Work Text:
Beauty
*Beep Beep Beep, Beep Beep Beep*
The engineering console sounded at her every touch as her fingers flew across the interface with ease.
A power relay update…or more specifically, a power relay update for the replicator in the Mess Hall. Seven input the algorithms with a straight face, ignoring the fact that Voyager had plenty of more important upgrades that needed her expertise. This was child’s play that equated to adjusting regeneration parameters on an alcove, something the Borg would have implemented ship-wide in seconds.
“Stop gawking at Seven and get back to work!”
At the Lieutenant’s outburst from across the room, Seven quirked an eyebrow as B’Elanna stormed over to the console beside her. “Gawking? You mean staring at me.” She kept her gaze on the console, inputting the final code before turning to the engineer with her hands clasped behind her back. “I was not aware.”
“Of course not.” B’Elanna snapped and rushed around Seven to another workstation, wasting no time as she hastily input data from a PADD in her hand. “Ever since you’ve gotten here productivity has gone down.”
Seven sensed there was more the half-Klingon wanted to say but held back.
Direct and blunt, B’Elanna was one of few people on Voyager to be so and she appreciated that. No wasted time or meaningless conversations. But in recent weeks B’Elanna said less to her, became easily agitated by her presence in engineering, and took it out on crew. Today was no different.
The main engineering doors swooshed open.
“B’Elanna, Tom’s having trouble controlling Voyager’s speed.” The Captain announced as she approached the Lieutenant who hunched over a console. “Any problems with the propulsion system?”
“Forgive us Captain, we’re a little behind on scheduled maintenance.” B’Elanna looked up from her console with a glowering gaze, making eye contact with a couple crew members who hastily averted their gazes. She resumed her data entry with a purse of her lips. “I had to dock some power while we run tests.” B’Elanna sighed and turned to the Captain. “Sorry, I forgot to notify you.” Her tone softened.
“Anything I can help with?”
“We’ll be done in about an hour, not enough to pull you from the bridge.”
“Well then, I’ll leave it in your hands Lieutenant.” The Captain turned to leave but her eyes connected with Seven’s. She set a hand on Seven’s shoulder with a crooked grin. “How’s Seven doing?” The Captain looked to the blonde, sharing another momentary gaze, Seven’s eyes drifting down to the hand on her shoulder.
“Great…” The Lieutenant’s words dripped with sarcasm, before she turned around and resumed her work again. “Her presence certainly has boosted morale…if you catch my drift.”
“Lieutenant.” The Captain smiled but her tone held a clear warning.
At that, B’Elanna stopped and faced them once more. “Fine, I’ll play nice.”
The Captain’s smile stretched into another grin, and she looked to Seven. “Let me know if you need anything.” She glanced to B’Elanna with a knowing look and playful purse to her lips, giving Seven a pat on the shoulder before she left.
B’Elanna’s gaze met Seven’s, her brow tensing the longer they stared at each other. She finally huffed a sigh and looked away, but the Ex-Borg still watched her. “That update failed.” B’Elanna turned to the console.
“For the power relay?”
“Yes.” B’Elanna pulled up a ship wide schematic with the affected area highlighted red. “We have a malfunction in Jefferies tube thirty-six.”
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Closed in, they crawled through the Jefferies tube, the walls at their elbows and the journey, so far, pleasantly silent.
Behind B’Elanna, Seven slid the toolbox as they moved forward; the rigid grating pressing into her hands and knees. She engaged in many odd human practices in an effort to understand the ship and crew, but crawling on ones hands and knees was an unwelcome sensation.
How did the crew accomplish anything with such an inefficiently laid out ship?
Unfortunately, it seemed she was the only one struggling with that concern.
She saw Voyager’s inefficiencies, the human error. They, the crew, avoided her.
“Is there something wrong with me Lieutenant?”
B’Elanna’s brow furrowed as they stopped at their destination. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem to have a problem with me.”
“Ripping off the Band-Aid, okay…” B’Elanna removed a panel from the sidewall; a glow emanating from the unit, bathing them and the Jefferies tube in blue. “…You’re distracting.” She paused a moment. “Your work is impeccable…but you’re the only one getting anything done.”
“Explain Lieutenant—”
“Seven I don’t have time to talk about this, and frankly I don’t want to. Hand me the sonic driver.” B’Elanna held out her hand and peered into the power relay; the toolbox *click* the only sound as her pointed gaze inspected the system. “If it really means that much to you talk to the Captain about it.” She took the tool handed to her and carefully reached into the relay.
“Do you think she will listen?”
“I’ve never met a better listener.”
Seven leaned closer to get a better view of the relay and B’Elanna stiffened, a menacing, dark gaze beneath the half-Klingon’s brow; the sonic driver stilled in the woman’s hand. “You really gotta breathe down my neck?”
Seven scanned the system, her own brow tensing at the high electrical readings only her eyes could see. “Lieutenant, the electromagnetic coil is malfunctioning, touching—”
Sparks popped from the relay as the tip of the sonic driver brushed against the coil. B’Elanna jumped slightly and Seven leaned away before they collided.
“Fuck.”
The relay went dark and the half-Klingon simmered, her rising anger thickening the air with each passing second; the sonic driver clenched in her grasp.
Seven watched the Lieutenant. Known for their rage, aggression, and fighting prowess, Klingons were by far one of the most virulent species the Borg ever assimilated. They were useful defense drones, seemingly impervious to anything.
But contrary to Seven’s expectations, the Lieutenant simply took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. No enraged outburst.
“This is the last thing we need.”
“Bridge to Lieutenant Torres.”
B’Elanna lifted her gaze and tapped her combadge. “Yes Captain.” She answered with only a hint of irritation in her voice.
“Tactical just went down. How are those repairs coming?”
“A power relay shorted. I’ll have it up in a couple hours.”
“Sure you don’t need help?”
B’Elanna sighed, annoyance clear on her face. “Nope. Seven’s here…breathing down my neck.” She grumbled. “We’ll get it done Captain.”
The Captain chuckled. “Sounds like you two make a great team.”
B’Elanna pursed her lips at the smile in the Captain’s voice.
“Let me know how it goes.”
“Will do.”
Seven waited a second to ensure the conversation was finished. “Am I in your way Lieutenant?”
“You could back up a little.”
Seven complied as B’Elanna reached into the power relay.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have your eyes…” The Lieutenant added.
“Assimilation is a painful process. You are better off as you are.”
“A strange compliment...” B’Elanna smirked. “Give me some light.”
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20:00 Hours
Seven headed to the Captain’s quarters.
In the hall crew members stared at her and she stared back as they passed.
It was strange. Drones did not look at each other in this manner. They went about their assigned tasks, hardly noticing one another. She’d never had more eyes on her than now, and never noticed how much emotion they held. Some gazes were hostile, others confused or surprised. Some sized her, and she them.
She must’ve been damaged or malfunctioning, that was the only logical reason for such looks. But her diagnostics were normal, and she was adapting exceptionally well given her circumstances.
Outside the Captain’s quarters Seven hesitated to press the sensor, uncertain why.
“Yes.”
The door opened and Seven stepped into the room, her ocular implant readjusting for the lack of sufficient light as she scanned the premise, searching between five different seating arrangements for the Captain. The sprawling room was an inefficient use of space, too much for one small human.
Screeching filled the air, and she grit her teeth with a deep furrow scrunching her brow.
“Seven? Come in.”
She looked to the uniformed woman on the couch, pointing to an empty space beside her.
“Would you like to sit?”
“No.”
Her ears buzzed with pinprick sensations; the screeching overwhelming her, seeming to come from every direction. She lifted a hand to her ear grimacing as she searched for the sound’s source. “What is that?”
“What is what?”
“That high pitched noise.” She stopped half-way to the source with a darting impatient gaze, missing the Captain’s growing smile as the woman set her PADD on the seat cushion beside her and stood.
“Seems like you’re not a fan of Vivaldi’s L’Estro Armonico.”
The Captain pointed to a spinning disc machine situated in a corner where the curved bulkhead and viewport joined. Seven hesitated to move closer, stealing a glance to the woman half shadowed half lit, starlight at her back as she moved past the viewport.
Closing in Seven clenched her jaw, grimacing at the intensifying screech.
The woman chuckled. “Is it really that terrible?”
Seven caught the Captain’s shining gaze. “What do you mean?”
“You look like you’re in pain.”
“It is not pleasant. I am adjusting my auditory processors now.” She watched the spinning disc, the HUD of her left eye registering the corrected changes. “And it is much quieter.” She straightened up, looking to the Captain with a confident lift of her chin.
“What the rest of us wouldn’t give to do that on occasion.” The Captain backtracked to the table in front of the couch as she retrieved her mug and turned around with a sip. She gestured to the machine. “First time seeing a record player I assume.”
Intrigued, Seven tried to scan the device, but each time the message “unrecognized” surfaced where there should have been a set of results. “I am unfamiliar with this technology…”
“Probably because there’s not much technology to it.”
“What is it?”
“An artifact from Earth’s twentieth century.” The Captain started closer to the machine. “It operates on the simple science of amplified sound wave vibration. Etched grooves in the disc are read by a stylus which produces the sound.”
“Like a computer reading code.”
“Close, but even simpler.”
The sound slurred to a slow passage.
“Would you like me to turn it off?”
Seven watched the disc spin, mesmerized and growing entranced as she counted the rotations. “No.”
“Sure you wouldn’t like to sit?”
“No.” She turned to the Captain who meandered back to the couch and took a seat.
The Captain watched her, but her gaze was different from the rest of the crews’, warm yet enigmatic, drawing her curiosity.
“Suit yourself.” The Captain crossed her legs and leaned against the back of the couch. “How has your last month on Voyager been? No complaints on our exemplary service I hope.” She tenderly smiled.
“An interesting experience. Many of the crew often stare at me.” Seven paused with a tense in her brow, the woman below sitting in patient wait. “Captain, why is that?”
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The violins’ vivacious jaunts slowed to a halt, and a single violin’s warm, but sobering outcry wafted the room, expressing Janeway's deepening guilt for exposing this innocent woman to a world so foreign to her.
Looking at the brown-suited Ex-Borg a somber guilt washed over the Captain. The biosuit left little to the imagination, clinging to every curve of Seven’s body, even drawing her own gaze. She had to remind herself not to stare, catching herself on multiple occasions.
“Am I distracting Captain—”
“What?” Janeway looked to those piercing blue eyes.
“Lieutenant Torres says I am distracting.”
Janeway thought for a moment. “B’Elanna can be quite brazen. Don’t let her get to you.”
“She has not. I have started to notice the crews’ gazes as well.”
The Captain gave Seven’s figure another look, deciding how best to approach the delicate topic. “…You’re a beautiful woman Seven.” She met Seven’s gaze, noting the subtle tilt of the woman’s head.
“Beautiful? Borgs have no use for beauty.”
‘Well, at least she’s not vain.’ Janeway took a sip of her coffee.
“I find my appearance odd. As Borg I had no use for hair and clothing.”
The Captain bit back a surprisingly unbecoming thought. “But you’re not Borg anymore.”
“Is beauty something of importance to humans?” A child-like curiosity softened the curtness in Seven’s voice.
“…Yes and no. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. However, it is something humans have come to rely on. Possibly far too much.” Janeway tried to add some truth to her rose-colored words.
“Eye of the beholder?”
“It’s an Earth saying that means something one person finds beautiful another may not. It’s personal preference.”
“And your preference finds me beautiful?”
‘Uh-oh, be cool Katie.’ Setting the mug on the table slow she pushed off the couch, approaching Seven with an easy stride as she slipped a hand into her pocket. “I don’t think I’m the only one who would agree. Follow me.” She gestured to the bedroom with a subtle point of her finger, walking with the Ex-Borg in tow. Her gaze avoided the sight of her bed. She couldn’t remember the last time she brought someone this far into her personal space, and certainly not while in command.
Janeway walked into her bathroom, the sensored lights automatically coming on as she stopped in front of a full-length mirror. She looked to Seven who stood nearly as tall as the doorway; the Ex-Borg’s apprehensive gaze searching the room then settling on her as though awaiting her next order.
“Come here.” Janeway reached out, beckoning the woman with a confident flick of her wrist. Seven stopped beside her, their shoulders brushing as Janeway took the woman’s arm with a gentle grasp. Looking away from their reflections in the mirror, her eyes watched Seven’s profile. “What do you see?” She let go, starting behind Seven and back to the entry, where she leaned against the doorway, watching her, wondering how such beauty was once hidden beneath exoplating and greyed skin.
Seven stared at her reflection stoic.
What was she thinking? Anything at all? Or just making shallow analyzations?
“A human female approximately twenty-five years of age.”
‘That’s it?’ The Captain’s brow tensed. “A human female…” She put her hand on her chin in thought. “With sparkling cerulean eyes, a beautiful smile, radiant skin, golden hair…must I go on?”
Seven regarded her reflection then looked to Janeway. “Yes.”
‘I take back what I said about vanity.’ The Captain chuckled with a stretching grin. “I’m going to make a command decision not to.” She paused, glancing down. “Humans are not created equally…and…you are…very appealing to the eye.”
“Beautiful?”
The Captain answered with a gentle nod.
Seven turned back to the mirror. “I do not find this appearance appealing……I feel incomplete…weakened.”
The Captain regarded Seven intently, her expression growing stern. After all, the decision to separate Seven from the collective was hers. “Why?”
Seven looked to her hands, staying in silent thought for a long moment. “Exoplating makes a Borg’s body three times more resistant to damage.” Seven’s gaze drifted to her reflection. “As I am now, I am susceptible, and can be easily overcome.”
The Captain smiled. “Somehow I don’t think too many people will want to mess with you.”
Seven faced the Captain, silently waiting for her to continue.
“You’re forgetting something Seven.” Janeway pushed off the doorway and slowly approached the Ex-Borg. “You are still the strongest person on this ship, exoplating or not. You might even out class B’Elanna—Don’t tell her I told you that.”
“I do not intend to.”
“Good. I’d rather not start a war between you two.” The Captain turned around, pacing gently in thought, her arms across her chest. “In theory, I’ve made a terrible tactical decision.”
“Explain.”
“Well...” Janeway turned to Seven, once more taking her place against the doorway. “I’ve brought someone aboard my ship who could snap my neck and crush my bones in seconds.” The Captain looked deep into Seven’s eyes. “Someone, for who Voyager is nothing but a child’s toy. Your Borg algorithms could easily turn Voyager against us.”
“You doubt the formidability of your ship. I assure you a task of that magnitude is a challenge for me as well.”
“So you’ve thought about it.” The Captain smirked, as did Seven.
“I have no wish to “snap your neck” Captain. I respect you.”
Janeway looked down, her smirk turning into a smile. “So the day I lose your respect, is the day of my demise, huh?” She murmured.
“Captain?”
Janeway approached Seven again, tenderly taking Seven by the arm and turning her to the mirror. “You are special Seven. No one like you exists.” They both stared at the reflection. “You see things we can’t. Hear things we can’t. And will no doubt live long after we’re gone.” Janeway looked over, still finding herself a bit mesmerized to be so close to a woman like Seven, the perfect unity of power and beauty.
It dumbfounded her to think that Seven couldn’t see every ounce of her true potential, and of the value she added to Voyager.
Seven looked to the hand on her arm. “But I am still human.” She said with uncertainty, and Janeway heard the question in her voice.
“Yes.” Janeway gave Seven’s arm a squeeze and let go. “It’ll take time for you to get used to your new appearance. But this is who you are.”
Seven studied herself in the mirror. “Beautiful.”
“…Yes.”
“Do you find this appealing Captain?” Seven turned from the mirror with a renewed sense of confidence and looked right into Janeway’s eyes.
‘Uh…’ The Captain’s mouth hung open, her eyes shifting about the striking woman. “O-Of course…” ‘No point in lying. I’m sure she won’t take it any other way than being friendly.’
Seven reached to her back, starting to pull down the zipper of her biosuit.
With wide eyes Janeway grabbed the woman’s wrists, only to realize as her burst of adrenaline calmed, that she stood chest to chest with the Ex-Borg, her arms around Seven’s neck.
“Captain?” Seven raised the implant over her eye.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing you more, is that not what people wish when something appeals to them?”
Brow raised and forehead creased, Kathryn had no idea what kind of look was on her face. Feeling cool air enter her mouth she steeled her jaw and let Seven go. “Well…” She played off her discomfort with a dry chuckle. “The Captain’s eyes can’t handle it.” She met the woman’s oblivious gaze with a crooked grin and backed away.
“Handle what? My body?”
‘What hole have I dug myself into?’ Janeway turned her back to the Ex-Borg and took a few steps towards the door. “Exactly...”
“You are also a human female with the same body parts as I.”
“I am…but…” She turned to Seven. “Humans value privacy Seven. Revealing what’s under your clothes is a very…intimate gesture, reserved for…someone you love, someone you find appealing.”
“How do I know if I find them appealing?”
“Oh I don’t know…” The Captain trailed off, leaning against the doorway, a little stiffer this time. “Do you like the look of their face? The sound of their voice? The color of their eyes? Their mannerisms?”
“Mannerisms?”
“The way they walk. Talk.” She paused. “Their personality.”
Seven’s eyes sized her unabashedly, and the Captain clenched her jaw at the woman’s long bout of silence. “I like all that about you. So that means I find you appealing, right Captain?”
Frozen, Janeway hoped Seven couldn’t see her inner conflict as she stared at the Ex-Borg blank-faced with eyes wider than before, her heart in her throat. She hadn’t been this shocked since…...She couldn’t even remember.
“Is something wrong?”
The Captain cleared her throat. “Give yourself time to think about that…”
“Why?”
“Just to be sure you’re understanding everything I’m telling you.” The Captain looked down. “There’s still a lot for you to learn about people and interpersonal relationships.”
“There is no lapse in my understanding.”
Another moment of silence passed before the Captain looked straight into the Ex-Borg’s eyes, trying not to acknowledge the shudder that ran down her back, and how standing with the woman in her bathroom suddenly became very awkward. “Then I’m flattered.” She pushed off the door, their silent lingering only seeming to bother her and not the woman watching her. “…It’s getting late…” She turned, walking through the common area feeling the Ex-Borg’s presence in tow. “How long did the Doctor say you should regenerate?”
“At least four hours a day, to ensure my implants are functioning properly.”
“I’m sure this is all a shock to your body.” She wanted to bite her tongue at the sudden awkwardness the word “body” brought.
“Correct. I have been bombarded with many…interesting sensations. Nothing I would have experienced as Borg.”
The Captain stopped by the main door and turned to Seven with a gentle smile, hoping to hint an end to their conversation. “Did I answer your question?”
Seven stayed quiet a moment, probably processing the sudden change in topic. Sensations were the last thing they needed to talk about.
“You did.”
“Well then…I’d hate to push you out, but I need a little more than four hours of sleep.”
Seven clasped her hands behind her back and stood tall with a lift of her chin. “You do look…worn.”
‘Thanks.’ The Captain chuckled. “Here’s to life without nanoprobes.” Holding her warm smile she put her finger on the door sensor, the door obediently sliding back, revealing an empty hall beyond. “Goodnight Seven.”
They watched each other, as though both hesitated to make the first move.
“…Same to you Captain.” Seven nodded before she strode out and disappeared around a corner.
Kathryn sighed relief, moving further into her room as the door closed behind her. There was a lot of personality in that Ex-Borg. She just hoped she could handle it, and hoped Seven could find her place on Voyager.
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A.N: To be honest, I'm not sure why I keep writing these long, deep conversations between Seven and Janeway. Something about these "Fireside Chats" intrigues me. Thanks for reading :)
Songs: Vivaldi: Concerto No.6 in A minor for Violin, Strings and Continuo RV365, Allegro and Largo