End and Begin Again
by Lady Janus
Disclaimer: See Part 1.
End and Begin Again
Part 7: Factoring Humanity
Rating: NC-17
The tension between the First Officer and Seven of Nine was palpable when Tuvok entered Chakotay's office.
" . . . no right to treat me this way!" Seven was screaming at Chakotay, her face uncharacteristically flushed and eyes wild.
Tuvok recoiled from the onslaught of emotion as if from a physical blow. He'd never seen the ex-drone so emotional before and from Chakotay's shocked expression, Tuvok surmised that neither had the First Officer witnessed such emotion from her.
"And you did nothing, just stood there and let her humiliate me like this!"
Ah, so the blurring between the personal and professional continues, Tuvok observed distantly as Chakotay's face darkened with anger.
"That is enough, Seven," he said in a low, measured voice. "You're damned right I did nothing! Captain Janeway has every right to deal with you in any way she wants to! I don't know what you thought you were doing when you broke into her quarters this evening; you're just damned lucky that she didn't beam you into open space for that stunt and I for one wouldn't have blamed her."
Seven stood trembling with rage and glaring speechlessly at Chakotay.
"How dare you invade her privacy? How dare you invade mine?" Chakotay raged.
Tuvok felt his own eyebrow rise involuntarily at the Commander's revelations. "Seven broke into the Captain's quarters?" he asked.
"And used my Command codes to do it! Apparently, she hacked me." Tuvok nodded and turned to study the ex-Borg woman thoughtfully. "As a result," the Commander continued. "The Captain has revoked her security clearance and busted her down to Level 2. She also wants us to overhaul the system and change the codes by morning."
"I see," Tuvok replied noncommittally. He'd glimpsed Kathryn's state of mind earlier that evening; Seven was indeed lucky the Captain hadn't transported her into open space.
"As if it really matters what security clearance I have," the young woman sneered. "I doubt even she thinks so. I can get into any ship system I want. She simply needs to show she can still order us around--pretend that people still care that she's the Captain! She likes to think she can run our lives, Chakotay, but we don't need her. We don't have to follow her orders. She hates that we're together now and she's jealous! She wanted to humiliate me in front of you. That's why she transported me onto the bridge--she was making a point to you."
He studied Chakotay closely and saw the look of betrayal beneath the surface of his anger at Seven; she had used him, and being used is something Chakotay would not easily forgive. Indeed, Tuvok's own infiltration of Chakotay's command had been a betrayal that had taken the Commander a long time to forgive.
"And I got her message loud and clear," Chakotay said quietly. "You will report to Astrometrics and begin implementing Ensign Celes' protocols. If you don't want to follow orders--fine--you can spend some time in the brig until you decide to abide by the rules everyone on this ship has to follow. And if you don't want to pull your weight around here, we will assume that you no longer want to be a part of this crew and I will personally beam you to the next rock we come across that can support life!"
He studied her shocked face intently, as if seeing her for the first time and continued in his quiet, measured tones. "You seem to be under the impression that the personal relationship between us warrants this kind of abuse of the Captain--know right now that it does not! This isn't the time or place for a discussion of our personal relationship, Seven, but you can't seem to separate it from our professional working relationship and perhaps part of that is my fault. So I'll make it easy for you. Our personal relationship does not belong on the bridge or in any part of our professional relationship. Later, when we're off-duty, I think that we are going to have to reassess whether pursuing a personal relationship is the right thing for us, but I have to tell you, right now, it's looking more and more like a mistake!"
Seven gaped at him, tears rolling silently down her cheeks as the realisation of what he was saying sank in. She looked from him to Tuvok, then back again. Her face clouded with fury.
"You're breaking up with me!" she demanded angrily. She laughed--an ugly cruel sound. "You think that breaking up with me will make the Captain want you?"
"No Seven, that isn't it at all," he began tiredly.
"Isn't it?" She laughed hysterically again and Chakotay's expression changed to one of concern as he reached for her arm. She jerked it away. "You never cared for me--did you? You just used me to make her jealous and now that you think you've done it, you think that she'll want you! Well, she won't! She'd rather have intercourse with Tuvok, before she would have you!"
She turned to Tuvok with that same cruel laugh; he fought to remain impassive. He should have realised that if she'd compromised Chakotay's codes, she probably had done the same to his own and even the Captain's.
"Oh, I forgot," she said, smiling with cold, studied innocence. "She did have intercourse with Tuvok."
It was Chakotay's turn to stare speechlessly in shock. The blood drained from his face as his eyes pleaded with Tuvok's to deny her accusations. Tuvok could only meet his gaze with a dignity that spoke of over a century of Vulcan practice. The betrayal in Chakotay's eyes became as painful to behold as watching blood flow from an open wound. Tuvok wondered if the human man he counted as a friend would ever understand.
"How do you humans put it?" Seven asked rhetorically as she looked at Chakotay. She was enjoying the results of her cruelty--revelling in it even. "Oh yes, fucking. Kathryn Janeway fucked Tuvok right under your nose! While you were agonising over whether to fuck me, your Kathryn--your hypocritical Captain--was happily fucking Tuvok!"
"That is enough, Seven," Tuvok said, breaking his immobility at last. He would not allow Kathryn's gift to be dishonoured or made into something dirty. "You have no idea what you're talking about and I hope that you will refrain from repeating these accusations."
"Are you denying that you had sex with the Captain on Stardate 55234.8?" she shouted, face contorted with hatred.
"My relationship with Captain Janeway is none of your business," Tuvok said impassively. "However, this blatant abuse of your position on this ship to bypass the security protocols and wholesale invasion of privacy is my business. And your stated intention to continue to flaunt the rules that everyone on this ship abides by is my business."
"An infant could bypass your rudimentary security protocols!" she sneered.
"Do you or do you not intend to carry out the Captain's orders and implement Ensign Celes' protocols?" Chakotay asked quietly and Seven turned to him with an annoyed look--as if she'd forgotten his presence.
"I do not!" she shouted contemptuously. "Those orders are ill-conceived and ill-informed. Therefore, they are irrelevant and I will not waste my time implementing the work of an incompetent, ignorant fool!"
"Tuvok, please escort Seven of Nine to the brig," Chakotay said coldly. "The charges are insubordination for failure to carry out the direct order from the Captain, breaking and entering, and illegal appropriation of command codes for personal use. Charges pending investigation include illegally bypassing security protocols, spying on fellow crewmembers and other instances of invasion of privacy."
"What? You can't do this!" Seven screamed shrilly, seeming to take stock of her position for the first time. "I won't let you do this!" she screamed charging at Chakotay.
Tuvok's hand snaked out and found that plexus of nerves and blood vessels to Seven of Nine's brain and exerted enough pressure to incapacitate her before she could injure Chakotay with her Borg-augmented arm. She crumpled twitching violently, and he caught her with lightening reflexes before she hit the floor.
"Computer, lock onto Seven of Nine and beam her directly to the brig," Tuvok ordered as Chakotay stared at the young woman in disbelief. "Enact brig protocol Omega-nine-Omicron-one-one-seven."
"Acknowledged," the computer replied dispassionately as the young woman disappeared in the shimmer of the transporter beam. "Level 10 force field erected; brig manual lock engaged; transfer of brig functions and protocol to Brig Officer completed."
"Tuvok to Lieutenant Rollins," Tuvok called. "Report."
"Rollins here, Commander," the Brig Officer replied promptly. "Transport complete. Override functions have been transferred and implemented. The brig is on Maximum Security lockdown until further notice."
"Excellent," Tuvok said, holding Chakotay's gaze. "I will be down shortly to review the protocols for possible long-term arrangements. Tuvok out."
"Well those brig enhancements you and Kathryn insisted on after Teero's attack seem to be going to good use," Chakotay said bitterly.
"They were prudent precautions," Tuvok replied noncommittally.
Silence stretched out between him and First Officer as they regarded each other.
Moments turned into seconds turned into minutes.
"You require an explanation," Tuvok said at last.
Chakotay's mouth twisted into a grimace. His eyes were dark and hostile. "You owe me nothing," he said. "She owes me nothing. What happens between you and Kathryn Janeway is no one's business but your own. Now please leave."
"As you wish, Commander," Tuvok replied turning towards the door. "However, if you do wish answers, I will inform the Doctor to release my medical files to you. Good evening."
The muffled clatter and crash emanating from Chakotay's office was audible on the bridge as the door closed behind Tuvok. Beta shift worked diligently at their stations, but Tuvok knew from experience that they'd heard the raised voices, even if they couldn't hear what was being said.
"As you were, Mr. Vorik," Tuvok said to the younger Vulcan as he stood. Vorik nodded respectfully and Tuvok made his way to the lift. He was lost in introspection as it descended; he would have to apprise the Captain of the situation and he knew she would be horrified to learn that Seven had spied on such a private, intimate time. It took all his training to suppress his own outrage and anger; ironically, that had been Kathryn Janeway's greatest gift to him.
"A measure of love freely given, must be freely accepted. Then friendship again and that knows no measure."
"Why?"
"A sacred trust. Do you accept this gift, Tuvok?"
A sacred trust; a priceless Gift.
He had accepted it from her knowing what it cost her to give it--more than just her body, more than just her mind and more than just her soul. He would not allow a jealous adolescent to use this Gift as a weapon to cause Kathryn Janeway more pain.
He strode into the brig, heading straight for the console. Rollins met his gaze briefly and stepped aside, judging it prudent not to ask any questions. Seven's life signs were steady and indicated that she had regained consciousness. He looked at the cell's featureless grey door made of tritanium and a transparent aluminium composite. It was as strong as a bulkhead and would take the ship's phasers at maximum to cut through it.
He frowned, watching the sensors' rendition of her movements around the cell. "How long has the door been opaque?" Tuvok asked.
"Only a few minutes, Commander," Rollins replied. "I scanned her on arrival--she was just coming around and asked for privacy to use the facilities."
Tuvok tapped the door control to make it transparent and drew his phaser as he approached the brig cell. The small room was empty.
Rollins drew his own phaser as he peered into the room in confusion. "She must still be in the bathroom," he said uneasily.
"The sensors indicated she was in the main room," Tuvok replied as he deactivated the door. The heavy door slid aside and Tuvok deactivated the force field. He cautiously stepped inside and moved to check the small bathroom, which consisted of a sink, toilet and sonic shower. It was clearly empty.
"Computer, location of Seven of Nine," he called, holstering his phaser and pulling out his tricorder.
"Seven of Nine is in the brig," was the expected answer.
The tricorder beeped a constant tone; it had found a Borg signature in the wall two metres above the sink mirror. Tuvok shifted his gaze to the affected area--the bathroom sensor had been partially assimilated. He looked down at the tricorder screen; the circuitry of the cell was crawling with nanoprobes reprogramming the sensors. So far the Borg nano-machines seemed to be confined only to the cell.
Pain burst in his mind like a supernova. "Tuvok to Ayala!" he called racing from the brig.
#
The Captain's quarters solidified around her. It was cool and quiet, but for the almost imperceptible hum of the engines and soft breathing. Seven's natural eye adjusted slowly to the low ambient light, but her enhanced Borg eye had no trouble processing every detail obscured by darkness.
A half-finished infant's blanket in bright primary colours and decorated with juvenile specimens of Ursidae along the boarder, lay across one arm of the sofa; a large wicker basket of cloth scraps sat on the floor between the coffee table and the sofa. A small, plain cup the colour of desert sand, which had been lying on the floor between the armchairs earlier, sat on the edge of the coffee table.
Soundlessly, she followed the soft breathing to the open threshold between the living and sleeping areas. She studied the scene for a few long minutes. The Captain's slight figure as she lay on her side, close to one edge of the large bed, faced the opposite bulkhead separating her quarters from her neighbour's. Chakotay's wall.
From her body's vital signs, Seven could tell that Janeway was not yet fully asleep and hovered between consciousness and unconsciousness, completely vulnerable. The Captain's blue--cornflower blue, the memory of her mother's laughing voice prompted her--nightclothes was trimmed in white lace. She shook her head as if to free her mind of the insidious, inconvenient memory. Her parents had been incompetent, irresponsible fools and she had paid the ultimate price!
As if slapped awake by Seven's sudden movement, Janeway sat up in bed, eyes unfocused and disoriented.
"Is someone there?" she managed to call out before Seven leapt on her, pinning her back onto the bed and covering her mouth with a brutal hand.
For a moment, her victim's eyes were wild and frightened as she struggled. Seven savoured Janeway's vulnerability--so different now from the arrogant Captain. But all too soon the Captain was back, the hardness flashing in her eyes, commanding Seven to let her go.
The need to smash that hardness overwhelmed Seven and she felt a certain satisfaction as her fist connected with the Captain's face, glancing off the cheekbone and ramming into her patrician nose.
The hoarse cry was truncated by another cry in a higher register and then it was like Seven stood outside herself, watching her own body--a puppet now to her rage--as it smashed away at the Captain with Borg enhanced strength and fury.
Janeway tried to curl into ball to protect her vulnerable chest and abdomen from further blows. Seven watched in detached fascination as her augmented hand came down like a hammer to the other woman's right kidney. Beneath her, the Captain stiffened, her body arched backward in a rictus of pain as she screamed and screamed, exposing what she sought to protect. The long, white column of Janeway's neck caught Seven's attention. Her hands wrapped around it of their own volition. Janeway clawed desperately at her, her actions becoming weaker and more ineffectual as her strength ebbed.
The terror in Kathryn Janeway's eyes fed a hunger deep within Seven. A hunger she hadn't known existed--or perhaps hadn't acknowledged till now. The need to smash, hurt, destroy, fuelled by her terrible anger.
Seven wasn't aware until that moment that she too was screaming--screaming her hatred and jealousy and anger and fear no words could articulate.
"I hate YOU!
"I hate you! You ruined my life! You ruined everything!"
Then she was crying and she didn't know why as tears rolled unbidden down her cheeks onto the battered, bloody body beneath her. Tears blurred her vision; a keening wail deafened her before she realised that it issued from her own throat and that she didn't know how to stop it.
Suddenly it stopped. She stopped. And before she registered the phaser blast, another enveloped her and the universe . . . stopped.
#
Sickbay was in chaos when Chakotay arrived. He started forward and felt Tuvok's iron grip on his arm. Angrily, Chakotay turned and opened his mouth to protest the Vulcan's interference, but the eloquent pain in the other man's eyes stopped him. Suddenly, Tuvok's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed heavily against a startled Chakotay who barely caught him in time. Behind him Chakotay heard the long, piercing tone--the Sickbay's own harbinger of death--as one of Kathryn's monitors wailed.
Distantly he heard the Doctor's shout for cardiac regulator and for Paris to ramp up the gain on the neuro-cortical stimulator.
"Tuvok?" Chakotay croaked hoarsely. "Tuvok!"
Tuvok's eyes fluttered open. "Everything is as it should be," he whispered. Chakotay stared at him in confusion as he struggled for control and moved out of Chakotay's embrace. "I'm fine, Commander," he said; the ashy tinge to his complexion belied his statement.
It was then that Chakotay knew that whatever had happened between Kathryn and Tuvok, it was more than mere fucking; Tuvok had felt her pain.
"However, if you do wish answers, I will inform the Doctor to release my medical files to you."
The medical-alert tone ended and the flurry of activity around Kathryn's bed stopped. The sudden absence of sound jerked Chakotay around. Paris leaned against the bulkhead, his head bowed, but his shaking shoulders told Chakotay all he needed to know without having to see the younger man's tears.
Wildman was more open with her emotions, drying her tears as she moved over to check Seven's vitals while the Doctor finished adjusting Kathryn's monitors. A force field flared into existence around the bed. Chakotay met the holographic man's hard gaze with a sense of dread.
The Doctor passed through the field and stalked over to Chakotay and Tuvok. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded.
"How is Kathryn?" Chakotay asked.
"She's stabilised and we've stopped the internal bleeding," the Doctor replied grimly. "Her cortical functions are good, but her heart stopped twice and she has three fractured ribs and a pulverised kidney that we can't regenerate until she's stronger. She's on life support and the nephretic unit will do for now, but I hope to get in there within the next forty-eight hours to repair the kidney."
Chakotay nodded as he looked over to Kathryn's bed; the Doctor repeated his question. "What is going on?"
Chakotay looked at Tuvok then took a deep breath before launching into an abbreviated account of the evening's events. The holographic physician's eyes widened as Ayala reported on Seven's vicious beating of the Captain and her hysteria when she realised what she was doing.
"It was like she knew what she was doing," Ayala said as the Doctor hurried over to scan Seven. "But she couldn't stop herself. And then she just started screaming."
Chakotay and Tuvok looked at the physician in shock as he repeated, "Oh no . . . oh no! No! She didn't! She couldn't have!" as he worked quickly at his instruments
"Doctor!" Chakotay said in concern. "What's going on? What's wrong with Seven?"  The holographic man looked up bleakly from the console; Chakotay could swear there were tears in his eyes.
"She came to me," he said hoarsely. Again the incongruity of that emotion-laden voice hit Chakotay. Hueristic vocal processors didn't get hoarse. "She wanted to experience a wider range of emotions and she was aware that she couldn't with her cortical node intact."
"So you turned it off?" Chakotay bellowed in disbelief.
"Of course not!" the Doctor returned indignantly. "That would have killed her! Even turning off the failsafe circuitry governing her emotions like she wanted would have been too dangerous. I found a safe way to gradually step down the amount of governing the implant gave her based on the amount of emotion she experienced." He looked pleadingly at Chakotay. "I warned her it would take years before the process was complete. And even then, because her body had been regulated by it for so long, especially through puberty, the implant would continue to provide low-level emotional control, possibly for the rest of her life."
Chakotay forced himself to calm down and nodded; the Doctor would never do anything to deliberately hurt Seven. "Go on Doctor," he prompted gently.
"For all intents and purposes, she would have been free of its influence in three to five years. In fact that background level of emotional governing would continue to decrease, although it could never reach zero while the implant still regulated much of her nervous and bodily systems. With the level of our technology at the moment, there's simply no way around it--at least no safe way," the Doctor said quietly.
"I take it she's turned off the implant's emotional safeguards," Tuvok stated, regarding the pale young woman.
The Doctor nodded. "She must have done it sometime in the last two months," he replied. "After her last check-up with me. She was less than forthcoming about her emotional state, but did report that she felt irrational spurts of anger and other emotions more often now, and hated the loss of control they represented." He laughed bitterly. "I told her she couldn't have it both ways--she couldn't expect to experience the full range of human emotion and still keep her famous Borg control. She would simply have to learn to control herself the way humans did--which was part of the reason I had programmed the implant to release its influence over her gradually as she learned to deal with her emotions. She found it all inconvenient."
"How could she have deteriorated so badly without us noticing?" Tom Paris asked.
"When I got there she was just pounding on the Captain and screaming that she hated her and that the Captain had ruined everything," Ayala said hoarsely.
The Doctor looked thoughtfully at the monitor. "You have to understand, dealing with emotions on her own for the first time has consequences for Seven that it would never have for someone who's dealt with them all her life. Physiologically and psychologically. Perhaps more so than even for a Vulcan, who has emotions but keeps them under tight control--self-imposed control. For Seven, that control has always been external; internal self-control was almost a non-concept to her when she first came on board. Over the last four years, she started to learn some of that internal control and stepping down the implant's safeguards should have allowed that learning to continue over a wider range of emotions. But with the safeguards turned off there was nothing to help her level off those extremes in hormone production. Therefore, having none of the mental processes most humans build up over a lifetime of experience to deal with hormones, their associated biochemical cascades and the subsequent emotions they induce--" he shrugged.
"Something as simple to you, Commander, as realising that Paris' sense of humour is nothing but a minor irritant and shrugging it off automatically by controlling your breathing, calming your heart rate or even counting to ten on occasion, is something she can't effectively do. Those association areas of her brain are relatively undifferentiated--immature. Her emotions build up, and as often happens with small children, gets channelled into her rage because she doesn't cognitively know how to process it and the resultant chemical imbalance can result in a host of psychological consequences, one of which is the idee-fixe--obsession. And if I'm correct Seven has developed an unhealthy fixation on Captain Janeway as a rival for your affections, Commander."
Chakotay's jaw tightened as the Doctor continued dispassionately. "In most cases, human beings deal with emotional upheavals without being consciously aware of what they're doing or that they are affecting their brain chemistry. You eat, sleep and breathe your emotions every day of your life--she hasn't had to in any form for eighteen years. And since being separated from the Collective, apart from the occasional malfunction of the implant, she's only had to deal with a limited range and intensity of emotions," he said.
Chakotay couldn't help feeling that they were looking accusingly at him and his stomach roiled. In terms of real emotional maturity, Seven of Nine was a teenager--if even that--and what he'd done in his quest for--what? Revenge on Kathryn? He had to face it--even though she'd been the one to instigate it, his relationship with Seven was unconscionable. Even if it had started simply as boost to his ego because he was flattered by her attention, he couldn't help feeling like a heel now for acting on her feelings towards him. Again, he heard B'Elanna's voice in his mind.
"I don't presume to know what goes on in your head, Chakotay, but you'd better figure out pretty quick what you're doing before you do a lot of damage--to yourself and to those two women. If you're using Seven to get back at Janeway, then you're not the man I thought you were."
He'd figured it out far too late. He wasn't the man he'd thought he was.
"From my readings of her hormone levels now," the Doctor said studying the console once more. "And extrapolating from them, the cocktail of she had flooding her brain was enough to induce a psychotic event that I can only compare to what was once called "Roid Rage"."
Chakotay and the others looked at him in confusion.
"Back in the late twentieth to mid-twenty-first centuries," the Doctor explained, "some athletes used to take performance enhancing substances to obtain an edge during competitions. It started with anabolic steroids and progressed on to increasingly nasty compounds with some rather horrific side effects that were felt for generations before the practice was finally stopped once and for all. But almost from the beginning, many of the artificial steroids and hormones induced psychotically aggressive behaviours in athletes who took them and in some cases the victims of "Roid Rage" attacks were killed--literally beaten to death."
"Oh God," Wildman whispered, face white as she stared in disbelief at Seven.
"Can you help her, Doctor," Chakotay asked hoarsely. "Can you reactivate the failsafe circuitry?"
The Doctor looked away, troubled. "I'm afraid it's not that simple, Commander," he said. "I can restore her brain chemistry's balance--in fact it's happening as we speak, but she's literally burnt out those circuits and their connections to her pituitary, as well as other hormone regulation and cortical centres. I can try to duplicate that circuitry, but it will take time for me to learn how or if it's even feasible to do so. It may be impossible to rewrite a Borg implant to such an extent and if I damage it further, I certainly won't be able to replace it. You have to remember that she only has this one because of Icheb's sacrifice." Chakotay nodded dumbly at him. "As it is, I'll have to check and make sure the implant's other systems haven't been compromised by this stunt."
"Doctor, why is it that no report of this procedure to step down Seven's failsafe circuitry was presented to the Captain and the Senior Staff for evaluation before performing it," Tuvok demanded harshly. "It was an untested procedure and at the very least, the Captain should have been informed before attempting to implement it."
The Doctor glanced from Tuvok to Chakotay and hesitated. There was a long moment of silence before he said, "Doctor-patient confidentiality, Commander."
"I submit that doctor-patient confidentiality no longer applies here, Doctor," Tuvok replied. "By your own admission, we may have a dangerously psychotic individual on our hands who has fixated on the Captain as some sort of enemy or at the very least, a sexual rival. She has brutally attacked Captain Janeway once and may do so again if given another opportunity. She has blatantly stated to Commander Chakotay and I that we can't keep her out of any ship's system, despite any security rating we could give her. And she's amply demonstrated that by her ability to hack Chakotay's command codes and using them to break into the Captain's quarters, and by using her nanoprobes to assimilate our systems so she could break out of the maximum security brig and attack the Captain."
The Doctor stared at him in genuine shock.
"Furthermore, she has bragged about other instances of gross transgressions that I would prefer not discuss until after a thorough investigation of her activities. Now, why was an untested, experimental procedure performed without proper consultation, Doctor?"
The Doctor was silent for a few more minutes, then lifted his head.  "Lieutenants Paris, Wildman and Ayala, dismissed," he said.  Paris regarded him in surprise for a moment before turning and following the other two out.
"What is this about, Doctor?" Chakotay asked, dreading the answer.
"When I told her that I intended to inform the Captain of the procedure, Seven argued that to do so would encroach on her privacy and civil liberties, and that it would be a violation of the Federation's patient privacy statutes," the Doctor replied.
"How so?" Tuvok asked.
"Understand that the procedure I performed was perfectly safe," he said earnestly. "My ethical subroutines would not have allowed me to proceed if they were not. The procedure had little to do with what happened today except the unforeseen effect--unforeseen on my part--of making her impatient for more sensations before she could handle them."
"But that's something we could have pointed out to you had we known what was going on!" Chakotay said angrily.
"Could you?" the Doctor retorted, pointedly staring into Chakotay's eyes. "Hindsight's always twenty-twenty, Commander."
Chakotay knew what the Doctor saw in his eyes--guilt for having started a relationship with Seven in the first place and not stopping to consider the consequences.
"It never occurred to me that she would deliberately turn the failsafe off," he continued quietly. "She knew how dangerous it was to do so. Seven argued that the Captain had no right to know about therapies she might use to alleviate her sexual dysfunction any more than she had the right to know about any other crewmember's therapy. She felt sexually inadequate in romantic situations, beyond simply being inexperienced, and felt it was manifested in her inability to respond properly with the failsafe always dampening the emotions she did feel. By stepping down the failsafe, she would be able feel emotions and learn to process them appropriately. She pointed out that matters having to do with her sex life were her private business and as such should remain strictly between us, hence the doctor-patient confidentiality."
"Thus tying your hands quite neatly," Tuvok observed.
"Logical to the end," Chakotay said bitterly.
"In retrospect, I realize now that she was probably very jealous of the Captain even before I performed the procedure. Left unchecked, it's possible that her jealousy became overwhelming and developed into psychosis as time went on and she began to experience emotions with greater frequency and intensity," he admitted. "But even so, I don't understand what could have driven her to such a drastic measure as completely deactivating the implant's failsafe."
Chakotay scrubbed his face tiredly with one hand. "I think she did it because she might have feared that she was losing me and that the only way to compete with Kathryn for my affections was to become more human--"
"Which she logically interpreted to mean more emotionally responsive," Tuvok said.
Chakotay nodded. "I knew that she was jealous of my relationship with Kathryn--it was impossible not to notice it--and I did what I could to help her work through those emotions. I'd stopped seeing Kathryn as much--it was too difficult."
Difficult for whom? his conscience prodded.
"About two weeks ago I started to notice that Seven was more emotional than usual; then one night I returned to my quarters to find her there," he said in a soft voice. "She was wearing a negligee and announced it was time for us to engage in sexual intercourse." Tuvok's face was impassive, but the Doctor's eyes narrowed angrily.
"I'm not so far-gone that I can't tell when a woman isn't ready to have sex no matter what she thinks--I told her no," he said, holding the Doctor's hard gaze. "She was armed with all kinds of statistics on the average length of human liaisons and how many goddamned kisses had been shared before initiation of sexual relations! She took it as a rejection because she had been Borg and accused me of still being in love with Kathryn. I explained that it had nothing to do with it, that she was sexually naïve and that we had to wait until the time was right for her--we hadn't even had our first public date yet." He smiled bitterly again. "That's when she suggested Paris' party; the date had completely slipped my mind. In retrospect, I doubt it slipped her mind that it was Kathryn's birthday."
"Then tonight, after being abusive towards the Captain and refusing to carry out orders, you told her that if she could not distinguish between your personal and professional relationships, you and she would have to re-evaluate your personal relationship," Tuvok said thoughtfully. "She took that to mean you were breaking up with her, becoming even more irrational and trying to attack you before I transported her to the brig."
"The last straw that broke the camel's back," the Doctor muttered.
He looked down at Seven and on his face was a look that told Chakotay all he needed to know; the Doctor was in love with her. This trick of light and computer programming had more love for Seven of Nine contained in force fields and holo-matrices than Chakotay had for her in his entire being.
"The best thing I can do for her is keep her sedated for the next few days," he continued, meeting Chakotay's gaze again. "I'll try to come up with a stop-gap measure to keep her stable while I'm researching ways to rebuild the failsafe. But the first thing on my agenda is the Captain--getting her into surgery and back on the mend. That will mean at least two weeks of complete rest--because although she might dispute it, at forty-five her body can't bounce back from trauma as severe as this overnight."
#
B'Elanna found him in one corner of the airponics bay contemplating the roses. No matter how much time passed, she found that she could never think of this place as anything but Kes' domain. If the Ocampan had stayed with Voyager she would be middle-aged now and heading quickly for that age limit of nine short years that marked her ephemeral species.
She studied Chakotay's dark head; his hair was sprinkled with gray. Her heart tightened with tenderness. She had made her peace somewhat with the father who had abandoned her, but Chakotay remained more of a father to her than Joseph Torres had ever been.
Father, brother, friend--once upon a time she had even considered him for a lover. So many times I've asked so much of him and he's always been there, she thought as she watched him scrub exhaustion from his eyes with the heels of his palms.
"Come to say I told you so?" His voice was bitter--hollow; he didn't look at her. It was guaranteed to get her hackles up, but as her temper rose she realised that was what he wanted--someone to yell at him . . . someone to blame him. A strange sort of absolution in a way.
"Say ten Hail Marys, promise never to do IT again and all your sins are forgiven". "It" had encompassed a multitude of sins.
Her Klingon mother, who had never understood her husband's human hypocrisies, had disapproved of young B'Elanna going to church. B'Elanna hadn't thought of it in years and wasn't sure why she did so now.
"No," she said quietly and sat down on the bench next to him. She waited for him to speak again. Tom had told her what Seven had done--described Janeway's horrific injuries in detail, so she understood something of what Chakotay was going through. And in a very real way he was very much to blame, but she knew instinctively that he wouldn't see what even Janeway would tell him; it takes three to make a triangle.
"Shit," he whispered. She put her arms around his broad shoulders and held him.
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"You can't be serious, Doctor," Chakotay said in shock as he studied the holographic physician's grim face; even Tuvok reacted with uncharacteristic emotion at the Doctor's prognosis. "We can't just leave her like that!"
"No, we can't," a soft hoarse voice said from behind them. Chakotay whipped around at the sound of Kathryn's voice. She was more pale and worn out than he'd ever seen her look.
The Doctor hurried over to check Kathryn's monitor. As she tried to sit up, he placed a restraining hand on her shoulder. Despite her determination to sit up, Chakotay could see her relief at being forced to lie back down.
"Captain, I don't think you understand--" the physician began.
"I understand perfectly," she replied; there was steel in her voice despite its softness. "Seven has deactivated her implant's failsafe control over her biochemical balance and as a result, cannot control her emotions and has become prone to fits of extreme violence. You, Doctor, believe that the only way to control her now is to hardwire a shunt from the control centre of the implant to the cybernetic relay terminus, therefore bypassing the damaged circuit. However, since you cannot duplicate the fine control the circuit provided, this shunt will in effect be an on/off switch. Either she will have all her emotions at full throttle or she will have none at all--be a drone again. A drone under our control--under my control."
She held Chakotay's gaze; she'd been awake and listening to the entire conversation. "I'm no Borg Queen," she said harshly. "I won't do that to her again. I won't take from her everything she has struggled so hard to accomplish--to become. You of all people, Doctor, should understand that. I've learned my lessons well."
The Doctor threw her a startled look.
"I'm no longer master over your program--I haven't been for a long time. How many times in your effort to expand beyond the parameters of your programming have you come up against a potentially fatal interaction that threatens your system. And how many times have you asked that I turn back the clock when you became too frightened to forge ahead. The one time I tried to, I nearly destroyed everything you are! But each time I refused to allow the genie to be put back in its bottle, you've managed to evolve past your limitations and as a result have surpassed your original programming a thousand-fold. You have gained complete autonomy over your program--over yourself."
The Doctor nodded wordlessly.
"Seven deserves nothing less. I won't turn back the clock on her," Kathryn finished quietly. "I can't! Find another way, Doctor."
"Yes Captain," he replied. "However, our options are still limited. The only viable alternative I've come up with is a combination of drug therapy in concert with psychological counselling. It's cruder, but it offers her a good chance at learning to control herself. The biggest drawback to this--why I rejected it in the first place--is that we don't have a qualified counsellor on board."
Chakotay recognised immediately that although he was Voyager'sde facto counsellor, he was also at the heart of Seven's problems and as a result couldn't act in that capacity.
"What about Vulcan meditative techniques?" Tuvok asked. "I would be willing to instruct her in techniques of emotional control."
The Doctor looked thoughtful. "It is a possibility," he admitted after a few moments, "as long as she's taught control rather than suppression. The consequences of suppressing her emotions could land her right back where she is now or worse--because the next time she loses control, it could result in an episode that would make this one look like a temper tantrum by comparison. As it is, the psychological fallout from this episode is going to bad enough and traumas of this nature tend to have a cumulative effect on a patient's psyche. That's why even with your help, Tuvok, I have to insist that we find someone capable of helping her psychologically. For humans, talking through problems is still one of the best ways to deal with them."
"Perhaps then, you will need someone who is versed in control techniques, yet still understands how to deal with emotional issues," Tuvok said. "Ensign Ombagi U'Lanai is a fifth level Vulcan Meditative Adept, but she is also three-quarters human."
"Kill two birds with one stone," Chakotay said, meeting Kathryn's hopeful gaze.
"I have always known Ensign U'Lanai to be a well-balanced individual who is thoughtful and compassionate," Tuvok said raising a characteristic eyebrow. "I will of course require your permission, Captain, to put this proposal before her."
"By all means, Tuvok," Kathryn said hoarsely. "But make sure she thoroughly understands the implications of what she'll be undertaking and that it is, of course, strictly on a voluntary basis."
"Yes Captain," he replied. "If you'll excuse me, I'll speak to her immediately." At Kathryn's nod, the security chief turned and strode out of the sickbay.
There was something indefinable in the Doctor's eyes as he looked from Chakotay to Kathryn and finally to Seven. "I'll see to the drug schedules," he said abruptly and retreated to his office.
Chakotay gazed down at Kathryn. If possible, her pallor was even worse now than it had been less than half an hour earlier. "How are you doing?" he asked gently.
"Aside from feeling like I've been run over by the proverbial Ferengi transport that stopped and reversed over me again?" she quipped in a pained whisper. "I'll be all right."
"Gods I'm sorry, Kathryn--" he began.
"You have nothing to apologise for," she said firmly. This time the understanding in her eyes filled him with hope, even as his traitorous inner doubt wondered if they were beginning another cycle of games again. Her next words dispelled that doubt.
"No regrets, Chakotay," she said. "It will only erode what we have left and I don't want that. We all need to move on from here no matter what direction we each take."
"And what direction will you take, Kathryn?" he asked.
Her eyes were troubled. "I don't know," she replied after a long moment. Then she smiled. "That's the thing about directions; the direction you think you're going in may not be the direction in which you're really going. To find out, you have to make the journey--"
"And even then, only by the Prophets' Grace will you know at journey's end in which direction you were going," he completed the Bajoran proverb. "Kai Opaka was a wise woman," he said hoarsely.
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Part 8
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