WONDERS OF THE HOUSE PRESBA Book 3: Encounters by Katrina and Llachlan Contact: the authors can be reached at bearblue1@yahoo.com or llachness[at]gmail.com Book 1: Modifications Book 2: Transitions Book 3: Encounters Book 4: Reflections Book 5: Parabola Appendix TV Series: Voyager (with DS9 and ST:TNG Crossover) Summary: The threat of danger hangs over two Universes. Universe Alpha is dealing with fragile governments and the Dominion War. There is another hazard waiting in the wings. Universe Beta has threats guaranteed to come from both the Delta and the Gamma quadrant, but do they have time to prepare? Voyager and her crew have obligations in both Universes and choices to make. It's a balancing act that is going to get more interesting as it goes along... Code: Slash Multiple. F/F/F... M/M. Alt/Het (7/J, T/J, 7/T etc.) Rating: R (alternative situations) Disclaimers: Thankyous and Disclaimers
There was a crowd gathering at one of the display bays of Terok Nor. Kira Nerys had the bay created because of the number of visitors that flocked to her station to see the Wormhole in Bajoran space open and close. It was, she admitted to herself, an awe-inspiring sight. In the darkness, space would glow, then, like an aperture spinning, a hole would literally open in the wide expanse. There were mysteries inside that wormhole. They knew that it was a gateway to another quadrant. But anyone who tried to pass would get spit out by the spatial event, usually the worse for wear. According to her doppelganger, her other self from another Universe, the reason for this was that there were Prophets, living beings of light within the wormhole. In that Universe, the Prophets had spoken to the people of Bajor. In this Universe, they had remained silent and unknown. Intendant Kira sat regally upon her chair on the special dais reserved for her in the bay and watched with the crowd. She'd made no special speech or other announcement. She had slaves to do that. No, she just sometimes liked to watch and remember that there were things greater than her for a few seconds. Despite what people thought, she was not a narcissist. She was a hedonist. There was a difference. Nerys knew she was attractive and enjoyed her body, but she wasn't so in love with herself that she could not see others. She did see them. It just made a difference to Nerys as to whether they would help her accomplish her goals or not. Her goals were simple, pleasure and power. It irked her when people got in the way of her goals. That's when problems started... for them. Not that she'd felt very hedonistic lately. There were troubles on her mind. It wasn't the fiscal issues. Truthfully, she had enough cash to last lifetimes. Nor was it that she'd had to sever most of her connections with the Orion Syndicate. The Syndicate had been getting a bit more demanding of late anyway, and not just for cuts in profits. They'd wanted favors from her about Bajor and that, frankly, she'd not been ready to give. She'd been about to do something about it, but had not arrived at a decision on how to send her message. Dealing with the Syndicate could be a tricky business and one had to use finesse. Bajor, however, was her home. She did have some loyalties. So there was no question that she would have done something effective. But that problem had been set aside for the moment, thanks to the relatives of the "Bane of her Existence," General Torres. General Torres and she had been butting heads for months now. It wasn't that Nerys wasn't loyal to the Empire. She was. She might not be out there fighting battles with the Hive, but she did think she was doing a respectable job as Intendant. After all, things were thriving in her sector. True, she'd had to use methods that were a little unsavory. But she couldn't name a single Intendant anywhere else that also did not have those contacts or methods. At least her people were not rioting in the streets like they were in Cardassian. And true, it did come back to the fact that Nerys liked power. But she didn't necessarily want to run an empire. Frankly, she didn't know what Torres wanted from her. Maybe they thought she did want to do something more, but how would she accomplish it? Nerys didn't exactly have a fleet of ships. One or two pirates, yes, but nothing serious. And yet, here she was, feeling suddenly precarious in her position. She assumed that Miral of the House Presba was there to do something about the notorious Kira Nerys. Her spies had not yet worked out much of what that might be. She did know that Miral and her staff had been doing a staggering amount of research about her important self. It was kind of flattering in a way. Frightening in another, since she did not know what the intentions were. She wished that the wormhole held the answers. Or the Prophets or whatever. But she doubted it. ==^== In that same crowd were several of Voyager's crew. While the crew anticipated returning to their Universe, it was still decided by the Captain that they could benefit from shore leave. The rotation followed its usual schedule, with the rules specifically laid out. It was a case of survival. They were to treat this Universe as a foreign culture, which meant following the Prime Directive while on Terok Nor and Bajor. They would respect the rules of the culture, whether they agreed with them or not. They would wear their uniforms or the mark of the House Presba while on the station or the planet. They were to travel in pairs at the very least and more if they did not mind the companionship. There was a chance that there would also be impostors of the now famed crew, seeking to gain a bit of fortune. If so, they were to contact station security and let them handle the matter. Otherwise, the crew was to enjoy themselves and uphold the Honor of the ship and fleet. For most crew that should be easy enough. Tom, Harry and Steve were part of the crowd that watched the expansion of the wormhole. It was a beautiful sight and they gawked for a bit, though they'd all seen the event before. The difference lay in the display and the freedom of time to appreciate it and the company. Tom leaned on one of the guard rail bars designed to keep the tourists from falling catastrophically onto the hard surfaces below. There were several decks to a station and some of them were open to view from this particular spot. "You know, the more I see, the more I appreciate some of the changes in Voyager," the navigator said. "They could use more plants around here." "Well, I wouldn't call us spoiled, given all the stuff we've been through, but I have to say it is a nice change." Harry smiled back. He gripped the rails with his hands and looked up. "That's really quite the view." They watched as sparks of lights suddenly flashed in front of the wormhole. "Well," said an anonymous companion, "there they go." "Who?" "Oh, the fools. They try and make the run through the wormhole and it never works." "They do?" "It's become somewhat of a competition. There's a substantial reward for the first person or people to succeed." "Interesting," said Steve. They watched as the tiny dots flashed into the spatial event. "In a few minutes they'll be right back out." The Bajoran pointed at another faint glimmer in space, "Look, the tugboats are already out there, circling, like Yaka waiting for their meal to die." "That's a lovely image." "Well, it might be an exaggeration, but still..." The Bajoran shrugged and watched the wormhole with some intensity. Steve said, "I take it you know someone out there?" "My son. He and his friends decided to make a try for it this time. I could have said no, but they would have done it anyway. So I bought them a good ship, one I hope won't be too damaged when it comes back out." "Understandable." The Bajoran turned and looked at Steve, Harry and Tom. "You're those Voyager people." "We are." "You were at the Battle of Pharaoh System." "Yes." "Well, you've caused a lot of trouble you know." Steve turned to look at the Bajoran. The woman was tall, buxom, sandy-haired, and handsome in a square-faced kind of way. "Really. What kind of trouble?" "Interruption of supply lines. Manufacturing delays. That kind of thing." Steve asked, "Are you telling me that the Syndicate is the only supplier of goods?" "Well, of course not. But they were consistent. They had agreements, you see, with other races. Now our transports have to deal with nuisances and pirates." "But you had to deal with them before." "But the Syndicate provided protection..." "That's interesting. So, you're having more piracy now?" "No. It's the same amount, maybe a little less. But you're missing the point." "You're saying you don't have security forces." "Ah. You do understand. But, of course, that is not all." "What about the Klingons?" "What about them? The first sign of battle and they're off and blazing into the firefight. They don't watch over our goods. They could care less." "You could still do better than the Orion Syndicate." "I'd like to know how..." The Bajoran turned. "Oh, here they come." There was a flash from the center of the wormhole and several objects, apparently on fire or shedding their plates, were popping out. The tugboats started moving forward. The Bajoran squinted and paled. "Please excuse me. I have things I need to do." "Of course. It was illuminating to speak with you." The three men watched for awhile longer and Tom finally spoke. "You know, I wonder if Captain Janeway would let us try." "You do see that they're gathering those ships up in bits and pieces don't you?" Harry asked. "Yes, but none of those ships are Voyager," Tom replied with a confident smile. ==^== Dr. Pulaski stared open mouthed at the two women in front of her. Lwaxana Troi had just uttered something improbable and Seven of Nine was, apparently, waiting patiently for an answer. The Chief Medical Officer gathered her wits and got immediately stubborn. Sometimes answers were best given simply. "No." "Disappointing," said Seven of Nine so evenly that Kate double checked to make sure the woman's ears weren't pointed. Lwaxana shook her head, "But not unexpected. Kate, you're going to wear yourself ragged with denial. Besides we haven't completed what we are here to say yet. Hear us out first, and then decide." "I don't need to hear anything out. I am..." "...delightfully stubborn. But surely you'd like to visit the station and scope out the differences, just a little bit. Seven and I were going to go down this evening and thought we might invite you along." "But it's a date." "There are many kinds of dates, Doctor. If you prefer to keep this a mere social experience, then by all means. But don't lock yourself away in this office like a monk. You of all people..." "You're just asking me if I want to go to the station." "Yes." "No hanky panky." "Unless you change your mind." "Give me a half an hour to think about it." Lwaxana smiled warmly. "Of course." Then she turned to the statuesque blonde. "Seven darling, you were going to show me ... what did you call it... Ah, Astrometrics." Seven of Nine smiled in return, then turned to the shorter blonde and said, "I look forward to spending more time with you." "I haven't said I'm going." "On the other hand, it would be illogical not to go now that the opportunity presents itself to you." Dr. Pulaski didn't really have anything useful to say to that. "Look, scram and let me think." Lwaxana grasped Seven of Nine's arm. "Let's go before she becomes obstinate." ==^== General Belle Torres beamed over to Voyager at ten hundred hours. It was a deliberate choice of time, as it was a full two hours before lunch, and she had already been promised a good meal to go with the meeting. She was meeting Captain Kathryn Janeway and her 'sister', the Chief Engineer, and Epatai of House Presba, B'Elanna Torres to discuss some new information she'd received from the Chancellor. Plus, she had a few serious questions she needed to ask them. They met in the conference room. Kathryn and B'Elanna were already there, standing and conversing. Kathryn had a mug of something aromatic in her hand and B'Elanna had a PADD, which they seemed to be reviewing. Belle had half expected them to be wildly kissing, but apparently, they did know how to separate professional life from personal. Even with the explanations Voyager had offered, she had been wondering. They turned and smiled at her in welcome as she entered and offered her a seat. Then they sat down, with the Captain at the head of the table and B'Elanna across from her. There were some pleasantries spoken and then they got down to business. "The reason I am here is that you made several claims during a certain broadcast," she paused long enough to see their reactions. Neither woman so much as twitched. They could have argued that they had not gone in with the expectations of being seen. But it didn't change facts. There were claims made. "... and my Universe must now deal with the consequences. Of course, the Orion Syndicate is up in arms. It would not surprise you to know that they have, through various means, tried to protest. They have no official standing; however, so all protests are based on whatever previous understandings might have been made. So the question I must ask you, Were you telling the truth?" The captain spoke without hesitation. "It's worse than was said. For you anyway. In our Universe, we've already encountered the hazards we spoke of in one way or another, but not all at approximately the same time or strength. But here?" She shook her head grimly. "So, Yes. Everything we said was true, if shaded to cover certain facts." The Klingon General nodded thoughtfully. "I thought as much. Now, please, tell me the specifics." "We can do better. We can show you, since we have the data from the Lucky Dragon. But let me give you a bit of background first. You see we had three reasons for coming here, General. The first was personal. We wanted our family back. The second was to warn you. The third was to cripple the Syndicate enough to slow them down so they couldn't cause more damage in this Universe or in ours. In Universe Alpha, if you'll forgive the designation..." The General nodded and waved for the captain to continue, "... the Alpha and Beta Quadrants are already at war with the Dominion. The Orion Syndicate, which usually takes no side, was suddenly gunning after fleet ships." "You can say it, you know," gruffed the General. "The Federation is dead here, but it was also different. Continue." "Fine, yes, they were gunning after Federation Starfleet ships. Apparently the Syndicate was taken over by the Cardassians, who had aligned themselves with the Dominion, a Gamma Quadrant species, the Changelings. That species was, and is, so paranoid, that they conquered their quadrant so they could guarantee there was only one supreme species. They are intent on doing the same with the rest of the galaxy." The General nodded. She had heard some of this before, from General Martok. But she smiled grimly. "They've never encountered the Hive then." "Neither have we. At this point, we feel some urgency to get back home, because we suspect that the Hive does exist, it just..." "...hasn't found your worlds yet." The Klingon grimaced in sympathy. "Precisely. And our Universe needs warning too. I'd be interested in exchanging information, if possible. But that said, given the types of beings that the Changelings are, I'm not sure the Hive - at least based on the little we know about them at this point - would find them of interest." "So, this Starfleet, it empowered you to act against the Orion Syndicate, specifically." "Yes. Now, mind you, we really have been stuck in the Delta Quadrant. And we had no guarantee that we would ever see the Syndicate again. I don't doubt that Starfleet would...hmm... appoint others to the same task within the Alpha Quadrant, at least. Only, there is a personnel crisis." "Due to the war." "Which everyone is losing: The Federation, the Klingon Empire, and the Romulan Empire. The Changelings, with their Jem'Hadar, which they genetically enhanced especially for conquering worlds, are causing havoc. "And the Orion Syndicate has aligned with the Cardassians of your Universe, which was aligned with the Gamma Quadrant Changelings." "Yes. And they are also here, in this Universe. How that happened isn't very clear, but the evidence indicates that the two Syndicates somehow arrived at an agreement." "I guess what I need to know is whether the whole of the Syndicate in this Universe is involved, or whether... it's an issue of cartels." "Well, the Pharaoh Cartel was definitely part of it. We have the data to prove it and they were also the ones most involved in the capture of our mates and parents." "Which you most admirably punished," the General smiled toothily. Janeway didn't quite smile back, but she did tilt her head in acknowledgment. "We also have some data implicating certain other cartels, but the Pharaoh Cartel in this Universe was key. And, given how fast they all broke afterwards, it would be a bit of a chore to find the other cartels at this point. Hopefully, they will have taken the warning for what it was." "That was a warning?" "Yes." "I like the way you think, Captain Janeway." "On the other hand, it'll be more work to figure out who was doing what in our Universe, but we believe that the parallels may be enough to lead us where we need to go. We also have names and places that need addressing in Universe Beta and Alpha, just to make sure the nail is well and truly in the coffin. On the other hand, we are only interested in those who specifically attacked our House and in those who are specifically contributing to the war. If there are other cartels that could prove their," Janeway coughed a little. "...innocence, then we have no quarrel or interest with them. Though we would also highly suggest that it would be time for them to come out clearly on the side of the Empire, so to speak. We're not the police, after all." The General chuckled. "Well, I will need to speak with certain persons about possibly making that known. Not too soon, mind. It's healthy for the Syndicate to be up in arms at the moment. They had forgotten who was the power in these Quadrants. They live by our sufferance, not the other way around. Which brings me to this." She leaned forward and gazed very seriously at the two other women, "Depending upon what I learn via the data you provide, I have been empowered to officially give you, and the Epatai, Warlord status. This will give you similar rights and responsibilities that your Starfleet has placed upon you, but allow you to function outside of the usual military parameters. Thus, say, if you need to return to the Delta Quadrant or disappear for mysterious reasons, you will be covered. Or, say, if you decide you need to go cartel crushing again, you may do so with the full backing of the Empire. In fact, with these powers, you may assemble your own fleet, as long as they swear allegiance to the House and the Empire. You will need to establish an official chain of command with trustworthy persons. I will be in that chain of command, of course, also as Warlord." "You want us to leave some of our people here." "I am only one person in this Universe. Yours is a much larger House. And you have people who are loyal to the House Presba - a very important trait in a House fleet. Yes. I want some of our people here." "General, that's..." Kathryn tried to gather her thoughts quickly, given how they'd suddenly become scrambled. "How can the Chancellor even think of trusting us with this?" "Are you saying you are untrustworthy?" "No. But General, we're a foreign entity. We hail from a completely different Universe." "You are House Presba and we know the House; My House. Do you plan on taking over the Empire?" "No. Of course not." "Then there is no conflict, since neither do I. It would be too much work. But I do want to protect the Empire. And now that I have a House, I want to make sure it stays and prospers. In this Universe and yours." Janeway was just plain outright shocked and could not think of anything to say. B'Elanna was now gaping at the General, who continued speaking as if she hadn't just dropped a bombshell on them. "Think on it anyway. The Chancellor is prepared to fully support your endeavors, as he has long felt that the Orion Syndicate has had too much power as a whole. He also agrees that failing to remain neutral and choosing an opponent who was against the Empire, even one in another Universe, is an act of War and a threat to his supreme authority to make such decisions. He is also very upset at the implications of the Borg and the Hirogen." "And he should be," said B'Elanna. "The Hirogen are a predator species and the Borg are empire builders. It's a bad combination to have to face no matter how one slices it." "Which brings us to this; I need to see the data." "Would you mind very much if I brought Lieutenant Ro into this conversation?" Janeway asked. "She was a primary investigator during our information digging." "Send for her." A few minutes later the Bajoran joined them in the conference room. Again pleasantries were exchanged and then the Lieutenant was caught up on the discussion. She said, at one point, "Of course, the raw data will be made available to you. Also, the prisoners have not yet been turned over to the authorities. Nor have they been interrogated. Apparently certain persons don't want the trouble it might cause." The General growled at that, but said nothing. Yet. Then, with permission from the Captain, Laren ran the presentation that Seven of Nine had prepared. In a few moments stored feed began playing of an encounter that sent a chill through Belle's soul. Then the information got worse. And worse. Until about an hour later, General Torres was in a frothing rage and had to be held back from going to Cargo Bay 2 where the miscreants were stored for trial. "Your people must see this, General. They must see these people brought to justice, even if they receive the death penalty. If your people don't see the evidence and its results, they won't believe it." B'Elanna said as she held the raging, grieving woman tight. "But now you know why. Now you know why we had to come. And you know the truth." Belle began to swear, cussing a long angry streak into the air like a baneful rainbow of profanity until she ran out. By then she had calmed down a bit and B'Elanna released her grip. "We would have come anyway," B'Elanna said, clasping her sister's shoulder. "It just makes it easier that members of our family were here already to give us a reason." "I know," Belle said gruffly. "You have Honor. I would have done the same." There were solemn nods. The General then said, very grimly. "I have people who need to see this. Keep the originals, since they are safer on this ship, but give me copies of everything. Make two. The Chancellor will need to see this. Also, make sure that Mother, Miral, is given access to all the data. She is still on the Empire's payroll and, as she has to judge other members of the Orion Syndicate, she might as well add this to her docket. "Speaking of which, I've been dying to ask. How did that all start?" B'Elanna asked. "I mean, she's a judge in our Universe, yes, but why did they let her..." "There was no way to prove that she wasn't. This is why we sent people to watch her. It very quickly became obvious she was telling the truth." "That's... so Klingon." "Yes." ==^== Miral took the PADD Effany was handing her and addressed T'Pel. "Now, as we have time on our hands T'Sai most graciously conducted independent research on one Kira Nerys via the inter-quadrant network. It makes for very interesting reading. As we already knew she is an effective Intendant. Bajor and this sector have been at rest longer under her reign than at any other time under other Intendants. They have had regular elections, free media and their transportation systems run on time. "Also of note, piracy in neighboring sectors was rampant... until that little battle in Pharaoh System. Bajor was only rarely hit and often merely symbolically -- if you understand my meaning. This does point to unfortunate ties, for the Intendant. And we will need to find out from our House researchers how deeply the Orion Syndicate was involved with the Pharaoh portion of their Syndicate and how far that reaches into Bajoran pockets. Since T'Sai did the majority of the research, I felt it would be wise to hear her conclusions." Effany began handing around the other PADDs. T'Sai bowed slightly in Miral's direction. "If you will look at file number one ...." ==^== Part 2 | Bookmarks The Klingon ship Orantho arrived at Presba's surprisingly busy space port with little fanfare. On the other hand, the exit of Sirella of the House Martok from the ship had plenty of flourish, as her guards marched smartly before her and her servants marched smartly behind her. Fortunately for Asil, Worf had sent a quick warning about the approximate time to expect the Mistress of House Martok. House Presba was therefore ready. Asil, Phoebe Janeway and Deanna Troi were there to personally greet the formidable Klingon woman. Sirella was tall and dignified. She had brown hair, dark eyes and proud ridges upon her forehead. She wore an ornately designed dress that emphasized her curves and her heritage. She was a woman of noble birth, Mistress of a Great House, and wanted everyone to know it just by looking at her. Her method was effective. Asil greeted the Klingon woman with the Vulcan salute, then said, "Greetings, Sirella of the House Martok. We welcome you to Presba." "Greetings, Asil of the House Presba. I have heard many interesting things about Presba." "All good," I hope, interjected Phoebe. Sirella's attention turned to the Human. "It depends on who was doing the telling." "Gossip does not matter. We will be successful." Sirella's attention returned to Asil. "That is a very Klingon attitude." "It is logical." "Hmm. Well. I am not here to stand around. You have made arrangements for my stay, have you not?" "Yes, Sirella of the House Martok. It will depend upon your preference. You may have the Ambassadorial suite at the Resort or, if you prefer, you may stay at our modest abode." "I believe I will see what your Resort has to offer." "As you wish." ==^== The suite was impressively well appointed for planet that was at the backend of the Empire. Sirella wondered how much money they were spilling into the place. Then, as she strolled through the busy concourse that wound its way through the Resort and passed by the active little stores and eateries, she wondered how much money they were actually raking in. As if she read Sirella's mind, Asil explained, "There is a professional development convention. Several industries are represented in one of the pavilions. I am sure they wouldn't mind a member of the Great House visiting. I understand Arconaea Industries has a booth." It was a subtle hint that Asil had studied their important guest. Sirella had some investment in the Andorian Company. "Why are they meeting here, rather than in the Alpha Quadrant?" "The businesses attending this convention are all from the Beta Quadrant. The booths are being run by representatives of the companies that also happen to have ties in the Empire. They have been hit hard by the border closing, but not as hard as might be assumed. And there are other incentives." "Incentives?" "You would need to talk to our Ferengi representative to find out more." "You have Ferengi ties?" "You have perhaps heard of Quark?" Sirella growled lightly in disapproval and then was surprised by receiving a growl in return. Vulcans didn't growl. Asil turned to look directly at the Klingon. "Do not make the mistake of thinking you know what we are, because we are not shaped like you, Sirella. We are House Presba." Was that... was that a flash of danger in the Vulcan's eyes? Surely not. Deanna Troi took up the thread and said, peaceably enough, "We have found Quark to be a very efficient manager of our finances while T'Pel is away. Of course, we check his work, but we also make sure that the payment is high enough to keep him honest." "T'Pel. She is... one of the mates of the Epatai." There was that soft sound of disapproval in Sirella's voice again. "They are bonded in the Zakeeri manner. Zakeeri are mated in multiple-partner units. The more partners, the more status. It was a necessary choice and there were circumstances that led to the bonding," Deanna confirmed "I find that difficult to believe." "You may believe or disbelieve as you wish," Asil commented evenly. "Never-the-less, it is a true. Moreover, it is a Blood-bond." If Sirella were less of a noble she would have rolled her eyes. If anything her disapproval of the whole situation skyrocketed. Everyone knew that there could only be two in a mated bond. She personally discounted those who had concubines. They obviously did not have a true bond, like she did. But she couldn't deny that this was a Vulcan making the statement. They were notorious for their honesty. If nothing else, Asil believed what she was saying. Sirella decided to be politic. "I will see this for myself someday and then I will know." She looked around and realized that the scenery had changed. "Where are you taking me?" Phoebe smiled, "We thought you might want to see the amphitheater. Vrald is still tweaking it, but we believe it will be ready for opening this week." "Vrald? Vrald is here?" "He's is one of the designers of the Colony." 'Well, didn't that just explain things,' thought the Klingon. She'd been fighting to hate the Resort and failing. Now she understood why she found it so appealing instead. She narrowed her gaze at the Betazoid who had turned briefly to give her a speculative smile. "And how did you procure his services? He is..." "Oh, he stopped by one day and just stayed," Phoebe said as she waved her hand airily. "He's a design freak, you know and this place was a challenge he couldn't pass by. Especially since we've got a healthy artist population going." Sirella was becoming intrigued in spite of herself. "You are Phoebe Janeway, correct?" "That would be me." "Your Painting of Kargas and the Trellian Python was... acceptable." Phoebe's lips twitched, but she didn't turn around. "I'm glad you liked it," she said pleasantly. "Worf was in such a hurry to grab the paintings I didn't have as much time with it as the painting might have needed." The corridor was starting to darken. It was now lit by holographic torches, which flickered shadows and light through the darkening passageway. There were rich velvet tapestries, emphasized by red, black and gold along the stonewall. The tapestries had heroic scenes, not just of Klingons, but of Humans, Vulcans, Bajorans... and Betazoids? She stopped at that one. "What is this?" Deanna looked at it, "Ah. That is my ancestor, Luas Troi. There is not much fighting that happens on Betazed, but back in the past, when it did, it was often to the death. Here she battles a member of another house who accused her of stealing one of the great treasures and would not stop, even after it was proved that the House Troi had come by it honestly. Ben Naya attacked Luas with a blade, only to have it turned back on himself in the end. Vrald liked the story. So he had the Tapestry made. Most of these tapestries represent historic battles of the ancestors. When Miral gets back he plans on quizzing her for more." "Interesting." "I admit, we surprised ourselves by looking back. I have not been in the habit of investigating my ancestors. It is something that I probably ought to do more often." ==^== The Amphitheater was spacious. A person could stand anywhere on the stage and be heard clearly, without a microphone, at the top of the stadium. A rehearsal was in progress and the women, as well as Sirella's assistant, stopped to watch. The actors below were working out some sort of battle, choreographing swordplay and dialog. Fortunately, sound did not travel down. Phoebe leaned over to Sirella, "I think it's going to work this time. They're going to be using holographic blood for the main part of the battle. They'd played around with a liquid substitute for authenticity yesterday, but everyone kept slipping." "Who are the investors?" "Right now it's us. House Presba, I mean. But we hope to get more as the theater's popularity grows. We've invited a lot of people for the opening, but, you know... we're a new house, so it might take awhile for it to catch. That's all right. One of the side benefits of having a lot of artists around is that we always have a willing audience." "Hmm. How many plays do you have scheduled?" "Well, right now we have four, but in between that we have several concerts and a few other theatrical events scheduled." "Is it enough for a full season?" "Uhm... perhaps. I suppose we could find a way to buffer it. But I would have to... "Have your man talk to my assistant about broadcast rights on Qo'nos. You will of course be filming it, correct?" Phoebe's expression said, 'we will be now.' Her mouth said, "Of course." ==^== Dinner was well on its way to becoming an almost formal party by the time the women arrived at the Presba Estate. Sirella made no comment about the size or the look of the abode. She walked in as if she owned the place and was promptly greeted by someone she knew. "Sirella! What a surprise to see you here!" The woman with the tallest hat in the hallway said with a big smile. "Let me look at you!" "Guinan?" The Klingon blinked in surprise and her expression changed from one of superiority to wonder. "Is that you?" "Oh my dear! You look gorgeous and I've missed you." The El-Aurian took one of Sirella's arms in her own and gently guided her further into the domicile. "Now tell me all about you. I haven't seen you since you were, what... fifteen? I understand you snagged Chancellor Martok. I tell you, I was so proud. I want to hear it all. It must be quite the story." Asil, Deanna and Phoebe were left in the doorway looking at each other in astonishment. Vrald, who had also watched this with some amusement, excused himself from the person he was talking with and approached Phoebe. "It would do me honor, if you would walk with me." The woman looked up at him and tried to keep the want out of her gaze. Phoebe didn't quite succeed. But she managed courtesy and took his arm. "Of course. I need to talk to you about something anyway." Deanna watched them both with concern and said to Asil in Presba tongue, "I give them a month before one of them breaks." "You forget Janeway stubbornness. It will be at least three." ==^== In the Alpha Quadrant things were heating up on several fronts. The Dominion started building up for another attack from the Cardassian sector. No one knew exactly how they were getting ships and people to Cardassia, but some suspected that they had begun locally cloning the Breen. The ships were being built somewhere just past the The Romulans were plainly unhappy with the current rift between the Klingons and the Federation. There were rumbles in the Senate of a calling off of relations, since the whole reason for forming the alliance was to create a unified front. What was really happening was that the Romulans were unhappy with Section 31, which had tried to infiltrate the Tal Shiar. They didn't exactly hold this against the Federation, since they too had an underground government, but it did point to political troubles because it seemed that the Federation did not control theirs very well. The Federation did not know this, however, since the Tal Shiar simply disappeared the offending parties. Section 31 on the other hand took a hard hit with the loss. Federation Headquarters was also experiencing strife and not just due to the severing of ties. Some of the members were beginning to doubt whether the Federation could protect them. After all, they'd already lost several planets to the Dominion. Cooler heads were prevailing, but it was definitely tense. Plus, there were other concerns, the same economic and social ones that never went away simply because there was a war. Starfleet was a veritable haven of serenity in comparison. This was probably because they had one sole mission at the moment. Protect. The only problem was, there were fewer and fewer of them to do the job. And the candidates were getting younger and younger. It was the kind of thing that could give an Admiral nightmares. ==^== Inevitably, Lwaxana and Seven returned to sickbay. There they found Kate Pulaski waiting for them, leaning against her desk with her arms folded. She didn't even have to look at the chronometer to know that they were exactly one half hour in returning. Seven of Nine had an internal clock. When they arrived she said, "I have a few rules." Lwaxana said, with amusement, "Oh really?" Seven of Nine cocked her ocular implant. "Yes. First, only one or two of you at a time during any dating. I just...I can't wrap my head around what you all..." "Darling, we don't intend to overwhelm you." "But you do. She does. All of you do. And I reserve the right to say No, no matter how far into this we go." "Of course." "I also reserve the right to change my mind. I have often found that life is constantly challenging my assumptions about... people and things. I am willing to acknowledge that." "Well, then." Lwaxana gave Kate an affectionate look. "Come and let me show you some of the sights." She walked over and took one of shorter blonde's hands in hers, causing the defensive position to automatically unfold. "We'll have some company, of course. Our captain is a bit protective these days. Ensigns Booker and Simmons have been assigned to us." Kate chuckled as she allowed herself to be gently led. "She's going for the intimidation factor, I take it." "Of course. Kathryn watches out for all of us." ==^== Terok Nor was busier than ever. All sorts of species walked its corridors, including species from the Delta quadrant. Surprisingly most were not gawkers. It was a case of once you've seen a space port... But that didn't keep the experience from being interesting for the various members of Voyager's crew. Ylfians, Kazon and Kutwutchu walked along the corridors as if they'd always been there. They visited stores, bars, and other sites with the aplomb of galaxy travelers. The owners and managers received the visitors gladly, if a little awkwardly sometimes. Certainly some of the accommodations were more exotic than others, but most adapted. More shocking to them than the foreigners of the Delta Quadrant, however, was the confident presence of Humans who didn't bow, and Orions who held themselves equal to all. But as soon as they spotted the uniforms or the markings, there was no question as to their rights. Habits, however, are difficult to kick. When Lwaxana Troi and company arrived at the Golden Post restaurant, so named because of a brightly glittering post in the middle of a large circular room, there were several reactions. First, there was the caution and fear typically engendered by Truth Seekers, which meant some eyes-averted, very deep bows (if viewers happened to be standing). Second, there was caution and confusion about Seven of Nine, but at the same time awe. That meant there were stares, which Seven was used to, given her Borgness. She just stood, while they waited their short wait, with that normal, neutral stance of hers, which to some reeked of superiority. Others, reacting more primordially, just bowed. The stares then slid away to encounter the sardonic glance of Dr. Pulaski. It was a question of whether the observers' gaze slid away because of habit or because she was so obviously amused by their little power games. But inevitably, the gaze would return because she was dressed as one of the Heroes of the Battle of Pharaoh System. Then gazes would flow around to the security team, which most just naturally skimmed over, because anyone who had any rank at all had security teams. Even with their natural muscular bulk, Ensigns Booker and Simmons blended into the background. But at the same time, they also discouraged any unnecessary bad behavior. By the time the three women were settled into their plush seats around a large table, people had accommodated themselves to the new. Those that couldn't, made their exits. "Well, that was interesting," said Dr. Pulaski as she watched certain Bajorans throw glances their way as they made their exit. "They can't decide whether they are too afraid of you, Lwaxana, to glower properly, or whether they are too bigoted to care." Lwaxana took the proffered menu from the waiter with a dignified smile then said, as she opened it, "No one glowers like you, darling. They just know they can't compete." Kate chortled in amusement. Then when she recovered she said, "So, how does this work? Are we going Dutch or..." "Dear, you wouldn't be able to buy anything on this station anyway." "Because I'm human?" the doctor asked with some asperity. "No dear. Because you are famous. You were at Pharaoh System and everyone has seen your face on the news. Trust me, for all the people exiting, there are more dying to come over and talk to you." "Seriously?" Lwaxana nodded, "They're too afraid because I'm here." Seven of Nine reached over and took Lwaxana's hand and squeezed gently, then let her hand go. The Betazoid gave her a whimsical smile. "Of course you understand dear, you've been through it, haven't you." "Okay, new rule. If you're going to hold a conversation I can't understand..." "Sorry darling. I can't say it won't happen again, as I am a telepath. Now, what would you like to order?" ==^== The supply officers took advantage of the fact they were in a similar Universe to begin the process of acquiring certain materials that could be found only in the Alpha quadrant. They planned on making trades of "rare," goods from the Delta quadrant. Interestingly, while many things were similar, such as the very precious and no longer illegal Romulan Ale, there were certain things they couldn't find for trade. Either the items had never been discovered, made, or the inventor had never existed - or survived. But, if it was vegetable or mineral and the raw item existed, they placed an order for it - even if it boggled the trader's mind that the Voyagers would be interested in such a thing. But they didn't ask for explanations. "Why you want bitter berries I don't know, but fine, I'll bring you 350 plants, whole, in trade for..." There were also items that did not exist in Universe Alpha, but did exist in Beta. If an item looked like it might be useful, trade-worthy, or just interesting to someone on board, an order was placed. It spoke volumes about the differences in the Universes. While one couldn't necessarily find correlation or cause, once the problem was reported, the scientist and anthropologists on board Voyager suddenly realized they'd found treasure. They began making requisitions for data and historical records. Archivists were assigned to interview Miral, Lwaxana, Gretchen and T'Pel. T'Pel did not allow an interview, but she did write her observations down for those who were interested. The supply and procurement office found help via T'Pel and her assistant. T'Pel had made strong inroads into the economic side of things over the course several months. She even had minor businesses started, including a growing Farm in a Dunkarian system. Voyager's wealth and that of House Presba's expanded. ==^== There were academic tours for the children, first on Bajor and then on Terok Nor. The tours were to include sites of historical interests, museums and other fun places. Anyone under the age of 16 or its equivalent went. Of course, Naomi Wildman, and Mezoti, Azan and Rebi Hansen were part of the group. They had plenty of supervision; there were their Kutwutchu teachers, a security compliment and then a Marine Guard on top of that. All of the children old enough, and trained enough, went out wearing weapons and armor too. The miniaturized dk-tahg carried by some of the tinier Ylfians was enough to give certain Klingon warriors hysterics when they weren't in view of the Ylfians. Not that they underestimated their tiny friends. After all, they'd seen the grown Ylfians in battle, and the younger Ylfians carried themselves with absolute warrior confidence. So it was that other visitors to Bajor were treated to the unusual sight of a single, brave Bajoran Tour guide who was surrounded by a mob of armed, curious and surprisingly well behaved children and their equally impressive adult escorts. Not that the younglings didn't have fun. They most certainly did, especially once they reached the amusement parks, but they were also well trained and aware of the dangers around them. So they played, but alertly. Tiny Ylfians hitched rides on the roller coasters by tucking themselves into their Kutwutchu friend's shirts. Kutwutchu scrunched up their knees in the bumping bender vehicles and chased after their Borg and Katarian friends. The Borg and Katarian were spun around and around in the whirl-O-ride, with Naomi staggering out a bit greenly, and Mezoti declaring loudly that she did not see the point. The ever-watchful adults observed all of this with amusement. ==^== Captain Al'xandr entered the Golden Post. There was a young Bajoran woman on his arm, Leeta. She was a Dabo girl at Quark's, brunette and charming. He had procured the smiling woman's services for the evening. He didn't desire much, just someone pretty to talk to while he ate and relaxed before heading out again. As they were being escorted to their table he spotted Doctor Pulaski. "Excuse me, I must speak with someone. Please be seated." The young Captain made his way towards the table with confidence. He did see the Truth Seeker. He recognized her from the videos. But he also knew that she was of House Presba and those Truth Seekers were different, in a good way. This, however, didn't stop him from bending in courtesy upon arrival at the women's table. "Please forgive my intrusion, but I wished to extend my greetings to Doctor Pulaski." There was surprising warmth in the Truth Seeker's expression, "It's no intrusion, is it Kate?" "Of course not. How's the lung?" Al'xandr grinned widely. "Good as new. I breathe with ease." "Glad to hear it. They sending you back out yet?" "Ah, that is part of why I stopped by. My crew and I leave tomorrow. There has been sign of the Hive at one of our borders." By now Lwaxana was getting somewhat used to the surface visions that mention of the Hive produced. It still caused her to shiver. "You will be careful." He looked at her with some confusion. "I am Klingon." "That is not in question," Lwaxana said with a smile. "I know you are brave and true and capable. I just am hopeful of your return." He was taken aback. He bent forward, and saw real concern in her dark gaze. "I will do my best." She patted his hand, as if she had the right. "Good. I am glad. Quapla, Al'xandr. My prayers go with you." He said his farewells then and walked back, feeling strangely and oddly comforted. ==^== Part 3 | Bookmarks "You really don't have to do this," commented Kate. Seven evenly replied as they walked, "It is traditional. Besides, I enjoyed your company." Doctor Pulaski couldn't help the smile that tugged at her own lips. "Well," she admitted, "I enjoyed yours too. You're pretty smart for a blonde." Lwaxana laughed. These past days had been wonderful and she felt more relaxed than she had in ages. "That she is." "I fail to see what the color of hair has to do with intelligence. Although," Seven said gamely, "I do find you quite intelligent yourself." Doctor Pulaski tossed a glance back. They were almost to the door of her quarters and she stopped in amazement. "Are you telling me that no one has afflicted you with blonde jokes on this ship?" "Blonde jokes?" Seven of Nine's brow wrinkled. "Ah. A genre of jokes based on..." "Whoa. Stop. That's not how it works." Seven paused. "I understand. But I do find definitions helpful. Your human culture has at times been obscure to me." "You don't think of yourself as human?" Seven cocked her head. "I am aware that many would prefer that I did. And I acknowledge my birth heritage as valuable. I seek a greater understanding of humanity, my own included. I am natively human, but ... I am Borg. I will always be Borg." She raised her cybernetic hand as an example, and then dropped it as the point was made. "I was not raised as human, so cultural references will sometimes elude me." "You know, I knew an android once, who wanted only to be human." "Commander Data." "Yes." "I am not an android," Seven pointed out evenly. "His flaws are not mine." "I'll say," quipped Lwaxana affectionately. "Perhaps you ought to give Kate some definitive proof of your essential... humanity." Doctor Pulaski stalled like a deer in bright lights. "I... uh..." Seven of Nine reached out and gently touched Kate's shoulder. "There is no pressure. Lwaxana is teasing." Kate looked at Seven and saw the soft expression of concern. That was evidence enough for her. She patted the Borg's hand. "I know." Kate's expression turned to one of self-amusement. She was not normally so hesitant and she recognized that in herself. She almost deserved all the teasing that Lwaxana had been shooting her way. Kate, in certain circles, was not exactly known for timidity - in science or in sexuality. But... she felt conflicted. She looked more closely at the Borg. "I admit, I am... curious. Would you indulge me?" "As you wish." Seven of Nine leaned in and pressed her lips fearlessly against Kate Pulaski's. Then she deepened the delicate touch. The kiss was a tender surprise; soft, warm and wet. It was sweetly, slowly stimulating and neither too long nor too short. Kate was surprised at her reaction and when the kiss ended, she pulled back, partly unwillingly. "Oh my." She turned to look at Lwaxana. "Is it... is it always like that?" Lwaxana chuckled gently. "Oh, it gets better." Then, still amused, she drew Kate in for an embrace and a kiss of an equally passionate, yet delicate nature. By the time she was done, the good Doctor was feeling a bit wobbly at the knees. "Well, you've gotten better with time, Lwaxana." "I don't know if I should be offended or not. But I admit..." The Betazoid grinned wickedly, "...I've had so much practice recently." Kate groaned and then laughed. "All right. All right. Get out of here you two. I'm sorely tempted to invite you in, but really, I need a good night's sleep. And I need to think." "Sleep well, Kate," Lwaxana said as she and Seven touched their fingertips together. "We enjoyed spending time with you. We must do this again sometime." "Oh, I expect we will." Kate stepped through the door and made herself not look back. ==^== B'Elanna Torres kept busy. Vulcans might like to sit and ponder, but she liked to tinker and tweak as a meditation. She had a lot to think about and she thought better with tools in her hands. So, now she had a panel down and she was, with the delicate help of Voyager, making some fixes. Voyager had not gotten off scott-free in the battle, after all. Things had been moving so quickly lately, one thing after the other, from the multiple changes to Voyager to the changes in herself. Not that they were bad changes. They simple were differences of note, with some notes being much bigger than others. She hadn't really had a chance to talk with anyone, not even Kathryn, about the idea of being a Warlord. She didn't quite understand all of the implications and that niggled at her. Of course, she was still getting used to the idea of being Epatai and that had bothered her the same way for a while. It still did, some days. Warlord. Epatai. Chief Engineer. These were positions of authority that were thrust upon her. And somehow she had to measure up to the expectations. It all seemed a little much at the moment. Thus, she knew she had to simplify. B'Elanna repaired another fine connection and then moved onto the next and then the next. She had backed out of the console fully and had turned to grab the panel when she startled. "Seven!" The blonde smiled. "BangwI, I see you have been concentrating very hard again." B'Elanna sat back on her heels and was glad she hadn't yet picked up the plate. She took a moment to breathe, just breathe. "You could say that. Did you talk to Kathryn yet?" "I have only recently returned from our date with Kate. I wanted to see you." "How did it go?" "Well, I believe. She is unready, but curious." "Well, anyone would be curious." "Not species 2038. They are a very --" "Seven..." B'Elanna's mate relented. "I can not at this time predict what Kate will choose to do. I can only note that she kisses well." "Does she now? Did you learn something new?" "No. Not really, but I'll be happy to show you, if you'd like." B'Elanna grinned, knowing that Seven was quite capable of mimicking, due to her perfect memory. "Well, I think I'd like to save that for later. Why don't you demonstrate your method to me instead?" "Ah, now this is what I was hoping for." B'Elanna moved closer, and sat beside Seven. Then they leaned towards each other and indulged in a loving, passionate kiss. The Klingon sighed as she sat back against the wall again. "That was what I needed." "Tell me?" "Belle came by today, you know, for a meeting." "Laren did mention it." "Yes, well, what Laren didn't know is that Belle made the Captain and me an offer we probably can't refuse. Do you, by any chance, know what it means to be a Warlord for a Klingon?" Seven of Nine's head tilted in that way that let B'Elanna know that the Borg was checking her database. Then the blonde woman's eyebrow arched. "It will depend on whether Universe Alpha and Beta share similar definitions, but I do believe I have a general idea of what it means." "What do you think?" "I believe that you would make a good Warlord." The confidence in the statement caused B'Elanna to pause. "You think so?" "Yes." Seven's expression was warm and affectionate. "Consider, BangwI, that it is really a matter of scale. You are already Epatai. Being Warlord merely gives you the authority to take on a larger group." "We could build a fleet." "We have been building a fleet anyway. Or rather, Kathryn has. I take it Kathryn was also made this offer." "Yes. We could claim whole systems, just for House Presba." "And this is different from colonizing Voyager's Rest in what manner?" B'Elanna blinked. "It's the principle of the thing." "I see. Then you are planning on saying, 'No.' Should Voyager prepare for conflict?" "I... No. Of course not." "Never the less, I would support you, should that be your decision." Seven gazed intently at her mate and then asked, "B'Elanna, are you worried that you might not be able to fulfill this duty?" The Borg took one of B'Elanna's hands in her own. Their fingers entwined. The half-Klingon was feeling very human at the moment. "I think I might be. What if it goes to my head? What if I am terrible at it? I mean, it is one thing to go wielding a Bat'leth and look tough for one battle. It's another to carry on the charade --" "B'Elanna," Seven gently interrupted. "It is unlikely you will dishonor yourself in this. You do not yet know what may come of this. I am almost sure that you will not have to wear leather all day, every day. Nor will you be constantly surrounded by Klingons who want fresh Targ meat. You are on Voyager. You will hire captains and managers for those kinds of duties. Or the Captain will. As it will, apparently, be a shared obligation." That caused the half-Klingon to chuckle in amusement. "I guess I am getting a little ahead of myself." "Perhaps." Seven nodded her head. There was a moment of friendly silence between them. "B'Elanna, it is late, and it appears you have finished with your task..." B'Elanna glanced at the panel and the tools that were strewn about. "Yeah, I think I'm close to done. Do you want to do anything special?" "I was thinking perhaps we might go to the Park? There is a grassy knoll that I think you might appreciate." B'Elanna began to grin. "I'll hurry." "I will help." ==^== It had taken Annika a goodly amount of time to get used to being on board the Tor'stag. It was perhaps the context of it. She was no longer a slave, but free. She was no longer captive, but she felt captivated. She was human, but now she was a woman of status - with the only question being whether it was temporary or forever. She secretly hoped for forever, but had not dared articulate that desire just yet. She did not wish it to be read the wrong way. After all, aside from the rare individuals, such as those on Voyager, Humans were seen as greedy, manipulative and dangerous. She did not like to picture herself that way, but she could understand the stereotype. Her race had been cruel masters of a good portion of the galaxy for centuries. Now the power had transitioned and it had taken more centuries for it to become clear that they would never again ride the star ways in the same manner. History moved on though, like it always did. And perhaps Leah was right. Perhaps a true change was in the air. After all, she couldn't imagine another time when a General of the Klingon Empire would even consider for half a double-heartbeat the taking of a human mate in any sort of public or non-slave related way. And with wooing, at that. They had not even kissed, yet. Annika strongly desired to, but she had not thought of a way to broach the topic yet. She was hindered, again, by humanity's past. Dr. Brahms would have thought her silly for delaying, but that would be because she didn't understand. It was cultural and it was an ingrained attitude. Even now, Annika, without the presence of Dr. Brahms, could not help the bow that came naturally. She only hoped that her submission was not a cause for disappointment. After all, what had sparked the General's interest had not been herself, but her beautiful 'cousin.' Annika knew she could never quite measure up. She was older, scarred in places seen and unseen. The other woman seemed so composed and serene, as if nothing had ever hurt her. Annika knew that could not be entirely true, because Seven did have cybernetic components, but it didn't change her feelings. And she worried that Belle really wanted what B'Elanna had and the truth was, Annika would deal with consorts to her mate, but never be happy about it. Annika was a monogamist at heart. And she had no right to make any claim or limit whatsoever on Belle. But she wanted to. She wanted to be able to say, "If I am to be your mate, I must be your one and only." Belle, however, was a woman of status, in an Empire where slaves and concubines were accepted as a matter of course. In some ways it was too much to consider. It was so much easier to build a new engine or to plot out better ways for the replicator to work than to worry about the what ifs and I wish it weres. That was what she was doing at the moment, making alterations to the Tor'stag, with Belle's permission of course. It gave Annika a sense of purpose. She must look alright though. She'd seen the envious looks of the other Klingons. It was probably that she was blonde. Her complexion and hair coloring was rare in many of the races. Fortunately, General Torres' staff would never touch her. Not without having to take on the General, and Belle had made things perfectly clear regarding Annika's status on board. That had been more than Annika had hoped for. She knew what it was to be human and female in this Universe. Discovering a way out had been her original motivation for designing the engine. It had all been theoretical, a fantasy. She'd known she'd never have the opportunity to make such a thing. It was just her sorry luck that someone educated had seen her scribbles. Well, she couldn't really call it the worst thing that ever happened any more, because it had led her here. Here, where her most dangerous decisions would be made. As she made her calibration changes and those other small, but effective improvements - with her hands deep in the guts of the replicator - Annika realized that what she was feeling, aside from the ambivalence of worry, was longing. She longed for Belle. She hungered for her. She needed her. That caused Annika to stop for a moment, with her hands holding the ends of clipped wires dangerously close together. She needed Belle. The question was how to get that across? Oh, it was the same damn dilemma. She began working again, stewing over process and what she thought she knew. Then a thought struck her and it was amazing in its simplicity. She plugged in the newly capped blue wire and looked up at the ceiling as if she were in prayer. "I'll just tell her. That's what Seven would do. Yes. That's what I'll do. I'll tell Belle." "You'll tell me what?" "Gah!" Annika jerked forward, bumped her head, and dropped the red wire - which fortunately was now also capped - slapped her hand onto where she'd smacked herself and turned to face the General. "Don't do that!" The General was both sorely amused and sorrowful that she'd caused Annika any pain. She stepped forward and, without quite embracing, pulled the other woman closer for an inspection of the wound. Of course, it was nothing, but these days Belle just enjoyed having Annika near. "It does not appear to be serious." Annika had dropped her hand by then and it had drifted onto the arm that Belle was holding her with. "Well, it hurts. A little." "Shall I kiss it and make it better?" Annika's mouth went dry and she fought to keep her composure. Fortunately, her subconscious had heard her message. She blurted, before she could stop herself. "Yes." Belle leaned in, smiling in whimsied surprise. She was met halfway. The kiss lingered and sweetened as it aged. When they pulled back, both were breathless and their eyes sparkled with desire. Belle, who now held Annika more closely, said, "What did you want to tell me?" It's always so easy to think it, but then the moment comes and nerves arrive. But Annika was considered a strong willed woman and bore the scars to prove it. She hesitated only briefly, long enough to look and gaze into Belle's eyes. Then she committed. "I want you. I need you in ways I have never experienced before. I know you owe me nothing. You set me free. You have been honorable in every way. And I am afraid that I will somehow fail you, because I am only human. I know others would say this because it somehow led to power or security. But I don't care about that. Belle, you have no idea how much I want you." Belle's hearts beat so loudly in her chest she could hardly bear it. Her expression turned very serious and there was a growl that seemed to come from deep within her chest. "You want me." "With everything I am." The half Klingon kissed the other woman fiercely, "I promised I would take it slow." "I don't think I could take it going slower, Belle. I ... need you." The General raised her hand and cupped Annika's face. "We must talk then, about what to do next." "I would like that. I have... concerns and I want you to hear them, before choices are made." She paused and then said, "I want you to know, I am willing to go the full distance. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. I... want to be there for you." Belle placed a fingertip against Annika's lips. "We will speak of it more at another time. First, you must finish what you started." "I can do that." Annika leaned in again and they kissed once more. Belle chuckled into the kiss, drew back and glanced meaningfully at the replicator. "I meant that you must finish fixing the replicator." Annika looked back. "Oh! Right. Of course." "I'll help." ==^== Kathryn probably should have left for the family quarters some time ago. But she lingered after Ensign Anderson left. She needed a few moments to herself. Of course, she could have gone to her personal quarters and had as much privacy, but she felt she needed the grounding of being near Voyager's Bridge. She said, to no one in particular, "I am Kathryn Janeway of the House Presba, Captain of the Federation Starship Voyager, Warlord. It reminded her that she had, somewhere in her personal past, a doctorate or two tucked away behind her name. Admiral Janeway. Doctor Janeway. Warlord Janeway.... It was ridiculous and sublime. Her lips quirked in amusement. And she realized she'd been handed yet another curve ball in her reality. "So much for doing better." She was almost sure that she had made an utter hash of things, except... except they were alive and she had family and there were so many good things. But how was she ever going to explain this? She shook her head and went to the replicator. This one still made that horrendous coffee, just the way she needed it sometimes. Maybe it was the way she said the words. "Coffee, hot, black." As usual the drink and its container sparkled into being. As usual, save when she was in her quarters, it came out... the way that only Voyager could make it. She grasped the cup by the handle, and cupped her palm around its circumference. The warmth of the cup had always been a comfort, even when the taste had been its most awful. She paced a little, letting her concerns play in her mind and wind their path. Intuition said to say, yes - to accept General Torres' offer. Or rather, Chancellor Worf's. Intuition was merely the self's way of getting to the main point. It didn't provide the justification or the reason. Only the answer. And she, as Captain, needed the reasons. She needed to be able to say why she made the choice. Of course, Belle had provided some very good reasons, but the General had to know the impact of the position, historical and social. Which meant there were reasons unspoken. That was when Captain Janeway understood. She paused and looked out the window at the stars and smaller ships that passed by. A Warlord had the authority to treat with others on behalf of the Empire. A Warlord could make bargains and make demands. A Warlord who was of a House in Both Universes would protect the interest of both Universes. She was closing in on something she could use. As she thought more about it, looking at it from the angle of having been an Admiral and where she was now, she started to find those reasons, things that both she and Starfleet could accept. "This could work," she said to her cup of coffee. She took a sip then. "I do think that this could work." She smiled at her reflection. "I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. Warlord of the House Presba." She nodded to herself. "Yes. That sounds better. I think we can make this work." She tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Commander Tuvok." "Commander Tuvok here." "Do you have a moment? Could you come to the Ready Room please?" "I will be there shortly." "Excellent. Janeway out." Kathryn smiled and took another sip. Then she walked to her desk and set the cup down. It was time to see what insight her logical friend and mate might provide. ==^== Part 4 | Bookmarks Sela and Tak arrived at Terok Nor a few days after Voyager. There were big things afoot. News was that the trials would begin very soon. Preparations of the space, which apparently had to be renovated to Klingon specifications, were taking place on the station. It could take up to a week, depending on how much a certain Intendant delayed. There were also rumors that The Truth Seeker planned on being there for the trials. That a ship had departed from Betazed had been verified. That it was headed towards Terok Nor had not. There was also the possibility that other representatives of status would be attending. Indications were that Trill was sending one of their ambassadors. So was Cardassia, though how they'd managed to scrape one out of that mess that was their region, Sela didn't know. Sela's father was going to be the representative from It would be the first time her mother had left Romulan space since her capture and the first time that Tasha Yar would be publicly acknowledged. Sela was looking forward to seeing them both. There were other reasons to be at Terok Nor. According to the news agency she'd been scooped by those who had caught the arrival of the House Presba. Her job had been threatened if she didn't get right back there. Not that she was worried. She had also noticed that no one else seemed to have scored interviews. She, on the other hand, had some inside sources now. When they were a few light years out she'd forwarded a request to Neelix of the House Presba. He'd contacted her quickly and had promised that he'd see what he could do. She expected that she would be surprising her employers soon enough. Belle, who had looked more grim than usual, had also contacted her. "As soon as you get here, I need to speak with you. We'll be meeting on Voyager." That practically shouted, 'Meeting in a secure location,' to the Romulan. This, of course, meant that Belle had news that was going to affect the Romulan region somehow. Sela was almost tempted to tell the Klingon to hold off with the news until her father arrived, since he probably was the one who needed to hear it. But Belle was her friend and they did have an understanding. So she would go, and while she was there, maybe she would have a chance to talk to that Truth Seeker again. Counselor Nael had been on her mind lately, not in any obsessive way, but Sela found herself somewhat intrigued by the Betazoid. The redhead was not like any other Betazoid that Sela had ever met. Of course, Sela had avoided as much contact with Betazoids as possible, especially after the Hive incident. But still. There was something to be discovered there. When they arrived Sela contacted Belle first. "We're here. I need to call Neelix and see if he scored those interviews for me." "I can do better," said the General. "I'll introduce you to my kin. What is your schedule tonight?" "I'm free. Can I bring Tak?" "You can send for him after." "Shit." "It's important." "I'm not going to like it, am I?" It wasn't really in question. But she needed to hear the truth anyway. "No, Sela. You aren't." "My father is coming to see the trials. Is this something that could wait for him?" "How soon will he be here?" "A few days. Not more than five." "Well, you'll have something to show him then. But you still need to see it first." Sela grimaced. "Fine. But I want some good interviews, the kind that will set the ratings skyrocketing." "You'll get them. I've arranged time with Miral and Gretchen." "Have I mentioned that I love you lately?" The General chuckled. "Tell me that afterwards. Then I'll know you really mean it. By the way, remind me to introduce you to Annika." "Ah, you did go after her then." Belle's expression lightened. "Yes. We have been... negotiating, but the short of it is she is, and will be, mine." Sela smiled warmly. It was about time. "I am truly happy for you, my friend. Let me know when you want me ready." "I will. Torres out." ==^== At 1700 hours, Torres contacted Sela's ship from Voyager. Soon, the Romulan was being greeted by the friendly Talaxian, Neelix. "Welcome aboard, Sela. I have a small itinerary. We will go straight to the conference room. After your meeting, the Captain will escort you to their family quarters for a meal, if you would like. When you're ready, contact me and then I'll pick you up and take you to see Judge Torres and Counselor Janeway. I've scheduled forty-five minutes for that and Counselor Nael has said she will be available afterwards, if you are still interested in meeting with her. After that, if you wish, I can arrange interviews with other crew or escort you back to the transporter. The reporter smiled. "Thank you, Neelix. I appreciate it. I'd like to arrange times for Tak to get some footage or stills tomorrow if we can't manage it today." "Sounds good." Neelix tapped the PADD in his hand and smiled up at the blonde. "If you'll follow me? ==^== The conference room was filled with somewhat familiar faces. Captain Janeway greeted Sela cordially and introduced her to Lieutenant Ro, Seven of Nine and Tuvok. "B'Elanna is working in Engineering, but should be in time for dinner later. You know Belle already, of course." "Sit down. Drink this. You'll need it," the General said as she handed Sela a large cup of Romulan Ale. Sela's eyes opened wide and she hissed a little through her teeth. She sat down in the offered seat and watched as others took places around the long table. Then she drained the cup in one long drink and carefully set the cup down. "What is going on?" "Show her what you showed me," Belle commanded. Seven of Nine said, "Please observe." Moments later Sela was seeing the same presentation that Belle had witnessed. An hour and a shattered cup later, a raging Sela had to be calmed down. "We just got done with the Hive! They ate me alive, Torres! And then these things..." Sela began cussing in Romulan and a variety of other languages. It only got worse when, as she paused for breath, the General said, "Sela, the Empire calls you back into service. You are reinstated, with a new rank of Lieutenant General. This order supersedes any previous obligations. Your new orders are to join me on the Tor'stag to take on your duties as my first. You will receive a packet of information which you may deliver to your Father with instructions to deliver it to the High Command of Romulus. You will receive notification if there are changes." "You can't do this!" "I just did." The General reached out, but then rethought her natural action and did not touch her angry friend. She said, "I'm sorry, Sela. It must be done. I can not face this alone and I do not know how long..." she indicated the solemn people around her, "... my family will be able to stay here. We need them, but we cannot make them stay. They have promised, however, to help us as much as they can. You understand. I know." The swearing began anew. ==^== She wasn't exactly mollified at dinner, but did behave. She and Belle would have *the* conversation later. She did have to admit that the Captain and her family knew how to serve a meal. More, she had her chance to ask questions. The only problem was that Sela would not be able to share the answers. On the other hand, it might make the news that she had been called to duty. This would set the tone for what people should expect. That thought had her narrowing her gaze at her friend. Belle was always thinking three or five levels ahead. Sela didn't say anything. She spent a moment looking around. Annika and Seven of Nine were involved in a quiet conversation of their own. Seven was dandling her child, young Emina, on one knee, while Annika was apparently quizzing her about some integrity problem that had been encountered on the Tor'stag. B'Elanna was interjecting answers between mouthfuls. T'Pel and Tuvok were eating with stately grace and, somehow, also guiding a conversation that was happening among the older children. Lwaxana and Kathryn were speaking with Laren about a request that had been made. "Wait, did I hear that right?" Sela asked. "You are thinking of going into the wormhole?" "We have not committed to it, but there are members of the crew who have made the suggestion," Laren said with a quirk of amusement. Sela thought about it for a moment, "Well, all I can say is that others have tried." Belle took a sip of Bajoran Spring Wine, "...and failed." "True." "Oh, we've been watching them fail all over the place. It's quite the business Terok Nor has going for it." Lwaxana added, "With Kira Nerys raking in twenty percent each time, for every rescue and repair." "Her right as Intendant." "Of course." "We wouldn't be going in to try and cross the wormhole anyway. If we were to go in, that is." "Why would we be going in?" "To meet the Prophets, of course." "Ah." "The beings you claim live within the wormhole." "The beings we know live within the wormhole." "I feel uncomfortable with the idea of this ship going in." "Well, we do have other options." "And we have now stepped far enough into ship's business at dinner. Time to change the discussion." "So, what is for dessert?" ==^== As promised, when she was ready, Neelix arrived to take her to Miral and Gretchen's quarters. The vivacious Talaxian kept up a warm ramble while they journeyed. Sela listened, but her mind was on other things. She had decided to go ahead and finish her task and get those last interviews. It would nail her position as a top reporter, which was something she'd come to value - even if it had been a cover for other duties. The person who opened the door to Miral and Gretchen's quarters was Deian. She wore the crest as a brooch on her formal outfit. "Ah, Journalist Sela. We are expecting you. If you will please come in." The Deian gave a passable servant's bow. It was enough to let Sela know that she was there in an official, paid capacity and not as slave. The Deian was a member of the House, which was no surprise. Sela had followed the story of Judge Torres since the videos of the court cases had been circulated. The Romulan was actually quite looking forward to meeting her. She was led to a central area with comfortable looking seats and wide spaces. Judge Torres and Counselor Janeway were standing, but looked as if they had just parted. Gretchen Janeway was looking a bit mussed. She was straightening her blouse out and flushed. Miral Torres was smiling down at Gretchen. Sela urgently wished that Tak had been there. It would have made a great still. She glanced to the side and the Deian nodded, then she introduced the journalist. Miral smiled, "Welcome Journalist Sela. It is truly a pleasure to meet you. Because of you, we knew our family had arrived." "So you really did not know they were back?" "No. We knew nothing." Miral indicated a chair. "Please take a seat, make yourself comfortable." Sela sat down and leaned forward a bit. She pulled out a recorder and held it loosely in her hand. "Thank you. So, if you don't mind, I'm sure there are many who are dying to ask this question. What led you to bring a Truth Seeker to your trials and, more importantly, how did you get her to agree to it?" ==^== Sela left the interview feeling satisfied that she had made the scoop. It was so good to have contacts sometimes. She winced a bit. Soon she would have to let go of that finely honed attitude and think in terms of the military again. Although, even there, it was good to have contacts. She was surprised when Neelix led her, not to the Mess Hall, but to an office. "Ah, Sela." Counselor Nael reached out and grasped Sela's hands in her own. "It is so good to see you again. Come in. Come in. I thought perhaps you'd like a quieter place to talk this time." The Betazoid turned and smiled. "Thank you, Neelix, for delivering her safely too me." The Talaxian beamed. "Of course. It is my pleasure. Ladies, please call at your convenience." The Betazoid let go of one hand, but not both. She led Sela in more fully and only when they were close enough to the chairs, and Neelix had finally left, did she let go. "So, what would you like to talk about today?" ==^== Sela left Priam feeling better than when she went in. It wasn't just the conversation, which had been illuminating, brightness in the dark that she had been carrying around. It was the person herself. She liked the Betazoid. And she'd been surprised to find that she liked Lwaxana as well, but... this was different. She really liked Priam Nael. The woman was articulate, kind, and somewhat visionary. Sela admitted to herself that she'd liked Priam from the first interview. Now she was sure. Sela had asked to see her again, outside of the scope of work and in the scope of socialization. Priam had not said no. She had said, "Let me think about it." She had explained her hesitation and that too had been a fresh experience. The counselor, she knew, had been completely honest. And she had no worries about where or to what that honesty would lead. Priam wanted Sela to be strong and healthy. But then, she had realized that the Truth Seekers on this ship really did have other's, as well as their own, interests in mind. So, maybe she was trying to compare nagak fruit to bezat. Voyager crew was different. They weren't trying to take over a Universe or grab power. They had come to rescue, not to conquer. But, oh, did they know how to kick ass. On She wondered if the Vulcans of Voyager were also touch telepathic. Not that she had really been able to hear anything since... the hive. She could still hear the crackle of their thoughts, foreign, buzzing, and cruel. They'd enjoyed her living death. She couldn't bear to be touched by others... Well, until the Betazoid. That had been the first time in... She closed her eyes against the flood of horror and waited for it to pass. Oddly, or perhaps not so oddly, it wasn't as intense as it had been in the past. The memories still gave her nightmares, however, and woke her in the middle of the night so she could spend time like this in a futile effort not to think about being hung up, tubed and used like a living party snack. Thank God, Belle had come. But there were days and nights when Sela wished she'd been allowed to expire. She could face that more clearly now. She still didn't know why the Klingon hadn't just shot her. After all, she'd been that mangled when they'd found her. And, before Belle, who called the loss of Sela a waste, it had been traditional. 'She should have let me go,' Sela thought. But she knew that would not have been possible for her Klingon friend. They had gone through too much together to lose one another so soon. It was too bad Belle had this thing about seniority and fraternization. It could have been more. Though...Sela's thoughts returned to the sensually built counselor. Now Sela's interests drifted in a new direction. There were possibilities there, if Priam Nael would allow it. Sela truly hoped that she would. ==^== Not too far from Terok Nor, yet still days away, an ovoid ship warped through space. It was the ship of The Truth Seeker, the physical embodiment of all Truth Seekers, heir to the throne of Betazed. The title shift had been a recent thing. The last head of the Truth Seekers had died - of old age - a rarity. They had been a person of ideals and someone that the new head Truth Seeker honored. That wasn't to say that there weren't problems in the body of the Truth Seekers. There were accusations of dishonor and deliberate cruelty. It had been true in the past that there were those who took advantage of their position. That was the hazard of power, which Betazoids possessed in increasing amounts. The Truth Seeker, however, wished to change those rumors and to possibly guide her people towards a better way - somehow without losing what power they had in the galaxy. The key to that change lay at Terok Nor. ==^== The next day Captain Janeway called a staff meeting. There she told the crew of Belle's proposal to herself and B'Elanna. She explained that she was leaning towards accepting the proposal for three reasons. First, it would secure the safety of the ship in a foreign Universe. Second, it would be advantageous to Universe Alpha. Third, it might give leverage that would help them avoid more bloodshed as they dealt with the Orion Syndicate. "All good points," commented Chakotay, "But you do realize that you're being given the authority to build a personal army. How do you feel about that?" "I was hesitant, at first. I recognize the dangers inherent, based on our history. I am not, however, someone interested in creating my own empire." "Neither was Caesar." She grimaced and then grinned at Chakotay, "But then, Caesar wasn't dealing with Klingons either." "Ah, well, there is that." "I'm not trying to establish or recapture a republic, Chakotay. And Klingons have a different tradition when it comes to the building of personal armies. But that's not even the reason I finally accepted the potential. You see, I realized we were already doing it. True, it's under the Federation Banner, but essentially, in the Delta Quadrant we have to be able to fight on our own." Commander Tucker began nodding her head. "We were building a military power. Small, but efficient." "Exactly. More, in our Universe we are guided by certain principals, which have proved trustworthy. Those principals don't disappear just because we are in this Universe. In fact, they become more relevant and important." "In this Universe, and in Universe Alpha, a Warlord is an auxiliary arm to the Empire's military force," commented Tuvok. "It is based on the number of people a House can rally to its cause, but House Honor is what keeps it in check. If the Chancellor is doing a good job, he or she has nothing to fear. In Universe Alpha the option has fallen into disuse, but it could easily be restarted in the Empire. The position does have its own checks and balances." "Exactly, House Presba will not be the only one with that kind of military power in this Universe and possibly Alpha. And, actually, it is more than likely House Presba's will be a smaller army compared to say the House Martok or the House Worf..." Lieutenant Ro added, "... which is part of the Chancellor's personal forces." "It is a reasonable solution and provides a toe in the door, diplomatically speaking," Commander Tucker said. "It does, but it also brings up a new topic. General Torres has formally requested that we ask for volunteers who are willing to stay in this Universe. She prefers members of the House Presba, but we negotiated and she is willing to take on those crew members that are willing to take the risk. I recognize that we have been treating most of our contact as a Prime Directive issue, but I think, it would be good to have more... positive... influence in this universe." There was a bit of a stir in the conference room. "Now, mind you, I would hate to lose anyone, but it is something to consider." Commander Chakotay looked thoughtful. "I can think of a few Maquis who would be interested in staying. They do not have anything to go home to in our Universe, but here they might have better options." Commander Veckma then said, "I would personally like to stay with Voyager, but my crew and I feel that you have successfully kept your promise to return us to our home, even if it is in a different Universe and time." Captain Janeway smiled at that, and then raised her hand gently and said, "I am sure there will be plenty who are willing, if only for the adventure of it. I'd like to formalize the process. Department heads will ask for volunteers. Those names will be turned over to Chakotay. We will go through a selection process. Once the volunteers are selected, we will treat it as a procedural matter - as transfers - which will then allow the volunteers to return to Starfleet afterwards, if they wish." "You plan on returning to this Universe." "Voyager is capable of multiple transitions and I believe we will be asked to return by Starfleet, if only so that we can share information. We have information they need. They have information we need. Especially if we make it back to the Alpha Quadrant, which Dr. Brahms indicates is more than theoretically possible. Lieutenant Sayr agrees. In fact, of all the ships in two Universes, we may have the ability to transition to any location, as long as we have the correct coordinates. Dr. Brahms has indicated a desire to stay on, regardless of whether we make it to the Alpha Quadrant, in which case I'm strongly considering creating a new department for her. "Also, should we not have volunteers or enough of them; we have the option of assignment. We believe that the Empire, which is the governing body here, is in need of serious preparation and training for dealing with the Borg. Failing volunteers, experienced personnel would be raised a rank and then transferred to a training station. We would stay in Universe Beta for six months, when our personnel would be returned to us. Then we would leave this Universe, without the expectation of return.... or welcome. "General Torres was very clear that the Empire here takes its alliances very seriously. If we accept the position, Universe Alpha - both the Federation and the Klingon Empire - would be considered allies, regardless of their current political state in Universe Alpha. That would be their business and the Empire would remain neutral until one or the other wins or they resolve their differences. If we fail to take the position of Warlord, then - aside from our House relations, which currently may be thought of as good, - we would only have the status of diplomatic envoys. Those of us who were of the House would remain so, and Voyager's popular status would remain, but we would not be able to expect any favors in regard to Universe Alpha. "Meaning, if we needed live bodies to help fight off the Hive, we would have to find them on our own," said Commander Tucker. "Or," said Lieutenant Ro, "... they would feel no obligation to avoid empire grabbing. After all, Annika Hansen is of this Universe. The capacity to make the engine is in their hands." "Oh boy," muttered Lieutenant Kim. "Tell me about it," whispered B'Elanna. "Another topic we need to cover is that of exit strategies." Captain Janeway had their full attention again. "There have been several plans put on the table. Due to reports we have received from General Torres, we believe we successfully put a real crimp in the plans of the Orion Syndicate, at least in Universe Beta. General Torres believes that the Syndicate will be licking its wounds for a few months and that it would be impractical for us to try and scare up the other guilty cartels at this point. "True it gives them recovery time, but she has also agreed to take on the task as a House obligation, should we agree to the proposal and take on the duties of Warlord. That would solve our obligations here and free us up to address the problem of Universe Alpha. The same cartels that caused the problems here are still active in Universe Alpha, as far as we know and we do have standing orders in Starfleet in regard to the Syndicate. We are also aware of other problems in the Alpha Quadrant, including a shadow government faction. If this Universe transitioning hardware should fall into their hands..." "It would be bad." "It would be deadly to Voyager, I think. And I believe we are all in agreement that Voyager, as herself, is an entity to be preserved." There were solemn nods. "I've been going over the last reports Starfleet sent us. I think politically things may be worse than we thought. I've shared with you the information that my sister passed on earlier. We don't know quite what we're going back to. Which brings me to the proposal that I've been leaning towards... the taxi home method." "Taxi home?" "We have crew that would simply like to be able to go home. The principal of the Taxi Home method is that we go to the Alpha Quadrant. We drop those who want to go off, pick up those who wish to go with us and then we go back to Voyager's Rest. We establish Voyager's Rest as home base and from there... we could continue in our duty to explore new worlds." "And at the same time keep Voyager out of reach of the children?" "Something similar to that. What I'd really like to do is go back to Voyager's Rest first, and have Commander Magnum and Neelix do some special negotiation first, which I have already spoken to them about. Then we would apply the Taxi Home method of delivery and take people where they need to go." "Starfleet won't know what hit them," Commander Magnum promised. "I'm sure," and for once, Janeway grinned back. "This brings us to the things we'd like to do before we leave Universe Beta. First there are the trials. I believe we should attend those, if only because Judge Torres resides on this ship and is the one who will be adjudicating. Second there is setting up the logistics with General Torres if we accept the proposition of the title Warlord and there are enough volunteers. Third there is the possibility of trying to go through the wormhole. I believe that this Universe needs to at least have contact with the entities in the wormhole, if only so the entities can be made aware of the hazards on the other side. " Lieutenant Paris' eyes lit up. "We're going to go for it?" Captain Janeway shook her head and laughed. "Yes, Tom, we're going for it. But not necessarily in Voyager." "Oh," Tom's shoulders slumped. Captain Janeway looked over at Commander Sofuru, whose lips were tugging up in a grin. "Actually, we were thinking of the Three Sisters. Stinging Sparrow is very interested. War Flower and Striking Feather, as well as Voyager, would wait in the wings to grab us before Terok Nor could do the service of it. Commander Sofuru says they can accommodate six of us, besides her standard crew, now that the ship is roomier. It would be cramped, but it can be managed." "I volunteer." Tom sat up. "Thank you. I was planning on offering you one of the spots. Seven of Nine and Lieutenant Ro would also be going, as would Shaman Orsas. Lieutenant General Sela would join the group. We will be inviting Kira Nerys, as the representative of her people, to join us. If she doesn't say yes, there will be an alternative. I will also be going." Chakotay began to object. "This would not be our typical away mission, Chakotay. No one who has entered the wormhole has lost their lives. They may have come out mangled, but not dead. I am willing to chance it. Contact with the beings in the wormhole could make the difference for Bajor and the Empire in this reality - a positive difference. If we think in terms of stability, and its affect on Universe Alpha, you can see that the reward would be equal to the trouble. And the truth is, the Empire does not want the wormhole opened up just yet. But they are interested in starting healthy relations with the beings who live there. I think, since we are not attempting to actually travel the wormhole, we might have a better chance than most." "I'm still not entirely sanguine about this Kathryn." "Well, you have twenty four hours in which to convince me differently, Chakotay." She grabbed her coffee cup and sat back in her chair. "Well, now it's all on the table. What do you all think?" That was when the conversation really began. ==^== Several hours later Captain Janeway contacted General Torres and Belle beamed over for lunch. "I really don't know what I'm going to do when you go away. Do you mind if I clone Icheb?" "I don't mind, but Icheb might." The General chuckled, as she took a bite of deliciously scrumptious Italian. "Oh... this is wonderful stuff." "It is, isn't it?" Kathryn took a healthy bite of her own. "I think he may actually have moved from application right into artistry." Belle nodded and set the fork down. She dabbed her lips with a napkin. "So, I know you didn't just invite me over to lunch just to eat. Tell me what you need me to know." Kathryn grinned. "Well, bottom line is this: We accept." Belle grinned widely. "Excellent. This will make things much easier. I knew you were a wise woman, Kathryn Janeway." "Well, it may be my staff is wiser. It was Tom who pointed out something that you might find particularly entertaining." "What is that?" "You do realize that Deanna Troi is now your niece. Or at least the Universe Alpha Deanna is. Apparently this Universe's Deanna Troi is still working out the implications." Belle was suddenly glad she hadn't reached for that drink yet. Her eyes went wide as Kathryn continued on with a cheeky grin. "She'll be arriving in a couple of days and Lwaxana is completely expecting to have a full on family dinner on Terok Nor. Apparently The Truth Seeker wants neutral territory..." "Not so fast there..." ==^== Part 5 | Bookmarks It was just one of those strange vagaries of fate, she decided. Prophets knew the Universe had a sense of humour, and she supposed that granting the idea that it would also have a sense of irony was not beyond the pale. In either case, Ro Laren of the House Presba allowed one of her rare smiles to show, gifting it to the woman standing somewhat expectantly in front of her. Of course, Seven of Nine often looked expectant, as though she were waiting patiently for everyone else to catch up - or catch on - to what she had planned. Raking her eyes over the voluptuous form of her tall, blonde mate, Laren swiftly decided that no matter what the plan was, she was game. And then some. Seven was standing just out of reach, and Laren wondered if the distance was deliberate, or merely an artifact of the space taken up by the roundish wicker picnic basket being held negligently in one hand. "I have missed you, Laren." As she spoke, Seven held out her right hand and Laren took it, entwining their fingers. "I miss you too," she replied, surprised to realize how truly she meant the words. They lived together, played together, loved together, but Laren realized they no longer really worked together - or at least not the way they had. Not since the intensive planning sessions that had led first to capturing and then eventually to winning the Zakeeri as allies, had she been privileged to be part of what had been a very productive and pleasant working relationship. And, it was, after all, that very synergy that had flowed unobtrusively through them that had led to such wonderful discoveries for both of them. "Are we going to The Park?" Laren waved her free hand at the basket, her eyes locked on Seven's mouth as she contemplated kissing the blonde. "No." Seven made her considerations moot, as she closed the distance between them and Ro felt her lips captured in a light, but thorough, exploration. The kiss tapered off and Seven whispered against her lips. "I wish to be alone with you." Laren felt her cheeks flush with heat at the wanton promise held in the simple words. "That would be...acceptable." She tilted her head in silent request for another kiss, pleased beyond all reason when Seven immediately complied. Sweet Prophets, but the woman could kiss. Every nibble, and gentle swipe of tongue over flesh, sent erotic shocks firing through her nerves. Her name was breathed into her mouth: benediction and command both. Her body responded and she was amazed at the gentle orgasm that washed over her. She rested her forehead against Seven's, dimly aware that their pulses were synchronized, though their breathing was not. It was Seven who somehow broke the embrace, yet left the peace that had settled over them undisturbed. "Come with me, my Laren. Today, you are mine." Laren nodded, "Yours." ==^== They were walking along the edge of the lake, hand in hand, as they had been for most of the day, and Seven found she was enjoying the sensations playing inside and outside of her body. Her connection to Laren manifested as a heightening of sensitivity in the organic portions of her body, which in turn increased her awareness of the way the light and air hit the exposed sections of her skin. Lunch had been an equally low-key affair, a selection of breads, fruits and cheeses consumed amid exchanges of kisses, morsels of food and light conversation. Seven looked over at Laren and offered her a smile, and was gratified with change of warmth she registered in the Bajoran's eyes. Laren stopped walking. Instead she stared out across the water. Seven let go of her hand to move behind the woman and bring their bodies into contact. She wrapped her arms around Laren's waist, knowing it for the correct action as her hands were clasped warmly. They stood in companionable silence for a long while, and she |