back towards the wall. "Perhaps the Commander would like someone who can appreciate him," she continued, pinning Janeway to the wall.
Janeway flexed her arms, contracting her muscles. She swiftly brought up her forearms, breaking Seven's hold, and just as quickly grabbed Seven's left arm, twisting it painfully behind her. The Borg was immobilized momentarily.
"Oh, I appreciate him... and he knows it!" the senior woman seethed.
Seven's lithe body twisted at the waist, and she caught her elbow in Janeway's ribcage, pushing her back and breaking the grip on her immobilized arm. The motion had enough impetus that Janeway fell backwards, landing hard on her... rear.
"Ooooffff..." the older woman grunted, quickly arighting herself and lunging towards the long legs of her adversary. She hooked her arms around Seven's lower limbs, and Seven suddenly found herself on the floor with her captain.
It was now a no-holds-barred free-for-all, as the two women made uninhibited grabs for whatever body part or clothing piece was available to grip.
Seven's hair became a tumbled mess of tangled tresses. Janeway's tunic suffered split seams and a ripped neckline. Fingernails dug into tensed forearms and soft cheeks. Legs locked and pulled; hands grabbed at any target. Screams and spits and shouts worthy of any Klingon battle echoed off the walls of the metal holodeck, threatening to reverberate into the surrounding halls of the spaceship.
Seven's youthful strength was countermanded at every turn by Janeway's tried and true defense tactics. The fierce battle raged for fifteen long minutes, with neither woman willing to concede.
Janeway then saw her opportunity. She reached up and behind the tall woman's neck, finding the vulnerable spot. A quick pinch into the trapezius area of Seven's neck, where a remaining Borg implant intertwined with the muscle and nerve complex, immobilized her challenger. Seven's eyes opened wide in sudden shocked surprise... then shut quickly, as temporary paralysis overcame her. Her tall form lost its rigidity, and she sank to the floor.
The ship's commander knew that she had not inflicted permanent damage on the young woman, but she quickly straddled Seven's somnolent form, ascertaining that her breathing and pulse were all right. She reached around with her right hand, placing her fingers under Seven's dilated nostrils, while feeling for the thumping pulse of her carotid artery with her left hand.
Her concentration was startled away from her examination by the sound of the holodeck's doors opening. In her compromising position, she looked up at the three people who had just entered --- Tuvok and Lt. Ayala, with phasers openly ready for action, and the doctor with a grimaced expression.
"Captain, are you all right?" Tuvok asked, attempting to conceal his surprise at the scene before him.
Janeway hurriedly stood to full attention, with Seven's unmoving body seductively lying on its side on the floor. The captain's tunic was torn and hanging limply. Her leotard had four large holes ripped in the legs. Her right cheek bore three bleeding tracks, and she was noticeably limping as she approached her officers. The EMH immediately ran to her, scanning her more obvious injuries. He promptly repaired her physical damage; however, she remained looking quite disheveled and shaken.
"Yes, I'm fine, Mr. Tuvok, Doctor. It seems that... um... Seven and I had a... difference in opinion on a certain... er... matter.
The security chief was scrutinizing the scene in front of him, and raised his right eyebrow.
"Indeed... and just what was this disparity of ideas? How to best subdue an Algorian mammoth?" he asked with his ever-so-dry Vulcan wit.
The doctor was still all frowns, as he shook his head commenting, "Really, Captain... I would have thought that you were above such demeaning shenanigans." He was now attending the slowly stirring woman on the floor.
"And what did you do to Seven? It seems that she has had several peripheral neural synapses disrupted," he stated as he continued.
Tuvok's stare was cataloging the carnage in front of him. His continued silent visual chastisement of his superior officer was as punishing as any reprimand Kathryn Janeway had ever received from her father.
"Tuvok... you mustn't make any judgment about this without knowing the events that..."
"Pardon me, Captain, but I really do not think that the details are necessary. In fact, I believe, in the interest of ship morale, that any reports of this incident should remain private, among the five of us. I would advise that the matter be sequestered. It would seem that you and Seven are in need of a mediator to resolve an obvious conflict, do you not agree?"
Ayala was now with the doctor, helping Seven to her feet. The tall woman seemed somewhat unsteady for a few seconds, but quickly regained full control of her stature. She squared her shoulders and looked at Janeway.
"Captain Janeway... I believe that you have proven one thing to me... that when you are cornered, you do know how protect your best interests," she stated unemotionally but in an unsteady voice.
The EMH was adjusting the dislodged Borg implant on her neck and had determined that there was no function loss. The dermal regenerator quickly resolved the scratches and bruises that she had on her hands and face. He then stepped back, observing her stretched and snagged jumpsuit.
"Oh... and just look at my handiwork! It will take at least two dozen replicator rations to make repairs to this garment!"
The captain cleared her throat, recalling the doctor's attention to her own rather ragged garments. He looked at her.
"Hmmmmmm... it *does* seem that we have need for a wardrobe mistress here." His sigh indicated that he understood that that he would be making some other repairs.
Ayala was supporting Seven, who seemed somewhat subdued by the situation. Janeway walked over to her young adversary, a sheepish yet determined look on her face.
"Seven, I believe I owe you an apology. I was in error in allowing our...um... discussion to get out of hand. Perhaps I have proven that experience can usually overcome pure physicality. However, you have also taught me something... that I should not take relationships for granted. I intend to follow through on that knowledge as soon as I can."
The captain's eyes then gripped those of Seven in a lock as deadly as any Vulcan deathgrip as she said, "And there will be no more threats of hostile takeovers of... things... that are... mine. Understood?"
Seven's face became quite pale, as she absorbed Kathryn Janeway's ultimatum. Never again would she dare use Commander Chakotay as a pawn in her power games with Janeway. She looked at the senior officer with a freezing stare as she started to leave.
"Understood."
"And, Seven, I think that we should abide by Mr. Tuvok's suggestion that we mention nothing about this incident."
"Agreed. Is that all, Captain?"
Janeway walked towards her, her hand extended. "Yes, that's all... for now."
Seven hesitatingly reached her hand forward, and the two women shook hands.
Janeway's quirky grin came across her face.
"Will you be ready for another game of Velocity tomorrow?"
Seven looked at her with resolution.
"Yes. And tomorrow... I shall win."
The young woman then swiftly left, to return to the healing atmosphere of her alcove.
Janeway turned to Lt. Ayala.
"Thank you for your concern, Mr. Ayala. That will be all."
"Yes, ma'am," the junior officer said, as he pivoted towards the door. His face reflected no emotion of the situation.
After he had left, she turned to Tuvok.
"He will be discrete, will he not?"
The Vulcan nodded seriously. "Of course."
"And, Doctor... you know that this is..."
"Doctor-patient confidentiality. Yes, yes... I understand, Captain. Are you certain you are all right?"
"Nothing that a nice warm, soaking bath won't heal now, Doctor. Thank you for your attention and help," she said as he took his leave.
It was now just Janeway and her dear friend.
"How did you know that there was a problem, Tuvok?" she queried.
The tall dark man walked over to the holodeck control panel on the wall. He closely examined the various commands in operation on the large padd, and nodded with comprehension as he touched one of the lit areas. He then turned to a baffled Kathryn Janeway.
"It would seem, Captain, that somehow or another you activated a communication channel to Commander Chakotay's ready room. He was in that area, and overheard a rather heated... discussion... that suddenly escalated. He notified me, and that's when I came."
Janeway's face drained of all color, remembering how earlier she had hit the wall panel. It must have occurred then, activating the message link-up to his office! Her legs became liquid, and she wondered if she could remain standing.
"You mean... that Commander Chakotay... overheard... our entire... conversation? The things that we said... what we did..."
"He did indicate that he heard many... interesting statements. Perhaps you would like to have him participate in any conflict resolution sessions we might have?"
Voyager's captain began to laugh nervously... in a laugh that Tuvok had never heard from her before.
"No... no... that won't be necessary, Tuvok. I'm sure that the Commander and I... can work things out. Thank you, anyway. You have performed your job above and beyond the call of duty. I'll... I'll talk with you later... about how this will go into the ship's logs."
"Yes, Captain. Shall I go now? Do you need assistance in getting back to your quarters?"
"No, I'm fine, Tuvok. I'm fine. Go... and thank you." She was shaking her head in some sort of a disbelief reaction as he left.
He had heard it all... he knew! How was she going to face him? What was she going to say?
She sighed as she looked around at the battle-scarred holodeck. Thank goodness it would regenerate without a problem! She deactivated the holodeck program and walked towards the door, her head lowered in concentrated thought. As she rounded the corner out into the hall, she ran... headfirst into...
Chakotay!
"Good afternoon, Captain. Did you and Seven enjoy your time in the holodeck?" he smiled at her. "Would you care to share with me what all happened?" he said as he laughingly grabbed her in an encompassing hug while brushing back a misplaced lock of her damp hair.
She buried her embarrassed face in his chest, as she murmured, "Would I be playing favorites?"
"I would hope so," he said, as he put his arm around her shoulder and they headed off to the turbolift, laughing. "I would hate to think that *she* was your favorite!"