The Passenger
© Kevryn
The Prologue
It was Neelix who reported it first.
It was the end of a fairly routine staff briefing. Captain Janeway placed her palms on the table, her fingers raised and elbows out. It was the signal she was about to get up: the proceedings were at an end.
"Well, if nobody has any thing else...." her words trailed off. She was thinking of a long soak in a warm bath.
Neelix coughed.
"Captain" he began, struggling with his courage, "I believe we may have an intruder"
‘An intruder?´ thought Janeway, ‘And he leaves it till now to mention?´
"No-one else has made any reports" commented Tuvok calmly
"No... er.. well, they wouldn´t." muttered the Talaxian. Neelix seemed to be struggling with his words. Which was so unlike Neelix as to be serious. He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers, knotting and unknotting them. "I believe we have taken on a Fantasm." he volunteered.
"A Fantasm??" Janeway´s voice was disbelieving.
"Yes." went on Neelix, still staring at his hands, "I always believed them a myth, one of the quadrant´s legends. But...." Again he ran out of words.
"Perhaps you had better describe the creature." suggested Tuvok.
Neelix lifted his head, and fixed his eyes on a fascinating spot on the wall, just above and behind Janeway´s left shoulder.
"It´s a creature of pure energy, able to pass through any material, and travel through empty space. But it has to take on material form to... to.. nourish itself."
Janeway could see her warm bath slipping away from her. Even Tuvok seemed to be losing patience with the little man.
"What is its appearance in material form." he enquired.
"That´s just it." explained Neelix, unhelpfully. This time he seemed preoccupied with a non-existent spot in the centre of the briefing table. "The fantasm appears as... well, as whatever you want it to be. It´s telepathic, it reads your deepest desires. It feeds.... it feeds on pleasure, your pleasure. It fulfils your fantasies." His eyes returned to his hands.
There was a moment´s hush around the table. No-one looked at anyone else as Neelix´s words sank in, afraid to meet each other´s eyes. Only Tuvok managed to look unconcerned, assured that the creature would have no interest in him.....
Finally Tom Paris broke the silence:
"Well, that doesn´t sound like a problem to me!"
Trust Tom to see the lighter side!
Tuvok´s inquisition was unrelenting.
"I presume, Mr Neelix, that you have had an encounter with this being."
The Talaxian looked his most wretched.
"Yes" he whispered.
"Don´t worry" cut in Janeway kindly, "We´re not going to ask for details."
For the first time, Neelix looked up, and straight into her face.
"Thank you, Captain." He sighed: the ordeal was over.
Janeway looked carefully around the room, taking in each face.
"Within the confidence of this room, I have to ask you: has anyone else encountered this creature?"
Everyone tried to look as honest as possible. Silence reigned.
"I´ll take that as a ‘No´" said Janeway dryly. "But if anyone has anything they´d like to say to me in confidence after this meeting, I´ll be in my ready room." (damn... that bath.....)
"Mr Neelix," she went on, trying to keep her calm Captain´s exterior in place, while her mind raced as to what this being could do. "Is it possible to communicate with the creature?"
Neelix seemed more relaxed.
"Well, Captain, it´s telepathic, so it knows what you´re thinking and feeling, and understands anything you say. But for some reason, fantasms have no voice. They never speak."
"A woman who doesn´t talk?" cut in Paris again, "now that´s what I call a fantasy!"
The gentle laughter eased much of the tension around the room. Janeway looked at her senior officers with affection. She wondered what each of them was thinking, what fantasies they secretly nurtured.
"Well," she said, "until we know more about it, I suggest we consider our ‘guest´ not to be a threat. I expect you to keep this to yourselves, of course. Meeting closed." And she rose swiftly from her seat and shot into her ready room. But not before hearing the doctor lament to Seven in an injured tone of voice:
"I should have thought I was the obvious target for a being of pure energy!"
The energy stream rested near the ceiling of the ready room, quietly pleased with itself. It was going to enjoy its new home. Interesting people. Interesting pleasures. A good place to explore..... and feed, feed.
Chapter 1
Harry was next to have contact with the mysterious alien.
Coming in from a particularly tiring workout, he was looking forward to a sonic shower to ease his aching muscles, and a chance to lie on the bed and read. It disconcerted him to find his quarters were not empty.
The woman sat at the desk, apparently reading. She was quite tall, slender, and blonde. Perhaps a year or two older than he. Certainly not one of the crew: after all these years he knew every face.
She stood up as he entered and gazed into his face. Harry reached for his combadge to report an intruder. Then he realised who she was.
She looked at him, her dark eyes enfolding him. His hand was on the badge:
‘Please don´t´ her eyes seemed to say. ‘Give me a chance´
Her silence seemed infectious. Harry realised he couldn´t call security without breaking this delicious moment. He waited, watching her.
The woman walked slowly around him, as if sizing him up. Reaching her hands to his shoulders from behind, she eased his jacket off, and released the pin that held the grey neck insert.
Harry stood there in his blue regulation starfleet issue sleeveless T shirt. The woman gently ran her hands over his shoulders, measuring him, feeling his strength. Suddenly Harry knew who she was, what she represented: a woman who knew what she wanted, knew her way around a man´s body, knew what would give him pleasure better than he did himself. He turned around to face her.
This time her upturned face showed a small smile. She knew he´d accepted her, decided to let her stay. She took his face in her hands, and kissed him deeply. Then, dropping her hands to his shoulders began to massage away the strain of his recent workout.
"Mmmmm... that feels good" Harry assured her. Not that she needed telling.
Having massaged his shoulders thoroughly, she began on his chest. Pulling the shirt out from his waist, she signalled to him to raise his hands so she could lift it over his head. It was a gesture Harry remembered from his childhood, his mother.
Harry looked down: the woman had long, delicate fingers, with finely manicured nails. She ran the tips of her fingers over his chest, just the lightest touch, setting nerve endings alight. Walking around him she repeated the gentle contact over his back.
Then she reached around his waist from behind, and began to undo the fastening of his trousers. As she did so, her lips roamed sensuously over his back.
Harry´s trousers fell to the floor; he stepped out of them, kicking off his regulation black shoes. He stood, looking down into the face of this beautiful woman; waiting for her to make the next move.
With her target standing in just black socks and starfleet black briefs (Harry had never bothered to be more adventurous) the woman stepped back to take a long look. She seemed to like what she saw; a slow smile spread over her face. She stepped forward and reached around him. Smoothly she ran her hands over his buttocks, still watching his face. Then she seemed to find a spot - where the muscles dipped in to a dimple - just perfect for a round, teasing massage with the tip of her middle finger.
She put the palms of her hands onto his chest, and pushed him gently, gently backwards towards the bed. Harry allowed himself to be directed. - after all, she was his fantasy.
As he lay on his back, the woman seated herself at the end of his bed. The smile remained. She was enjoying this as much as he was. Carefully, she removed his socks, and began to massage his feet. Harry took a deep breath as her thumbs worked over his instep, her strong fingers soothing round his ankle bone.
Slowly her hands moved up his legs, pausing to caress the back of his knees. Was he really that sensitive there? It wasn´t a part of his body Harry had ever noticed before.
Reaching the now stretched and damped briefs the woman touched them for a moment. And they disappeared, dissolving into energy as elusive as that the woman had come from.
"Hey!" ventured Harry... Then decided that Voyager could spare one pair of briefs. And he could replicate more.
The woman watched him carefully. Had she gone too far? Was that an ability better kept to herself? Might they fear she would dematerialise the rest of the ship?
Harry ceased to care, as her hands moved on, over his now exposed erection. She caressed his scrotum, sliding a finger underneath him between his buttocks. She ran her strong nails though his dark hair, up his shaft and around the head of his manhood. And all the while never taking her eyes off his face.
For a moment she paused. She seemed to reach within herself. Then slowly the soft, silky dress she was wearing began to fade, disappearing into nothingness, leaving her firm body exposed to his gaze.
She stood, stepped forward a couple of paces, and then reached one long, perfectly shaped leg over him. She knelt, her neck arched, astride his body. Still watching him, studying his reaction. She lifted his hands in hers, and placed them on her breasts. Harry felt the hardness of her nipples in his hands. And then she lowered herself, impaling herself on him.
For a few moments she seemed to be perfectly still, yet Harry could sense a deep, rhythmic movement drawing him, tightening around his erection. It dawned on him she was working the muscles deep within her, squeezing him, holding him. She began to make tiny, sharp thrusting movements with her hips.
Harry´s control was already at breaking point. How did this woman know exactly what to do next? Leaving forward, she took her weight on her arms, either side of him, her breasts hanging close to his face. She began to rock her pelvis up and down, creating a regular thrusting movement, as he slipped in and out of her welcoming, wet body.
Tired or not from the workout, Harry´s body responded with the same strong rhythm. He gripped her right breast and thrust it into his mouth, sucking hard. His body tensed as every muscle clenched. His breathing came in sharp spasms.
Suddenly release seemed to break out all over him, beginning with a tense, tingling feeling in his feet and fingers, intensifying as it spread through his body to the focal point, and bursting out in a glorious, rushing surge, as his juices spurted upwards into her.
Harry gasped for breath, tried to calm his racing heart. He reached out to touch, to hold the woman who could make him feel this way. To thank her, to make some gesture, to....
But beneath his fingers she was losing substance. With a faint sigh, and a last lingering smile, she flowed back into energy and vanished. And Harry was left alone in his quarters.
Chapter 2
The morning briefing had gone smoothly. Janeway had tactfully avoided the subject of the Fantasm, hoping to spare Harry Kim´s blushes. He had reported his ‘incident´ to her privately, earlier that morning.
Tuvok, however was not known for his tact.
"Can I enquire, Captain, whether there have been any further appearances of our ‘guest´?"
Janeway looked him squarely in the face.
"Yes, Mr Tuvok, there have." She paused. "And I think perhaps I should make something quite clear; contact with the Fantasm is to be reported to me personally." She looked around the officers, "I will avoid asking for any information you don´t wish to volunteer. Beyond that, I expect all my officers to respect each others´ privacy."
There was a moment of quiet, while those present nodded their agreement and approval
"We have still not decided what course to pursue in respect of this intruder." Tuvok was like a dog with a bone.
"Keep it!" suggested Tom Paris, "Take it back as a souvenir of the Delta Quadrant: deliver it to Starfleet.... I´d love to see the faces on some of those starchy old Admirals......" He tailed off under a frown from the Captain. She reminded him of his head teacher from kindergarten.
"Does anyone have a sensible suggestion?" she leaned on the word sensible. There was no answer. "Then I propose we continue our present course of action." And Janeway gave Tuvok a hard glare, daring him to prolong the discussion again.
But it seemed Tuvok was satisfied with the answers he had received, for now at least. Briefing was over for the day.
Janeway was sitting in the lounge area of her quarters, scribbling up some notes she had taken from astrometrics that afternoon.
The door opened quietly. The captain scowled. She thought she had locked it. She glanced up to see Chakotay enter the room.
Now she was really annoyed. Walking in without knocking! Not like Chakotay at all: normally the commander had immaculate manners. He strode across the room.
Deliberately and pointedly Kathryn Janeway returned her eyes to her work. Surely Chakotay would get the message.
But he didn´t. He stood there, looming over her. Kathryn was forced to look up. Her eyes met the commander´s. But what she saw was not the gentle warmth of the man she knew. The eyes that locked with hers burned with dominant demand.
"Chakotay?" The captain felt unsure of herself.
The man did not reply. He continued to stare at her, his eyes hungrily consuming her face, her body.
"Chakotay?" she asked again, still less certain. Suddenly she knew.
"You´re not Chakotay." she stated with conviction. The man put his head on one side, and smiled, invitingly.
Kathryn was caught off guard. Her deepest fantasy, her desires? True she had often teased her First Officer about his deference to her station. Once she had even accused him of being afraid of her ‘pips´. In her most secret moments she might have longed to let go of the burden of power for a while, longed to forget the fragile command structure which set her apart from all her crew, longed to be able to be equal.... equal with the man whose face and form stood before her.
"I´m honoured you should consider me worth visiting." she said, making it plain that she knew she was addressing an alien. The man smiled, and in one swift movement, bent down, caught her wrists, pulling her upright. The notepad clattered to the floor.
Kathryn Janeway, Captain of the Starship Voyager had faced many tough decisions in her life. But none tougher than this. Should she go along with the fantasy? Find out what the alien had in store for her? Or should she instead engage in the sort of conversation appropriate to First Contact? Ask it its name, rank and number...... To her credit, she pondered the question for several seconds, before the familiar face bent towards her, kissing her deeply, calling up from within her the answer she longed to give.
Kathryn relaxed into the man´s arms, feeling the strength of his body, his warmth against her. So he wasn´t the real thing, only a fantasy, a fantasm. And she was the captain of a starship. So who said a captain couldn´t have a little fun?
The man with Chakotay´s face smiled appreciatively. Presumably he (it?) was reading her mind, and knew the decision she had come to. She waited for him to make the next move.
She didn´t have to wait long. With another powerful movement he lifted her into his arms, and strode purposefully in to bedroom. Yet he placed her on the bed with all the gentleness she had come to associate with her first officer.
His strong hands removed her jacket, and her grey slipover. He gently caressed her breasts with smooth, circling movements. Bending his head, he kissed her between her breasts, then tenderly slipping her T shirt over her head, took her right breast between his lips. Janeway reached up her hand to touch his face.
Slowly and carefully he removed the rest of her uniform, still not saying a word. He shook off his own jacket and top, revealing strong muscles under a sleeveless T Shirt. Kathryn felt very aware of her nakedness beside him.
He had Chakotay´s hands, she reflected, as he stroked her body softly, cupping her breasts, her hips, her thighs. Still gazing at her, he slid his hand between her legs. With a strong circling motion, he closed his fingers over her pubic mound. The effect was so arousing, so exciting Janeway moaned quietly. She thought he would stop, would move on, but no: he continued the movement. Janeway wanted to speak, to tell him the effect he was having on her. But she could find no words.
The man continued, his middle finger just over her clitoris, the palm of his hand pressing on her pubic bone. Janeway´s body began to tense, her breath came in short panting gasps. She felt as if her whole body, every nerve ending she possessed was concentrated under his hand. Still he circled, faster now, and faster. Kathryn knew she stood on the brink. Was she afraid to let go? To allow her body the release it demanded? Tears came to her eyes, mentally she pleaded with him not to stop.
Suddenly, the peak was there. Parts of her body usually so silent exploded in a sharp intensity of sensation, defying belief. Her whole body rocked and bucked, her inner muscles broke into spasms, perspiration poured from her.
The man held her close, holding her head against his chest. Only when she was calm again did he continue. Now he parted her gently, so gently, slipping a finger inside. Not deeply, not penetratingly. Just one finger joint deep, enough to rub the pad of his finger against that place just inside. Janeway sobbed gently. It was as if the nerves there were hotwired direct to her clitoris. The sensations began all over again.
She relaxed back onto the bed and allowed the man to fondle her, caress her. When she opened her eyes again he was naked. She didn´t stop to wonder how. Carefully taking his weight on his arms he moved on top of her, his eyes still watching her face, still that small smile of Chakotay´s that was so familiar.
As he penetrated her, Kathryn groaned. He was big, filling her, stretching her. He was careful to move gently at first, allowing her time to adjust to his presence within her. Then his thrusting became more steady, more urgent. She responded to the rhythm with her own hips, pushing her body against his in harmony.
This time the pleasure was gentler, more rounded. As she reached her second climax she felt as if she were floating out into space itself. Nothing around her mattered any more. The man in her arms, whose only purpose seemed to be to give her pleasure, held on to her firmly. She felt safe, secure, cherished.
The man´s lips sought her for a last, lingering kiss. Then like a mist before a sea breeze he dematerialised, leaving her sobbing softly on the bed.
"Chakotay" she whispered his name. And drifted into an easy sleep.
Chapter 3
Tuvok was sitting reading a crew manifest in his quarters when the stranger materialised. Sitting stiff-backed in his chair he turned to face the intruder.
The alien had taken a human form, or some semblance of one. Clearly it had no idea how to deal with him.
He addressed the woman formally.
"I should tell you, my species is without emotion. I cannot provide you with what you need. In addition, we mate only once in seven years. You are wasting your time here."
Having delivered this speech, Tuvok turned back to his work, expecting the creature to depart the way it had come.
But she stood there.
Tuvok looked up again, this time bothering to take notice of her appearance. She was petite, tiny even. Physically she reminded him of Kes. But her eyes were dark, like a Vulcan´s.
As he studied her, Tuvok became aware of her mind, touching his, making telepathic contact.
"I prefer not to have telepathic contact with you." he stated shortly. He had promised the captain in his first year on Voyager that he would not initiate any mind-meld unsupervised, after nearly losing his mental control to a psychopath.
But she wouldn´t give up. Her mind probed his, turning over his thoughts like leaves in a book. Images rose to the surface of his mind, dark images; images he struggled daily to keep suppressed. In Tuvok, as in every Vulcan, was a dark, sinister, aggressive nature, carefully kept in check by logic and calm.
He regarded the small woman angrily. How dare she violate his mind, the privacy of his thoughts. He didn´t stop to ask himself how he could be angry.
Deeper, deeper into the unholy places in his mind. She was unafraid, unperturbed by the horrors she found lurking there.
But Tuvok could stand it no longer.
Leaping from his seat he made a grab at her, catching her arms harshly. With a quick twist he spun her round, gripping her arms behind her back, almost lifting her off her feet. Her small face showed pain, but she didn´t flinch.
Tuvok pushed both her small wrists into one strong hand, freeing his other hand. He reached for her neck. But he wasn´t seeking the nerve that would render her unconscious, let alone dead. Instead, his skilled fingers found a point where pressure would cause maximum pain. He dug his nails into it, scowling.
The girl made a sharp intake of breath. Tuvok was sure that she would have cried out, had she had a voice.
"Enough?" he enquired, fiercely "Not your usual easy target, am I?"
He lifted his knee, and drove it into the small of her back, forcing her to walk forward. She stumbled to the desk, then could go no further.
Tuvok´s calm control lay around him in shreds. He wanted this woman. Wanted to hurt her, harm her. Still holding her arms behind her back, he pushed her downwards till she was leaning over the desk. It pleased him to hear her broken breathing, her sobbing.
With his free hand, Tuvok lifted the delicate soft covering that was her skirt. He drove his nails hard into her buttocks, grunting with pleasure as the flesh resisted him. Then, rapidly unzipping his flies, he grabbed at his vulcan member, and thrust it deep into her.
The woman shuddered at the pain, taking him within her. But Tuvok gave her no moment of respite. Swaying his pelvis he thrust and thrust again, as deeply and firmly as he could. He clutched her shoulder, holding her against him, preventing her leaning away. He wanted her to suffer, to share his anguish. Daily he fought to keep this emotion in check: she had released it - she deserved this.
He bent over her, snarling. His teeth found the back of her neck, and he bit hard, drawing blood. The taste excited him, added to the joy of exploring this cruel aspect of himself.
He redoubled his thrusting, slapping his thighs against her buttocks. Tension began to rise in him, a promise of pleasure, ecstasy, sensations denied him by his logic and discipline.
He pulled himself upright, still holding her arms tightly. He could feel the bruises forming under his fingers. He leaned back as the world began to swim, as his body reached its moment of release. He gasped, and swore viciously in Vulcan. Precious fluids gushed out of him.
Suddenly he realised where he was, what he was doing. In horror he released the woman, suppressing a sense of panic.
She turned to look at him, her head on one side, just the faintest trace of a sad smile. Tuvok struggled to find words, but she shook her head. Reaching forward, she placed one fragile finger on his lips, signalling him that no words were needed, no apology wanted.
And gently, gently she faded away, leaving a faint scent of perfume in his sensitive nostrils.
Tuvok sat, alarmed, horrified, distressed at what had happened. Desperately he sought the light within him, the light that was his breath.
It burned, his inner light, burned with a new brightness. Tuvok marvelled. Deep within him there was just a little less darkness to overshadow it. Calm returned to his face, his body. And with it gratitude.
Chapter 4
Chakotay was relishing a rare moment to himself. As Kathryn Janeway´s First Officer, he found himself constantly working, trying to match the demanding standards she set for herself.
So a couple of hours holodeck time to call his own was a special luxury. He´d spent a chunk of the more boring time on the bridge wondering which programme to run. Eventually he´d narrowed it down to two - an hour in the gym, boxing, or some time just sitting under a tree that reminded him of home. When it came down to it, he´d been to tired to consider tackling the boxing.
So here he was, on a pleasant, warm day, lying on the ground, staring up through the branches of the old birch tree, watching the clouds flutter across a blue sky, and trying very hard to think of nothing.
Which was perhaps why he didn´t hear Kathryn Janeway enter the holodeck. In fact, he didn´t know she was there till she appeared in his field of vision, looking down at him.
"Captain" He sat up, startled.
She said nothing, just smiled.
"Captain?"
She crouched down, and sat beside him on the grass, sighing deeply with contentment.
"I thought you were on the bridge?" he enquired.
She shook her head. Something bothered him. Why didn´t she say anything? He frowned. Realisation was slow coming. In fact, he struggled to believe what his reason was telling him. This woman looked like Kathryn Janeway, walked like her, moved like her - even smelled like her. But she didn´t say a word.
"I know who you are," he said gently, "and you´re not Kathryn."
The woman smiled, and inclined her head in acknowledgement.
He sighed. "And I suppose I know why you´re here." He looked into her eyes, and shook his head. "but I´m sorry, you´re not real; not really my captain." He paused, and took a deep breath. "It might be a wonderful fantasy, but I´d know it wasn´t real."
The woman nodded. Chakotay realised there was one big difference between her and the original. She was easy to talk to; perhaps because she was reading his mind, perhaps simply because she didn´t say anything.
He reflected for a moment. "I know you can read my thoughts. I wonder if you can comprehend how deeply I feel for her?"
The woman smiled gently; a familiar warmth played around Janeway´s eyes and lips.
"I guess she´s what makes sense of the universe. Before Kathryn, I was so filled with righteous anger. I joined the maquis because I wanted to fight for something that mattered. But I didn´t find it; not even there. In Kathryn I´ve finally found what matters."
He picked a daisy from the grass beside him and stared at its small, delicate face.
"Some days I wonder if she even knows I exist," he sighed, "let alone how I feel. Other times I´m sure she must know."
He pulled a couple of the tiny white petals from the flower and tossed them away.
"But she´s my captain. I can never be her equal. Always, only, her second in command." He looked up at the woman who wore Janeway´s face. "Do you have command structures among your people?"
She shook her head. The smile was sad, filled with compassion.
"You´re lucky. They get in the way. Put barriers between people." He paused. "Kathryn is up there, on that captain´s pedestal, and I can never reach her."
He pulled another petal from the daisy;
"Some days I say to myself ‘Chakotay, you´re a fool. Forget about Kathryn Janeway, and find yourself a nice little ensign´. And I wish I could. But there isn´t another woman in the universe like her."
He tossed the daisy away in a gesture that looked more casual than it felt.
"So, I suppose I´m saying ‘thanks but no thanks´. I´m sorry to turn you down. But I could never make do with fantasy. Kathryn is too real, too human, too much woman for a fantasy."
And he shook his head again. The woman stood up. Again he was amazed at the likeness, how real she was. She bent forward, and took his head in her hands. With the lightest of touches, she kissed him on the forehead. Even as she did so, her physical presence began to lose cohesion, and she was gone.
Chakotay lay back down and stared at the tree. What had he given up? What had he declined? A smile stirred across his lips. Nothing. He´d given up nothing. His ultimate fantasy? his deepest desire? To tell Kathryn Janeway to her face how he felt about her.
A blackbird fluttered to rest in the branch above him. It put its head on one side, just as the fantasm Janeway had. It seemed to be questioning, asking him something: If she´d been real? The real Kathryn? Would he have got any further than talking? He guessed he´d never know.
Chapter 5
Chakotay hovered outside the captain´s ready room. He knew it was his duty to report contact with the intruder. But he wasn´t sure he could face doing so.
Grasping his courage, he rang the door chime, and entered at Janeway´s call.
She smiled, looking up from her coffee.
"Something to report, Commander?"
"Er.... yes, actually, I have....." He tried to look everywhere except at her face.
The captain met his eyes, with just the tiniest glint of a grin.
"So you´ve seen it too, have you?" she asked. "I was beginning to wonder whether it had left us, since I´ve had no reports. Mind," she went on, "I shall be glad when Tuvok finds the courage to look me in the eye again! I just wish he´d had the courage to report it outright, and not leave me guessing."
Chakotay got the distinct impression that his captain was enjoying his discomfort - and possibly that of the other officers, too. Who was it had said that Rank has its privileges?
Still, if that was all the questioning he was going to get, the commander reckoned he´d got off lightly. He couldn´t help feeling that it wasn´t fair that Kathryn didn´t have to report to anybody......
Tom nearly tripped over his feet trying to get to B'Lanna's quarters. For a change he was late. Just as he had been preparing to leave sickbay at the end of a long shift for the doctor, Naomi Wildeman had been brought in crying with a badly bruised arm, having slipped while playing hoverball. By the time Tom had not only healed her injury but dried her tears, he was several minutes late. And B'Lanna wasn't the most patient of dates.
Colliding with the door in his haste, he chimed the bell. There was a long pause before B'Lanna finally opened. Tom could just picture her standing the other side of the door, slowly counting to ten, making him wait.
"So you decided to show up after all?"
Tom's carefully prepared apology and explanation evaporated in a burst of temper:
"B'Lanna, I am all of ten minutes late!"
"Ten minutes I having been hanging around, with nothing better to do."
"So what do you think? That I've been with another woman?" Tom and B'Lanna's annoyance with each other began to spiral. "Well, I suppose I have, only she was pleased to see me. It's like that in sickbay!"
And he turned to leave.
"Tom!" B'Lanna caught him by the arm, "Don't go, don't let's fight."
Tom relaxed. He couldn't refuse B'Lanna anything.
"I'm sorry to be tetchy" she went on. "It's like there's something in the air in here tonight. Like I'm itching all over"
Now it was Paris´s turn to frown.
"Have you checked all the environmental controls?" Not a question to ask your chief engineer, even when she´s in a good mood....
"Of course I damned well have!" she calmed herself as quickly as she could. "Everything shows normal, except...."
"Except?"
"A slight EM reading - like old fashioned ‘static´ electricity. If I didn´t know better, I´d say there was thunder in the air."
"Well, it would have to be a brave thunderstorm that took up in your quarters!" Tom announced, and pulled B´Lanna into his arms, kissing her before she could snap back at him.
Lifting his head, Tom had a sudden thought.
"I wonder..."
"Hmmmm?" B´Lanna seemed to have lost interest in the atmospherics.
"I wonder if what our intruder would look like on a tricorder scan?"
B´Lanna broke away from his grasp.
"You´re not suggesting I´m not real?"
Tom laughed, "You´ve already said too much for that!"
"So why would it be here? I thought it was supposed to fulfil our deepest desires?"
Tom caught her back again, determined not to let her get away from him.
"Not a chance." he declared, "You got there first. Nothing any buzzing, tingling Being could do could meet my desires the way you do."
And his blue eyes met her dark ones as he bent to kiss her again.
"Maybe it´s looking for new ideas." he ventured mischievously
B´Lanna reached her arms round his neck
"Who cares, anyway." she murmured, as she pulled him towards her bed.
The energy being drifted gently over their entwined bodies, making every effort to conceal its presence. There had been so few moments like this during its visit to Voyager. Mostly it had had to work for every tiny tingle of pleasure. What delight to find two people so well able to find pleasure in each other, not needing fantasy beings. If it had had a face, it would have smiled.
Chapter 6
Seven of Nine was checking some last odds and ends in astrometrics before returning to her cargo bay to regenerate. Everything seemed to be in place; her organised mind liked to see neatness and order around her.
The door opened behind her. Seven turned to see who it was. No-one came to astrometrics to chat or see her socially. It would be work.
But the man who entered was a complete stranger. Tall, blond, blue eyes, broad strong shoulders: he reminded Seven vaguely of a holo-image she´d once seen of a statue titled "Michaelangelo´s David". Only with clothes.
Seven allowed a small frown to cross her perfect features. This Greek god wasn´t any member of the crew she was familiar with.
"Please state your business" she required shortly.
But the man said nothing.
"Identify yourself!" she became more demanding. Still silence.
She reached for her combadge to call for security, but as she did so, the hero began to fade. And Seven knew who he was.
"YOU are my secret desire?" her voice was contemptuous. She had once stated that what she sought was perfection. But this was a mere human male. A delicious smile played on his faultless lips.
Seven was in no mood for time wasting.
"Very well, remove your clothing." she ordered in an offhand tone. Or rather as offhandedly as she could manage. Despite her Borg training, the very sight of this man seemed to be having a strange effect of her human parts. She could feel an odd fluttering in the pit of her stomach, a slight tensing in the small of her back. Her breathing and heart rate had gained speed.
The gorgeous Adonis grinned, and his clothing melted away. The sight of his firm, muscular naked body increased Seven´s discomfort.
"Your appearance seems to be having the appropriate effect on my body." she remarked in a matter-of-fact tone. The man stepped closer to her, enclosing her in his strong arms. Seven looked up at him;
"I presume you will now kiss me." If the man felt that he was making love by numbers, he didn´t show it. Obligingly he bent his head, and caressed Seven´s lips with his own. The experience was new to her. She found the soft, warm sensation enjoyable in a way that was hard to describe.
Next the powerful masculine hands began to roam over her body. He was seeking the means to remove her garment.
"You should know that my body is partly Borg, I have a number of mechanical implants."
The man nodded smilingly; he´d read Seven´s mind, and knew how she was built. He didn´t have a problem - did she?
The fantasy figure peeled off the close fitting suit that Seven was wearing. He held her close. Seven was astonished how pleasurable the sensation of his skin felt against hers. For a moment she regretted her Borg implants, which interrupted the flow of that experience.
Leaning against him, she became aware that changes had taken place in his body. Now he was firm and hard against her. Seven resisted the instinct to offer a commentary or give instructions. It seemed her human side knew how to direct her fantasies, even if her Borg training had made her unaware of those drives.
The Adonis began to run his lips over her body, touching her human skin. Seven gasped as her nerve endings tingled at his touch. Sweeping his hands around her, he took her human breast into his mouth, circling the nipple with the flat of his tongue. Seven´s best efforts to remain a detached observer of the experience crumbled around her.
The man seemed to know what she was feeling. he lifted her swiftly in his strong arms and placed her on the dais at the front of the room.
Now he allowed his hands a free rein over her body, touching her most intimate places. He watched her face for her reaction. This woman was difficult to please: of all the people, all the races, the Fantasm had met, this woman did not herself know what would please her. Reading her mind offered no help. They would have to find out together.
But clearly he was on the right track. Seven gasped and shuddered with delight as he touched parts of her body which had never been touched before.
He kissed her again, was she anxious? a little afraid? The being could not remember its own First Time. It didn´t want to hurt or harm her.
Seven moaned gently as the handsome man ran his hand over her clitoris again, and parted her to penetrate her with his hand.
He wished he could give her some assurance: promise that he wouldn´t hurt her. His mute voice was a handicap he´d never noticed before.
But it seemed she trusted him Or at least had confidence in her own ability to prevent him from doing anything she didn´t want.
The man lay on his back, and lifted her gently by the narrow waist. He was pulling her on top of him so that she would remain in control, she could set the pace. Seven seemed unsure what was expected of her. He spread her legs either side of his small hips, and caressed her open body with the tip of his manhood.
Still a little uncertain, Seven lowered herself onto him. The sensation made her tremble, shiver. He was deep inside of her. What should she do now?
With a kick of his leg, the hero spun then over, so that she was beneath. Sure now that she wanted to be led, wanted to be taken, he began to rock rhythmically inside her.
Seven groaned softly. The experience was devastating. His body seemed to press against hers, rub against hers, stroke hers at every point exactly as if they had been built to fit together like this. Her grip on reality began to waver as tension built in her body. How come what he was doing inside her made every muscle clench - not just those within, but her legs, fingers, toes even?
Knowing he had struck the right rhythm, the fantasy man continued. The tension in Seven approached an unbearable level. She felt as if she would explode. All her learning and studying of the experience had failed to prepare her for her first real orgasm.
And then it came. All the descriptions, the literature, poetry, music in the universe couldn´t do justice to that moment. At last Seven knew what the rest of the universe had been making such a fuss about.
She clutched at the man, wanting to hold him, keep him. Wanting this moment never to end.
As the sobbing in her body subsided, Seven found herself lying on the dais in astrometrics alone. She was naked, but her garment was placed conveniently to hand (had she left it there?). Of the Hero, there was not a trace.
Chapter 7
The doctor was alone when the alien visited sickbay. Looking up from working in his office, he saw a solitary female figure in the main area. He walked briskly through.
"Please state the nature of the... do I know you?"
The woman shook her head, with a sad smile.
"Ah. Well. Yes." he continued. "I see. I wondered when you´d show up here. However, I have to tell you that I´m a hologram; a computer generated creation of light and energy. No mind for you to read; no secret desire for you to fulfil. So..."
He wanted to tell her she was wasting her time. But the words wouldn´t come. Something in way the woman´s deep, dark eyes rested on his face told him she already knew what he was saying. That she wanted something different. And that if he told her she was wasting time, she might go away. And the doctor didn´t want that.
The woman reached up her hand and touched his face. The doctor was used to the feel of skin. In the course of a day´s work he touched plenty of it, knew the sensation of it against his ‘photons and force fields'.
But the touch of this woman´s hand was like an electric shock. A tremor ran through his holomatrix. What was she doing to him.
Before his eyes, her sensual beauty began to dematerialise. She was returning to her energetic state.
"Don´t go" he protested.
The smile lingered, as she melted. But she didn´t leave.
The doctor felt an enormous surge of energy, as the alien stepped into his space, into his force field. She was within him - or was he within her? Their different energies blended, causing ripples through his holographic body. The sensation was indescribable. Trembling, shuddering, destabilising, intense... yet sweet.. so, so sweet.
The doctor lowered his head, and prayed to whatever holographic gods there might be that no-one would need medical treatment right now. He could feel the energy of the alien moving within him, rhythmically, powerfully.
He tried hard not to think what this might be doing to his pattern buffers. He´d experienced human sex - a simple addition to his programming - to find out what the rest of the universe was making such a fuss about. But this? This was on a different plane.
Emotions filled his being. Passion, devotion, a wild, untameable love. Was that him or her? Whose feelings were they? His holographic body tensed as the exquisite sensations increased. A rising sense of ecstasy ... and he could hear a distant moan, rising in pitch to become a wail. Surely not him? His voice processors were inactive. Then who?
He had no moment to consider, as a last cresting wave of energy and delight broke over him and through him, leaving him exhausted and awed. He stood quite still, and a minute later, felt her energy leave him.
The woman rematerialised with her back to him. Her shoulders were heaving as she struggled to regain her breath. Unsure what to say - whether he should say anything at all - the doctor waited.
Slowly she turned around. She was holding something, cradling something. As her eyes met his the doctor realised she was nursing an infant, materialised as a new born.
"An offspring?" his voice was full of wonder; "Yours?" he paused, "Mine??"
Wordlessly the woman nodded. She held out the child for him to take. He lifted it from her arms and gazed into the tiny face. A human face. She had given it a human face, for him.
As he handed the baby back into her arms, the doctor was filled with a sadness. A sadness of goodbye.
"You´re going?"
The woman nodded.
"But why? I mean, can´t you stay? We could..." He looked into those eyes, deep enough to drown in. And knew she had to go.
"You have to take him, er.. her, back to.. to wherever you came from"
The woman nodded again. She looked up into his face, her own a smile of gratitude and wonder. Then slowly, slowly she faded away into energy and was gone.
Epilogue
The staff briefing had been routine again. No-one had reported anything out of the ordinary. Even the ‘visitor´ seemed to have been quiet for a few days. Janeway prepared to call a close.
"Excuse me" said the doctor, quietly, "but before we go, I think people should know that our ‘guest´ has departed."
"How do you know?" it was Harry.
"She, er, she told me she was going. She had to go home."
"Why? weren´t we enough fun for it?" the question was Tom´s.
"Not at all," the doctor assured them - wouldn´t do to provoke any neuroses. "The fact is that she had to go home to raise her offspring."
"Offspring?" enquired Janeway incredulously.
"How can a being that is nothing but energy and light have..." B´Lanna began, and broke off as she realised the answer.
Tom Paris leaned back in his chair: "Well, congratulations Doc!" He announced. "The proud father of a healthy little .... er... Buzz!"
Seven tilted her head on one side, looking at the doctor quizzically; "How?"
"Well, if that will be all, I´ll be getting back to sickbay!" declared the doctor, briskly. And in a whoosh of sliding doors he was gone.
Seven looked around the room and repeated her question: "How?" There was no answer.
Janeway leaned back on her sofa, her feet up on a stool in front of her, sipping coffee. The door chimed.
"Come in" She prepared to straighten up. But it was only Chakotay.
"I´ve brought you those personnel reports you asked for, Captain."
"Thanks." She put them on the table. "You know, I´m going to miss having our ‘passenger´ along."
"You never did tell us whether it visited you?" Chakotay´s eyes met hers.
"We agreed never to discuss such things, remember?" the captain´s voice was playful
"True... but I can´t help wondering."
Janeway leaned forward to refill her coffee cup. "And if I said yes?"
"Then I´d wonder what he looked like" Chakotay tipped his head to one side.
Janeway grinned, focusing her eyes at middle distance, remembering.
"Let´s just say he had a certain familiarity." she offered.
"And a lot of courage!" added Chakotay. "Not intimidated by the captain´s pips!"
"No" said Janeway thoughtfully. "I suppose you could say he was ‘Brave´ in every way" she grinned at him, impishly. "Come on, Commander, we´ve got a ship to run".
And rising from her seat, she led him out onto the bridge.