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Arana – Book 1 - Chapter 18
By Kudara
Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and crew belong to
Paramount/Viacom and no infringement of copyright/trade marks is
intended.
Disclaimer: The Dungeons and Dragons Roleplaying System is owned
by Wizards of the Coast and no infringement of
copyright/trademarks is intended. The only thing I would like to
lay claim to is the original D&D based character used in this
story.
Rating: (M +16).
Feedback: Always welcome, feedback is what encourages me to keep
writing. Please let me know what you like and what you dislike
about the story.
Revision History: 02/02/06
Summary: Unimatrix Zero drones remember their individuality;
Seven begins her weapons training.
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After our conversation with Tyr and Mystra, Seven and I
discussed the information we had received, and began drawing up
a list of what skills Seven would need to learn before we were
sent to Toril, ignoring for the moment the question of how and
when Mystra would give Seven the ability to manipulate energy.
Many of the items on the resulting, and rather lengthy, list
Seven could learn partially by study, and then practical usage,
but some of the skills, such as horseback riding and weapon’s
training could only truly be learned through hours of practice.
Finally Seven insisted that I go to bed, while she finished her
data analysis in preparation for the start of the mission in the
morning.
The next morning I stayed with the children, seeing to their
safety, while Voyager engaged the Borg Cube in an elaborate
deception that would hopefully end with Janeway, Tuvok and
Torres, assimilated, but not actually part of the Collective
thanks to the Doctor’s neural suppressant. The Borg Queen would
assume that the three were no longer a threat, and now ignored,
they could go about their sabotage and spread the virus that
would give the Unimatrix Zero drones the ability to retain their
individuality even when they were not regenerating. As soon as
they were done, they would then bring down the Cube’s shields
and Voyager would retrieve them. At least that had been the
plan; whether or not it succeeded we would know in two hours.
As the two hour mark came and went, with Voyager still under red
alert, I became more concerned. I had been in enough battles to
know that plans seldom worked out as envisioned, especially when
there were as many unknown factors as this one had included.
A sudden lurch of the floor underneath my feet almost threw me
against the console where I was studying, only my reflexes saved
me as I threw up my arms in time to stop myself. The violent
pitch that followed, however, succeeded in tossing me to the
floor.
A sharp cry from Azan impelled me from where I was lying on the
deck, lightly stunned from the impact, to my feet and then to
his side. The dark haired boy was lying face down upon the
floor, one hand clasped to his forehead. “Azan?” I questioned
him urgently, as I kneeled beside him.
“My head has been damaged,” he whispered as he rolled over, his
hand pressed against his forehead just over the brow of the
right eye, between his fingers bright red blood welled and
flowed.
Another sickening pitch and lurch of the deck threw all of us
against the floor once more. “Everyone stay down, and find
something to brace against so you won’t be thrown around,” I
ordered, taking a quick appraisal of the other three children,
and visually checking that they were unharmed.
I turned back to Azan, “Let me see how bad it is,” I said
gently, crouching beside him. His face was paler than usual, but
I suspected it was more the shock of the injury than anything
else. He removed his hand and I was able to see the long gash in
his forehead about a half inch above his eyebrow. “How are you
feeling? Nauseous? Dizzy?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he replied quietly, not sounding at all well.
I looked into his eyes, used my hand to shade them, and then
removed it to see how his pupils reacted. They did not react
equally, his right one remaining dilated for a moment longer
than it should have. “You have a concussion as well,” I noted. I
considered my options, I could, of course, call for a transport
to sickbay, or attempt to walk there with him and the other
children, not a good option considering we were under attack, or
I could simply heal his injury myself.
“Remove your hand once again Azan,” I instructed him gently, he
looked at me curiously but did as I requested. Gently I placed
my fingers upon the edge of the wound and murmured, “Elessa.” I
felt the energy being drawn out of myself, setting the skin of
my fingertips tingling where they touched Azan’s skin.
“I felt something,” Azan exclaimed, as I removed my hand and
examined his now undamaged skin.
“A tingling sensation, maybe it seemed to itch?” I asked,
smiling, recalling my first experience with being healed by a
priest.
“Yes,” he smiled, “it felt odd.” He rubbed his forehead where
the injury had been, “You healed it,” he sounded surprised.
“Yes I did,” I answered distracted, noting that everything had
been calm for a few minutes. “Icheb, can you tell what just
happened?” I asked the dark haired young man.
A few moments later, “I sent a message to Seven after I was not
able to find any information. She sent this back.” Icheb stepped
back from the console so that I could read the message.
Seven’s note was brief and to the point, Tuvok’s medication had
failed, and the Borg Queen had obtained Voyager’s command codes.
When Voyager attempted to rescue the three, the Borg were able
to drop Voyager’s shields using the codes, and Chakotay had been
forced to order a quick retreat before the ship was captured.
Voyager would have to be repaired, and the codes changed, before
another rescue could be attempted.
“Well, I guess we have time to go to my quarters so Azan can
change into fresh clothing,” I declared, looking at the blood
spots on the boy’s shirt, and considering it might be best that
he change before Seven saw him.
Three hours later, Voyager shook once again, but not as
violently as before, and whatever battle the ship was engaged in
was over quickly.
Thirty minutes after that event, Seven walked into the science
lab, “I apologize for not personally checking on you earlier,”
she said to the children, “But I knew Arana would see to your
safety,” she smiled at me warmly.
Mezoti helpfully assured her, “Azan got hurt, but Arana healed
him.”
Upon hearing this Seven crossed immediately to Azan, kneeled in
front of him and began looking him over carefully.
“He cut his head on one of the consoles, Milady. It was a simple
matter to heal it,” I assured her.
Icheb commented, “Azan also had a concussion, Arana healed that
as well.”
I loved Icheb for his truthfulness, his honesty, but at this
particular moment, as Seven began peppering Azan with questions,
I wished that he had kept that particular detail to himself. I
walked up behind Seven and rested a hand upon her shoulder,
“Milady, I healed that as well, he is fine.” Seven looked up at
me, her blue eyes questioning, and I smiled reassuringly at her.
“I am not damaged anymore,” Azan spoke up, glancing between us.
Seven examined him for another moment, “Very well, but if you
begin to not feel well let me know immediately,” she instructed
him. Looking back up at me she said, “Thank you, Arana.”
“It seemed the simplest and safest thing to do, Milady,” I
commented.
She stood, and began telling us what had happened during the
past few hours, “We have successfully recovered Captain Janeway,
Lt. Cmdr Tuvok and Lt. Torres. Unimatrix One was also destroyed,
Captain Janeway ordered the interlink frequency disrupted to
prevent the Borg Queen from using it to deploy a nanovirus the
Borg developed that was capable of killing all the drones with
the mutation. After it was destroyed, a Borg sphere in control
of one of the former drones assisted us in attacking the Cube
and recovering them.”
“They are in sickbay?” I asked her.
Seven nodded, “The Doctor is already beginning the process of
removing their armor and implants. The process will take several
hours.”
I smiled, "If the Doctor will let me help, I might be able to
assist in their recovery.”
Seven raised her brow, intrigued, “Perhaps, after the implants
are removed it will take them several days to fully recover;
your assistance should shorten that time.”
Several hours later, after we had eaten and the children had
begun their regeneration, Seven and I went to the holodeck for
our first training session.
Standing outside the holodeck, I paused, uncertain as to which
program to run, “Have you given any thought as to what type of
weapon you would like to use?” I asked Seven. I knew most
sorcerers used weapons such as a dagger, staff, mace or
Morningstar, weapons that were fairly easy to learn how to use,
but I didn’t know if she was interested in using one of those
weapons.
“She wants to use a set of these,” Q appeared suddenly beside
us, he held up a set of oddly shaped, dark-handled knives in
midnight-black sheaths that were embossed decoratively, but did
not bear the mark of any deity.
It only took me a moment to recognize what they were. “Kukri,” I
exclaimed in surprise and dismay, “Milord, I cannot teach Seven
how to fight with that weapon, for I do not know how to use
them.” I paused, “Though I have fought against someone that was
skilled in their use, and know that they can be a deadly weapon
in skilled hands, capable of both effective offense and
defense.”
As I remembered the thief that had attacked me one dark rainy
night in the seedy depths of Waterdeep’s Dock Ward, I regarded
the weapons Q was holding with respect. On that night, over five
years ago, I hadn’t known enough to respect the oddly shaped
knives the thin, greasy-haired thief was using. It wasn’t until
he proved how capable they were of not only parrying my
longsword, but also of cutting a rather deep gouge into my
shield that I recognized how much danger I was in. Fortunately,
the arrival of my fellow knights caused him to flee, but I had
never forgotten the night, and had taken the time to learn
something of the weapons he had used so efficiently.
Q handed the knives to Seven with a flourish and a short bow, “I
believe these are for you,” a small smile played about his
mouth.
Seven accepted them curiously, and drew one from its black
sheath. Gleaming in the light, the dark silvery blade revealed
lighter silver and blue highlights as Seven examined it, and was
not immediately recognizable as any metal I had seen before. The
blade itself was approximately fourteen inches in length, narrow
near the guard-less hilt, and then broadening and curving
forward, its greatest width near the tip and then slightly
recurving and forming the point. The curved weapon was edged
only on one side, the inward curving one, while the outer edge
had a thick spine capable of blocking all but the heavier of
weapons.
As Seven examined it closely, I thought I saw a symbol etched
upon the blade, but then she turned the blade and it was gone
again. “Milady would you turn the blade more slowly, I believe
there is a mark upon it.” Seven glanced at me with a raised
brow, but did as I asked, and this time I could see it clearly,
when the light caught the blade at precisely the right angle the
sigil of Mystra, a river surrounded by seven stars, could be
seen upon it.
“And as for a teacher, why I’ve already thought of that,” Q said
smoothly with a charming smile, and indicated the door to the
holodeck, “If you two lovely ladies will just step inside...”
I eyed him dubiously, wondering just what he was planning,
however, even though his manner was roguish, I sensed he had no
ill intentions. Seven and I glanced at one another, her brow was
raised questioningly, and I shrugged, seeing no reason why we
should not do as Q asked.
I stepped forward smartly, making sure I was through the doors
before Seven entered. Looking around alertly, I examined the
environment. We had stepped from the corridor into a clearing,
sunlight shone in fitful beams through the dense canopy of trees
and tall bamboo onto ferns and other plants I did not recognize.
Once the doors had shut the illusion of being surrounded by a
jungle was complete.
Movement caught my eye; a man had just stepped out of the jungle
into the clearing. His deeply lined face spoke of a life lived
out in the sun and weather, the skin almost the color and
texture of fine leather. His dark eyes examined us, or rather
Seven, for she was the main subject of his interest, as intently
as I was examining him.
“This is the one I am to train?” he directed his question to Q.
Q nodded, “Yes she is, U-Thet-Myaing meet Annika Hansen.” Q
smirked as Seven glared at him, “The ingratitude,” he exclaimed,
“Here I am serving as but a poor delivery boy, and she looks
like she wants to use those knives on me!” Q sniffed
self-pityingly.
Seven gave an irritated sigh and turned back toward U-Thet-Myaing,
“Annika Hansen was my name before I was assimilated by the Borg,
I prefer to be called Seven.”
“Very well, Seven. Let us begin your training,” he beckoned her
forward. “You may lay your kukri on the mats for now,” he
instructed as Seven stepped toward him.
Once Seven had done as he requested and was standing in front of
him he continued, “I will be training you in the Burmese
Fighting Art known as Bando, once I am satisfied you have
mastered the basics, I will begin training you in the use of the
kukri.”
“I was trained, however unwillingly, in Tsunkatse, a Delta
Quadrant martial art,” Seven informed Thet-Myaing.
“Yes, and the stance, blocks and kicks you learned will serve as
a good basis for your training, but I will not be teaching you
how to strike target sensors on your opponents.” He remarked
dismissively. “I will be teaching you how to survive and win an
encounter where an enemy or enemies have managed to close with
you, and intend on capturing or killing you. By the time your
training is complete, you will have a decent chance of walking
away from such a situation instead of being the one lying dead
on the ground, or perhaps even worse, tied up awaiting the
tender treatment of your captors.” His face was as grim as his
words.
I inhaled sharply, that had been one of the reason’s I had not
been eager to take Seven with me on this search for information,
the fear that she might fall into the hands of either Bane or
Lovitar’s priests.
Seven glanced in my direction, her eyes haunted, and I knew she
was remembering the ‘tender’ treatment I had received. Her face
hardened, and she turned back to him, resolve in every line of
her body. “Then we should begin my training.”
Thet-Myaing’s dark eyed gaze was, I thought, judicious, weighing
Seven’s attitude and determination. When he nodded abruptly, I
was not surprised; Seven was not one to shirk away from a duty
just because it was dangerous and unpleasant. And besides, in
this case it seemed as if there was little choice, either we
sought out Bane and Lolth’s plans on our terms, or they would
eventually be able to seek us out in either plane.
Q placed a hand on my sleeve, and inclined his head, drawing my
attention to a trail that lead away from the clearing on our
left. After a moment of watching Thet-Myaing and Seven, as he
corrected her stance and began going through the first motions
of a training kata, I followed Q.
“I believe your time would be better spent doing some training
of your own, instead of watching hers,” Q commented as we
entered another clearing. “Not that I don’t doubt you would find
that enjoyable,” I could hear the sly amusement in his tone, and
frowned reprovingly at him.
“This is your knight?” a man’s voice came from my right, an
older bearded gentleman, his long graying hair tied back, stood
there eyeing me doubtfully.
“Champion of Torm, Arana, Milord,” I introduced myself with a
courteous bow.
He frowned, “I’m no noble, Master-at-Arms, Johannes Liechtenauer
at your service, Madam.”
My interest was piqued by his title, “I beg your pardon, Master
Liechtenauer, for any offense given.”
His mouth twitched, “Well she’s certainly well enough spoken to
be a knight,” he commented to Q.
“Oh, yes, courteously spoken, chivalrous, noble,
self-sacrificing,” Q rolled his eyes, “a true paragon of all the
knightly virtues, reminds me of Tyr every time I’m near her.”
I was overwhelmed at the compliment, though I knew he did not
entirely mean it as such, “Milord Q, you honor me too greatly, I
am humbled you would consider me worthy of comparison to My Lord
Tyr.”
Q’s mood turned suddenly heated, “Yes you are, but unlike him
you’re considerably easier to kill! I’m hoping Master
Liechtenauer will increase the chances of you living long enough
to find out what Bane and Lolth are up to, and maybe knock some
sense into that thick head of yours, your nobility and
self-sacrifice won’t do anyone any good if it gets you killed.”
He glared at me, and sharp underneath his outward anger I sensed
his concern.
I stared at him, confused both by his outburst and the emotion
behind it, “I will do my best to learn all that I can from
Master Liechtenauer, Milord,” I promised him sincerely, after a
heartbeat’s hesitation.
“Yes, well,” Q appeared to be somewhat embarrassed, but covered
it quickly with his usual bantering manner, “I believe you will
find these to be of some help in that.” Q snapped his fingers
and I suddenly found myself dressed in my armor and equipped
with my longsword and shield. “Oh, and Arana, time flows
differently here, you have five hours until you need to leave.”
With that tidbit of information he snapped his fingers and
disappeared, leaving with the Master-at-Arms.
“Well,” commented Master Liechtenauer, “Let’s evaluate your
level of training shall we?” A huge bear of man dressed in full
plate armor stepped out of the forest at these words and drew
his sword. “If you would practice with my assistant,” Master
Liechtenauer requested mildly.
Five hours later, after another brief visit by Q during which he
returned my armor to my room and admonished us to return each
day for training, Seven and I stepped out of the holodeck, or
perhaps it would be more accurate to say that we stumbled
wearily out of the holodeck. I hadn’t been as sore and bruised
as I was at this moment for years, and I knew Seven had faired
no better. I stretched, wincing as my left shoulder protested
the movement vigorously. Much to Master Liechenauer’s surprise,
I had been able to knock down his muscle-bound assistant on more
than one occasion by battering into him forcefully, but doing so
had definitely taken a toll on me.
“You are injured,” Seven noted in concern.
Noting the stiff way she held herself and the bruising just
beginning to show on her left cheek, I raised my eyebrow, “No
worse than you, Milady.”
Seven stated reluctantly, “We should go to Sickbay.”
We stood unmoving, considering the idea of braving Sickbay
looking as we did with Captain Janeway and Cmdr. Tuvok present.
“Or I could just heal us,” I offered tentatively, “Captain
Janeway and the others are probably asleep, I would not want to
wake them unless it was absolutely necessary.” I knew we needed
to inform Captain Janeway of the meeting with Tyr and Mystra,
and the information we had received, but I didn’t feel as if it
were a good idea for it to happen so soon after their mission
and implant removal. Tomorrow, depending on how they were doing,
would be the earliest appropriate time.
“You are correct, we should not disturb them,” Seven agreed in a
relieved tone. “Shall we proceed to your quarters?” she
inquired, glancing at me uncertainly.
“Of course, Milady,” I started walking in the direction of my
quarters, “Would you like to use the shower in my quarters as
well?” I asked.
Seven hesitated a moment, giving me a surprised look that turned
thoughtful, “Yes, I believe I would,” she agreed.
As soon as we entered my quarters I stopped, gazing curiously at
the inset in the window unit that contained my bed. The last
time I had been in this room the metal surface beneath the bed
had been one unbroken area, now there was what appeared to be a
thin drawer that extended the entire length of it. “Curious,” I
noted going over to it, “I was not aware that any changes were
to be made to my room.” I pulled on the handle and it slid
outward smoothly, revealing the same padded surface as was used
for my bed.
I glanced inquiringly at Seven who shook her head, frowning, “I
was not aware of any scheduled modifications to your quarters
either.”
I continued pulling what was obviously an extension out from
under my bed, when it was completely extended it swung upward
and clicked into place, forming one larger double bed. Seven
knelt beside it and glanced underneath, as I watched curiously,
she pulled on something under it and a support swung down.
Seven stood, and stared at what was now a double bed, “The
design is efficient,” she noted approvingly. “Perhaps the
Captain authorized the modification after our announcement?” she
did not sound very sure of her statement, even as she made it.
I began to reply that she was, most likely, correct, and then
stopped. The more I thought about it the more unlikely it
seemed, Captain Janeway had given her permission to us, yes, but
she hadn’t been very enthusiastic about it, concerned that I
would not be staying. The only one who had seemed pleased to see
us together had been Q, and Tyr and Mystra, who had seemed to
take the relationship as an established fact.
“Actually, Milady, I do not think Captain Janeway or Lt. Torres
knows about this modification. I suspect it was done by Q.” I
offered.
Seven’s eyebrow winged upward in surprise, then she looked at
the bed speculatively, “Q has been very helpful to us.” She
turned in my direction and winced, reminding me abruptly of the
original reason for us coming to my quarters.
“My pardon, Seven, let me take care of your injuries,” I stepped
up to her hand placed on hand on her cheek, over the bruise
there, and the other on her shoulder. Her eyes closed and she
turned her face to rest more fully against my hand. A warm
feeling suffused my body as I looked upon her face nestled so
trustingly in my palm, “Elessa,” I whispered tenderly, and felt
my entire palm tingle against her skin. Seven’s eyes opened
startled, her gaze met mine, and she gasped. Whether in surprise
at the feeling, at something she saw upon my face, I did not
know, or really care at this moment, my attention was focused on
the inviting softness of her parted lips. I pressed my lips
against hers, enjoying the feel of their fullness against mine,
and as she began returning the kiss unreservedly, I did not know
if the tingle in my lips was due to the fact I was still healing
her or from her effect upon me.
Long moments later, stifling my moan of protest, I pulled
reluctantly away from Seven’s lips. Caressing her cheek I could
see that it was now unblemished, with an unwilling sigh I
dropped my hand away from her face. “How do you feel?” I asked
her.
A smile grew upon her lips and I blushed, discerning easily the
reason for it. As my color increased so did her smile, until at
last she took pity upon me, “I do not appear to be damaged
anymore.” She hesitated, “Arana, I felt something.”
“A tingling, or itching sensation?” I grinned, remembering
Azan’s comment earlier.
“That as well, but not only that,” Seven replied, “I believe I
felt your emotions for approximately four seconds.” Her voice,
her eyes, reflected her wonder at the experience.
I drew in a breath, “Oh,” I exclaimed softly, I had forgotten
about that side effect to healing. “That happens sometimes when
the healer and the one being healed have strong feelings for one
another.”
“You have very strong emotions for me,” Seven stated, watching
me closely.
I nodded, “Yes I do,” I answered simply. I could see the
confusion on her face, “I am falling in love with you,” now it
was my turn to hesitate, “And I believe the emotions I sense
from you indicate that you feel the same toward me.”
Seven drew in a breath, her eyes, bright with emotion, met mine
and she silently nodded. Her hands came up and cupped my face,
“When we finish this process of falling in love, we will feel
even more strongly about one another?”
“So I understand from all that I have heard and read, though I
have never experienced this strong a feeling for anyone before,”
I admitted.
I could see that Seven was pleased by my answer, “It is
difficult to imagine such emotions, but I am interested in
experiencing them - for you.” Her eyes searched mine for a
moment, then she gave me a smile which I returned. I went to
cover her hands with my own and winced as my shoulder painfully
protested. “You are still damaged,” Seven exclaimed as her hands
fell from my face and she gently touched my shoulder.
“Yes,” I ruefully admitted, “I need to tend to my own injuries,
and I believe you wished to take a shower.”
While Seven showered, I healed my shoulder and a few other
lesser injuries. I was surprised by the loose clothing Seven was
wearing when she stepped out of the bathroom. The top was short
sleeved, revealing a flat oval shaped implant in her right arm
that I had never seen before, and light blue in color, the pants
were loose fitting as well and of the same color. I was even
more surprised when she insisted that I take a like set in with
me to change into after my shower, and it caused me to think
that she meant take the invitation Q’s modification of the bed
made, and sleep here.
Thus, I was not surprised to find that she had made up newly
widened bed and was already lying down under the covers upon it
when came out of the bathroom. I was just not certain as to what
my decision would be, whether to attempt to sleep beside her or
insist that I sleep on the floor. Thought much of my thoughts
fled at the sight of her laying there, her hair a golden colored
halo as it lay loose upon the pillow.
“I have never succeeded at any attempts to sleep since I was
separated from the Collective,” Seven looked uncertain as she
commented, “Perhaps this location and your presence will assist
me.” I had the impression that she knew that I would object to
us sleeping together, but was hoping that she would be proven
incorrect.
I suddenly felt rather selfish at not considering why she would
want to sleep here, instead of only considering my own comfort,
“Of course, if you believe it will help,” I replied.
Seven had taken my usual spot, leaving me the side of the bed
that was easiest to get out of, I suspected her choice had been
purposefully made so that I would not feel trapped, and I
appreciated her thoughtfulness. Hesitantly I slid under the
covers, and lay down on my back, careful to keep a few inches
between us and ordered the lights to dim.
After a few minutes, Seven sighed and I could feel her
unhappiness, she sat up and I knew that she was about to offer
to leave, “I am sorry, lay back down and let us attempt this
again.” I entreated her before she could say anything.
In the darkness of the room, I could not make out the expression
on her face as she stared at me; “Very well,” she finally agreed
and slid under the covers once again.
I looked at how she was lying stiffly on her back, “That
position is comfortable for you?” I asked her doubtfully.
Soundlessly she rolled to her side, still facing me and looked
at me inquiringly. I rolled over, mirroring her posture, and
moved towards her until my back just brushed against her chest.
A bare second later, she closed the gap remaining between us and
curled her body around mine, and wrapped her arm around my
waist, burying her face into my hair. I resisted the urge to
make an appreciative sound at the soft feel of her chest against
my back, and how her hips, and her legs pressed invitingly into
my body.
“This is comfortable,” she whispered in my ear.
I choked back a laugh, it was comfortable, almost overwhelmingly
so, but it was also arousing, and I wasn’t certain which would
win out at this moment.
Sheer weariness was the eventual winner for both of us, and so
it was that when the computer brought up the lights and
announced the time, it woke both of us from a sound sleep.
Sometime during the night, I had sprawled onto my stomach and
Seven now rested partially on top of me, her arm over my
shoulder, and her hand clasped mine. Her right leg was between
mine, and her upper thigh pressed against me rather intimately.
I was startled that being partially trapped as I was had not
woken me; years ago I had never been able to allow Alessea to
make love to me while I was on my stomach at all, as it tended
to cause rather vicious flashbacks. Yet with Seven, though I
felt somewhat tense now that I was aware of the positioning, I
did not feel threatened by it, or by her. On the contrary, my
strongest thought was how achingly aware I was of her thigh
where it pressed against me, and how increasingly difficult it
was to fighting the urge to press myself more firmly against
her.
Thankfully, after a brief hug and a murmured “Good morning,”
Seven rolled away from me, removing the temptation. “I need to
see to the children, we will meet you in the mess hall?” she
inquired. Our eyes met, and now I could see that she too had not
been unaffected by how intimately we had been lying together
when we wakened.
I nodded in reply, and then asked, “We will go to see Captain
Janeway this morning or wait until the afternoon?”
Seven frowned, “I will ask the Doctor about her condition and
inform you of which is the better time.”
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