Disclaimer:
The characters are the property of Paramount and were created by Kate Mulgrew, Jeri Ryan and the wonderful cast of Star Trek: Voyager.
This is strictly a non-profit operation: the rewards are in the writing and feedback. If you’re under 18, or have a
problem with consenting adults in a same-sex relationship, now is the time to find something else to read. Do not post or
reprint without author’s permission. © 2007 by BeachBum
OK DAx, challenge accepted! Believe it or not, both DAx and I came up with very similar
story arcs independent of each other. So we decided to square off head to head and take our best shots. I hope you enjoy!
Acknowledgements:
I cannot thank Lyric, Susan, Annie or LZClotho enough for their phenomenal beta-reading skills, encouragement and late-night
hand-holding. Ladies, you save me from myself and my terminal mis-use of the ellipse not to mention chronic comma abuse.
CHAPTER 14
Saturday morning dawned clear and cold. As she stepped onto the porch Janeway realized that Seven would
need warmer outerwear if they were to continue visiting the farm. Seven had researched the MIT-Daystrom Institute to find
that during the upcoming winter months, cold weather and heavy snow were the norm in the Boston area. So when they’d
finished breakfast they took a quick trip into town to get Seven a parka. They returned with a multi-season jacket usable
from early fall through late spring. It would allow Seven the freedom to transport to several stations around the university
and research complexes in Cambridge and walk to her labs at the Institute. She was looking forward to wearing it without its
insulating liner for the party that afternoon.
When they arrived back at the farm employees of the catering company Phoebe had hired were swarming over
the lawns setting up tents, temporary kitchens, bars, fire pits and grills and tables and chairs. Phoebe and Gretchen watched,
smiling, from the porch as they enjoyed some mid-morning coffee. Seven joined them as Kathryn went into the kitchen to fetch
coffee and tea.
“Sharp jacket, Seven. It looks warm,” commented Phoebe.
“Thank you Phoebe. It should suffice to keep me comfortable through those months of the year that
are not temperate. And I like the red color. Kathryn says it is a good color for me.”
“Darling, any color is a good color on you,” said Gretchen patting her soon-to-be
daughter-in-law on the knee. Seven looked up with a smile as Kathryn stepped back out of the house holding a mug of tea for
her and another with her own coffee. The four women settled comfortably on the porch swings and watched as the party preparations
continued.
* * *
Half a galaxy away at the far side of the Alpha quadrant, Ensign Bel Landes scanned her board looking for
any anomalies. She had agreed to work a double shift in the Command Center of DS7 both days of the weekend as a favor to her
friend Moser. Monitoring the perimeter sensor grid of the Starfleet outpost was not an exciting assignment, but a necessary
one. The Federation and Starfleet had been caught unawares by the sudden aggression of the Dominion and Cardassians in the
last war. No one was more aware of the need for constant vigilance than the young Bajoran whose people had suffered so cruelly
at the hands of the Cardassians. Landes was too young to have been confined in a camp, but her mother had been and her horror
stories of that bleak time had convinced her daughter to attend Starfleet Academy. Landes promised herself at a young age
to do her part to insure that no one would ever conquer her people or come so close to destroying the Federation again.
Upon her graduation from the Academy she had hoped for assignment to a starship, but the training she was
receiving as an operations officer on the deep space outpost was topnotch. On those isolated outposts officers were required
to do many jobs; Ensign Bel had served as tactical officer, communications officer and spent time in engineering in addition
to her assigned duties. When her assignment on DS7 was complete in eight months she would have her pick of starship postings.
Rumors were rampant that Captain Janeway’s refit of Voyager would be complete about that time
and that the fabled commander would again be taking the Intrepid class ship to the outer reaches of the galaxy. Landes wondered
if she had enough experience to be seriously considered for a posting on Voyager. If the rumors
were even close to being true, hers would be the first application on file.
With a determined nod of her head she turned again to the readouts on her board.
* * * * *
By 1745 hours Kathryn, Phoebe, Gretchen and Seven were busy greeting guests as hovercars came up the farm
lane in a steady stream, parking in an adjacent field which had been mown the previous day for their use. Admirals Paris,
Hayes, Ross, Patterson and their respective spouses had come in a shuttle now secured behind the barn. Gretchen and Phoebe
entertained the Starfleet brass while Kathryn and Seven circulated among the Voyager crew laughing
and reminiscing. The story of Janeway’s proposal to Seven was told and re-told and many admiring comments accompanied
the crewmates’ viewing of her engagement ring. Seven considered that perhaps Phoebe had been correct in her assessment
that the ring was a ‘gasper’. It certainly did seem to evoke an admiring response from everyone who saw it.
Leaning against the porch she watched Kathryn move among the tables chatting and smiling at members of
the crew. At one point Kathryn raised her head and their eyes met. A molten surge of desire shot through Seven at the wry
grin on Kathryn’s face when their glances locked. Little more than a week ago they had made love for the first time.
Now she could hardly stand to be separated from Kathryn for even a few moments. Would she ever get used to the flashes of
naked want that struck her so often now?
She and Kathryn had spent the week settling into their home in San Francisco. She had lost count of the
times during those days that they had looked at each other and been overcome with desire. Looking back on it, Seven wondered
how they had managed to accomplish anything at all. But all their possessions were in place, Kathryn had been in close contact
with Radcliffe at Utopia Planetia and she herself had begun the process of staffing her labs at MIT-Daystrom so apparently
they had not spent all their time making love. Kathryn had been adamant that they needed to ‘christen’ every room
in the house before they could truly call it home and enthusiastically set about doing so. Had it not been for the two days
that Gretchen and Phoebe had spent with them Seven had no doubt that each room would have been christened at least twice by
now.
And their bed! Seven shivered at the delightful memories of falling asleep wrapped around Kathryn each
night and waking to the feel of her lover in her arms each morning. Of sleeping on silken sheets with the feel of her lover’s
silken skin as well. Kathryn had told her that prior to their relationship she had never enjoyed sleeping with any of her
lovers. Seven was fervently glad that was no longer the case. Sleeping was a human requirement that she had previously considered
irrelevant. Now, she could not contemplate living without sleeping with Kathryn. And loving Kathryn…as often as possible.
With a smile she rejoined her fiancée
and their guests.
* * *
“Warning! Incursion alarm at
grid location 36-Beta, Sector 16,” reported the computer as an indicator light flashed on the console. Ensign
Bel Landes’ fingers flew over the console noting the time – 1747 hours – and calling up all available information
on the alert. She observed a slight phase variance between that grid location and the adjoining sectors and immediately began
a diagnostics routine to determine if the grid sensor array was underpowered or malfunctioning. Glitches in the array were
fairly common and standard protocols called for diagnostics to be run if only one sensor in the grid tripped an alarm.
By 1801 hours the computer reported the diagnostics run complete.
“Diagnostics complete. Systems indicate power variance of 4.67 millivolts.”
Bel frowned as she considered the power variance. The sensor data indicated a miniscule triquantum wave
flux and an undefined subspace disruption, but the power variance could mean she was receiving faulty data. Knowing Lieutenant
Sepik, the watch commander, was a stickler for data confirmation, she made her decision.
“Computer, re-run diagnostics. Sensor 36-Beta, Sector 16.”
“Acknowledged. Running diagnostics.”
Bel uneasily gnawed on a cuticle as she waited for the results. There was something
about those readings...they seemed familiar but she could not think why. Deciding a lecture on over caution was better than
making a tactical error, she notified Lieutenant Sepik of her findings and actions and awaited the second run of diagnostics
to finish. She was aware of the door opening and closing as she reconfigured her board to download additional data from the
sensors surrounding the apparently faulty one.
“Report!” the quiet voice behind her ordered. She turned to face her Vulcan watch officer.
“At 1747 hours I received an alert from sensor grid 36-Beta in sector 16. Readings were inconclusive,
indicating a slight power phase variance, minute triquantum wave resonance and an undefined subspace disruption. I immediately
ran diagnostics on the sensor in question, but none of the other sensors in the area tripped and the power fluctuation indicated
that it might be a faulty sensor. I ordered a rerun of the diagnostic protocols at 1801 hours and am awaiting those results
now, sir.”
“Very well, Ensign. You acted appropriately.
If the second run of diagnostics proves inconclusive as well, what should our next step be?”
She hesitated as she weighed possibilities. “I would dispatch
a runabout to the sector and have the crew test the sensor on site.”
Her commanding officer nodded in agreement. “That is a logical
and correct course of action. Alert the runabout crew now so that they can be away quickly if your next diagnostics run still
has conflicting data.” He settled into an adjoining console and began to analyze the sensor data she had uploaded.
"Command Center to Operations."
“Operations here.”
“We’re getting some anomalous sensor readings in sector
16. Prepare to launch Shenandoah to assess the situation onsite at our command.
Downloading sensor data to the runabout now.”
“Acknowledged, Command. We’re scrambling the crew. We’ll
launch on your orders.”
“Acknowledged. Command, out.”
“Diagnostics
complete. Systems indicate power variance of 6.73 millivolts.”
Bel noted the time at 1818 hours in the log. Lieutenant Sepik worked
the board next to her analyzing the new data.
“Launch the runabout, Ensign.”
"Aye, sir. Command Center to Operations."
“Operations, here.”
“Launch the Shenandoah.
All sensor data uploaded. Report to Command when they arrive on site.”
“Acknowledged, Command. Launching Shenandoah now. Operations, out.”
Now all they could do was wait. Bel Landes unconsciously worried
at the already bleeding cuticle.
* * * * *
The arrival of B’Elanna, Tom, Miral,
Harry and the EMH at 1820 hours caused a stir through the crowd. Every member of the crew felt like a proud parent toward
the infant born as they had arrived back in the Alpha quadrant and couldn’t wait to take their turns holding her.
“It’s a good thing she’s got my temperament and not her mother’s Klingon one,”
joked Tom as he watched his daughter being passed around the adjoining table, “or she’d be screaming bloody murder
by now.”
B’Elanna swatted his arm playfully. ‘Wrong, helmboy. Don’t you know that Klingons are
the life of any party?” The group laughed as they nibbled on the platter of appetizers in the middle of their table.
Phoebe’s caterers had seen to everything and the tantalizing smell of charcoal-grilling filled the air. Each table had
a large platter of appetizers at its center and the wait staff moved in steady streams to and from the bars.
The air was cool with more than a tinge of the upcoming winter in it, but the large crowd didn’t
seem to mind in the least. Warm jackets abounded and Gretchen kept a crackling blaze going in the living room fireplace if
anyone needed to warm up. Staff circulated constantly with pots of hot coffee, tea and cocoa for the party goers. That and
the alcohol being distributed by the bartenders kept the chill at bay.
Janeway and Seven strolled over to the tables where Gretchen held court with the Starfleet brass and joined
the group. While Kathryn, Phoebe and Gretchen were all at ease with the flag officers Seven was slightly apprehensive. Her
relations with Starfleet had not been cordial prior to her abduction and she had heard from Kathryn that Starfleet Command
was not pleased that she had accepted the research fellowship with MIT-Daystrom instead of their own Theoretical Propulsion
Group headed by Leah Brahms. But so far, nothing unpleasant had been said and she was determined to avoid the topic if at
all possible to keep things that way.
Gretchen and Owen Paris’ wife, Siobhan, were looking over at Tom, B’Elanna and Miral and laughing
at the young family’s antics.
“Gretchen, I need to thank you.”
“For what?”
“Owen and I are so happy with how Tom’s settled down. I wish he didn’t have to be lost
in the Delta quadrant for seven years to do it, but we can’t thank Kathryn enough for taking a chance on him. And for
making him the good man we always knew he could become.”
“Siobhan, he would have grown up eventually regardless. And, truth be told, I’m just the tiniest
bit jealous of you and your grandchild. Miral is just adorable.”
Mrs. Paris grinned and cast a sidelong glance at where Kathryn and Seven were talking with Admirals Paris,
Patterson and Ross. “Gretchen, now that Kathryn’s getting married and settling down you can start your own campaign
for grandchildren.”
“I know. I only have to stay quiet for two more weeks and then I can start in earnest. I don’t
want to push before the wedding,” the elder Janeway laughed. Unbeknownst to her Seven’s enhanced hearing picked
up every word. She blanched and quickly took Kathryn’s hand.
Janeway looked down at the clasped hands and leaned close. “What’s wrong, darling? All of a sudden you’re
pale as a ghost.”
“Your mother wants…grandchildren!”
Seven whispered, clearly upset.
Janeway laughed and whispered back. “Don’t worry; she’s
pestered me about them for fifteen years. Just ignore her. If we decide to have children it will be on our terms and not hers.
And we’re going to take a good long while to get used to each other before we think about children. We have plenty of
time to think about that. Don’t get excited.”
Seven
visibly relaxed at her words and squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Kathryn. For a moment I was afraid that I would not
have time to enjoy being married to you before we were required to start a family. I look forward very much to being married
to you.”
Once again Kathryn felt herself fall into the vibrant blue pools of Seven’s eyes.
All she could do was grin and hold her love’s hand. And that was all she was required to do.
Phoebe managed to break their heated gaze by leaning over Seven’s shoulder and
hissing, “Get a room you two!” When Kathryn started and looked up at her she continued, “The chefs just
told me they’re ready to begin serving. Can you get everyone’s attention and make an announcement?”
“I sure can.” Janeway released Seven’s hand and
climbed up on a nearby picnic table. After cupping her hands around her mouth and hollering for a minute or so, she managed
to make herself heard and got everyone headed toward the tents where the food was waiting to be served.
* * * * *
Ensign Bel Landes glanced at the chronometer mounted on the far wall yet again. It
was 1845 hours and by her calculations the Shenandoah should be on site
at the faulty sensor in sector 16 by now. She was beginning to worry slightly that there was more wrong on the perimeter than
merely a blown sensor module. She keyed her COMM controls and hailed the runabout.
“Command to Shenandoah.”
“This is Shenandoah,
go ahead Command.”
“What is your location? How far are you from the sensor array?”
“We’re only a few minutes out, Command. There’s
some kind of strange subspace disturbance we can’t seem to compensate for and our sensors are all over the place. We’re
reading triquantum waves and higher-than-normal tachyon levels. But we’re not sure our sensors are picking those readings
up or not. We just about…”
Panicked shouts interrupted their communication and screams echoed
in the Shenandoah’s cockpit.
“Shields! Get the shields up!”
“Powering weapons!”
“Evasive maneuvers! Now!”
Using every Bajoran curse she’d ever heard Bel Landes tried
to get the runabout on their view screen, but the subspace disruptions allowed them only flickering images, heavy with static.
“Shenandoah!
What is your status? Report!” she commanded harshly.
When she and Lieutenant Sepik heard the response they could only stare at each other in disbelief. Then
Sepik leapt for the COMM controls to hail Starfleet Headquarters. As he keyed in commands at his board he instructed Bel to
order the closest available Starfleet vessel to Sector 16 to confirm Shenandoah’s report.
* * *
Standing the weekend dogwatch at Starfleet Headquarters COMM Center was not considered a choice duty assignment.
Even the deep-space explorers tended to moderate duty shifts over the weekends. While you were technically never off duty
on a starship, most enlightened commanding officers realized that whenever a skeleton crew could run the ship and allow most
of the crew some extra free time it meant a happier crew and higher morale. So things were quiet in the COMM Center that Saturday
evening when the call from DS7 came in.
“Starfleet Headquarters, this is Lieutenant Sepik on DS7. I have an emergency transmission for the ranking duty
officer. Priority Alpha-One-Red.”
“DS7, this is Starfleet Headquarters. Repeat your transmission,
please,” the young ensign manning the console had never heard that high a priority before.
“I have an emergency transmission for the ranking duty officer.
Priority Alpha-One-Red. Summon the duty officer immediately!”
The
tone of the normally sedate Vulcan’s voice left no doubt in the young ensign’s mind and his hands flew over his
board hailing the Lieutenant Commander in charge. That officer was in the middle of his dinner and was not particularly thrilled
at being summoned to the COMM Center. When he strode in the door he barked, “Report!”
“Sir, I have Lieutenant Sepik of DS7 with an Alpha-One-Red transmission.”
The duty officer was stunned. “What? Put him on screen!” He waited a moment for the image to clear. “This is
Lieutenant Commander Tripp. I’m the duty officer. Go ahead with your transmission.”
No one in the room was prepared for what the report contained. Tripp blanched visibly
at the news but command protocols had to be observed. “Have you confirmed your runabout’s report? We’re
going to need confirmation before I can move anything substantial your way.”
“We have the USS Daran enroute
and have received answering hails from the freighters Nakamura Maru and
USS Agamemnon. The Daran should be on site within ten minutes, the freighters in perhaps fifteen.”
“Very well, DS7. Stand by for word from your ships. We’ll
maintain an open channel with you. Get back with us as soon as you have more solid information.”
“Acknowledged, Headquarters. Standing by.”
Now there were several people chewing on cuticles.
Their wait was not long however. At 1912 hours, Sepik activated the COMM channel.
“Sepik to Headquarters. Earlier reports confirmed. I repeat, earlier reports are confirmed by USS
Daran.”
Lieutenant Commander Tripp began snapping out orders. “Lieutenant Sepik, lock down your station and
prepare to defend yourselves. I’m ordering everything we have in the area to your location. Keep this channel open.”
“Acknowledged, Headquarters. Tactical lockdown commencing now. DS7 standing by.”
Tripp turned to the officers in the COMM center. “Who’s the flag officer on duty this weekend?
Nechayev, isn’t it?”
“Yes sir, most of the other Admirals are at some function in Indiana,” reported a lieutenant.
“Hail Admirals Nechayev and Patterson. Emergency protocol! Get me the location and status of every
vessel within ten light years of DS7. Put up the tactical display for three sectors around the station. What have we got out
there in the way of heavy ships of the line? Get Operations and Intelligence in here and have Security lock the building down.
Move people!”
Everyone jumped to obey his commands.
* * *
The meal had been a huge success and everyone was comfortably stuffed when Kathryn rose and once again
got everyone’s attention. She again climbed on a picnic table, this time pulling Seven up alongside of her. Holding
her lover’s hand she signaled the crowd for quiet.
“I’m not planning on talking for a long time so I’ll get right to the point. Did everybody
have enough to eat?” The answering cheers from the crowd nearly drowned out the beeping sound behind them. Seven turned
her head and looked at Admiral Patterson who was reaching into his pants pocket.
“I just want to thank you all for coming here to celebrate with us. We’ve been like family
for so long that it just seemed…” This time the beeping could not be ignored. Admiral Patterson rose with a shrug
of apology. Kathryn nodded him toward the house and turned back to continue her speech.
“As I was saying, we’ve all been a family for the past seven years and it only seemed right
that we all celebrate the…”
This time, even the partygoers several tables away heard the insistent beeping. Admirals Paris, Hayes,
Ross and Pulaski all reached for their COMM badges.
“This can’t be good,” Kathryn murmured to Seven. To the crowd she continued, “Well,
we all know that Starfleet can spoil even your best plans, so I suppose we’d better answer these hails and then get
back to some serious partying. Everyone please carry on. We’ll be back in just a minute, I’m sure.” With
that she and Seven jumped down from the table and led the Admirals into the house.
In her father’s den she sat at his antique desk and activated the COMM unit that sat on it. Admiral
Patterson gave her the channel frequencies and in a moment the channel with Starfleet Command was open.
“Starfleet Command, this is Captain Kathryn Janeway. I have Admirals Patterson, Paris, Ross, Hayes
and Pulaski with me.”
The COMM officer at Headquarters answered promptly. “Yes, Captain. Standby while we link you into
the command call.”
In another moment the faces of the others on the call appeared on the screen. Admiral Patterson leaned
down toward the screen and asked Admiral Nechayev “Alynna, what’s going on?”
Admiral Nechayev responded quickly. “Apparently we have an Alpha-One-Red emergency transmission from
DS7. Commander Tripp, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir. Linking to DS7 now.”
If Lieutenant Sepik was at all uncomfortable briefing six admirals and one of the most distinguished captains
in Starfleet it did not show. His face was perfectly composed and if there was a hint of a tremor in his voice as he delivered
his message no one commented on it.
“Admiral, the Borg are here.”
End of Part 1
