Book 4: Reflections

Part 2

Contact: the authors can be reached at bearblue1@yahoo.com or llachness@gmail.com

The truth was, the mates were more aware of being torn asunder than they were of how it was happening. The scream that burst from all of them was raw, primal and devastating. It seemed to float through the membrane of the Universes they traversed.

They did not know it could happen, but the shuttle had been close enough to be carried in the equivalent of a wake. A ripple of change flowed through the enveloping space surrounding Voyager and dragged the shuttle along, simultaneously spinning it out in a different direction.

Thus, Voyager arrived at one place and the shuttle at another.

Not that it mattered to those in the shuttle. By the time they arrived in the Delta quadrant of another Universe, they were barely conscious.

==^==

Voyager skidded to a halt, unknown Universes away, in an unknown system, in an unknown location. Those of the Prime who had been through the shock of separation before clung to consciousness, but were swamped by the pain of the loss. Those who had not were unconscious.

During that chaotic time, Commander Deanna Troi made decisions as best she could: on-the-fly. She felt the echo of their pain and knew how deep it ran, yet was able to shunt it away from herself, largely out of necessity. Survival commanded that she stay alert. She felt Asil's support and so leaned heavily on her mate's strength.

In relative terms it did not take long to figure out what had happened. The perpetrators had been stunned and were presently being carried to the brig. Figuring out exactly where they were in relation to their own universe was going to take more time.

The good news was that, while they had come out close to a star system, they had not actually come out within a star. Nor, apparently, was the system occupied. The bad news was that they did not appear to be in any known quadrant.

It would take Astrometrics hours to pin down, if possible, their current location. But they were not going to linger to find out. On the other hand, they knew exactly where their previous location had been.

Deanna Troi turned to Lieutenant Sayr. "Get us back." Then she tapped her communicator, "Voyager, please transfer the Prime according to Prime protocol alpha-three." The protocol had been established based on past experience. It had been one of the first things of which she'd been apprised. Now she understood why. She also knew now why Ezri Dax had had to be replaced as Voyager's First Officer. The top five officers in the chain of command could not all be insensate at once.

She watched as her parents were sparkled away and was surprised to find that it was a little easier to breathe. Deanna wasn't sure how her mother had coped with it, and suddenly she knew why Lwaxana had understood her pain; the elder Troi had lived through much worse.

Deanna tapped her communicator once more, "Commander Troi to Dr. Zimmerman, the Prime has been split."

There was a moment of horrified silence on the other end. Then the Doctor replied, "Acknowledged. Voyager and I will begin observation."

==^==

It took a half an hour before the Trans-Universal Engine was ready again. It seemed far too long. Data began arriving from Astrometrics. First indications seemed to be that they were actually in a completely different arm of the Galaxy, an arm far beyond which anyone had ever traversed. It would have been a historic moment, if it hadn't been so painful and unintended. They still weren't sure how many Universe variants they had hopped.

Voyager had yet to answer queries with her usual verve. Deanna understood that it must be very difficult for the living ship, but she was functioning and the First Officer did not have time to engage in counseling. What she did do was visit the brig once the prisoners were conscious.

She only asked them one question. "Did you do it on purpose?"

The reactions of the mercenaries were diverse. One claimed it had been deliberate, while the others claimed it was an accident. She knew the truth and she left without responding to their mewling questions about what would happen next.

She had to go back to the bridge, and though she knew there were those who were suffering on board, she firmly set aside her mental picture of herself as a counselor in a temporary command role, and accepted that she was a commander with a counseling background. The only way she could really help them was to get them home as soon as possible, and that required she command.

When it was time, Lieutenant Sayr signaled the First Officer.

Deanna, who had only had a sketchy introduction to the procedure, took a calming breath and did her best. "All hands prepare for transition in thirty seconds. Mr. Paris, on my mark bring us to warp one. Mr. Sayr, begin countdown as soon as we hit speed."

"Aye, ma'am."

The countdown was conducted and suddenly they were moving between universes again. This time, Deanna was conscious that there was more in the membrane between the universes than what she was seeing and used to experiencing. She could swear she heard singing.

It didn't last long and she was too upset to interpret things correctly. She was, however, completely grateful when they arrived in the Presban System. She knew they were successful, because there was immediate communication from both the Titan and the Orantho. "Where did you go?"

Her hopes of a full restitution of the Prime, however, were dashed. Deanna felt it before Dr. Zimmerman contacted her. "The Prime are still affected. I believe they are still split."

"Thank you, Doctor," Deanna had replied evenly. She knew then, that their journey was only beginning.

==^==

Kate knew she was considered gruff. She hadn't been deaf enough, even before the rejuvenation treatments, not to have heard herself described as acerbic and irascible in polite company, and as a bitch otherwise. It was a necessary demeanor, one she didn't regret in the slightest. But, oh how, she wished it were true. There was no way to curb the rending ache that tore through her mind. No way to pretend that the loss wasn't hers and that it didn't affect her.

They were gone.

She would find no physical release to tame or soothe the hurt this time, and knew only too well that she would rise again from the oblivion of alcohol, only to find the pain waiting.

They were gone.

And she was not.

Vaguely, she was aware of skin on hers and she moved into the comfort the touches promised. She was not alone.

〈〈We are here.〉〉

More aware, she was able to follow the thread that was Kathryn's, and then those of T'Pel, Tuvok, and Lwaxana. Ezri's was there, but indistinct, not as solid, and when she tried to hold it, the pain that roared back in her direction nearly overwhelmed her again, but the others reached back. 〈〈We are here.〉〉

"What happened?" Her lips were dry, and she tried to lick them. Someone, she wasn't sure who, held a straw for her.

"There was an accident. Voyager went one place, the shuttle Laren, Seven and B'Elanna were in went to another." Kathryn's voice was raw with pain, and Kate knew that it was taking a toll on her mate to be calm.

Kate burrowed deeper into them, and let her tears flow. They were there, and she was not alone.

==^==

Pain. So very much pain. Ezri, who knew the pain of deaths violent and natural, quick and slow, agonizing and merciful, knew only that none of it prepared her for the awful realization that she was still alive. She was torn asunder, and nothing would ever, could ever be right again. Struggling, she fought the return to consciousness; did not want to face the reality starkly written in her psyche. They were gone. And she was not.

A whisper of thought ghosted through her body and she fought to pull it into focus. Dax.

Without the agony ripping through her soul, she might have let out an astonished, "Oh." They were many made one, but Dax had never had a pure separate voice. Even now, it wasn't words or a tangible thread of meaning. It was an idea of an emotion. She reached for it.

Emina.

Suddenly, she was fighting for consciousness as desperately as she had been fighting it. Through the levels she became aware that she was not alone. Other bodies were pressed around her, she just couldn't hear or feel them; all awareness of them was buried by the overwhelming grief. "Lwaxana," she tried to force a thought with the words.

〈〈I am here. We are here.〉〉

Ezri cried out in denial. "They are not."

〈〈No. They are not.〉〉 Like the dead their names were not spoken, and she felt a horrible crash of guilt. The shuttle. She had gotten them killed. A fresh wave of pain rose to greet the one that already burned her soul.

This time it was Tuvok who touched her mind, and T'Pel who wrapped her body tightly. 〈〈It was not the shuttle. It was not you.〉〉 They opened to her then. The memories hinted at during the bonding spilled from all of them into her, and into Kate. It was agonizing anew, this remembered pain borne and lived through. It also carried hope: the promise of a return.

The same odd mental twinge tugged at her again, more strongly than before. Emina. Azan. Rebi. Mezoti. Icheb. She remembered now. "Lwaxana. The children."

"The children are with Samantha and Neelix."

Ezri shook her head. "Look." Words refused to form from the chaotic set of signals her mind was trying to process. Without thinking about it, she grabbed Tuvok, and thought with everything she had.

A flicker of understanding passed between them and Ezri passed out.

==^==

Tuvok made the logical decision even as his heart followed his mate into oblivion. He reached out with his hands, anchoring himself in T'Pel, as he gathered his thoughts. "Voyager, transport Emina, Azan, Rebi, Mezoti and Icheb to us." He paused. "And Barin."

"Acknowledged."

He forced himself upright. The children would need to see strength, even as they needed to see the reality of the loss. He did not need to look to see that Kathryn had also summoned the strength of will to stand. Lwaxana had fresh tears running down her face as she communed with the inbound children.

Icheb materialized on his knees, Emina screaming into his chest, while Barin clung to them, valiantly trying to soothe his sister. They were quickly enfolded into Lwaxana's warmth, and T'Pel placed her hand on the toddler's cheek. Azan and Rebi were standing, facing one another, identical looks of despair and confusion on both their faces. Tuvok, reached for both of them, seeing in the periphery, Mezoti caught up in a hug by Kathryn.

By mutual agreement they moved the children to the center of the Nest and gathered them in closely. Ezri, still unconscious, and Kate, more aware than the Trill, but still insensate, were brought with them. One by one, the mind of each child was touched. One by one the explanation given. One by one they were held and loved.

One by one they cried. Their link to Seven of Nine had been severed.

There was a ping from the navigation console, and then buttons began to blink. Seven of Nine fought her way up from near unconsciousness to stagger over and look at the navigational message, barely able to read it. The only word she really tracked was Voyager. She slapped an acknowledgment in an effort to get the horrible ringing tone out of her system. It didn't work.

The autopilot, which detected Voyager two point one light years from their current point, responded by setting a new course. The feature that their children had added for their Seus' convenience now served their other mothers.

Seven of Nine slid down onto the floor and had managed to bring herself into physical contact with both of her mates when she finally gave in to unconsciousness.

==^==

Despite all it had been through, the Federated Planets Starship, FSS Voyager, still maintained its original shine. True, there were a few scuff marks and scars aplenty on the Intrepid class ship, but that was to be expected; the vessel had been traveling for almost eight years through dangerous alien territory. The Delta quadrant was not a peaceful place.

From Captain Janeway's perspective, her crew exemplified what it meant to be Starfleet. They were bright, capable people who did their duty and continued to pursue life with gusto. They continued to uphold the precepts of the Federated Planets in the face of everything that had happened to them.

"Captain Janeway."

"Yes, Tuvok?"

"There's a blip on our sensors."

The Captain looked interested. "What kind of blip, Commander?"

"It is..." He paused, "…an unknown class of shuttle."

"Can you get me any more information?"

"The vessel is heavily shielded, but I will try."

Kathryn smiled ruefully as she stood to face him. They were all trying.

"I read three life forms. They do not appear to be moving." He made adjustments on his console then looked up, both of his brows raised. "Captain, these readings are singular. Perhaps you should come evaluate them also."

Deciphering that Tuvok was surprised by what he had seen, she lift a brow of her own in silent question. When he nodded, Kathryn walked to where he was standing. Then she did a double take. "Impossible."

==^==

The shuttle came to a full stop once it neared Voyager. There was no action on its part, no reaction to hails. "Tractor it to the docking bay," commanded Kathryn. "Tuvok, you have the conn."

Janeway contacted the Doctor on the way and debated whether to contact her Chief Engineer. Ultimately, she decided to wait, since she did not know what they might actually be encountering. The scans provided general details, which were provocative enough, but there had been anomalies in the data too.

She watched as the craft was brought in and docked by maintenance. Then she grabbed a tool designed to crack open doors and rapidly made her way to the vessel.

The Doctor joined her. "What is the emergency?"

"We have…guests and they're unconscious."

"Ah, well, why didn't you beam them directly to sickbay?"

"Because there is evidence that this ship has been in a fire fight and we wanted to make sure that other types of evidence were not disturbed."

"I see." His brow wrinkled in thought.

They stepped closer to the shuttle and there was a flash of light. Then a warning bleat. "Halt! This shuttle has engaged a first level safety protocol. Scanning."

Another light flashed over them, and there was another, unidentifiable, noise before the computerized voice spoke again. "Captain Kathryn Janeway, alterations indicated. Please identify yourself."

"I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager."

"Processing."

Kathryn looked at the Holodoctor. He shrugged, just as baffled as she was.

"Genetic variant detected. Password needed. Password choice: Question, Identify or Personal Detail. Choose one."

Kathryn took a chance. "Identify."

A small three-dimensional image flashed before them. The video displayed a ten second clip of an animal racing after a disc in flight. Kathryn's expression tightened, but she knew the answer. She did not know how the shuttle managed to have that particular clip. "Molly."

"Password accepted. Privacy settings have not been encoded. Captain Kathryn Janeway and Guest, you are permitted to enter."

The door of the shuttle opened and drifted to the floor like a clamshell. Captain Janeway ascended the ramp.

==^==

Nudity, per se, was not an issue in the twenty-third century, but that did not mean it wasn't a surprise to encounter it in unexpected places, and Kathryn Janeway was very surprised by what she saw. She didn't let that stop her. Though a part of her wanted to survey the ship, she was more concerned with the people in it and she raced over to the prone figures. The EMH followed quickly and began running a scan.

"Are they?"

"I know this sounds odd, and there are definite genetic differences, but, yes, Captain. This is Lt. B'Elanna Torres. This is Seven of Nine. This is Commander Ro Laren. Or at a version of them."

"They look so young."

"Captain, they are young. They all appear to be in young adulthood for their respective species."

The Captain reached and touched B'Elanna's cheek and brushed away the moisture. Then she knelt, observing that Seven of Nine's hands were on Laren and B'Elanna both. She looked up at the Klingon, whose fingers were entangled with Seven's.

And stranger still, they were unconscious, yet all of them were weeping.

==^==

Awakening was a painful experience. B'Elanna resisted it, knowing how much it was going to hurt before she was even conscious. Still she gasped awake, tears streaming down the sides of her face. The curses she spewed were a glorious mix of languages, including the Presba Tongue. She finally ended with, "Shit. Kathryn is going to kill us."

A familiar, smoky voice, responded. "Now why would I do that?"

The words came with the warmth of a hand familiarly shaped and placed on the Klingon's shoulder. For a moment, B'Elanna had hope.

And then, she realized the pain was still there. "Oh...Kahless."

B'Elanna didn't want to do it, but she opened her eyes anyway. There was Kathryn, as she used to be. She even wore the old Starfleet uniform. She was a handsome forty-something with medium length auburn hair and beautiful blue-grey eyes, which gazed down with bemused concern at B'Elanna.

The Klingon quivered in sorrow. One of the consequences of taking the trip through Maze had been the reward for succeeding. An energy field had covered them, literally transforming ship and crew to younger, healthier versions of themselves. Many of the crew looked like they'd just hit adulthood, including B'Elanna's mate Kathryn Janeway, and seeing the woman in front of her was like viewing a ghost. "Oh, I wish you were her."

She closed her eyes again, unable to stop the tears that flowed.

"Lieutenant..."

"I know. You want to comfort me. But you can't." The Klingon sat up, slowly. Then she swiveled as if she intended to jump off the bed.

Kathryn held her back gently. B'Elanna looked at the Captain. "I need to be near them. We need proximity. We're mates."

"Mates? Seven of Nine and Ro Laren are your mates?" She and the Doctor had pulled the records of the shuttle in order to try and determine what might have caused the loss of consciousness. It had been an eye opening experience, and she even now had lingering physical and emotional reactions to what she had seen. Some images she would hold in her heart for years to come. But Kathryn felt the need to test the information; to make sure what was witnessed was true.

B'Elanna looked at Kathryn. "They are. Seven and Laren are my mates. We are separated from our other mates. This severing is why we ache."

"Other…" Multiple partnerships were not unheard of, but it was unusual enough that Kathryn was having difficulty with the idea. "I don't understand."

"It was the Pon Farr."

Captain Janeway was honestly trying to keep up, to comprehend. She was always a quick study. So she brought up the one example most related to B'Elanna she could think of. "The one with Vorik?"

"No. Tuvok's."

Kathryn digested the new information and extrapolated from what she knew of the Pon Farr. "Tuvok is part of your mate group." As off-kilter as she felt, she also felt a flash of amusement thinking of her stalwart Vulcan friend with multiple wives.

"He is."

Confusion followed the amusement as her knowledge of the Pon Farr, and its consequences came fully to the fore. "But Tuvok, he handled that with..." She wasn't sure how much she should share, but if they were mates, then they must know. She completed her sentence in low tones. He was her friend and she respected his privacy. These circumstances, however, were unique, "...with a hologram."

B'Elanna stared at Kathryn, appalled. Then she shook her head, "Oh. Poor Tuvok, and oh, Kahless, T'Pel." Now that she understood more about Vulcans, she appreciated how awful that must really have been for them. Pon Farr was much more than just a physical and chemical drive. She grimaced, the memory acted as a trigger and her need washed over her. She ached for him, for them. "We went through an anomaly." She knew it was necessary to explain, but there was too much talk. B'Elanna forced herself to concentrate. "We are House Presba. We formed the House because the Zakeeri were attacking and it was the logical thing to do. The Zakeeri were clan-based. Kathryn thought..."

It was a motivation that Kathryn could understand. "You thought if they could see that you formed clans too, they'd be willing to talk." She put aside her sudden realization that she, or at least an alternate version of herself, was part of the mated group, and that there was a universe where she was bonded not just to Tuvok, but to Seven of Nine and Ro Laren.

"Yes."

It sounded exactly like a strategy that she would come up with. Kathryn scowled, and rapidly found herself believing the Klingon, even if it sounded outrageous. Perhaps specifically because it did sound so outrageous.

"When we hit the Anomaly the adults of the House gathered. It had forced Tuvok into early Pon Farr. He needed us and we needed him. We needed each other."

"And you were bonded."

"Yes."

"I see." Kathryn had so many questions, but could see that it was perhaps not a good time for them. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Guest quarters together. Soon." B'Elanna groaned and answered one of the captain's unspoken questions. "My Kathryn, she is going to be very upset."

"As upset as you are."

"Yes. It is painful for us to be separated this way. She'll come after us, when she can. But they'll need time with each other too."

"I think I understand." And the more information she gathered, the more that statement was true. Kathryn wished, in some ways, that she could have kept certain events in the shuttle private. She'd felt the need to bring in someone who might understand the physics of the phenomenon that had obviously catapulted the three into her universe, however, and she'd known that the expert she'd chosen would have cracked any blocks she might have used to filter the content. Then again, Seven of Nine could absolutely be trusted not to share what she had learned. "We pulled the records of the shuttle and Seven of Nine, our Seven, has been investigating what happened." She had not yet had a chance to consult with the ex-drone, but Kathryn anticipated it would be an interesting, if somewhat uncomfortable conversation.

B'Elanna's expression lightened a little and she glanced at Kathryn with some amusement. "I bet that shocked the hell out of you."

Kathryn inhaled before replying. "That's one way you could phrase it." She quashed her own reaction, and patted B'Elanna's shoulder. "It will be alright."

"She'll come get us." It was spoken with absolute faith. "But if we can get back sooner, it would be good."

"Never abandon a member of your crew," Captain Janeway said softly to herself. Then, more firmly, she said. "If we can find a way, we will. I'll make arrangements for temporary quarters. We don't have a lot of..." She remembered who she was speaking to. As youthful as the Klingon might look, and as different as some of her mannerisms might be, the DNA claimed this was B'Elanna. And, she was inclined to believe it.

"I know." B'Elanna appeared to be calming. "Thank you, Kathryn."

==^==

"Where's Doc Zimmerman?" B'Elanna moved off of the Bio-bed.

"Zimmerman?"

"Your EMH."

"The Doctor picked a name?"

"Yeah, but only after Dr. Pulaski made him." B'Elanna couldn't help the fond twist her mouth took as she recalled some of the arguments in sickbay that she had walked in on.

"Admiral Katherine Pulaski?"

B'Elanna sighed, every question she answered led to more, and she wasn't sure how much more energy she could spare. She wished that Seven were awake to help. "There was a spatial rift. Kate was on the way to the front when the Orion Syndicate decided to try out a new inter-universal transportation unit. The USS Steele and a Klingon ship were making a break for it, when we rescued 'em. Now she's head of the Medical Department and one of our mates." That her Kathryn had been married to Katherine Pulaski in another timeline, long after returning from the Delta quadrant, she left out.

Kathryn's eyebrows rose. "Wait. How many?"

"There are nine of us total."

"Nine. You're saying that there are nine of you?" Kathryn was astonished and shocked. "How does that work?"

B'Elanna made some manual adjustments and began moving her bed. "Kathryn, do you really want to know all of this now?"

"I… No. I suppose not. But it must be explained to me later."

"Agreed." The bed clicked together with Ro Laren's unit. Then B'Elanna went to examine Seven of Nine's bio-bed. "You have her on a regenerator? This...is good. It will help." The Klingon bent, took Seven of Nine's hand in her own and whispered something into her mate's ear.

Then she went back to Ro Laren's bed, unclamped the stationary controls and began pushing her bed and Ro's toward Seven. All without any apparent physical effort. The beds clicked together. Ro Laren instantly turned and clasped Seven of Nine to her.

"She...isn't awake."

"She knew. We always know where we are in relation to each other."

"So it's a telepathic bond."

"It's more like an empathic bond. But Tuvok and T'Pel are Vulcan. And Lwaxana is Betazoid. And then there was what the makers of the Maze did to us. It was...inevitable."

"I..." Kathryn realized she had no possible answer or comment to make to that. But she did have an immediate question. "Who is the ninth?"

"Ezri Dax." B'Elanna felt a tiny smile tug at her lips. "She's a Trill."

Kathryn had no idea who that was, though the name also sounded vaguely familiar. "How did you all get together?"

"It's a long story, Kathryn."

"Right. Right. Sorry."

B'Elanna hopped back on the bed and looked at Kathryn with a deep, dark vision. "You never did answer my question. Where is the Doc?"

"I asked him to give us a little privacy. I wanted to see if you were really..."

"We are. Just not of this universe."

"I gathered." Kathryn snorted in amusement.

"I'm glad to hear he's okay. He's one of the godparents of our children after all." B'Elanna closed her eyes and began to lie back down.

"Children?"

"Another long story, Kathryn." The Klingon rolled closer to her mates, clasping Ro Laren tightly to her, and reaching to touch Seven. The Bajoran appeared to be trying to blend herself into both Seven and the Half-Klingon.

"You...rest up. I'll take care of the rest."

"Thank you, Kathryn. I'm glad you found us."

"As am I."

==^==

They were awake. The alertness came upon the completion of Seven of Nine's regeneration cycle hours later. As soon as Seven's eyes opened, theirs did too.

The Doctor fussed around them, running his medical tricorder over them. "Hmm."

No one commented on his failure to communicate. They simply continued their process of helping each other from prone to standing. When he finally spoke, it was with concern. "Indications are that you are functional, but I'd prefer it if you took a few days to recuperate before trying to solve your…problem."

Seven turned a dark azure gaze upon him. "We will comply."

He noticed then that all of them were looking at him with that same pain filled intensity.

Truthfully, he hadn't expected them to say yes. Normally when he gave advice everyone tried race back to work. He finally cleared his throat. "Well, good. I have some news about the guest quarters, which I hope you won't take amiss, but we wanted to be sure that Seven of Nine had access to the regeneration alcoves. With the permission of our Seven of Nine, bunks have been set up in cargo bay two. Captain Janeway has given you permission, as you're able, to adjust your living circumstances since they are quite primitive at the moment." He looked apologetic. "Unfortunately, while you were unconscious, we were attacked and did not have time to…"

B'Elanna raised her hand. "You don't need to explain. I just can't believe we slept through an attack."

Now the Doctor looked somewhat sheepish. "I felt you needed the sleep. I spiked your punch, so to speak."

They looked at each other, and then said the most amazing thing. "You were probably right."

With that astonishing statement, they debarked from the bio-beds. They noticed that they had been given robes, and began helping each other into them. Then they shocked him again. "When would you like us to come back for check ups?"

His first thought, before he answered was, these people really are from another universe.

==^==

They stood in front of the alcoves, just looking at them. B'Elanna finally commented. "I cannot believe that we let you live like this for as long as we did." Her fingers caressed Seven of Nine's back.

Seven looked over at the bunks and then at her mates. "This is unacceptable."

"However," said Laren, "We probably shouldn't change anything until we've had a chance to coordinate with this Universe's Seven of Nine."

"Agreed."

B'Elanna tapped the communicator on her robe. "Lt. Commander B'Elanna Torres of the House Presba to Seven of Nine"

They were amused when Seven's badge chirped in response. They were even more amused when the other Seven of Nine's voice responded. Apparently the computer simply chose to split the difference. "I am here. How may I assist you Lieutenant Commander?"

"We are about to change around the cargo bay. Would you like to have some say in things?"

"Clarify?"

B'Elanna flashed a look at her mates. "How big do you want your room? And with how much soundproofing? I'm sure by now you realize my mates and I are not celibate."

There was a pause. "I will be right there. Seven out."

"You are a cruel, cruel woman, B'Elanna Torres." Laren shook her head in admiration.

==^==

By the time Seven of Nine arrived to join them, The Mistress of House Presba had commandeered the console and was quickly developing schematics. B'Elanna and Laren stood close by, observing with quiet intensity. They looked up when the other blonde arrived. Their Borg wife did not. However, being naturally polite, she did greet the other woman. "Seven of Nine, thank you for coming."

The other blonde slowed to a halt and finally stopped, dropping naturally into her at ease stance. "You wished to have my input?"

"Indeed. We are currently in the process of planning, would you join us?"

B'Elanna Torres moved until she was standing beside Laren, which allowed her to still be able to see the console, but also made room for the other Seven.

"So, tell me, Chesei, is there any chance of getting a bed like yours?" Laren casually asked, "Or at least like the one you made for Ezri?"

Seven raised her ocular implant and looked over at the stacked bunks. "It would be more efficient to create only one bed."

B'Elanna laughed. "That's what I love about you, Be'nal. Your incredible capacity for efficiency in the service of hedonism."

Seven merely smirked, and continued to input data in the console. In the reflection on the console, she became aware that her counterpart was looking at B'Elanna and Laren with a distinct air of curiosity. It was quite illuminating. Was that how she appeared when she had wanted to ask a question but was unsure as to the receptivity of the other party?

She weighed her options, and then signaled to her mates. "I require a moment with my counterpart, perhaps you could check the status of the shuttle since we will undoubtedly utilize it today? Fifteen minutes should be sufficient."

Both mates regarded her somewhat oddly, but nodded, B'Elanna doing the actual responding. "We will comply." Cheekily, she blew a kiss to the Borg and joined her hand with Laren's, tugging the taller Bajoran along with her.

The doors had slid shut behind her banished mates, Seven turned to back to the console. She worked steadily for several minutes, and waited for her counterpart's body language to relax. A minute after that, she stated, "You wish to ask me a question."

"Define the term chesei."

"It is a Bajoran affectionate designation meaning sweetheart." In her mind she felt she knew what the next line of query would be, and decided that she had an opportunity to direct the conversation. "My mates are fond of affectionate designations, and employ several. Some are used only among certain individuals, for example, B'Elanna Torres is the only one to whom I refer as Bang'wI."

"It seems inefficient."

"When Laren referred to me as chesei, everyone knew whom she was addressing. Had she referred to me by my correct designation the possibility for confusion existed."

"May I ask another personal question?"

"You may." There was a pause, and a familiar tilt of a head, and Seven smiled slightly. When the question was not immediately forthcoming, she continued as though it had, all the while making calculations and entering data. "You wish to ask about my relationship with B'Elanna Torres."

"That is correct. But I am unsure how to proceed."

Seven smiled softly to herself. "You are attracted to your B'Elanna Torres."

"Affirmative. But our relationship is antagonistic, whereas yours is romantic in nature. I wish to know how you achieved that state."

"It required much effort on my part."

The doors slid open, Laren and B'Elanna returning from their errand. B'Elanna smiled softly, "I looked at her one day, and knew. She was my whole world, my universe. I realized that I would know her anywhere, find her anywhere. I was hers." Her grin grew more full. "Resistance was futile."

Seven met her gaze warmly, but remained silent, knowing that B'Elanna would become embarrassed if she responded verbally. Instead she used their bond to embrace her mate, and fingered, "I love you, Bang'wI."

"Have you taken the Oath?"

"We have." Seven was pleased, the brief absence of her mates had allowed her counterpart to become comfortable in her presence and she was now conversing adequately. "Is this an acceptable design?"

Her counterpart took a moment to study the design, and lifted her ocular implant momentarily, then nodded. "Affirmative. That is why your designation includes House Presba?"

No one seemed disturbed by the multiple thread switches in the conversation.

"It is. I am the Mistress of the House."

"Explain."

B'Elanna noticed Seven's discrete request for her to answer so she did. "I am the Epatai of House Presba. Seven of Nine is the Mistress of House Presba."

"And Ro Laren?"

"I'm a sex slave."

"Laren," there was just a hint of reproach in Seven's voice, "…is our beloved Mate."

"You are involved in a plural marriage, are you not?"

"That is correct. We have other mates who are not here."

Laren thought she understood what her mate was up to, so she continued her teasing comments. "The lovely Lady Seven has been most efficient in assimilating Voyager's senior staff."

B'Elanna laughed.

Seven created a three-dimensional image, and moved so that her counterpart could see it more clearly. "I was merely efficient in my dating protocols."

"You can accomplish that design?"

The Mistress of the House Presba raised her brow and said, "You would be very surprised at what I can do."

==^==

The problem with cargo bays and other large storage areas was that such places easily fell into disorder. The area immediately surrounding the Borg alcoves and the small workspace next to them was, as always, pristine, but this did not mean that the rest of the area was. Whenever Seven of Nine did try to organize the space she was often chastised for the effort by maintenance, engineering and whomever else thought it was their business. It was, however, never the Captain. Captain Janeway had other things to think about than the cargo bay. Seven had learned to adapt.

The Seven from the other Universe, on the other hand, did not care if she was going to be chastised or not. It was inefficient to wait. And thus, she, her mates and her counterpart, began the process of setting the cargo bay into a new, more efficient pattern, one that included two decks, both for their personal quarters and for the compartments and components that would be utilized in the cargo bay for organizational purposes.

"I do not know if Captain Janeway will appreciate your methodology."

"What Kathryn does not know will not hurt her," said Laren.

"Besides, she told us we could set it up how we desired. It's not the method, it's the result." B'Elanna waved a spanner in the air.

Laren noticed the other woman was staring at B'Elanna at that moment as if she had grown two heads. "Given the way she's looking at you, I'm guessing we should expect a visit from the Chief Engineer at some point."

"It is certain. B'Elanna Torres has strong opinions in matters of ship construction." Seven of Nine paused. "And in the order of approval versus implementation."

"I just bet," laughed the Klingon, not surprised in the least that she would have that in common with her counterpart, or that this Seven of Nine's humour would be as dry as her wife's. "Well, if she bothers you about this, you send her my way. We'll get that issue solved real quick." Then she spoke in Klingon, "Do not tell others what cannot be done while they are doing it." She grinned and spoke in standard again. "It's an old Klingon saying."

The work continued apace. When some of the crew wandered in, obviously taking the chance that a certain Borg beauty would be regenerating, a Bajoran took their intrusion quite personally. Laren confronted them.

"Exactly what purpose brings you here?" Aside from the unfriendly body language, the growl that accompanied that question was enough to set anyone's hair on end. It also forced an answer from the surprised visitors. Those individuals that indicated that they had previously had nothing better to do except to stand around and Borg-gaze, were roped into the habitat building and cargo bay renovation.

Seven of Nine, who was used to hiding her innate strength from her crew mates so as not to intimidate others, gave up the effort as futile when she observed that the other women deemed it irrelevant as to whether other people were aware that they could lift things that were incredibly heavy.

In the end, and in an unexpectedly short period of time given the extensiveness of the procedure, the cargo bay was partitioned in such a way as to be habitable, enjoyable, and useful. Even those who at first had participated unwillingly were proud of the accomplishment.

==^==

The trio followed Seven of Nine to the mess hall, lingering a step behind to converse, and also because this was her ship. So when the doors slid open, they were not immediately visible to the other occupants, and Seven was able to clearly discern the responses her counterpart's arrival provoked. B'Elanna felt the change in her mate immediately, and realized exactly what had happened. Her own Presban-enhanced, Klingon hearing allowed her to catch a couple of the comments before the entire room fell silent as they came into view.

Laren, her hearing not as acute as that of her mates, needed only her intellect and her time spent among the denizens of the lower decks to know what had just happened. The hurt radiating from her mate had to be nothing compared to what this universe's Seven of Nine was enduring. Striding forward, she came abreast of Seven of Nine, and placed her hand on the small of the blonde's back. "Where would you like to sit?"

"I do not require a nutritional supplement at this time."

Laren smiled, "That is not what I asked. How about we sit over here." In Presban, she addressed her mates. "My beloveds, if you would be so kind?"

Seven exchanged a glance with B'Elanna, and raised her eyebrow.

B'Elanna sighed heavily, and slid her arm around her mate's waist. "You know. I think she's even more isolated than you were." Together they walked to the kitchen service window, continuing to converse in Presban, since Laren obviously had chosen it over finger speak for a reason. She looked down at the offerings, and tried to block the unappetizing smell. "I miss Icheb."

Seven smiled. "You miss his cooking." Her smile faltered as the conversational buzz increased again, and a new round of jokes and innuendo was directed at her counterpart, and that now included them. "This is unacceptable." She clenched her fist.

"You know what, Be'nal? If you can't beat them, join 'em." B'Elanna spun Seven toward her and drew her mate's head down so that their lips met. She held nothing back, nibbling, licking and teasing the soft, succulent flesh, allowing their tongues to meet and play. B'Elanna let the kiss taper off, her breathing somewhat ragged, and guided Seven to where Laren waited with Seven of Nine. She took the seat next to the Bajoran and forcefully pulled the blonde onto her lap, kissing her again hungrily. With her free hand she pulled Laren to them and included her in the embrace, all three of them pressing into the exchange of velvety kisses. When B'Elanna judged there had been a sufficient period of silence, she pulled back, but did not completely disengage from the contact.

Across the table from them, Seven of Nine's eyes were wide, her skin slightly flushed, and the Klingon winked at her, before turning her head in the general direction of the rest of the mess hall. "Now I believe you have something to talk about." Then she growled.

==^==

The Doctor, who had heard a rumor of a great deal of activity happening in the cargo bay made his way there. He entered the facility to find that it had been completely renovated.

Where there had been chaos, there was now order. Walls, walkways, and well-organized bins had also been added, while the console had been removed from its previous location and relocated closer to the entrance. He spotted the living space quickly because there was the recognizably familiar quarter's doorway and there were walls which rose from floor to ceiling. The alcoves were no longer open to public view.

He approved.

But, at the same time, he had a word or two he wanted to say to those who were supposed to be resting.

==^==

Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres woke from what had been a fairly restorative sleep to find that a great deal of power had been re-routed to Cargo Bay 2, and that the ship's energy stores had taken a large hit.

"God damn it. How many times do I have to tell you to ask first?" Her unintentionally loud snarl woke Miral, and she took a deep breath to calm herself before picking her daughter up from her crib.

"Hey, joq'wI" She kissed the tiny forehead ridges and watched as her daughter blinked the sleep from her eyes. "Let's get you some food, before I take you to Neelix."

She had the routine down pat. In short order, Miral was fed, bathed, dressed for the day and they were on their way to the mess hall.

The doors parted, and she was immediately aware that the room was unaccountably quiet. A quick survey gave her both the likely reason and a near coronary.

B'Elanna didn't know whether to shield her daughter's eyes, or rub her own in disbelief at the sight of her counterpart providing seating for, and hand feeding a very content looking version of Seven of Nine.

"Hello, little one." Neelix greeted her daughter, and B'Elanna gave her to the Talaxian, her eyes still locked on the show.

And it was a hell of show. She swallowed, and decided not to let the presence of the alternate Universe women deter her, stalking over to their table. She had no difficulty identifying which of the blonde ex-drones to address. B'Elanna picked the one not ensconced on a Klingon lap. "What have I told you about re-routing power without proper authorization?"

"On one thousand and fifty-nine occasions you have indicated that it is not acceptable." Seven of Nine's tone was chilled, her back a fraction stiffer than it had been.

"Then why the hell do you still do it?"

Seven of Nine had thought that would have been obvious. The reason rarely changed. "Because you are in error."

"Listen you arrogant Borg…" She stopped mid-invective. Her alternate universe counterpart and companions were laughing. "What in Kahless' name are you laughing at?"

"You two." The more youthful version of herself answered. "Shall we Be'nal?" After a small pause, and a seemingly unspoken communication, she spoke again, loudly. "This ship is not your personal playground. If you want resources, then god damn well put a request in through proper channels!"

"Inefficient."

"I don't give a damn about what you think is efficient. You can't just go around taking what you want. Oh, wait. That's exactly what you do, and it has to stop."

"The Captain authorized the expenditure."

Both women were standing now, facing each other, and Torres had no idea what to say, it was like she had fallen into a bizarre dream or weird alternate reality. Which, she realized, was pretty much what had happened, only it had happened to them, not her. It didn't change how utterly surreal the whole thing was. She looked over at her Seven of Nine, and wasn't the slightest bit surprised to see the ocular implant had nearly disappeared into the blonde's hairline.

A set of insults were exchanged in Klingon and in a language the translator was unable to decipher, so she didn't get the exact meaning of all the words, but the tone clearly conveyed that they were superlative insults.

The next thing Torres knew, her counterpart and Seven of Nine's were smiling; the Klingon more fully than the Borg. But it was unmistakably a smile gracing the blonde's lips, and it took her from beautiful to stunning. She wondered what this ship's Seven of Nine would look like if she smiled.

"Was it good for you, Be'nal?"

"Most invigorating, Bang'wI. Perhaps we should retire to our quarters and continue the discussion there?"

Without a further word, they turned and left the mess hall.

B'Elanna watched them leave, and then turned back to the table. "What the hell just happened?"

The Bajoran, who had stifled her own laugher with great difficulty, looked between the two women, trying her best to give them a look that was both knowing and meaningful. "Foreplay." Then Laren got up and followed her mates from the hall, aware that she had left some very pensive women in her wake.

==^==

"Captain Janeway to Lt. Commander Ro Laren."

Two strides from the turbo-lift, she stopped and hit the communicator on her jacket lapel. "Ro Laren here, Captain."

"Would you report to my ready room, please?"

"On my way." The device chirped and the channel shut down. Laren entered the lift, trying to puzzle out the tone and words, which had both been mild, and somewhat non-informative. A combination that spelled trouble with her Kathryn, but one which she had no data for here. "Deck one."

Exiting the turbo-lift on the bridge, she faltered in her stride. Tuvok met her gaze and nodded, and she nodded back, taking unexpected solace from his silent acknowledgment. Another half-step and she stopped altogether.

Her counterpart sat in the Captain's chair wearing command red, three solid pips affixed to her collar, long brunette hair hanging around her shoulders. "Commander." She said the greeting and felt ridiculous, unable suddenly to fathom how both Seven and B'Elanna had managed to deal with alternate versions of themselves without apparent difficulty.

A small smile, and a bob of a head communicated that her counterpart found it just as awkward, and not a little amusing. "Lt. Commander. The Captain is expecting you, go on in."

"Thank you." She turned toward the ready room, and got another shock. Lt. Stadi, who had died in the initial incident with the Kazon, was sitting at the helm. Laren decided the first thing she was going to do when she got back to the cargo bay was to check the crew roster.

The door opened and she stepped inside, taking instinctive note of the similarities and differences. "Captain." In front of the desk, she stood at ease, hands behind her back.

"You are the ranking officer among your companions, are you not?"

Laren thought about that, and decided, somewhat gratefully, that no, she wasn't. "No, Captain. Lt. Commander Torres is the senior officer." She played a hunch that this Kathryn was as resistant to being called sir or ma'am as hers.

Janeway stood, and then moved to the replicator. "Coffee, black. Anything for you?"

"A Bajoran ginger tea, please."

Her tea was handed to her and she took the seat she was directed to. "Thank you."

"You might not be the senior officer, but since I have you here, I'm going to gamble that you, like my First Officer, are a reasonable, even-tempered woman."

Laren grinned. "I can be."

Janeway produced her familiar half-smile, and Laren felt her heart clench even though she knew, on many levels, that this was not her mate, not her Kathryn.

"I'm not completely sure what the standards of behaviour are on your Voyager, but on this one, what happened in the mess hall this morning is unacceptable."

Laren felt her even-temper slide to rough. "So caring, loving, respectful behaviour between individuals is not allowed, but referring to a fellow crew member as a fuckcicle is? " She leaned forward, "If you don't mind the impartial observation, that's beyond screwed up."

Janeway blanched, and then the command mask slammed back into place. "You will keep any overtly sexual behavior to private spaces, is that clear?"

"Yes, Captain." Laren took a long drink of her tea. "Did you know that eight crew members made it a point to enter Cargo Bay 2 during the night specifically to observe Seven of Nine? They made a most…opportune workforce."

The only immediate response was a darkening to grey of Janeway's normally blue eyes, followed by a long sip of coffee.

Perhaps this universe's Kathryn Janeway wasn't so different from her own after all. She recognized the pensive look and the flash of guilt, and Laren settled back, fully prepared to listen to whatever came next.

==^==

Despite appearances in the mess hall and the deliberately provocative behaviour, their exit did not immediately lead to passionate lovemaking. The desire was, as always, an ever present undercurrent, but also present was the painful awareness that they were incomplete.

The doors to their new quarters parted, and they took the lift to right, touching lightly, each locked into thoughts of their own. Together they disrobed, and then crawled onto the large bed. While it was neither as luxurious as Ezri's, nor as large and decadent as Seven's, it was still a wonder.

They lay wrapped together, idly stroking each other, soothing as yet unspoken hurts, and healing wounds old and new.

"What happened in the mess hall, it's like what happened the night Tom punched the marine isn't it?" B'Elanna knew the rough details of the altercation, and felt that it was something they needed to talk about directly.

Seven considered her response. "It was similar." She tried a distraction technique. "Your solution was more efficient than that of Tom Paris."

B'Elanna propped herself up on both elbows, and looked directly into Seven's eyes. "I am so sorry. I know a lot of it was my fault." A mesh tipped finger touched her lips and stilled her speech.

"It is in the past."

"But it was still wrong, and I'm sorry."

Seven gazed at her mate, able to feel B'Elanna's sorrow and guilt, surprised to feel an unquantifiable lightening in her mind, along with a constriction in her throat. The first, she put aside for later; the second she let run its course, burying herself against B'Elanna, and for the first-time in her adult life cried for her own pain.

==^==

It had been an astonishing couple of days, full of revelations that were, as of yet, incomplete, but which nonetheless affected her greatly. Maybe that was why she did what she did next, or maybe it was the familiar shades of who was sitting in front of her. Regardless, Kathryn didn't stop to think about it, and she just pushed on, letting the words spill out. "There's no home to go back to. No Federated Planets, no Klingon Empire, no Romulan Oligarchy. Nothing. It's all been obliterated by Dominion forces."

Laren swallowed her own reaction. "You haven't told them have you?"

The Bajoran's words were even, the tone non-judgmental, and she fully understood why the other Janeway had married her. That she had married Seven of Nine also made perfect, though painful, sense. The others much less so, at least from her current perspective. But Kathryn doubted that the other Janeway felt the need to hide things from her spouses, even if they were a large part of her senior staff. "No."

"Your Seven of Nine knows though, doesn't she?" Laren made a guess, based partly on intuition and partly on her understanding of procedure.

Kathryn exhaled sharply, the sound almost, but not quite, a laugh. "She decrypted the final message from the Pathfinder project." Janeway took a gulp of her coffee, surprised that it had gotten cold. She changed the subject. "If you're not the senior officer, what do you do?" The woman was not in uniform, and it occurred to the Captain that perhaps the Bajoran was a counselor in the alternate universe, an occupation that would put an immediate end to this conversation.

When the other woman raised her eyes, her nose ridges lifted at the same time, and Janeway realized that this Ro Laren was also much less reserved, and much more animated than her counterpart.

"I'm Commodore Janeway's adjutant." Laren smiled. "Which is a fancier way of saying I'm Captain Janeway's lead administrative assistant."

"Lead assistant?"

Laren allowed the change in topic, seeing an opportunity to plant some seeds of her own. B'Elanna shouldn't be the only one having fun.

==^==

Seven of Nine, late of the Borg Collective, and currently exploring humanity as the Astrometrics Officer aboard the FSS Voyager, proceeded, with precision, to navigate from the mess hall to the cargo bay.

Despite her apparent precision and orderly progression, her internal state was neither orderly nor precise.

Much new data had been presented to her and she needed to process the information and conduct research into the relevant topics.

In particular, she very much desired to comprehend why Ro Laren had designated the verbal confrontation between her mates as foreplay, and why, in turn, Lt. B'Elanna Torres' body temperature had elevated by one point three degrees Celsius, while her heart rate had increased by two hundred and eleven percent.

She also wanted to know what the Epatai and Mistress of House Presba had found so humourous.

Perhaps she would be able to inquire of Lady Seven directly. Her counterpart had indicated a willingness to answer her questions, and though she could tell they were very different individuals, she was also aware that they communicated with each other efficiently and directly.

It was pleasant to converse with Lady Seven. Philosophical discussions with her counterpart would not be irrelevant.

Arriving at her destination she entered first the cargo bay, and then the interior doors to her private quarters. Unsure of what to do in the unfamiliar setting, she stepped onto the lift that was to her left, and rode it to the next level where her rooms were located.

On the way up, she looked down through the grill-like grating of the lift and could see the alcoves that were tucked away in the common area of the first floor. Two had been rendered functional, and she wondered if, when they regenerated simultaneously, there would be a link between their neural transceivers, or if the technology would be function in an unexpected manner due to its origins.

She mentally added it to her task list, and crossed to her new desk. A chair was tucked discretely to the side, in the event of a guest, but the console had been laid out and designed to be worked at in a standing position.

Seven paused in mid-entry. The acknowledgment that she preferred to stand was what she knew was referred to as a considerate gesture. She reflected back over the last twelve hours and made note of the instances of consideration she had received from the trio of displaced officers.

Putting aside her personal queries for later, she accessed the Borg database on dimensional mechanics.

Consideration was not irrelevant.

==^==

Laren paused at the door to their bedroom, then leaned against the frame, eyes and ears drinking in the sight and sounds within the room. Through their bond she could feel the wash of passion. It wrapped around her with its warmth, including her, but not pulling her in with them.

This moment was theirs and she was their witness.

As though they had been awaiting her arrival, Seven rose from B'Elanna's arms, her paler thighs straddling the Klingon's duskier ones.

Seven felt B'Elanna's hands move her waist, encircling her with their rough heat, guiding her motion. She rose with their urging, and fell with her own, setting a slow, rhythmic pace, that brought them deeply into one another.

She tilted her head back, felt her hair fall over her shoulders and brush the edges of the implant that still wound its way around her torso, pressing into and onto B'Elanna as she arched. Her feet were parallel to her mate's legs and she reached back, grabbing her own ankles for leverage, needing to be fully possessed even as she fully claimed her lover. "jIH dok."

B'Elanna lifted her hips from the bed, translating her mass into momentum as she tried to drive them together; tried to make true of the flesh what was true of the mind and soul. Seven's finger's left their impassioned circling of her breasts, but left behind the touch of her mind, and she rose even higher from the bed as Seven arced her back and pulled them both toward perfection. "maj dok."

They moved in opposite directions, but still in tandem and slammed back against each other, both breathing the words as exhalations of pleasure. "Tlinghan jiH."

Still moving together, they shifted suddenly, Seven pulling B'Elanna upright, their mouths meeting for a long electric instant before lips became cheeks. Teeth flashed and flesh parted, warmth and life spilling into and out of them as they crested, howling, pulling Laren along, commanding her to follow, to see, to feel.

The fire within them ignited.

They burned.

==^==

Deciding it was high time to see what had been wrought in the cargo bay during her off-duty cycle, Lt. B'Elanna Torres, gamma-Voyager's Chief Engineer stepped through the automatically triggered doors and stopped in astonishment.

Astonished enough she forgot to be angry, and had to settle for impressed.

And, if she were pressed, on pain of death, she would admit to a certain amount of relief that the alcoves were no longer open to public view.

The ex-drone's near death had made her aware that many crew members spent an inappropriate period of time in the cargo bay during the blonde's regeneration cycle. Unfortunately, that same near death experience had also stripped the Borg of the presence of the one individual whose clandestine nocturnal visits to the cargo bay acted as a deterrent to the less scrupulous.

B'Elanna sometimes wondered if Seven regretted the cost. One of their few civil conversations had been about death, and she knew that the Borg had not wanted to die, but she had admired the grace with which Seven had faced the possibility.

She'd never told the woman that she had heard the argument with Janeway, and had heard the promise to take her home. After that she had expected that Janeway would finally do what everyone had assumed would happen almost since the day Seven had arrived. She hadn't.

Instead, the life Janeway had taken to save Seven's had come between them, and they no longer interacted socially at all. Not that she had thought that bothered the ice queen in the slightest. Love was an emotion. An irrelevant emotion according to Seven of Nine. One she hadn't had the slightest doubt that the drone was incapable of feeling. Until this morning.

Watching the alternate universe versions of herself, Ro Laren and the Borg interact in the mess hall, not to mention the wild stories about what had happened before she arrived, put a dent in her theory. Assimilated was assimilated. And no matter how confusing the end of the encounter had been, the scene she'd walked in on made it blatantly obvious. The AU version of Seven of Nine was loved, and loved deeply in return.

"Lt. B'Elanna Torres, how may I be of assistance?"

"God damn it, Seven! Don't sneak up on people like that."

"I will comply."

B'Elanna looked at her suspiciously, trying to decide if this was her Seven or the other one. "You do that. Where are you going in such a hurry, anyway? I'd have thought you'd be decorating or something."

"I am required to be elsewhere."

Before B'Elanna could rib the ex-drone about her lack of precision, it became obvious why Seven of Nine felt the need to be elsewhere.

It also became apparent why the crewmen on deck 9, section 12 complained about noise. B'Elanna could feel her cheeks redden, even though she knew it wasn't her.

She looked at blonde, who raised her ocular implant. "Your counterpart appears to have superior lung capacity."

There was another long drawn-out moan, accompanied by a sharp demand, or what she supposed would have been a demand if it had been translatable.

B'Elanna folded her arms over her chest. "Yeah, well, yours ain't no slouch in the decibel department either."

"I believe that is an accurate observation."

They stood together for a minute, in fascinated thrall.

"Lt. B'Elanna Torres?"

"I swear, Seven, if you ask me if you can ask a personal question right now, I'm going to fire your Borg ass out of the nearest airlock."

"I was not."

B'Elanna sighed. "What do you want, Seven?"

"I was merely going to suggest that now might be an appropriate time to engage in an alternate activity. Elsewhere."

B'Elanna looked over at Seven again. Was she blushing? She shook her head to clear the thoughts playing havoc with her imagination. "That's the first thing I've heard you say all day that made sense." Jerking thumb in the direction of the door, she said, "C'mon, I'll buy you nutritional supplement pi theta four."

"That would be acceptable."

They turned for the door and exited one after another. B'Elanna tapped her communicator. "Computer, place a level four privacy seal on Cargo Bay 2, authorization Torres omega eta three." Noticing the odd look the Borg was giving her, she waved her hand at the door. "Can't have Naomi wandering in there looking for a game of kadis kot."

Seven looked at the Klingon, and raised her implant. She had not been aware that B'Elanna Torres knew of Naomi's visits.

"After you."

"Indeed."

==^==

It was fortunate that the Doctor had indicated the necessity for rest, as it meant no one noted their absence. The mating fire which claimed them roared through them at its normal pace. They were able to satiate its burn enough to enter the common area, dressed in robes, so that they could eat and refresh themselves. On the dining table they found a precisely and carefully worded note requesting that their quarters be improved with more soundproofing. It was already pre-authorized by the engineer.

"I thought we installed your decibel suppressor?" B'Elanna looked up from the note in confusion. She was positive she'd built one.

"We did. We failed to turn it on."

Laren had to laugh, "Oh Prophets. Poor Seven of Nine. We're going to have to do something special for her."

"We shall," agreed Seven. "We will help her acclimate. She is still ingesting supplements when she should be enjoying her meals."

"Well, I can't say I blame her. They're still, ah, not quite cooking things well around here."

"Have we accumulated sufficient replicator rations to prepare a meal?" Seven checked with Laren, who had an incredible knack of tracking such essentials.

"Yes, and I also cheated a little. I've replicated each of our preferred uniforms from the replicator in Kate's shuttle. That way we can wear our uniforms and not draw on Voyager's supplies too much."

"I take it you don't feel like blending in?"

"After the mess hall incident? No." B'Elanna turned to Seven, her tone gentle, but firm. "I don't want you going back to those bio-suits."

"I will not." In truth, she had not intended to, but she knew B'Elanna was merely expressing a concern disguised as an order. It was an easy enough one to obey. Seven paused, as if adding a new thing to her mental to do list. "But I will also make some adaptations to the replicator, if you do not mind, my mate."

"Be my guest, Be'nal. This isn't my ship."

Laren shook her head. "You're terrible."

"I know."

"But, building on that thought, I do have something that needs to be discussed." Laren interjected.

"During dinner perhaps? I'm starving." B'Elanna looked about. "Oh, and I suppose we ought to contact Seven of Nine and let her know she can come back. We'll put the suppressor on this time."

"Agreed."

==^==

They sat around the table, which was set for four in case Seven of Nine chose to join them, and enjoyed their meal. They went with Italian, with a communal salad bowl, spaghetti bowl, carafes of compatible drinks and a large bread basket from which to draw. The dessert was in an opaque, square stasis-container. Clever use of rations and alternation between replicator libraries had produced everything they needed.

Then, speaking in Presban, Laren brought up the realities of this particular Universe.

"Completely destroyed?"

"They utilized biogenetic warfare on top of their usual methods. They wiped out the quadrants. There is nothing to go home to and whole sectors are completely poisoned, possibly for centuries."

"Kahless."

"Captain Janeway hasn't told anyone. But Seven of Nine knows."

"It would be a heavy burden."

"It has been." Laren paused. Then she said, "We had an interesting discussion. Janeway has authorized me to build her a team."

B'Elanna grinned. "What would she do without you?"

"Well, in this universe, she would have been dead many times over. Apparently my alternate was in command of the Maquis ship. Chakotay died during that first battle with the Kazon, as did Seska."

"Well, thank god for small favors."

Seven of Nine looked at the Klingon. B'Elanna, unrepentant, painted her bread with butter. "What? I was talking about Seska. She was nothing but trouble."

"I thought you were her friend."

"When she was Bajoran, I was."

The Borg managed not to roll her eyes. "I love you, my mate, but your ability to carry two conflicting beliefs about the same person continues to astound me."

The Klingon set her bread down and leaned over and kissed Seven. She pulled back and said, "It's just part of my charm, Be'nal."

That was when Seven of Nine re-entered their quarters.

==^==

"Would you care to join us?" Laren stood up and indicated the place setting. The Borg glanced at the women, who were sharing their meal and understood the offer.

"I regret to say that I have already had my nutritional intake for the day." Despite her words, Seven of Nine did not appear particularly regretful.

Laren smiled then, "Well, come join us for some talk and maybe a little dessert."

"I will comply."

Laren held the extra seat out for Seven of Nine and then took her own. Then, she said, "We talked about several things while you were away."

The Borg woman sat somewhat stiffly, but there was still a spark that they all recognized as humor in her expression. "I do not believe what you were doing was entirely composed of talking."

B'Elanna laughed outright. "Ha!" Then she grinned. "Well, that would be true and we got your note. We'll take care of it before we continue later."

"You are not finished?" Seven of Nine was obviously appalled.

Seven answered, "You will not have to exit the premises again. But no, the mating fire still burns us. We are merely taking a break."

"The mating fire?"

"It is a physical and psychic compulsion that is a result of the bond."

"Explain."

Seven did so, providing practical details, without being overly prurient, to the fascinated Borg. But it did lead to more questions, which led to more answers. Before long, Seven of Nine knew of the story of the Maze of Mines.

"It explains the divergences. We never traversed that sector. Our journey took us in a different direction." Seven paused, and then opted to choose a different topic. "Captain Janeway authorized access to your shuttle's records. I witnessed certain conversations and your copulation."

"We were aware."

The Borg woman let some of the tension in her body ebb away. "There was mention of children. B'Elanna Torres has a child, but only one."

Seven nodded. "Our children are a diverse group. My children are liberated Borg like ourselves. They originate from several species. I adopted them before the bonding. Also, my mate Lwaxana's son is part of our immediate family unit. The other children of our mates are adults."

"You miss them."

"Very much."

"I would like to know more."

B'Elanna shot a glance at her Seven and smiled softly, "Well, now we know Mezoti comes by it honestly."

==^==

The conversation continued and took several turns. "We would like to, at another time, discuss the possibility of borrowing on your expertise. We have a way to get back, which needs approval from Captain Janeway, but we already know it is an effective method." Seven asked her counterpart.

Seven of Nine's ocular implant rose. "I am currently investigating Borg data and related theories on dimensional mechanics. Have you advanced theory into practice?"

Laren answered. "Yes. Our Voyager has a Trans-Universal Engine."

"Intriguing. Do you wish to adapt your shuttle?"

"We did. But now we wish to equip Voyager with a TUE."

Now they unequivocally had Seven of Nine's complete attention. She looked at them very intensely, then relaxed yet another notch. "You know."

==^==

They spent some time discussing the situation and the options that were originally available. "I comprehend her reasons. Events have not conspired for an appropriate time to make the announcement. The crew, however, are aware that a significant amount of time has passed since the last Pathfinder message was received." She paused "I believe that Commander Ro Laren suspects, but I can not confirm it."

"Do you think Janeway would be open to the idea?"

Seven of Nine looked inward for a moment and asked, "You believe it will succeed?"

"Even if it doesn't, our Kathryn will find us." Laren assured.

The Borg considered, and then her expression lightened. "I will help you compose the presentation."

"Excellent."

"Now that we have reached an agreement," Laren said, smiling. "I want you to try something." The Bajoran lifted the lid off of the dessert platter.

"Brownies. I have seen these. They are avoided in the mess hall."

"That is because they are not being cooked correctly. This, however, is Gretchen Janeway's recipe and we plan to offer them as a bribe to Captain Janeway." Laren grinned as she lifted one free and then handed it to the doubtful Borg. "Try one."

B'Elanna and Seven took the opportunity to snag one for themselves. They bit into their treats as one and hummed appreciatively. The Klingon said, seconds later, "Well, if she won't take them, I will."

"You will not eat the full platter by yourself, Epatai Torres."

"Well, I did plan on sharing."

Seven of Nine did not point out the illogic of Seven's statement. The platter would no longer be full at that point. She did, however, look at the brownie and decide that it would be rude to fail to at least take a bite.

She directed the brownie to her mouth and Laren said, "Not a nibble. A bite."

"As you wish."

She did as directed, taking a good sized bite, then paused and chewed and chewed some more. Seven of Nine looked at them in amazement. Then she said, "We will use these during the presentation."

==^==

Afterward, they parted ways and, as promised, they made sure that the suppressor was set and switched on. But even so, because Seven of Nine was aware that they were engaged in non-reproductive sexual activity, her thoughts were somewhat disturbed. Her perfect memory would contain certain images from the shuttle forever.

She knew that she felt stimulated, and also knew that there were options available. She even, for the first time, had the privacy necessary to experiment, if she cared to.

And she realized that she did.

There had been a time when she had been exploring romantic and sexual interaction in others, though not necessarily with others. She had been at a point of being open to the possibility, but circumstances did not lend themselves well to the option. The adventurous choice of research topic partially had to do with understanding B'Elanna Torres' surprising selection of dating partner and the other, as per usual, was about trying to understand the social underpinnings of her current collective.

Eventually, she determined that such interactions seemed to be superfluous, at least as far as she was concerned. No one had evidenced more than hostility. Except for two. He had died, and she was unavailable.

But, now she understood that her counterpart did not believe such interactions to be irrelevant. In fact, she deemed them most important.

Seven of Nine looked at the bed that had been provided for her by her roommates and realized that it was quite beyond design specifications. She was aware that it was also most likely to reflect a preference of her counterpart, which meant she might find it enjoyable; unlike bio-beds, which she found somewhat uncomfortable, though they were efficient.

She wondered if this bed was efficient.

The blonde leaned forward and stroked her hand over the surface of the sheets and the cover and found them pleasant to the touch. So she pulled it back to reveal the sleeping surface.

Seven of Nine paused, since she usually did not sleep, but regenerated. However, the other Seven had indicated that she used a mixture of methods to remain at her peak. Implied, though not explained in detail, was the belief in sexual self-care. The blonde smiled, remembering the brownie and decided she could trust her counterpart and her mates.

She undid her bio-suit and divested herself of her clothing and shoes, until she was naked. Then, purposefully, she slid onto the silky surface of the bed. The sensation was sensually alerting. Seven looked down at herself and realized that her nipples had hardened with anticipation. She touched one gently, curiously, and stroked it. Pleasurable phenomenon connected the dots of her need.

She had always been aware that she had a number of erogenous points. It was one of the reasons she wore the bio-suit. The suits helped to ease the constant stimulation. But now…

She brushed her fingertips gently over an implant's extrusion and felt the response curl right through her. She gasped, thinking of her counterpart, and the way her mates had lavished attention on those points. She understood such memories to be part of the process of fantasizing, which was also part of the process of self stimulation. It was, according to her studies, permissible. She did not think her counterpart or her mates would mind.

Moisture gathered and her hand drew a slow line downward, crossing her abdominal implant and lower, until her fingers were located where she recalled the alternate B'Elanna had touched the other Seven. She mimicked the movement, and suddenly understood why the other Borg woman had spread her legs so widely.

With her other hand, she touched her other implants, sparking more pleasurable sensations. As she slid on the bed, she half expected to feel waves of incredible physical bliss. But she realized that Seven must have known, must have replicated the sheets from the material that allowed her to just enjoy the feel and texture, without the constant arousal.

Consideration, again.

She felt heat rising on her skin and a kind of deep, sweet tenseness rose within her. She recognized this as another level of arousal and continued what she was doing. Her hips began to move as her fingers strummed more of that feeling into being. She decided to test the premise of fantasy and imagined, just for a moment what it would be like to have this Voyager's B'Elanna touch her in this way. She pressed in, feeling that it would be like the Klingon to want to claim her sexually, while at the same time her thumb continued to stimulate certain nerve bundles. The brief pushing brush of her fingers against the tiny implant within, combined with that moment of fantasy, sparked off a powerful wave of erotic energy that roared through the young woman and claimed her utterly.

She wept for the beauty of it and wondered that she thought for even a moment that it was irrelevant.

==^==

"This is getting ridiculous." B'Elanna exhaled in frustration.

Laren lifted her head and looked over fondly. "What is?"

"I believe, B'Elanna is having trouble with designations, since we have a number that differ only by a rank or not at all."

"No way is anyone calling me Belle."

Seven could not help it; she smirked, honestly unable to imagine using that name to address anyone else except the one-eyed Klingon General, who, in an ironic way, suited the feminine sobriquet.

"I'm not averse to letting Seven complete her assimilation of me, at least while we're here." Laren tweaked on of Seven's nipples.

"Explain."

"I will comply." Laren poked Seven. "Lt. Commander Hansen Laren, at your service."

B'Elanna laughed. "That won't work for me. We'd still have two people on the ship that could be addressed as Commander Hansen."

"Perhaps we should alternate designations." She did not wish to be addressed as Annika Hansen, but she was not averse to using the surname of one of her mates, temporarily or otherwise. Nor did she believe it was reasonable to ask Seven of Nine to alter her designation.

This time B'Elanna smirked. "Explain."

Seven allowed a smile to form, enjoying the banter, no longer feeling set apart by her speech, but loved for it. "I shall assimilate the name Torres."

"What does that leave me? Janeway, Pulaski, Troi, or Dax." B'Elanna finished enumerating the remaining choices and looked at Seven. "Do Tuvok and T'Pel have last names?"

"They do. And even if Lt. Commander Tuvok did not exist aboard this vessel, you would not be able to say it."

"Figures."

Laren was chuckling lightly. "I vote for Dax."

"I concur."

"Oh you do, do you?" B'Elanna pounced on her mates. Her solid weight landed just to the right of the Borg, putting them all on the same side of the bed.

There was a small creaking noise, and then a larger snap.

The bed broke.

==^==

The door chime to her quarters rang, and Janeway looked up, uncertain as to whether she wanted to open it, or pretend to have already retired for the night.

With a sigh, she stood up and retrieved her tunic. "Come in."

She wasn't sure why, but she was surprised when her First Officer stepped into her quarters.

"Captain."

"You used to call me Kathryn, Commander."

"You used to tell me what was going on. I guess times change."

Kathryn studied the brunette for a moment. "Have a seat, Laren. This could take a while."

==^==

"Nothing? There's nothing left?" Ro asked, her tongue thick in her mouth. She had slowly, over the last few months, gotten used to the idea that the Maquis were gone, but that the Dominion had so decisively ended the Federated Planetary Alliance was unbelievable.

"Nothing. They used a scorched earth policy. What isn't occupied is useless."

Ro Laren didn't want to be sitting, but she wasn't sure that she could take standing, not just yet. Not when there was one more question to be asked. Not when she knew what the answer would be. "Bajor?"

"I'm sorry, Laren." Janeway's tone was even, but she could see the tumultuousness in the dark grey pupils.

"The Klingon Empire too?" She couldn't seem to stop asking questions.

"Yes, along with the Romulan Oligarchy." Her voice grew quieter. "Earth too."

Ro looked up, Janeway's family had been on Earth, and an 'I'm sorry for your losses,' didn't seem to begin to cover it. Instead she reached over and squeezed Kathryn's hand.

"I'm going to tell the senior staff in the morning. We've got some decisions to make."

"Wherever you lead, I'll follow."

"And if I still want to go back?"

Laren stared hard at Janeway, trying to decipher the body language, since her expression was non-revealing. "We can't Kathryn, we can't fight a war. Not by ourselves." Then she grinned, her own expression suddenly feral. "At least not yet."

Terok Nor was still a busy place. Tourists now came to see where the judgment battle had occurred, to watch the wormhole open, or to see the woman who had been brought back from the wormhole. The lines to see the Kai were longer on the station. An office had been given to Opaka to help facilitate her efforts. She still roamed the station, where security gently enforced a no-bother policy. If she stopped to talk with someone, it was one thing. But if she was stopped on her way, the person or persons making the disturbance would be discouraged. The station simply could not have passages blocked by over-eager groups of people.

It was possible that Jerrod could simply have moved to the head of the line by mentioning that he was her financial advisor and flashing his credentials. However as his purpose was not business, but curiosity, he simply did not feel it was appropriate. He got in at the back of the line and waited and made plans for tomorrow for a similar effort if that was what it took.

What impressed him the most was that there was a line. After all, what did Bajor need of spiritual counseling? They were a secular world. Still, here he was, along with many others, including unexpected species such as the Klingons.

He noted the Humans among the group, quietly keeping their heads down so no one would note their visible differences. He was sure he was not the only one who spotted them. Yet, no one pushed anyone away.

They were also all oddly quiet, perhaps hoping for an oracular experience. He just wanted to see what it was like. Others, he thought, might be there to test her. He wondered how that was going.

An hour and a half later he was finally at the door. The security man pointed at the person just in front of Jerrod and spoke gruffly. "Your turn. Everyone else go home. She is done for the day."

The line began dispersing. The noise in the station increased as people who had been silent suddenly began talking to one another

"To bad, eh," the person who was behind him said and then moved on.

Jerrod considered his options and then turned away. He was a few steps away when he felt his shoulder clamped strongly. He turned to protest and saw that it was one of the guards. "You. I know you. You're her manager. You come in. Next time don't stand in line. You come to me."

"I didn't want to interrupt."

"Do you or do you not want to see the Kai?"

"I do."

"Then come."

Giving up his effort at anonymity, he followed the guard into the office space. Once inside, he was left to stand at the front of yet another door. The Bajoran who sat in a desk in front of it said, "It will be a few moments. Please sit and be comfortable. She is with someone now."

"Of course."

A few minutes passed and then the door opened. The secretary nodded. "You may go in now."

He realized then, that those whom the Kai greeted must have exited a different way. He had never seen anyone leave. Yet, they must have, unless she was keeping a secret collection.

Amused at the thought of a motley group of people stored in a cubicle, Jerrod stood up. His head filled with whimsical mysteries, he entered Kai Opaka's realm.

==^==

The room had only three soft chairs. Kai Opaka was standing in front of one, dressed in maroon and saffron robes. Her hair was unadorned, but she wore an elaborate D'jarra earring on her right ear. She bowed very slightly to him, equal to equal. "Winn Jerrod, how may I be of service?"

He supposed this was where he was supposed to ask the question in return, but what came out of his mouth was this, "My mother sends her regards. She wished me to convey that she has been…" His voice trailed at the Kai's expression, but he pressed on, "…thinking of you." He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, whether it was happy news or not to the Kai. She looked both pained and at peace about it. It was odd. "She wishes you to know that upon your next visit to Jalanda City she would be honored to have you visit with her." He brought his hands to the front and clasped them lightly in an unconscious defensive motion. "I have come here for a purpose other than business, though, if you need, we may discuss whatever issues may be on your mind."

The Kai, whose attention had seemed far away for a brief heartbeat or two, returned her focus to him. She smiled at his choice of words, finding them familiar. She indicated a chair beside her own. "Please, sit down. Tell me what you would like to discuss."

The chair was placed close, almost intimately so. He sat down, but not back, and felt slightly embarrassed about what he was about to say. "I…" He laughed a bit, then tried again. "You recall when we saw you first, that I was with my mother."

The Kai nodded. "Yes."

"Well, you touched her ear. I realize that it must seem like all anyone must want is an oracular visitation, but I was curious as to what you saw."

Kai Opaka said, "Would it help you if I explained what the Pah is?"

"What is Pah?" He looked slightly confused.

She began to explain.

Later he said, "So it is not the future that you read?"

"No, just lines of possibility and the strength of one's soul."

"Has the…" he considered the choice of his words, "…have you ever been in error?"

Now she sat back and considered. Then she responded, "I have made many mistakes in my own lifetime. But the Pah is always truthful, as it is based on that person's individual path. It may be that a person's path may change, but the Pah will provide the clue."

He nodded. "My mother wants me to take over the company some day."

It might have seemed like a diversion off topic to anyone else. But it made perfect sense to Opaka. "Is it what you want?"

"I do not know." He looked away, then back at her. "I have sometimes felt drawn to something that calls, yet does not exist. I thought, perhaps I was an adventurer."

"You tried the wormhole."

"Yes, with the same results as many, except for those who found you."

She said, "When young, there are many paths to choose from and no single path stays the same all the way through one's life. Perhaps you are meant to do both. To manage the business and yet pursue this unknown path."

"Which is why I am here. I realize now that you are not an oracle. But, would you consider, perhaps…"

She smiled gently. "I will." She scooted forward in her chair and leaned toward him, lifting her hand. She saw his nod. Then she clasped his ear.

As usual there was a thrill of energy through her palm. Her eyes were opened to seeing on another level. She noted that his energy held similar patterns to his mother's. She recognized the influence of Winn Adami right away, yet it was surprisingly gentle in impact. She looked further, following the lines and paths that made themselves available from this point.

It was intense, quick, but unlike with Adami, she let go of his ear gently. She looked at him with something that was akin to affection mixed with sorrow. "My child…," she paused as if pulling her thoughts together. "…I see three paths in sequence. The first involves a journey and at testing that will take you to your limit. The second involves choices you must make that will affect many in your care. The third is a promise of home and return, from there your path will change again and that far I can not see."

He sat back. Then he smiled ruefully. "I am not sure how much that actually helps."

She shook her head lightly, "It probably won't help until later. It is not the future I just told you."

"Just a possible path."

"Yes. You could step out that door and that whole possibility may change."

He nodded, considering. "Kai, you mentioned scriptures earlier. Were you…did you bring any with you?"

"Only what is in my memory, Jerrod."

He said, slowly, "Perhaps you ought to consider writing some of that down."

"Then how will your people be able to make your own?"

"But, Kai Opaka, you are our people too, yes? And the Prophets, they sent you. We may not need every single word of your past. But, it would be nice to have more than Ferengi philosophy to draw upon."

She blinked at him, then said, "My son, you have a great deal of wisdom for someone so young."

Neither commented on her use of the term. It just seemed natural in the conversation. He smiled at her praise.

==^==

There was a gathering of Cartels where the merits of continuing their vengeance on the House Presba were being argued by the heads of those Cartels.

"The truth is we shouldn't even be engaging them. We only got involved with House Presba because Tarn frakked it up. They should have taken the fine that was going to be handed down and moved on. The House Qualon in that Universe wasn't worth saving anyway."

"So you say, but I had business with them, legitimate. And now it's gone."

"Which brings us to opportunity. Now that the House Qualon is gone and our obligations with it, I say someone sends a peace offering and negotiates with the House Presba."

"It won't work. It's a Klingon thing."

"Nonsense. That House is composed of mostly Federation types. If we send the right someone they'll negotiate."

"The Federation hates the Orion Syndicate, legitimate business or no. We're going to have to cut our losses and just lay low awhile and hope they forget about us."

"They won't forget. Klingons remember."

"Look if we--"

"Enough! The Capels have an interest in the demise of the House Presba in both Universes. We want Voyager. Either that can be accomplished or it cannot. We have placed what we believe to be a reasonable war prize on their heads. If you want it, go after it. If not, then don't. I don't want it brought up in this meeting again."

A murmur of acknowledgement traced the room and the Cartel leaders bowed toward the head of table, where their leader sat. Her word was law, and they waited to hear what it would be.

==^==

In general it took either bravest soul or the craziest to enter into the heart of Hive Space. But there were those who found the lure of possible riches or amazing discoveries or even daring adventure impossible to resist. Some, on the other hand, just went there because they were tired of life and wanted respite. Others had different reasons.

One was never more alone than in Hive space, for no one would come to the rescue if the Hive found you in their space. The Klingon Empire defended its borders and sometimes even made incursions to claim space back, but they did not waste their efforts by conducting suicide missions.

The Orion Syndicate found this arrangement to be one with potential. It was decided by those in charge that they would make an attempt to find a livable location that wasn't too near occupied Hive Space, nor too far from it either. Colony planners would have advised against it all, if they had any say. But these Cartels hoped to establish a base of operations where they could begin building a fleet of ships and recruiting for their unintended war and there were those who believed that the Hive was just a boogeyman developed by the Klingon Empire to keep its population docile and its military strong anyway.

With those plans in mind, ships were sent out by their masters to find habitable spaces that met the requirement.

Some came back. Some did not. But the Syndicate was able to make some choices based on those who managed the feat.

No one commented or thought about the ones who did not return. Space was hazardous and the players had known the risks.

One event stood out during the search. There was a report by one of the captains of the discovery of remarkable debris of what looked like a space battle with three participants. There were no survivors to enslave and the debris of the ships with the markings of the Hive were recognizable. The other two were not. No real retrievable technology remained, but the captain brought back samples of what they could.

The Borg would have recognized the samples quite easily. That debris belonged to a Borg cube. The captain had not been able to retrieve the other samples without losing more people. Whatever it happened to be, was anathema to cellular structures.

The Cartel management determined that such material might make a useful weapon, so agents were dispatched to procure what could be gathered.

By the time those agents arrived, all evidence, aside from the decimated Hive ships, had been removed.

==^==

The next time she awoke, the sharp pain had been replaced by the ache of absence. Ezri could feel a weight across her chest, and didn't need to open her eyes to know that Emina was lying on her, head centered, as usual, over Dax . Slowly she blinked her eyes in openness, taking time to adjust to the light. Ezri didn't have a chance to shift position or to sit up before Lwaxana was visible in her line of sight. "How long?"

"Eighteen hours."

It seemed longer.

"I need to get to the bridge." She brought herself to her feet, not letting go of Emina, and took a shaky breath. Ezri realized that the other body she had been in contact with was Kate's. T'Pel reclined next to the beautiful human, stroking her blonde hair lightly. Things seemed slightly out of focus, as though she weren't quite in phase with the people or the room they were in. It was strangely reminiscent of space sickness, and she dealt with it the same way: by pretending it wasn't happening. Later she'd find some medication or a drink.

Lwaxana studied Ezri intently, and then nodded. "Kathryn will be glad of your presence."

Still carrying Emina, Ezri stepped from the Nest into Seven of Nine's room, looking for the hip-sling she knew had to be there. She quickly located it, and then froze as her hand brushed the supple leather of the weapon harness she'd given Seven for the axe. Quickly, Ezri pulled her hand back, as though burned, and squelched the fresh round of tears that threatened to spill anew. She'd shower and change at Deanna's.

==^==

Phoebe stroked Hov gently. The puppy was still small enough to be settled in her lap and its nearly silver colored fur was incredibly soft to the touch. Hov closed its eyes contentedly. Phoebe's eyes were not closed.

She sat on a chair on one of the porches, one that gave a clear view of the night sky. Above her, somewhere, was Voyager. Her family was up there, gripped tight in the vise of grief and shared pain.

Despite their agony, she was grateful. It wasn't the agony of death, but of separation. Phoebe thought about that moment, when Asil had tested the resolve of herself and Vrald, and she had been forced to own up to the truth.

She had been glad when Asil understood, and had allowed them both to be part of the boarding party that captured the Titan.

Vrald was simply not someone whom she could do without. He was just going to have to live longer than she.

Guinan slid into a seat beside Phoebe, smiled easily. "Feeling introspective today?"

"Well, it's either redecorate or it's ponder. I thought I might go with ponder."

The El-Aurian smiled. "Our guests are completely settled now that all the excitement is over."

"Do we know what happened?"

"According to Asil, both Section 31 and the Orion Syndicate launched separate attacks, and screwed it up."

Phoebe couldn't help the laugh. "Well, things to be grateful for. So is there any plan of retaliation yet?"

"I don't know. It doesn't feel like it."

"Nothing in the wind then."

"Well, there is something, but I wanted to talk to you about it first."

There was something in her voice that caught Phoebe's attention. "What can I help you with, Guinan?"

The El-Aurian's smile deepened. "I want you to know I plan on returning home…" Phoebe's breath caught. Not at the implication that Guinan was leaving, but that the wise-woman thought of their home as her home. "…but I feel the need to go to the Alpha quadrant."

"Would you like us to arrange a ship for you?"

"Arrangements have already been made. I will be going with Dr. Crusher."

==^==

Beverly and Tasha walked arm in arm. The words had all been said, but they weren't quite ready for final farewells. Nor would either of them make any promises.

So they wandered, enjoying their remaining time together and the companionable silence while they could.

"I'm glad you came back." Beverly finally broke the silence.

"Me too."

"When the border opens?"

"I am sure my husband will be very interested in meeting Captain Picard." Tasha smiled, not saying that she too wanted to see Picard.

Beverly laughed. "Among others."

"Stay well."

"And you." Okay, so she did want one promise. "And…don't leave. Not until I have a chance to see you again."

They stopped at a flowering bush and kissed warmly. "I'll do my best, Beverly."

"I know." What she meant was, I love you.

==^==

Commander Sarah Tucker stared out of the elongated port window in the mess hall. She wasn't the only one. Others aboard the Titan had gathered silently, to bid farewell to the ship that had been home as they pulled away from Voyager and began the journey back to the Alpha quadrant.

She spent a few moments studying their companion vessels. They were Klingon ships, acting both as guard and escort. This time she appreciated how savvy Commodore Janeway had been. The Titan, she knew, would arrive exactly where it was supposed to in Alpha quadrant space. Once there the real prisoners would be exchanged, and set on their way to the penitentiary. The crew would then split up to go to their various assignments. She would head to earth, to begin the process of clawing her way to a state of Grace again.

She turned her attention away from the convoy and looked back at the silver ship, which once more orbited Presba. What she regretted most, was not that she lost her command. It was that she was leaving Voyager during a time of trouble. They needed her and she needed them. She just hadn't realized it until it was too late. "Voyager," she whispered, "I'll be back."

==^==

The mood on Voyager wasn't funereal, but neither was it festive; it was purposeful. And there were happy people on board. Two of them people had recently been reunited.

Dr. Lenara Kahn and Dr. Leah Brahms had formed a bond that was originally based on admiration for scientific process and then later on a personal admiration for each other. Both were aware of the other's quirks.

Their reunion had been abundantly tearful and joyful, interspersed with a few moments of, "From now on…" finger-waggling from Lenara. But the after the reunion part was the best. Leah had not been at the bachelor party for a reason. She had been at the resort with Lenara, spending quality time with her lover and friend.

The time together had been light and honest, the beauty of the reunion marred only by the inexplicable delay in the acceptance of Lenara's request for a transfer. But, from another point of view, it was a good thing, since it got Leah planet side for awhile.

The problems with the transfer seemed to wash away after the crisis on Presba. Dr. Lenara Kahn was invited aboard Voyager officially, both to join the problem solving and as a member of the engineering staff. Her transfer had finally been approved.

Leah had introduced her to everyone, proudly and with a great deal of affection. Then, once the introductions were in place, she had whisked Lenara away; not to bed her, since they now shared quarters and they had already indulged themselves to a wonderful satiation on Presba, but to take her to the extraordinary Astrometrics Lab, where Lenara was introduced to the new Trans-Universal Astrometrics section.

Then, with the help of the Delaney twins, Leah explained what it was exactly that they were trying to do.

The Trill managed to fake sober consideration of the matter, given that there were tragic reasons for the necessity of tracking an Astrometrics path through an unknown amount of Universes, but the honest truth was she was nearly faint with delight. This was the kind of thing that she lived for.

Leah, of course, knew how her lover felt, it was easy to take the excitement she had felt and multiply it by the new circumstances to see how excited Lenara would be. When they had a moment where the others were distracted, Leah said, "Just wait until I take you to the Long Table."

"Is that some sort of special corridor?"

"No. It's the dinner table."

==^==

The Prime and their children climbed their way past the pain, slowly. There was no true escape, but they drew comfort from one another and from their friends. Naomi was a tower of strength for the younger siblings. Tal was there for Icheb. Counselor Orsas was there for all of them.

Comfort came from the oddest places too.

"You'll find them, Kathryn," Admiral Paris had said. His eyes darkened with concern. "But I do wish you'd stop losing your mates this way. I hate seeing you like this."

Kathryn had managed a laugh, but had to choke back the tears.

They went back to their various tasks, finding some refuge in the doing. Lwaxana and T'Pel took official leave in order to take care of the children and make sure that they were available for their mates. It was a necessary choice, one based on the notion that tangible connections were what was needed.

Tuvok returned to security. There he worked closely with Asil, as she took on completing the training of those new recruits from Voyager's Rest, and with Deanna, who was settling more and more into her role as First Officer. Old crew mates from previous postings might have expressed surprise at how well Deanna had fit into her new billet. But no one on Voyager doubted her abilities; she had shown that she was more than capable.

Meanwhile, being Voyager's CO was a good fit for Ezri, she was able to lose herself in the details, picking up some of the slack Laren's absence created for Kathryn, and gathering the threads of the new entity Voyager was becoming as old crew departed and new crew arrived.

If anyone thought it strange that she was rarely seen without Emina nestled at her side, no one commented on it. And if she no longer had her hand thrust in the social pulse of the ship, they understood that too.

Megan and Jennifer Delaney kept their worry to themselves, though they missed their friend and were concerned with the changes they saw. Silently, they took turns monitoring her late night haunting of Voyager's corridors, ready to assist if needed, but careful not to intrude.

No one said anything, but all efforts were turned outward toward finding those who were lost.

Seven of Nine stood, hands clasped behind her back, ocular implant raised, head tilted slightly, examining the varied packages that had been placed on, and next to, the small table adjacent to her replicator.

The replicator was locked with Borg ciphers along with a second, unfamiliar encryption, which doubtlessly, she could have overcome in a few hours. However, she did not have a few hours. Her presence was required at the senior staff meeting.

Seven of Nine tried again, then cocked her head in puzzlement. The replicator was functioning. It would produce a variety of items, it would not, however, produce any of her bio-suits, or even her velocity outfit.

"This is unacceptable." She lifted her left arm, her assimilation tubules already snaking out, and then stopped. The top package was labeled, 'To Seven of Nine, From Epatai Troi and Family'.

Curious, she picked up the package, and carefully slit the wrapping paper. It was a long rectangular box and she removed the lid. Inside was a knife. She searched through her memory until she found the designation for the item. It was a Qis. Next to it lay a folded slip of paper and she opened it up.

Hey Seven,

My Be'nal figures this other stuff might help discourage (her word, not mine) the jerks (I'm paraphrasing here) on this ship. I think this will be more effective. Qapla.

B'Elanna

p.s. Laren agrees with me, but don't tell Seven.

Now eager and even more curious, she began to open the other packages, no longer caring if the covering paper remained intact, and so entranced that she failed to notice when she had migrated to sitting on the floor.

The item that intrigued her most was obviously modeled on a Starfleet uniform, but had clearly been designed for greater efficiency, as well as her specialized requirements. The blue shirt felt pleasant against her arms and settled nicely over her skin. Speedily fastening its catches, she then donned the black sleeveless vest, noting with interest that each lapel of the half collar was decorated with the logo of the Science Division.

Standing, she put on the matching black pants, pleased by the feel of the material as she pulled up them past the implant that spiraled around her leg and foot. They rested comfortably on her hips, and she fastened them with satisfaction.

Seven selected a pair of shoes from the collection that had been provided, all of which appeared to be regulation. With some amusement, she hesitated over the box marked, 'barefoot', and wondered for an instant if that had also been a contribution of B'Elanna's, but put on the shoes she'd originally chosen.

With the small smile still on her lips, she attached the Qis, in its sheath, to the clips on her pants.

==^==

They awoke and, somewhat unusually, but in the interest of actually leaving their quarters, utilized the refresher in turns. Seven used it last.

"She's taking a little longer than normal."

B'Elanna straightened her jacket and felt along their family line. "Well, whatever she's doing, she's very focused at the moment."

A few minutes later they found out why.

Their mate strode into their room with complete confidence, as usual. But that did not mean that her entrance was without effect on them.

Laren was the first to react. She stepped close and touched the shortened locks. Then she smiled. "Blue suits you."

==^==

There were mixed reactions to Seven of Nine's new attire, in the sense that some were nonverbal, while others were definitely verbal. As she walked down the hallway she observed that, as usual, people were aware of her presence. And, as usual, there were comments.

The divergence was that it seemed the comments were directed at her, and most were complimentary. A few lamented the loss of the view.

She logged the feedback, along with the visual cues and the social indicators, for later review and simply nodded her acceptance of the compliments. She was not sure how otherwise to reply.

The Captain, while not verbally complimentary, did appear receptive to the change and offered unnecessary refreshment, a social gesture that had been absent in their interactions for some time.

Then the arrival of her roommates provided an additional opportunity to observe different responses. She knew the Captain could not be surprised by the outfits since she too had observed them during review of the shuttle records. However, the responses of the others ranged between surprise and cautious approval.

She noted that the other women also wore weaponry, some of it more visible than others. The staff responded on several levels to the display, from astonished vigilance to disapproval. Tuvok did not so much as raise a brow. He was unmoved one way or the other. A response she interpreted as approval.

She saved her queries for later and the Captain called for the meeting to come to order and began to tell them why they were gathered.

==^==

The senior officers were stunned. Shocked silence filled the conference room. The Captain continued. "Commander Ro and I have been discussing our alternatives. We believe that we will probably need to consider colonization as an option. Seven of Nine..." Captain Janeway directed her glance at the blonde, "... will you begin the process of finding habitable systems?"

The Borg nodded. Before she could reply verbally, the Captain continued.

"There are other options. We can try to join a compatible civilization. We can continue on, but if we do, we will have to try to find planets that have not been previously occupied for settlement and we will have to consider what we will do as far as resistance or non-resistance to the Dominion."

Seven listened to the whole discussion and finally decided that neither her mates nor her counterpart would mind her usurping their presentation. "There is an alternative."

"What would that be?"

"Come home with us."

==^==

The explanation was brief, but the arguments both for and against took some time. House Presba reassured the crew that their Universe was incredibly similar to Universe Gamma, with the distinct difference being that Universe Alpha was still engaging the Dominion in battle.

"Then they haven't enacted the scorched earth policy?"

"Nor has our side been allowed to enact such a policy in return. The battle is being fought, as the Klingons would say, with honor. But it is still a war. There are losses on both sides."

Lt. Commander Hansen Laren added, "The problem, however, is that, from a certain perspective, the Dominion's manpower is a renewable resource. They grow them faster and stronger than we can. The Federation, Klingon Empire and Romulan Star Empire are struggling."

"So we could go back only to find out that it has happened in your Universe."

The mates looked at each other and Seven Torres answered. "It is possible, but highly unlikely. The Dominion has been successfully blockaded at Bajor."

"I believe that the advantages outweigh the disadvantages," Tuvok opined.

Then the other staff began adding their opinions.

In the end the Captain said, "I will be the one to make the final decision. Thank you everyone for your input. I will let you know. You are excused. Commander Ro, you're with me.

==^==

The building of the Trans-Universal Engine would take two weeks, the integration of the unit would take at least another two weeks, and the testing of the unit would take two to four additional weeks as they worked out the bugs. Astrometrics and a lab adjacent to main engineering immediately became a sudden hotbed of activity as the process of planning and beginning implementation was begun. Some of the raw materials would need to be sought out before the components could be created. Voyager in this Universe had not recently had an opportunity to restore stocks. Nor did they have an official supply officer whose job it was to specifically acquire such materials. Neelix was, as in their universe, the jack of all trades.

Hansen Laren quietly added two potential candidates to her assistants' roster. Then she began interviewing. The first person she snagged was Ensign Celes Tal.

The Bajoran was shocked. "Me. Really? Wait. You aren't from this ship, so I think it's only fair to warn you…"

Laren raised her hand. "Tal, you are exactly who we need. You are conscientious, capable and you won't be required to do too many calculations. You will make a great assistant to the Captain."

Tal was shocked. Commander Hansen had used her correct name. The error had occurred so long ago with her first professor who could never get it right and then, somehow it moved to the Federation Database. But Commander Hansen knew, somehow. Which, meant… Her expression turned hopeful.

Laren smiled. "Welcome to the team."

The other interviews went equally, though oddly well. This time she even included Naomi Wildman in the process. In a few hours, Laren had a solid team. From there it was a matter of organizing them into an effective force. Janeway would wonder how she ever lived without them.

==^==

Captain Kathryn Janeway paused when she saw the second desk that had been discreetly added to the side of the ready room. She noted that the casual discussion area remained and the positioning of the desk insured that she would be able to get the other person's attention as immediately as needed. It also was not, as she feared might be the case, going to act as an unofficial blockade to the space. A retracting partition had also been set up to allow for privacy when needed.

A cup of coffee, with heat vapor wafting from it, sat waiting on her desk, along with several PADDs. She picked one up, blinked and then looked at it again. Several paperwork items had been completed and were awaiting her signature. She grabbed the coffee and sipped it while she took a moment to go through all of the PADDs. Each one contained unique, complete information. Paperwork that had been languishing for months was finished.

Oddly, she found comfort in the completion. There might not be a Federation to return to, but paperwork formed a kind of anchor and its own kind of notation on history. She began the process of signing.

As she did, Commander Ro entered with Ensign Anderson following closely behind, obviously finishing up notes from a conversation. "Captain, Lt. Commander Hansen has asked for a portion of cargo bay two to be re-assigned as storage for materials that will be garnered from negotiations with the Quana. I have approved an away mission for the new Supply and Procurement Officer and his department.

"Supply and Procurement?"

"Ensign Tom Paris has been assigned the position."

"Tom? He's agreed?" Kathryn couldn't quite believe it.

"I don't know how she did it. But Hansen convinced him to take the position and I authorized it."

"If it works, it's a damn sight better than what he has been doing." Tom had retired from navigation and had all but given up on participating in life aboard Voyager. Grief had waylaid him hard and he had never quite recovered. He had taken on maintenance duties, finding the distance from everyone there to be exactly what he wanted.

"I agree. Hansen also told me that she would personally see to it that if he failed to perform to her expectations she would handle it in such a way as he would wish he was breathing vacuum instead."

"Oh my." Somehow, knowing Commander Ro, Captain Janeway suspected that Lt. Commander Hansen would follow through on the threat.

==^==

B'Elanna Torres was the first one to fling a wrench. Fortunately it was away from people. The heavy object clanged against the wall.

"Is there a problem?"

The frustration in her voice was a near snarl. "The coupling won't couple."

Her counterpart stopped what she was doing and stepped around and then examined the piece. "Hm. Looks faulty. We'll replace it."

B'Elanna's hands raised in frustration. She looked at the pile of couplings, also bad, at her feet. "How can you be so calm?"

"Well, I have two Vulcans as mates. It was bound to rub off. But the real reason is that I have been where you are, and Tom is off on a procurement run with some rather specific instructions. We'll have what we need. It's just a matter of time."

Lt. Torres stared at the other woman. She hadn't quite heard the finish of the reply. Her voice was somewhat shocked, as she asked. "How many mates do you have, Troi?"

B'Elanna, who had taken the name Troi to avoid changing her initials, was aware of other curious listeners in the lab. She smiled and lifted her hands, with the thumbs folded in. "Eight. So that makes nine of us total." While the other woman was spluttering, she searched through a box of couplings and found one that did not look too bad. She handed it to the still goggling woman. "Here you go."

"How do you...? How do you manage them all?" She rushed through the words the second time, and managed to get the question out.

"Manage them? Do you think I'm insane? I let the Mistress of the House do it."

B'Elanna glanced at the coupling and lifted it, suddenly interested in the condition of the object. Then she had to ask, she couldn't not know. "Okay. I'll bite. Who is the Mistress of your House? But what I really wanted to know was about the uh…" Now she realized how bad it was going to sound.

Her counterpart grinned. "Lady Seven is the Mistress of House Presba. And, again, I don't try to manage anything except my engines and crew."

"She handles…uh..." Now B'Elanna Torres made a kind of waving motion, coupling in hand. "…that detail too?"

"What? No. Well sometimes. But mostly we just know. And we handle our own details. Somehow it all works out."

"Really?"

Troi turned back to the bones of the engine. "Really."

"Okay, you know. You can't just leave it like that."

Now the other woman grinned and stuck her head through one of the many openings and said. "You just gotta know the juicy details. Don't you, Torres?"

"Kahless, yes. I'm dying here. Tell me. Besides, I figure we're going to be spending a lot of time together and we have plenty of it. Might as well tell our stories."

"Fair enough. I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours. But it has to be full disclosure, no matter who is in the audience."

B'Elanna looked at the other engineers who were trying to act as if they weren't listening, but were obviously engaged in the interaction. Then she agreed. Engineers needed something to pass the time. "Agreed."

"Where do you want me to start?"

"How did it begin?"

"Like you, our ship had been dragged into the Delta quadrant by the Caretaker's Array. Ro and Chakotay's ship…"

==^==

With the Captain's approval, Hansen Laren took advantage of the fact that Neelix was on the away mission to make a few changes to the mess hall with the help of Commander Ro, Seven of Nine and Lady Seven. Laren justified the request by pointing out that it would improve morale, which would increase efficiency on the project in the long run.

Seven Torres agreed. "We will be able to conduct adequate planning while engaged in the update."

They first attacked the flow-through of the mess hall, which had been designed for those who use replicators, not for those who had to stand in line to get a meal. Now it was accessible for both purposes, and the kitchen was expanded to make room for the new staffing. Neelix would still be nominally in charge, but his position as Morale officer was made official, to be confirmed upon his return, and he would get his own office. One thing Hansen Laren had learned to do while being Crewman Ba was utilize the spaces that might not be considered otherwise. Meanwhile, there would be another small organizational shift. She showed Commander Ro a short list of people who could actually cook.

After their first encounter, Lt. Commander Hansen and Commander Ro had fallen on professionalism to get them through the awkward initial phase of their points of connection. However, working with the two Sevens did not allow for a long bout of non-communication. Seven Torres, who was now used to leading conversations, in her own inimitable style, simply began to talk and Laren, who was used to hiding nothing from her mate, responded. The rewards made it worth it. It was nice to be able to simply kiss her mate on passing, or be kissed in turn.

"I'm curious about something. Other than the hair, how do you know it's her? I mean its not like you and me. Those two look virtually identical, but you haven't once missed a beat."

Laren glanced at the two Sevens and then at the other Bajoran. "What? You can't see the difference? My Seven is at least two feet taller."

"Laren. We are exactly the same height." Seven Torres corrected her mate, though she knew Laren was joking.

The Bajoran laughed. "Actually, it's the bond."

"The bond?"

"We have an empathic connection. What do you really want to know, Ro Laren?"

There was silence from the other woman. Then she said, "I guess I want to know what our differences are."

"Well, unlike you, I spent six years of my time on Voyager, as my alter ego, Crewman Ba, working in maintenance swabbing out conduits."

Commander Ro, who was crouched down over an open panel, said, "Maybe you better start from the beginning."

Laren paused, and then said, "Chakotay was determined to save me from myself…"

==^==

Kathryn Janeway stepped into the mess hall and stopped. The first thing she noticed was the smell. It was glorious. She took another deep inhalation, and then stepped further into the room, which she noticed was surprisingly crowded.

She took another sniff and realized it wasn't so surprising. In fact, one could say it was outright logical. She spotted Tuvok, who was sitting with both Sevens and engaged in what must be a very rational discourse. But for all that, she thought he looked much less pained than usual as he partook of his soup. Not that an average observer would have noticed, but she and Tuvok had been friends for a very long time.

The thought, and the presence of Seven Torres, led her to remember that in another universe, she and Tuvok were married. It boggled her mind. She knew that there was a story behind it. And she realized she now had a perfect opportunity to find out more details. No one was going to tell the Captain she could not sit with them.

With that idea in mind Kathryn stepped into the line. The person in front of her turned to greet whoever was in the back, then noticed it was the Captain. "Please, you first."

Kathryn smiled with some amusement, but decided to exercise her prerogative. The next person turned to see what the small exchange was about. Their eyes opened wide and then they too stepped out of the way. "Captain."

From there, it was but a few more moments and Kathryn was at the front of the line. She looked at the offerings as she picked up the tray. Then she pointed. "I think, today, I'll start with the dessert."

==^==

"May I join you?"

Seven Torres turned toward her, smiled warmly and with pleasure. It about took Kathryn Janeway's breath away. "Please do, Captain." Seven then stood up and held the chair for her. Kathryn set her tray on the available space and then sat down, accepting the courtesy. Seven Torres then retook her own seat.

"We were discussing inter-dimensional physics, Captain. Would you care to continue that topic, or did you have another topic in mind," Seven Torres commented.

Kathryn glanced at her dining companions and then chuckled. "Well, I admit I did have an ulterior motive for sitting with you and it wasn't to discuss physics. I hope you don't mind if commandeer your conversation."

Tuvok replied, "Not at all Captain."

She smiled at her friend, and then said, as she picked up one of two brownies, "I know you've probably spoken with Seven of Nine about this topic, but I am curious. B'Elanna Troi gave me a very brief rundown on the events that led you to form a mated union. I'd love to hear your perspective on it." She took a bite. Then closed her eyes and hummed.

When she opened her eyes again, prepared to speak on the wonders of the taste of the brownie, she was caught by the quiet devastation in Lady Seven Torres' expression. The Borg woman looked down at her own plate and picked up her fork. Kathryn reached forward, and touched the other woman's hand. "I'm sorry. Perhaps…"

"Kathryn… may I call you Kathryn?"

The Captain hesitated then said, "Yes. You may, when not on duty."

"Thank you." Seven Torres returned her attention to the Captain. Her expression, though more neutral than it had been mere seconds ago, was not as completely closed off as Kathryn had feared it might become. The Mistress of House Presba said, "It began when we were being attacked by the Zakeeri."

==^==

It was a completely fascinating story, mesmerizing. Kathryn ate as if she were watching a holo-vid, interrupting only for clarification. She noticed that Seven of Nine interrupted for similar reasons, while Tuvok never did. He would only occasionally nod his head, or raise his brows.

She was not unaware of the audience that had formed on the periphery, but as long as no one else hopped in to change the direction of the story, she wasn't going to tell them to go away. It would, the Captain considered, pave the way for better understanding of their guests and their motivations. And, perhaps, it might provide more understanding for Seven of Nine in the process. Out of the corner of her eye, she took a look at her own Seven, studying the blonde to see how she seemed to be handling the information, and was pleased to see that the Borg appeared to be at ease.

Lady Seven, Kathryn decided, was a more than adequate story teller and she wondered where the woman had picked up the skill. On the other hand, there was much to tell and the time got away from many of them.

It was close to the chime for the start of Gamma shift when the Captain interrupted. "Wait a minute. Wait a minute. My mother is mated with B'Elanna's?"

Seven did not comment on the shorthanded way of asking the question. She knew that Kathryn was aware that Gretchen was an alternate. "Yes. They are currently in Universe Beta, and are acting as a judiciary team. Their actions have been pivotal in creating a more positive environment for Humans and other displaced species, as well as encouraging honesty in the judicial system."

"That's…" Actually, Kathryn decided she really didn't have the words. But she did have a question. "That's illuminating. You mentioned, during your presentation of trans-universal theory, that in order to move to a specific point in a universe we would need first need exit the universe and enter a new one and then re-enter at the desired point."

"That is correct, with the TUE we can go straight from this Delta quadrant to the alpha-Universe Alpha or Beta quadrants, but we cannot move between points in the same universe, that must be done with standard propulsion technology. The TUE essentially creates folds that enable exiting and entering at desired points. It is similar to how folding a two dimensional object into a three dimensional one, allows a point on the two dimensional object to be translated a short distance on the three dimensional object, but to have traversed a great distance on the two dimensional one."

Kathryn blinked, then thought about it. Mentally, she envisioned an ant at one end of a strip of paper, then folding the paper into a ring. With a couple of steps the ant would, in effect, be at the other end of the strip of paper when it was laid flat again. Her mathematics was a bit rusty, but she could see how that theory would scale. She had a more important question. "So we could also visit the beta-Universe, entering their Beta quadrant and then transition to the alpha-Universe and enter the Alpha quadrant there?"

"We could. Yes." Seven Torres nodded, and made note that this universes' Kathryn Janeway was equally scientifically inclined.

Captain Janeway looked thoughtful and then the chime for shift change rang. She looked at her long empty plate and cup and smiled. "Well, that is my cue. I have a busy day tomorrow. As do you. Thank you, Lady Seven."

"You are very welcome, Kathryn."

==^==

There were no counselors on board the ship. No one had stepped in to fill the gap, though there were occasions when the Doctor or Security had to manage. The news of the Federation's demise hit the crew hard, but it was somewhat ameliorated by the hope of crossing over to a compatible universe where they could integrate with cultures that were already somewhat known. Yet, at the same time, it did not change that there were losses.

Some handled it better than others, because they had already been lost in the Delta quadrant and had accustomed themselves to the idea that a return would be long term journey. But even then, they had hope of something to return to. Family, friends. Loved ones. That hope was now dashed.

Those that could, set aside their woe and worked more fiercely towards the future. Those that could not, suffered.

The Doctor did what he could to help, offering consolation and what guidance he could. He did his best. Grief was something with which he actually had great familiarity.

The next patient arrived, crying, and he turned to greet her.

==^==

Lady Seven made her way back to her quarters, anticipating the opportunity to spend time with her mates. Seven of Nine had some other business to attend to for the moment, but would be following soon after. They had agreed that at some point they might choose a Gamma shift as an opportune time to use the alcove and test out the results of the activity.

Tonight, however, it was unlikely to happen.

The majority of the ship's population was, by Gamma shift, either in bed or preparing for it. Ship time on Voyager used a three shift rotation each of ten hours. Most individuals worked a full ten hours, either during the day on Alpha shift, or the Beta swing shift. Gamma was the night shift, which meant that the corridors were much less populated.

Because it was ship's night, the corridors were set at three-quarters light. The purpose was that it saved on ship's energy. The psychological reason was that there were those who simply slept better because of the settings.

There were also those who found the setting enjoyable for walking in, letting it serve as a differentiation between night and day.

Some used it as cover.

Seven spotted the individual before he saw her. He was waiting by the cargo bay door, his expression determined and somewhat unpleasant. She registered several biological signals that warned her that his presence might constitute a security threat.

As he had not seen her and was still at some distance, she tapped her communicator and addressed the signal to one of her mates and then spoke in Presban at their response. She then continued walking as if nothing unusual had just taken place.

He eventually spotted her. The ensign raised his hand, pointing, and snarled. "You. It's your fault."

She tried logic. "If you have a complaint about something you believe I have--"

Logic was wasted on him. Her lunged at her and was suddenly choked off by the woman grappling him from behind. She brought him to as standstill.

"Now," whispered B'Elanna, "You were not seriously attempting to accost my mate, were you?" She wrenched his arm up and he gasped in pain. She continued. "I am going to call Tuvok and he is going to take you away so you can grieve at home for whatever it is you think you lost. I am, however, only going to warn you once. You come near me, my mates or Seven of Nine aggressively again, I will make you regret it." She growled in his ear. "Believe it."

==^==

Tuvok's security team led the man away to spend some cooling down time in the brig. The Vulcan remained behind. "Your handling of the situation was effective and non-violent. Thank you, Lt. Commander Troi."

"Well, it helped that I was able to threaten violence, Lt. Commander Tuvok. I have a feeling, though, that he may not be the only undirected soul who misses their visitation times with Seven of Nine."

Tuvok nodded an acknowledgment. "I will ensure that there is a security alert system in place. Is there any other way I may be of assistance?"

"If I told you what that brings to mind, it would make you blush. You bear a striking resemblance to our husband." B'Elanna raised her hand and her fingertips were met by Seven's.

This time Tuvok's brow did rise.

It had not been a pleasant few weeks for Yun Capel. His reputation had taken a great hit with his capture by the Presbans, and had gotten worse with the failure to properly disrupt the trial on Terok Nor. His eventual rescue and return home aside, it had not been a happy experience. At the last meeting of the cartel leaders, his fall from grace was such that he had been forced to remain silent while the Doamnă had spoken on behalf of the Capels.

Like other species, the Cardassians had more than one type of familial leadership; most followed a patriarchal model, some a matriarchal one. His family, for instance, boasted the nominal leadership of a male, for the sake of appearances, but was actually run by the female.

He still bore the marks of punishment under his clothes. His father had administered them himself, which did not bode well at all for the state of mind of his mother. Yun dreaded what that might mean, but had determined early on that as a son of his family line, he would face whatever came his way with a measure of bravery. Thus, when he was summoned to the great table to relay the details, and account for his actions, he committed to doing so with as much dignity as he could muster, even if his mantle showed the white of fear on his forehead.

The hall of his family was dark with age, lit by the bioluminescent bulbs that had been grown for such purposes an eternity ago. He wondered if some of those ancient life forms had achieved sentience, because they seemed to flicker in sympathy at his passing. Certainly they had seen him rise from babe to adulthood. It was not beyond possibility.

It was also a way of distracting himself as he walked toward the table, where the tall backed chairs hid their occupants from view. The only one he could see clearly at this point was the empty chair, his, which was lit with a brighter light than the others.

Yun gulped and almost wished that he had been allowed to simply go to trial and die. That was not to be, however. He had his duty and he would perform it.

He stepped forward into the brightness.

His mother began speaking while his eyes adjusted. "My son, you honor us with your presence."

"It is my honor, Mother, to be here."

"It is good to know your priorities are correct. Sit. Be comfortable."

Yun did as directed, the fuzz of the light and shadow began to take coherent pattern. "Thank you, Mother."

"Now, my son, before you begin your report, I have news to share with you. Your Uncle Shar has married."

Yun began frantically scraping his memory and came up with a vague image of a slightly overweight man, always smiling and barely interested in the family's business. The last time he had seen Uncle Shar, the man had been traveling as a food critic. Yun had thought that his uncle was surely dead, given the advent of the war. Food critics were not exactly in high demand during a war.

Yun managed a polite, "Oh." He was focusing better and could make out the features of his mother. Now that he knew who he was looking at, he attempted a smile for her sake. "I will be sure to congratulate him."

"I am sure that his wife will accept your offering on his behalf."

"Wife?" The word trailed, even as she lifted her hand and directed his attention to a seat by her left. The Cardassian felt his skin flush coldly and he turned even whiter. His uncle had married the Doamnă.

The woman in the chair gave him a crooked smile and lazily lifted a glass of something amber to her lips. Then she said, "Just call me, Aunt Kathy."

==^==

==^==

==^==

Voyager did not land on Presba again. She refused to give up her maneuverability advantage in space while there was even a chance that their enemies might dare another attack. Now that the border between Federation and Klingon space was, at least symbolically, once more open, the plans for picking up newly assigned crew and their families were adjusted accordingly. They would come to her while the repairs to her body were made.

She helped the scientists and Astrometrics officers ascertain possible directions of travel for the shuttle, analyzing and accessing all the data her sensors had recorded automatically. What they all wished now, was that they had a concrete means of determining a trail. Instead, all they had were crumbs, in the form of the engine signal from the shuttle, some evidence of variant shifts that allowed for some statistical analysis and a few other signs.

It would be, Voyager supposed, like tracking a particularly elusive wild beast. Doable, but only if one did not lose the trail. And the trail was so light to begin with that she held a touch of fear in her warp core.

The fear motivated her to do more.

It was her mate who stayed strong and logical, and Voyager leaned on that wisdom. Stinging Sparrow pointed out that it was likely, if they survived, that the missing members of Prime would build a TUE. There were two absolutely known Universal Variants, which could now be thought of as constants, that they could travel to and know that they would be found. It was only a matter of time.

But, as Voyager watched her Prime adjust around the new wound, she knew that the ability to shorten that time would make all the difference for herself and the mates.

Then there was the guilt and the grief, which was like a crushing weight. She was aware it was hindering her usual interaction with the crew, but did not know how to overcome it.

==^==

Deanna woke up, knew that her mate was aware of her wakening, and soothed that knowledge with a brief kiss before she got out of bed. She spent some time in the refresher and, when she came out, had a robe on. She was slightly more awake than she wanted to be at this time of the morning, but the emotional resonances hammering at her psyche prevented her from a sound rest.

It was not an unusual sensation; it was just that it was odd that much of the emotion was coming from the ship herself. It reminded Deanna just how very different Voyager was from the average Starfleet vessel.

The Betazoid replicated a cup of cocoa. She took it and sat down on the long settee that had migrated from the living room to the window. Sipping the hot drink, Deanna allowed the warmth of it to ground her contemplation and let the emotions surrounding her wash gently over her mind. Sometimes, to deal with the emotions that weren't hers, she had to distinguish them from herself. It was a trick she learned while counseling and with training. She meditated while she drank, closing her eyes to the solid physical images in order to absorb and process the emotional ones.

She spent twenty minutes, parsing each thread until it was all finally unraveled and she knew what parts were herself and what parts were others.

Deanna opened her eyes, took a breath, and then tapped her communicator. "Voyager, do you have a moment?"

"Yes, Deanna?"

"Would you mind playing a small game with me?"

"It would be my pleasure. What game would you like me to set up?"

"Actually, it's not that kind of a game. It's more of a…counseling game."

"Oh."

"It's called, 'What if I was blameless?" Are you ready to play?"

"Deanna."

"You already consented."

There was a pause. Then Voyager responded. "I did, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Tell me how the game is played?"

"It starts with the question."

Voyager said, gently and probing. "If I play it, daughter, will you play it too?"

Deanna was a bit thunderstruck. Then she nodded her head. "I will."

"You first then."

"What if I was blameless? I would recognize the fact that I was defending my friend." Even as she spoke, Deanna realized the truth that Voyager had seen; she had yet to internalize her own acceptance of her actions on the Titan.

"What if I was blameless? I would recognize that we were under attack and my processors were occupied."

"What if I was blameless? I would recognize that…"

==^==

Kate returned to work, which acted as a balm of sorts. The true comfort lay in her connection with her mates, and that was what kept her from retreating into drink the way she would have in the past. She couldn't help but to think that this was definitely worse than the Kal'Hyah and that she was glad that they had gone through it. She had learned during those four long days to rely fearlessly on her mates. It was their strength she drew on to bolster herself into functioning. It was their courage that upheld her own.

Dr. Dezhe prescribed half-days during the first week for her, and followed that prescription up with a threat to remove her from duty if she was ignored. The Klingon knew things were bad when Kate didn't offer any argument. On the other hand, she knew Kate was handling it, when she observed that the other woman with her patients. Her boss remained kind in bedside manner, but brusque in daily dealings.

Kate, meanwhile, recognized she would probably have done the same thing, and truthfully, in hindsight, she realized that, as soon as she came aboard, she should have enforced such a rule on the mates while they recovered from the loss of Lwaxana and T'Pel that first time. Now though, they had learned to adapt to living with grief and they carried her with them. At moments when she felt faint with the loss, all she had to do was reach and they were there.

The half-days made a difference. She spent time with the children, recognized that new a bonding was taking place and, despite the grief in them, she knew it was a good thing.

A very important conversation occurred during that terrible time. It took place between herself, Lwaxana and Mezoti. The Sochling expressed, finally, what had been rending the children inside. It was the usual. Guilt. Mezoti said, "It is our fault. If we had not--"

Lwaxana drew the young girl to her and looked at Kate. Then at the Borg child. "Mezoti, did you hire the mercenaries?"

The girl looked at her Betazoid mother and said, "No."

"Did you order the Orion Syndicate to attack Presba?"

Again she had to answer, "No."

"Is there evidence that Seven, B'Elanna, and Laren are alive?"

"Yes."

"Then let go of the guilt, my child. And tell your siblings to do the same. You were not the cause, nor the agent. Nor was anything that you did the cause or the agent of this grief. This time is only change which we go through, and soon we will all be reunited with those we love." She lifted the child's head to look directly into her eyes. Then she said, "Comply, my young Mezoti."

The girl's vocalization was tiny. "I will comply."

Lwaxana kissed the top of Mezoti's head and she and Kate hugged her between them, until the tears were finally gone.

==^==

Ezri thought, perhaps, if she kept some distance, worked away from them, she might spare them and hence, spare herself. Another lifetime, bare weeks ago, and she would have pushed herself farther away, perhaps right into fleeing from Voyager. But she didn't have the strength and couldn't live without them. They were a stinging solace, wounding and healing at the same time.

Emina wasn't the only one holding to Dax. Ezri found herself clinging to the being inside her like a life raft. She drifted, like a survivor at sea trying not to drown. Her Dax selves rose to the surface, the constant flood of memories and lives walked her through the day, speaking to her.

==^==

Deanna wasn't sure what alerted to her to go to the holodeck, other than a vague sense that something wasn't right, and that another thread was unraveling. She stepped through the doors, surprised to see that the majority of the large space was simply the normal grid. A haunting melody filled the room, and at a piano sat Ezri.

She walked toward the Trill, trying to put her finger on what was disturbing. The first thing she noticed was the absence of any of the Hansen children. It was the first time she'd seen Ezri without at least Emina or Azan, and the sling she used to hold the toddler to her hip was lying discarded on the floor. Deanna looked closer at her friend. Ezri's skin had taken on a pallor, and her spots seemed like angry stains instead of the normally elegant adornments. Her hair was still blue, and while not unkempt, was not in its accustomed style either.

The melody changed and Deanna listened to the haunting sub-harmonies, not recognizing the piece, but appreciating its complexity.

"Emina napping?" She could feel the unfocused rage washing outward from Ezri, and it seemed like a safe opening.

"The child is with its parents." The words were flat, their cadence unfamiliar.

Deanna stopped, if nothing else had alerted her to the fundamental wrongness in her friend, that sentence would have. Extremely worried, she reached outward with her mind, pushing past the rage trying to get a better sense of what was happening. She found nothing to grab onto; Ezri's thoughts were jagged and unordered, unrecognizable.

Vibrant blue eyes turned toward her, the madness in them far beyond the madness she'd seen reflected from the Trill after the splitting of the Prime.

That's when it hit her. Ezri didn't know how to play the piano. Whoever was playing the piano was not Ezri Dax.

==^==

It hadn't taken much time to pull up the information on the Dax symbiont from Ezri's Starfleet medical records, and Deanna quickly realized what was happening. Ezri hadn't been coping at all; she'd just sublimated herself under one of the previous hosts of the Dax symbiont. The Betazoid shut down the terminal and headed for sickbay.

Kate looked up as the doors swished open, the habit no longer necessary, but it continued to be a deeply engrained response to the sound. "Deanna," she smiled in greeting, still very much amused that she was technically this woman's mother. Then she saw the look on Deanna's face. "What's wrong."

Ordinarily, Deanna would have tried to couch her fears or downplay them, but she wasn't sure how much time they had to act. "How well can you sense Ezri?"

Touching the fledging bond, Kate tried to sense Ezri, but it was too new to get a firm sense of her, other than that of her presence. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Deanna thought about how to translate her suspicions into tangible questions. She wasn't sure it was even possible to for Hosts to fully re-emerge unless guided by a Guardian, and even then, they were, in turn, hosted by a volunteer to allow the current Host to interact with them. "I think Ezri is manifesting a previous Host."

Kate nodded. "She does that sometimes," she paused, "She lets Curzon surface briefly, I know." Curzon Dax had been consoling Kate, holding both her and Ezri in those moments. Kate had known, because she knew Curzon, and she knew Ezri.

Deanna looked solemn. "I think that's how she's been coping. One of the others is almost always in control. And right now it's Joran Dax."

Kate tried to order the images she had gotten from Ezri during the mating, and combine them with information she had gleaned from Curzon, years ago. "I don't remember a Host named Joran. Curzon was sixth, Jadzia seventh, then Ezri."

"Curzon wasn't the sixth host, and Ezri is the ninth host, not the eighth. There was a host before him, Joran Belar, who had the symbiont for six months. Kate, he was very unstable and violent. He murdered three people. "

Kate hit her communicator. "Voyager, can you tell me where Ezri is?"

==^==

When Kate arrived in the holodeck, the piano was still there, but Ezri was no longer playing. Taking a chance, she wrapped her arms around her mate from behind, and whispered in her ear, "Ezri."

Ezri let herself rise to the surface and tried to pull away, but Kate stopped her. Not for long, however.

"You can't keep running from it, my Ezri. This wounds us all. Let us be here for you."

She remained mute, unable to convey the dizzy ache that never seemed to leave. She needed to hold Kate, but at that moment, could not.

Would not.

And that scored them both in ways that outsiders would never understand.

"Go then," Kate said, without heat. "Hide from it while you think you can. But the fire, Ezri…" She spoke from the memory of her mates, but the smoldering intensity in her gaze was her own, "…it will burn."

The Trill turned and fled the truth, in need of distance.

==^==

Kate had already alerted her mates. Lwaxana and Kathryn were waiting for her when she entered the Nest. Both women were already exploring each other. Instead of joining them, she moved toward Tuvok, divesting herself of her clothes as she did so. Firmly, but gently she pushed him to the floor, and immediately lowered herself onto him.

She could hear Lwaxana speaking to them all, her delicious thoughts and suggestive words designed to arouse. Designed to call the fire.

They hadn't done that before, hadn't consciously called the fire, but they knew they needed to, needed to strengthen the newer, still tenuous mating bond, needed to pull Ezri into them.

==^==

The blaze thrilled through Ezri on the way to her quarters. It was more than desire; it was a summons and a command.

She leaned against the wall, only a small distance from the entry point to her quarters, and closed her eyes.

Then she felt the warmth of another near. "T'Pel." She opened her eyes, felt the swim of her vision adjust.

"Ezri." The Vulcan stepped closer, resolutely taking up that empty space between them and blocking the Trill's view of everything else around her. "I will carry you."

That wasn't a command. It was a promise.

T'Pel dropped a little lower and wrapped her hands around Ezri's waist. Then she lifted the smaller woman up.

With a sob, the Trill wrapped her legs and arms around her Vulcan mate, surrendered to what was needed. Their faces pressed together and T'Pel spoke to her gently, in Presban and Vulcan. Each utterance was a purr and benediction, a claiming and a calming.

Then, together, they went to the Nest.

==^==

They stepped onto the heart of the Nest and were surrounded. T'Pel began, finally, kissing Ezri - deeply and lovingly. She lowered herself to the ground, still holding to her mate and then eased the Trill down. She avoided pressing heavily onto Ezri, but did not cease kissing her.

〈〈We are here,〉〉 T'Pel affirmed. Her words were taken up by Tuvok and Lwaxana and the strength of the bond during the mating fire allowed Kathryn and Kate to join in the truth. 〈〈We are yours. You are ours.〉〉 It wasn't just words, it was meaning, context, desire, love; all of which wrapped her into more safety than she could ever have expected. She was not lost. They were not lost to her. As long as there was any one of them with her there would be a way.

They undressed her, taking their time about it, though there was urgency in them. T'Pel's kisses drew out the fire in Ezri and she alone - not any other Dax - flew up to greet them. Heat suffused her body, darkening skin and spots. T'Pel drew urgent kisses along Ezri's skin and the younger woman became more aware of the pressing need behind the touches.

Ezri felt T'Pel's celebration as the Vulcan drew her palms along Ezri's skin surface. The sensation was intense, comforting and arousing at the same time. Kathryn kissed Ezri, drawing her attention back up as T'Pel continued the tender retreat down the length of her. Lwaxana joined in those kisses and they both began layering attention on the Trill's spots and sensitive places. Kate and Tuvok were near, and she could see them when she turned her head. The Human stared at Ezri with that same burning intensity from earlier as Tuvok pushed into her.

Kate closed her eyes then and tilted her head up as she rocked with him. Ezri watched as her mate flushed with desire, causing the freckles on her body to stand out in exciting ways. The Trill heard the echo of Curzon's delighted chuckle, Jadzia's own sudden interest. The mates heard them too.

Their pleasure and desire and love for Ezri washed over all of Dax, embraced all of Dax and the Hosts, but firmly placed Ezri centrally. Lwaxana's sultry comments, directed at all of them, for all of them, summoned the fullness of joy. The mates called, made their claim. All of Dax was theirs. Ezri was theirs. No one was lost. All were recognized, valued and wanted. All.

Hiding was not necessary. Loving was.

That reassurance allowed Ezri to truly surrender to the moment. Then, T'Pel was finally where she needed to be. Her arms wrapped around Ezri's thighs, compelled the Trill's hips to arch, while long fingers separated tender folds. Then her mouth began hungrily exploring that which was hers, theirs.

Ezri responded, kissing back fervently and strongly. It was like being held aloft and brought to shore. They carried her with them.

She felt the pulses in her that meant her time was close, felt the reflection in Kate. She escaped the kisses long enough to look again at the Vulcan male and the Human female. Kate, she knew, was also near her peak.

She was instantly aware of the moment Kate ignited the fire, saw it light in the back of her eyes, in the way her whole body rolled in shocking ecstasy.

Ezri witnessed it and then, as if inspired, her own release raced through her. She cried out, sailed with it and was caught on the return - captured in their loving embrace. 〈〈Beloved.〉〉

==^==

And again, it was Kate's analytical, questioning nature that led to the next discovery. Seven and T'Pel had explored and experimented with the physical and psychic nature of the bond, while she wanted to understand the genetic and biochemical aspects. Lying next to Kathryn, with a sleeping Ezri's head in her lap, one hand running through the Trill's hair, the other tracing the skin between Kathryn's collarbone and breast, her fingers lingered on the faintly raised scars of the mating bites.

Tracing over the one she knew that she had left, she amused herself trying to identify which of her mates had left the others. She touched her own chest, and traced B'Elanna's mark, using it as a frame of reference to identify the matching mark on Kathryn. Intent on her exploration, she shifted slightly, allowing Kathryn to cradle Ezri, completely missing the fond smiles bestowed on her by her watching mates.

Still tracing Kathryn's skin, her hand brushed across a scar on the opposite shoulder. She compared it to the ones she bore, and then to the ones she could see on Ezri. Ro Laren, she decided, since it matched one of hers, but it didn't match one of Ezri's. Seven of Nine's mark was, likewise, easy to identify on all three of them. A tingle skittered through her body and she sat up more fully. Pointing at the remainder of the marks, she asked. "Kathryn, whose marks are these?"

Curious herself about what had put the excited gleam into Kate's eyes, and more than willing to indulge her mate in her never ending quest to know more, Kathryn pointed to them, one by one. "B'Elanna, Seven, Lwaxana, Laren, T'Pel, Tuvok." She leaned into Kate kissing her gently, "and yours."

Kate got to her knees and motioned to Lwaxana. "Yours?"

"B'Elanna, Seven, Kathryn, T'Pel, Tuvok, Laren, and you, beloved."

"Tuvok?"

He looked at her, trying to follow her line of thought, fascinated by her intuitive leaps, but answered her question rather than seek clarification. "B'Elanna, Lwaxana, T'Pel, Kathryn and Seven."

She didn't need to ask T'Pel, didn't need to know that her bites encompassed a range of those present and absent, but for the sake of completeness, she made the inquiry. "T'Pel?"

"B'Elanna, Tuvok, Lwaxana, Kathryn and Seven."

Kate nodded, and then pointed to her own marks. "B'Elanna, Kathryn, Lwaxana, Laren, Seven."

T'Pel understood the implications immediately. She moved next to Kate and brushed her long fingers against Ezri's much more recently acquired marks. "B'Elanna and Seven," she confirmed.

Kate looked back at the Vulcan, and spoke her thoughts aloud. "That's why you came out of it faster this time, why I recovered faster than you did the first time and faster than Ezri. We all have secondary bonds to each other, and have all been through the fire several times. She has only the original mating bond, and no consolidation of a mating fire until now."

Kathryn saw the tears form on Lwaxana's lashes and reached out with her hand, pulling the Betazoid into a firm embrace.

Kate continued thinking out loud, "I've had the Kal'Hyah, and the mating fire."

"She is unanchored." Tuvok spoke.

"Exactly. And I could be wrong, but her deepest emotional ties are to Seven and Laren." Kate paused, searching for a term or way to explain what she thought happened. "I think she feels adrift, and doesn't have the deeper affirmations with any of us yet to help her stay connected. There just hasn't been enough time. I can feel all of you, all the time. But there is more to it." She looked at the Captain and at the Betazoid and stroked the marks on her shoulder absently, "It's easier for me to reach Kathryn and Lwaxana, because the blood bond is there. We have...," Kate searched for the words to explain. "We've exchanged our genetic addresses, our full communication pattern. But Ezri doesn't have that with one of us here in this Universe."

They all looked at the Trill, who was blissfully unaware of their conversation. Kate touched Ezri's marks. "Those with whom she established that connection, are in that other Universe, wherever they are. Ezri feels us as hers, because of the mating bond, but the full benefit of the..." Again she searched for the right way to say it. "...the deeper bond is not there. I think...I think we've just seen the consequences of not completing the connections between us. It's like a short in the system or an incomplete operation. We couldn't know. Because this is all new to us. We're the first ones." She looked at Kathryn. "There may be more serious results, if we don't do something. But, without the others here..." Her voice trailed off. It was unnecessary to continue.

Kathryn looked around at her mates, and then spoke for them all. "My ship, please open a channel to Commander Troi." She'd leave the ship in Deanna hands, and concentrate on her Family. Getting Seven, Laren and B'Elanna back meant nothing if they lost Kate and Ezri in the process.

==^==

"What do we do?"

"The bond of blood may remain incomplete while our other mates are absent," considered T'Pel. "But the mating bond is already complete in all of us. She is our mate." She lifted her hand and touched it briefly to her heart and to her temple. "Or we would not feel her with us. It must simply be deepened, for her and for Kate." She looked at Lwaxana and then at her husband. Her expression turned speculative.

"What is it you wish me to do, T'Pel?"

"There are ancient rites, husband."

He didn't quite scoff. "They are primitive and not founded on any science."

"But their purpose is explicit, to bond."

"Semen is not a bonding fluid."

"It is not the semen, it is the mental effort that accompanies the ceremony. We have already established that the blood bond is genetic in nature. We have already established that we are already bonded as mates entire, but that she needs an anchor."

"I have already been through Pon Farr, sai Aduna."

"It is not Pon Farr that I speak of, sai Adun."

"Ezri and I have already engaged in copulation, T'Pel. If such a thing were possible by the mere action of it, it would already be done."

The other mates were all listening to this with rapt attention, curious beyond words. After all, this was the closest they'd ever seen their Vulcan mates come to arguing. It was a fascinating glimpse into a seventy year marriage.

"However, Tuvok, you were not, at that time, attempting to anchor the link through an effort on your part. More," she raised her hand so he could not head her off in the conversation, "We will join you in this. So it will be all of us. The act will be symbolic, but our purpose will be one." Then, she reached out to him and touched his chest. "Be logical, Adun. How is this any different than the other times that you have been with us?"

"It is inescapably basic."

She arched her brow at him. "As it is always."

He very nearly rolled his eyes.

"Oh, my god," said Kate, catching on and feeling no small amusement about it. "This is like an ancient, ancient rite we're talking here, aren't we? The kind that gets ridiculously messy, because they thought you could plant gardens with cum back in the day."

Lwaxana couldn't help it. She started chuckling. "You know, on Betazed we still practice some of those rites."

"The practice has been refined over time," T'Pel said. "It was for those who had difficulty forming the bond during Pon Farr. Not all have been as successful as we."

"Understandable."

Kathryn who was still stroking Ezri's hair gently, and who had not yet smiled, looked at them, then lifted her hand away from Ezri's hair and engaged in finger speak. "Wouldn't it be simpler to do what we just did and trigger the mating fire, again?"

Kate looked at Kathryn, then at Tuvok and T'Pel and couldn't help the laugh that escaped. "Well, sure. Spoil the plotting. I was kind of looking forward to seeing this ceremony."

Tuvok merely looked relieved.

==^==

They began.

Kathryn remained where she was, but her rhythmic strokes moved from Ezri's hair to the small rosettes on her temples and down her neck. T'Pel, Lwaxana and Kate seemed to descend upon Tuvok, but it wasn't really so. Tuvok and T'Pel found themselves pressed together between the other two women, who began caressing both, kissing both.

It was teasing at first, with light touches, flirting kisses and words. The spark had been so recent that they weren't sure it would ignite again so soon after. But that did not mean that their desire was erased. And they were rested.

Kathryn enjoyed watching them interact, watching them begin the seduction anew. She smiled when Lwaxana was brought to the middle, placed between Tuvok and T'Pel. She felt excitement build within her at her mates' responses to one another. She loved the contrasts of them, blonde, brunette, redhead, dark, light, tall, short. They were, she thought, so incredibly beautiful and the sight of them loving one another caught her breath.

"Laren was right. You all do like to watch."

Kathryn looked down. "Ezri."

The Trill smiled and reached up. She drew the other woman down, intending a long kiss. "Kathryn," she replied softly.

Their lips touched and a spark shocked through them all.

The mating fire.

The Blood Fire.

Without hesitation, Kathryn lifted the Trill more fully up, kissed her with abiding hunger. She purred out the name of her mate, longing for her in ways that could only be shown. "Ezri. Ezri."

The brunette pressed against her, rubbed body to body, until she was slightly higher than Kathryn. Not standing, but kneeling. The red-head kissed Ezri's neck and chest and belly. Her fingernails rasped along the Trill's side.

Kate was suddenly there, holding onto Ezri from behind. She cupped Ezri's breasts, brushing her palms against the stiffness there. Then one hand went sliding down and down the woman's flat belly, through silky curls and down further. She stroked along Ezri's inner thighs and then back up. "Ours," she purred. "Ezri Dax." She slid her fingers into that slick space, caressing but not yet filling.

Ezri reached and cupped the back of Kate's neck. They kissed fiercely, hungrily. "Mate."

"Yes," they all responded. She felt them then, felt them reach toward her and she returned the effort, reaching back. The mates encouraged the connection, drew their own in parallel. Ezri's other hand roved along Kathryn; her Captain, and her mate, rose up to kiss her sharply, deeply.

Ezri felt herself growing closer, knew that she was being called to pleasure again. She noted when Tuvok, T'Pel and Lwaxana moved and knew it was just so she could see them. T'Pel lay on the ground, legs up and against Tuvok, with the Vulcan plunging into her while she clung to Lwaxana and tasted her.

Lwaxana turned her head, and for a moment her expression was so intense. So on fire, Ezri felt it. Kate did something with her hand and then it was as if Tuvok was plunging into Ezri, Kathryn, Kate, T'Pel and Lwaxana all at the same time. 〈〈Ours.〉〉 Lwaxana meant it; it was a bone deep claim. They all meant it. Ezri could feel the heat of that declaration coming from all of her mates and then there was the push to something that was only moments away from cresting. But Lwaxana wanted her to know it was coming, wanted her to feel that spark in them start with her.

Ezri was catapulted and the cascade rolled hard through them, like energy funneled through the proper channels at last. It claimed them, tossed them into the higher stars and reminded them who they were to each other.

==^==

The project may have played to Dr. Kahn's forte, but that did not mean she didn't feel like she'd been dumped into the deep end of the Purple Sea.

She, Leah, Sayr, the Delaneys, along with dozens of other scientists and Astrometrics officers pulled at strands of details, and dug deeply into what they knew. Even though there was a lab dedicated to the new Trans-Universal Science and Engineering section, whole other labs were taken over and sectioned out to aid in the search. They made dozens of discoveries, some helpful, some not so helpful. At some point, the theory would advance to meet the practice, but their efforts weren't to try and advance theory. It was to enable Voyager to find her missing family members.

Eventually millions of possible trails were extrapolated, then they began narrowing them down into manageable bits. Maximally, they could cover, if the schedule went well and they took care of the engine, ten universes a day. Barring surprises, it was doable, if daunting.

==^==

Kathryn stared at Dr. Kahn and Dr. Brahms. "So you're telling me that we have to come back here, every time?"

The Commodore was obviously incredulous, and not a little impatient, and Lenara thought about how to explain it, without insulting Janeway's intellect. "Let's call this Universe, variant 0, now if we jump to some unknown Universe, say eta, we know its absolute variation from ours, but if we then jump to another Universe, say phi, all we know is its variation from eta to phi, and that tells us nothing about the variation from phi to ours. Do that enough times, and you get lost."

"Why can't we just calculate offsets?"

The Trill scientist smiled, the question meant Janeway understood the basics of her explanation and she could proceed with the rest of the information in a little more detail. "Because that's not how dimensionality works at that level. The distance between them, so to speak, is not continuous and not really truly discrete either, sort of like a number line, with some universes as rational numbers and some as integers. They don't have evenly spaced gaps between them, but the cardinality is aleph-0, so they are countably infinite."

Kathryn stared at Lenara for a long minute, her agile mind trying to construct even the beginnings of a rudimentary proof for that cardinality. Cantor maybe, or would they have started with von Neumann and a transfinite hierarchy? "Did you get that from transfinite recursion and the union of all the possible V-stages of the limit ordinal, or use a straight forward Cantor diagonalization?"

The eyes of both scientists grew wider and Kathryn favoured them with a wry grin. "What? You didn't think they give the keys to these things to just anyone did you?"

Lenara and Leah exchanged looks, and it was Leah who answered. "No, Commodore."

She laughed at their discomfiture, and then focused on what was important, paraphrasing the Trill's earlier words to make sure she understood the problem fully. "So just because the variation might be 0.67 from 0 to get to eta, and 0.13 from eta to phi, it's not necessarily 0.8 back to here because we aren't dealing with anything remotely linear."

"Pretty much. Everything is so folded at that level that we need to be very careful." Confirmed Lenara.

Kathryn leaned back in her chair, trying to weigh the analogy and having a very difficult time grasping the physical mechanics of actually doing it, though the mathematics was clear. Her throat constricted and she realized how much she missed Seven's intellect along with her steady presence. She hardened her resolve. They would do nothing to jeopardize finding them.

She turned to Deanna, who had been listening quietly. "Make it so."

==^==

Kathryn waited for the two scientists to depart, and then turned to her First Officer. "A word, please, Commander." She tried to keep her tone level and her thoughts guarded, knowing that Deanna was more than capable of discerning more than she wanted to reveal.

"Certainly, Commodore." Deanna came to stand in front of the desk, and waited. She knew Janeway was angry, but she deliberately refused to untangle the rest of what was being projected.

"In the future, if I refuse to embark a civilian or other person on this ship or any other under my command, you will respect that decision. Is that clear?"

Deanna nodded, startled, but holding to her refusal to look below the surface of Janeway's mind. "Yes, Commodore."

Kathryn relented somewhat. "Deanna, I know you did the best you could, and ordinarily, Lenara Kahn would be not only an asset, but a downright coup to have on my ship. Unfortunately, she shouldn't be here."

She didn't need to look to put the pieces together, or, at least, to deduce that it had something to do with Ezri, which made it a problem. Deanna wondered what she'd say to Jean-Luc if he had made the same decision, for personal reasons. It was time to find out if she was the First Officer in name or substance. "She's the best person for the job, her relationship with Ezri is a personal, not professional consideration."

"Believe me, Deanna, I am very well aware of that. All of it. But there are other factors." She stared out of the view port, and knew that her daughter wasn't wrong; it was just a great deal more complicated. But then again, with so many family members on board, a possible nightmare of conflicting personal interests waited around the corner for all of them. "Would you still make the same decision?"

"Yes." It had been the right decision, and even knowing that Kathryn was angry didn't change it.

"She can stay, but you will explicitly inform Dr. Kahn that the Dax symbiont is aboard Voyager, and that she is to ensure at all times that she does not come into contact with Ezri. If Dr. Kahn wants to remain aboard Voyager, since I understand she and Leah Brahms have a significant romantic attachment, the onus is on her. One inadvertent meeting and she's off the ship."

Deanna nodded, but was confused. "I don't understand. I thought Ezri went to find Leah at the specific request of Lenara Kahn. I wouldn't have expected bad blood, at least not from Ezri, to the degree you're indicating."

Kathryn sighed. If Deanna were only her First Officer, she wouldn't have explained, but she was not only family, she was one of Ezri's closest friends. "It would be so much easier if bad blood was the problem. You can ask Ezri more, I'm sure she'll tell you the rest, but essentially, a previous host of the Dax symbiont and a previous host of the Kahn symbiont were married, and Lenara Kahn was briefly involved with Jadzia Dax. Re-association strictures aside, we can't risk anything that pulls a previous host to the surface. She's had a hard enough time fighting down Joran Dax."

Deanna nodded, and realized that for all the benefits of being a Joined Trill, there were some tragedies too. And even worse, she realized that Kathryn was having to balance what was best for one mate, with what they all needed: the return of Seven, B'Elanna and Laren. "I"ll make sure that she understands."

"See that you do, Commander. Dismissed."

She turned to leave, but was stopped by Kathryn speaking.

"I can think of someone who might like a visit and some chocolate."

Deanna smiled. "I can too."

==^==

Any location in the alpha-Universe would have been fine as a calibration point, but Presba was designated as the check-in point. Every Alternate Universe they would spend at least a half an hour discovering what they could and determining whether the mates were present. Then they would go back to Universe A-0 to calibrate. After a maximum of ten alternate universes, they would refine the information, recuperate and plan for the next session, gather any of the new recruits who made it to them and do whatever else needed doing at that time.

In three months, if the search was still on, they would go back to Voyager's Rest, establish the base there and begin importing the scientists, inventors and engineers that Starfleet wanted to hide away for awhile. It would give the Federation a necessary edge and the Voyager crew a small break.

Then they would begin again.

==^==

"It's not fair." The doors had barely shut behind Commander Troi before Leah let loose the angry response that she'd forced herself not to hurl at the First Officer.

"It has nothing to do with fair, love. It has to do with Trill custom. We're lucky that Captain...Commodore Janeway is even letting me stay here."

"I don't understand."

"I know. But trust me, this is what's best for all of us." Lenara knew only too well the potential disaster waiting for them in the person of Ezri Dax. Even across a subspace link, she'd felt something, and knew by the other Trill's immediate response to her plea for help to find Leah, that some fragment of what had been between Torias Dax and Nilani Kahn, and between herself and Jadzia, lingered still.

Leah took a breath, "I could try to talk to the Commodore."

Lenara gave her sweetheart an affectionate look. "Leah. This is a big ship and we are both smart women. Surely we can manage. Besides, we have a secret weapon."

She tapped her communicator. "Voyager, this is Dr. Lenara Kahn. Do you have a moment?"

"How may I assist you, Dr. Kahn?"

"Your Commodore has given me a challenge that involves avoiding random contact with Commander Dax. Has she forbidden you to help me?"

"Of course not, Dr. Kahn."

Leah suddenly began to smile.

==^==

In their quarters, Deanna sat curled against Asil. "Do you think they'll notice Qul?"

"They will notice, but not until they are out of the Nest."

Deanna chuckled. "By then it will be too late."

"Then you plan on starting without them?"

"We must. It will be days, my Asil, before they are able to join us in any coherent way."

"You feel them."

Deanna laughed. "How can I not? On Betazed, children know from an early age about the facts of life. We learn to block. But even so, we are not blind. And our parents, in particular…"

Asil cocked her head and Deanna found her irresistible. She leaned forward intending to kiss her mate lightly.

The power of the call thrilled through them. She pulled back, laughed. "Well, I should have seen that coming."

Asil near-smiled. She scooted forward and, lifting, took herself and her mate to bed.

==^==

Deanna was curled on the couch in the Family quarters, telling stories to Barin and Emina, when Asil called her.

〈〈Would it be possible for you to come home, sai Aduna?〉〉 Asil's voice was clear and solid, no longer mere echoes of sound, but as real as if spoken aloud.

〈〈Yes, my love.〉〉 Deanna answered, and smiled. The bond between them had deepened and changed again, and she wondered if Asil had realized it yet.

The answer came as a tickle of happiness rippled through their connection, and she knew that the sound equated to laughter, if Asil had been given to expressing such emotions verbally. She returned the sentiment, and marveled that Asil knew when to respond to her mental musings and when not to. With Asil, it never felt as though her privacy were being invaded, but rather as if there was a constant dialogue between them that was sometimes silent, but always ready to resume.

"I need to talk to Asil for a few minutes. I'll be right back, okay?" She waited for both children to acknowledge her request, amused to see them check with each other first, then stepped through the door dividing the two sets of quarters, setting it to remain open to allow the children access.

"Commander." Asil dipped her head.

Deanna smiled as the low tones vibrated through her. Her mate meant to signal this was a matter of ship's business, but instead Deanna wanted to close the door and go back what they had been doing earlier. "Lt. Commander." She purred the rank deliberately, delighted to receive a tiny quirk of Asil's right brow in response.

A PADD was offered to her and she began to read. When she finished, she looked up at her mate. "Commander Troi to the bridge."

"Bridge here, Commander." Lt. Kim answered the hail.

"Harry, send a priority message to Worf, request that the Titan to come to a full stop, and contact me as soon as you have a channel."

"Aye, Sir."

Asil was regarding her warmly, and Deanna moved into the physical contact. "How did you know?"

"I was aware of your desire to make Ezri's marriage unique to the individual she is, and searched for relevant information. Trill culture appears to have levels for public discourse, but the deeper, more private, ones that include information with regard to joined Trill are very difficult to access. Instead, I was forced to seek information about the Hosts themselves. I found nothing of use for the Trials, but I did come across several references to the zhian'tara, or Rite of Closure. When you told me of what happened in the holodeck, I was reminded of what I had read. Ezri Dax has not undergone her zhian'tara."

"Bridge to Commander Troi."

"Troi, go ahead."

"I have an open channel to Ambassador Worf."

"On my way. Troi out."

==^==

==^==

The next day, Commander Troi nodded to everyone gathered on the command deck. "Lieutenant Sayr?"

The Vulcan said, "Everything is in order, Commander. The plot has been established and the TUE maintenance is complete."

"Excellent, thank you." She turned her attention to the helm. "Lieutenant Paris, what is our status?"

"Engines are hot and ready to roll, Commander."

She smiled lightly at the extravagance of his reply. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Warp One, if you please."

"Aye, Commander."

She took her place and then made the announcement. "All hands, prepare for transition on my count."

==^==

Once again they passed through the membrane that separated the universes. It was a smooth transition and, again, there was a hint of something on the outer edges of the ship. Lights seemed to catch rides on the wake of the ship and frolicking beside Voyager like dolphins. Voyager, who was still a bit heartsick about her lost Prime could not help but be uplifted and her song strengthened, which in turn pleased her mate. Then Stinging Sparrow's siblings and cousins took up the song that delighted the little lights, which caused one or two of them to dare entry. This time, when the walls faded on Voyager, some of those sparkles floated into the ship and had a good look around at the beings within. The beings within were somewhat surprised by the visitation, but no one resisted.

Then, as the walls started fading back into visibility again, the lights fled back into their own realm.

Voyager came out on the other side, into the Presban sector of another universe. Quick checks on ship and crew conditions were done. Deanna checked with her mother. The mates were not in this universe.

They stayed at warp one, exploring. For the next thirty minutes information was gathered about this universe. Notations were made about the variant and logged.

They picked up signals at a distance, but the Klingon Empire had not extended this far. All in all, for a first run, it was not bad.

==^==

The move back to the alpha-Universe resulted in the visitation of light beings that were brave enough to investigate while the ship and her people were in transition. The first event had been noted and the second event was noted too. Again the crew did not do anything to avoid the creatures. Voyager had shared that they did not appear to be violent, only curious. So the crew, while in transition continued in their business - either staying put or engaged in those necessary ship's processes that kept everything running. Again, just before end of the transition, the light beings hurried away and dispersed.

In the alpha-Universe, while the engine cooled down and was checked, black-box information was collected and compared against known data for calibration. Those who were new to the transition, and who weren't sick the first time, were sick the second time. Sickbay was busy.

A half an hour later, they moved to the next universe.

The second universe was similar to the first one and the missing mates were not there either. Not that anyone truly expected them to be. The process was one of elimination. As with the first universe, they explored and made notations about what they observed. Then, in a half an hour, they moved back to Universe Alpha - Zero.

==^==

The mates were in various states of rest and reflection. Kathryn was finally sleeping, using the meditating Tuvok as a pillow. Kate was cuddling T'Pel, caressing her Vulcan as they affectionately watched Ezri and Lwaxana.

The Trill was on the Betazoid's lap, rocking lightly. The smaller brunette's legs were wrapped around the redhead's waist and they were pressed close together, engaging in long, slow kisses. One of Lwaxana's hands was actively touching Ezri intimately, stirring the nerve sheaths within, and playing lightly with the newly trimmed curls.

In a moment of whimsy, and oneness, all the women had decided to get decorative. Ezri had chosen to take the blue in her hair lower, and then had gone for a simple stripe that left enough to play with. And Lwaxana did so enjoy playing.

Ezri's spots were changing color as her arousal increased. Erotic noises, profound in their authenticity, gently filled the room.

The walls faded away again, but the women were so engaged in each other that they did not notice. A few lights, three at most, entered the room. Ezri was right on the cusp of her orgasm, and oblivious to everything but her mates.

Kate whispered the command. It was barely audible. But it was heard. "Now."

Pleasure rushed through the Trill, pulsed in powerful waves. The lights moved close to them and seemed to respond, brightening and lingering almost too long, as the walls started to coalesce, gaining opacity. Then, as if remembering themselves, they appeared to flee away.

Ezri's arc of Eros finally let her loose, and she rested against her mate in quiet bliss.

It wasn't until the fourth or fifth transition that it occurred to the Trill that she had not once been space sick.

==^==

Deanna made her report to the Commodore about two hours after the final transition back to Presban space. It was, perhaps a more informal reporting atmosphere than usual, since Kathryn was dressed in a robe and they were in the family room on a couch, but it was an effective one. The twins were to either side of their mom, listening quietly while they rested against her. Mezoti was playing with Emina and Barin, who, in turn, were playing with Qul.

Kathryn had not mentioned the puppy once, but Deanna sensed amusement about the topic. So she took a don't-rock-the-starship approach and chose to ignore the creature she gave her report. If Kathryn wanted to know, she would ask.

"We're encouraged on the whole. The engine never failed and the reset period remains constant."

"And the inhabitants of the Membrane?"

"They seem content to watch. Curious and alert, even playful. But not dangerous."

"Let's keep an eye on them anyway. If one should try to make further contact than observation, I want to know about it immediately."

"Aye, Commodore."

"Also, I'd like to make a small adjustment to our scheduled journeys tomorrow. I realize that our scientists are interested in the new, but I'd like to visit Universe Beta and inform them."

Deanna caught on immediately. "Would you like to set up a check-in schedule?"

"Yes. Say, once a week. We can establish that as a contact time for our Ambassadors and family."

"Prudent. I'll make arrangements with our TUE staff." Deanna paused and then said, "On a different note, Lt. Commander Ranul Keru will be in Presban space in eighteen hours."

Kathryn nodded. They had already discussed the purpose. "Let us know when the commander is settled and ready."

"I shall."

"Also, please find out if there are any particular preparations that we should make."

"I will."

"Thank you, Deanna."

"It is my pleasure."

"Why don't you go get a little dinner, while I talk with my younger children about the care and feeding of puppies and the terrible burden of responsibility when it comes to pets."

Deanna grinned.

==^==

Kathryn weighed and balanced telling Ezri about the presence of Lenara Kahn, then decided that Ezri must have already known as Deanna had not necessarily kept it a secret. It was, therefore, Ezri's choice not to pursue that information, which said quite a bit about her mate's growth and sense of self-preservation.

She stepped into the Nest.

Ezri was seated on the edge of the perimeter of the heart of the room, her legs dangling. Her hair was wet and there was a towel beside her. She was looking into the centre with a bemused expression on her face.

Kathryn looked, felt, and had to grin. T'Pel was conscious, but on the razor's edge of sleep. Everyone else was deep in the grasp of slumber, and as soon as T'Pel felt Kathryn's presence, she drifted off.

Kathryn stepped up to and sat beside the Trill, not yet touching her. "You wore them out, love."

Ezri turned enough to look at Kathryn and smiled whimsically. "Well, technically, you all have worn me out several times."

"True. Fair in love and war and all that." Kathryn reached and stroked her Trill's naked back.

Ezri leaned into the touch. She grinned, "You know, the counselor part of me loves all of this. Assuredly, I've had my touch need filled to overflowing. It's very healthy."

Kathryn chuckled. She caressed Ezri's face and said, "That would be the point, Ivaya."

"You've been learning Trill." The endearment crawled deep inside and warmed her in ways that even their touches hadn't.

"It's a beautiful language. And you speak all of ours."

Ezri leaned forward, her smile still warm, but her gaze was intense. "Thank you, Kathryn."

They kissed and Kathryn drew her close. "Now do you believe?" Kathryn whispered in Ezri's ear.

"Yes."

They entered Universe Beta the next day. The Commodore had authorized the use of extra time, however much it took, for contact and planning. In this transition, they would try to contact General Torres and Judge Torres.

What they found upon entering Presban space was that it was quite busy. There were several ships in transit and the planet apparently had a thriving colony. They also had loyal guardians.

The Klingon captain, without even checking the type of ship that entered his space, hailed the intruder. "State the nature of your business."

He received an answer right away and once the visual hit, he paled several shades. Before he could respond, Deanna began.

"I am Commander Deanna Troi of the House Presba. I am authorized by Warlord Janeway of the House Presba to make contact with our family. Would Judge Torres happen to be around?"

==^==

It turned out that Judge Torres was in the Presban system. They were taking a break from judicial duties to oversee some of things going on with building the colony.

"SosnI! It is so good to see you."

"And you, my granddaughter." Miral peered at the view-screen. "Your uniform looks good on you."

Deanna smiled warmly. "And you look … radiant."

"Ah, so politic. I look pregnant is what I look. Remind me to tell you how I got this way. It's very important detail and Dr. Kate will want to know." Miral sat back in her seat. She was taking the call in her quarters. She cocked her head. "Something is bothering you. Tell me."

The Betazoid nodded, remembering that her grandmother was quite to the point about everything. "The Prime were split again during a battle with the Orion Syndicate and Section 31. B'Elanna, Seven and Laren were traveling in a shuttle and caught up in a transition wake. They are now in an unknown universe. We are currently in the process of searching for them. However, we believe they would waste no time in trying to return to either the alpha-Universe or the beta-Universe if they were able. We were wondering, if they should happen to show up, would you please keep them here? It seems that trans-universal mechanics can be somewhat messy and we don't want to lose them unnecessarily."

"Did you defeat the Orion Syndicate and this…Section 31 group?"

"We did."

"Contact Belle immediately and let her know. I will contact your counterpart here. She too is of House Presba." Miral looked thoughtful. "Would you like to meet her?"

"We do plan on establishing regular visits. If my…sister… should happen to be available at one of our next visits, I am sure I would enjoy meeting her."

"You probably would. It is something I appreciate about you."

"Thank you."

"So, I take it all of your parents are too busy to talk to their mothers?"

"Commodore Janeway will be available in a few minutes."

==^==

Kathryn was open-mouthed with shock. "But, that's impossible."

"You," chided her mother, "are using the word impossible? When we are all Presban?"

Kathryn tilted her head. "Point. Kate will love it. Did you figure out…how?"

"No. We decided to leave that to your people, but we also felt you should know. Any one of you could be affected." Now her mother looked closely. "Are…"

"What? No…I mean, Dr. Zimmerman noticed that our original implants tended to disappear after a mating bond and so we've all been inoculated."

"And the orders to increase the House Presba?"

Now Kathryn grinned. "Phoebe is pregnant."

==^==

When the hail came, Belle reluctantly left her quarters and a, finally, peacefully, sleeping Annika. Once in her office, she switched the communication to visual.

"Hello, Belle." Kathryn smiled warmly.

"Kathryn! Back so soon?" She watched, concerned, as the smile faltered and faded. It was the flicker of devastation that told her everything she needed to know. "Who?"

"B'Elanna, Seven and Laren." Kathryn took an unsteady breath and continued. "We're searching for them, but its slow going, we need to return to our universe after every jump. We're pretty confident that wherever they are, they're trying to get back. Seven knows how the TUE works, B'Elanna's already built one, and Laren will make sure they get what they need to do it."

Belle let out a wry chuckle, hoping to make Kathryn feel better. "Looks like you lost the right three." A new flash of pain showed in Kathryn's eyes, and Belle held her hand up. "I'm sorry, I only meant to reassure."

Kathryn took a deep breath. "I know. It's just..."

"You miss them and need them. I understand. If they find their way here, I'll hold on to them for you."

"Thank you." Kathryn leaned forward, almost conspiratorially. "Have you spoken with our mothers recently?"

"No. I've been busy with Orions."

"My mother got your mother pregnant."

Belle sat down.

"Belle?"

"How?" Belle was trying wrap her mind around several ideas all at once, not the least of which was how strange having a little sister the same age as her own children would be.

"They don't know, and don't seem all that phased by it. Kate's going to have a field day trying to figure it out. We're all going to have our implants updated just in case, especially since Tuvok has already proved admirably fertile in the past."

Belle snorted. "Tuvok has nothing on a friend of mine. Annika and I are both expecting."

Kathryn's jaw dropped. "Definitely getting those implants updated."

Belle laughed.

==^==

Annika looked up from the pile of chips and circuit bridges spread out on the table as Belle entered their private quarters. She smiled brightly, then raised both eyebrows as she noticed her mate looked slightly shell-shocked. "Beya?"

"My mother is pregnant."

Annika laughed. "Perhaps we should call Deanna."

"That's not as funny as you think. It's Gretchen's baby, unassisted. Kathryn and the rest of the Prime are in hyper-vigilant mode getting new contraceptive implants." Her mention of the Prime, sobered her and she gentled her tone and knelt next to Annika. "Be'nal, Seven, B'Elanna and Laren have been separated from the others."

Annika sobbed, and buried her face into Belle's chest. It was awhile until the immediate sorrow passed. But eventually the Human pulled back and queried, "What happened?"

"There was an ambush, and the TUE was accidentally engaged. Seven, Laren and B'Elanna were in a shuttle that got pulled into the wake, but didn't make the transition with them. Kathryn and the others are searching for them, but its slow going, between the need to return to their own universe and the engine cool down."

Annika sat up, and set her shoulders. "There must be something we can do. Somehow...maybe." She looked at Belle, "You said the shuttle got pulled along in the wake?"

Belle nodded her head in confirmation.

A faraway look came into Annika's eyes, and one hand began to sketch an erratic pattern in the air.

Belle recognized the expression and fetched a handful of datatablets, as well as paper and a stylus. Pulling up a stool, she sat back to watch fascinated. She had no doubt that whatever Annika was thinking about would be phenomenal, and beyond any chance she had of comprehending it. Beyond a doubt, this woman was the most intelligent one in this Universe, and possibly several others. Even more amazing, Annika loved her, Belle.

She continued to watch, as without seeming to be aware she was moving, Annika made her way from the table to the porthole and after staring outside for a minute, rested one hand on her abdomen and with her left, began writing equations across the window.

Oh yeah, thought Belle, this was going to be good.

==^==

Kathryn entered the Nest again. T'Pel was there to greet her with kisses and to help her strip down. Between kisses and being drawn back to the bed, she gave them the news; starting with the fact that the contact had been successful and their mothers and sister-in-laws wished them joy.

"Oh, and by the way, Miral, Belle and Annika are pregnant."

The responses ranged from merriment to genuine pleasure. Once on the bed, she received kisses from each of them. Then she knelt back as she was not quite finished. She gazed warmly at Kate. "Ah, but there is more. While Belle and Annika happened by their little miracles the usual way, apparently and without the assistance of a medical professional or technology, Gretchen made Miral pregnant."

The consternation rippled through the room. Kathryn grinned at Kate. "They thought they might gift you with the mystery. They haven't even tried to figure it out."

Kate guffawed, unwilling to hide her delight in the puzzle. "Well, it will certainly give me something to think about."

"I thought so, too." She leaned over and kissed her mate warmly. Then she sat back again and said, "Well, and the hints were there, weren't they. Since the original mating bond does seem to dissolve the implants, I'd say that we were fortunate that the Doctor caught the changes. Fortunately, we all have updated implants."

There was a spike of emotion that all of them picked up on. Ezri blinked as their attention was suddenly focused on her. Then she said, "Trill don't have implants. It's standard procedure. We don't…uh…see, it's not possible. The genetics are such that there has never been a Trill hybrid without a great deal of medical intervention. Ever."

"Ezri," Kathryn began slowly. Then she stopped. She opened her arms. "Come here."

The Trill accepted the invitation. Kathryn kissed her warmly and pressed her lips to Ezri's temple. Then she said, "Beloved, given the unusual circumstances which make us who we are, perhaps we must consider the possibility that you may need an implant."

"Yes, Kathryn."

==^==

The real world business of being The Truth Seeker dealt with for the day, Deanna had retired to her quarters hoping to find her mates in a state of dishabille. She entered the room and smiled, seeing all that all three women were, in fact, very much less than decently attired.

Before she could join Jadzia in the bath, or join Ezri and Nerys, who looked to be playing an interesting game with chocolate, the comm unit chirped. "Yes."

"Incoming priority communication from General Torres."

"Put it through."

She sat at her comm unit, Belle appearing on screen almost immediately.

"Hello, Deanna."

"Belle, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She dipped her head respectfully. Jadzia had left the bath and was kneeling just out of view, one hand tracing along her thigh comfortingly.

"Annika seems to think that things between you and the Intendant are serious enough that a bonding might be in order soon, and thought we should warn you."

Deanna sat upright, trying to use the visual clues and Belle's tones to decipher what kind of warning was in order, and why Annika of all people thought it needed to be said. "Regarding?" She tried to keep her tone neutral.

"My Mother is pregnant by her mate." Belle said.

"But isn't Gretchen…" she didn't finish the sentence, instead changing tack, since the implications were now clear. "Are you suggesting there's something about a Presban mating bond that made that possible?"

"I don't know, Mother seems not to care, and Dr. Kate hasn't reported back yet, but Annika thought you should know."

"I, and my mates, are grateful you thought of us." Deanna used the cover of courtesy to reveal that she had, in fact, undergone a bonding.

Belle looked uncomfortable, and then gave a shy half-grin. "We're family. And congratulations to you and your new mates. Torres out."

Deanna was dead certain she wasn't pregnant, but she took a cursory look just in case, and then looked at Jadzia, who smirked.

"Not likely, Deanna, Trill don't hybridize well. At all, actually."

Deanna laughed and nodded to confirm Jadzia's belief, but looked deeply within Ezri anyway, since despite Jadzia's flippant denial, they had two Trill in the group.

Nerys was languidly enjoying having Ezri finger-paint a long path of chocolate spots down the length of her body, and anticipating having her mates thoroughly remove them. "I don't know, I think you and Deanna would have beautiful babies."

"I think a baby with Nerys' Bajoran nose ridges and Deanna's Betazoid black eyes and hair would be stunning."

Ezri grinned. "Wouldn't that just shake the Empire?"

Jadzia laughed and become aware that Deanna wasn't laughing but was staring at Nerys. She too turned to look at the Bajoran, as she heard Deanna move to the refresher and return with a med-scanner. In her mind she heard the echo of Deanna laughing. 〈〈Shhh.〉〉

Just at that moment Nerys looked up, and saw the matching shocked expressions on Deanna's and Jadzia's faces. One glimpse of the scanner and she knew. "Oh no. No way."

"Hold still." Ezri was still adding to the trail of spots, once more completely absorbed by the task.

"This is not funny. I can't be pregnant. Unh-unh. No way. Not me."

Ezri looked up. "Nerys is pregnant? That's great. Weird and, very, well, weird. But good, right?"

Deanna and Jadzia started laughing, and Jadzia managed to choke out a few words. "It's good. And even better you think so."

Nerys shot two dagger glares at the women, then her eyes widened as she registered what Jadzia was implying. She rounded on Ezri. "You got me pregnant!" She lapsed into Bajoran, and they all lost the thread of the imprecations.

Ezri blinked, and then a slow grin spread across her face. "I think, my love, that makes us even."

"Even? You. Got. Me. Pregnant." Each word was punctuated with a light swat.

Ezri winked at Deanna and Jadzia, who oddly, winked back. "You tried to kill me. Call it even?" Then she stood up, gentling her voice, but unable to hide her amusement completely. "Ivaya, I love you. And I'll love the baby. Spots and nose ridges sound damn cute to me."

Nerys looked at Ezri, then at Deanna and Jadzia trying to figure out what to say. It was Deanna's complete inscrutability and Jadzia's barely restrained mirth that twigged her suspicions. "Give me that." She grabbed the med-corder.

"Nerys?" Ezri peered over her shoulder and read the text on the screen, then started to laugh.

"Oh, so you think its funny do you?" Nerys growled and advanced on the younger Trill, who speedily backed away and ducked behind Deanna.

"Yes?" Ezri pulled her head completely behind Deanna.

Jadzia started laughing again. "If you could have seen the look on your face…"

"You. Got. Me. Pregnant." Deanna repeated Nerys' verbal attack, joining in the teasing.

Nerys folded her arms, but couldn't hold her anger. It was funny, she just wasn't quite ready to admit it, and part of her was surprised to feel a sense of loss. "That's a dangerous game. What if it had been true?"

Deanna sobered and answered for them all. "Then we would be having a baby."

As though sensing they had pushed the merriment as far as they could, they all moved toward her.

Nerys could feel it palpably, their love wrapping around her and with it the echoes of joy and acceptance. It didn't matter when or if, they would love her regardless, just as they did now. Nerys sank into Deanna's arms needing to be grounded for an instant, and then looked up at them, joining in their play. "Yes, well remember, revenge is the best revenge."

==^==

The Nest was quiet, its occupants sleeping or nearly so. Ezri was curled up against Lwaxana, idly playing with the Betazoid's long red curls. A tentative exploration of their bond and a quick glance for confirmation revealed that Lwaxana was just as awake as she was. Amused, she looked at the spent heap that was Tuvok, T'Pel and Kate, secretly chortling that she had outlasted the Vulcans, and somewhat impressed that Kate had worn them out.

She stretched and shifted so that she could see more of Lwaxana's face, studying its planes and lines, drinking in the dark irises turned coal in the light. "It's so strange to me that you're Deanna's mother."

"How so, beloved?"

Ezri blushed. She hadn't meant to speak aloud to begin with.

Lwaxana laughed, delightedly. "You are not the first person who's been attracted to my daughter, who I also found attractive."

Now Ezri laughed, then swung around so they were facing. "Worf." She guessed, grinning.

"He does have a nice sword." Lwaxana leaned forward and gently kissed the Trill. They exchanged pleasant kisses and light caresses for several minutes, neither trying to arouse the other, but merely enjoying each other's company.

"This is nice," said Ezri, when the kisses tapered off, though they continued to stroke and brush against each other.

"In what way, Darling?" Lwaxana actually had a good sense of what Ezri meant, but wanted to hear it from her mate, wanted to form a more tangible real-world connection to the woman. Making love was wonderful, but she wanted Ezri to know her.

"I think this is the first time you and I have really been alone together." Ezri let a mischievous curl grace her lip. "Usually, I'm thoroughly engrossed in watching you and Laren, or you with T'Pel."

Lwaxana took the opportunity to deepen the conversation, feeling strongly that Ezri needed to talk about the last few days and the impact of joining the Prime only to have it split almost immediately. "And it was Seven you fell in love with, then Laren."

"I have loved Laren for a long time, since I met her almost. And yes, I'm completely nuts about Seven, and I do love you all." She paused to consider what she was going to say. "What happened this time was not like before when I was scared that this wouldn't happen, and I was getting in too deep. It was more like, losing them tore away my foundation, and I was so numb and raw, that the memories and patterns of my previous Hosts took over, probably to protect Dax. And well, Joran and I have history." It had probably not been a good idea to undergo the Rite of Emergence with Joran Dax before the Rite of Closure, but it was too late to worry about it now.

"You seem more settled now."

"I think that's true. But then you're right about part of it too. I may have feelings for you all, but I didn't know you as well separately as I do now, and without Seven, and Laren..." Ezri winked at Lwaxana, "...and B'Elanna, just don't tell her I said it, I wasn't sure how to grab hold. I wanted to, but I couldn't seem to."

Lwaxana sensed there was more there, and when Ezri turned to look at Kate, she didn't need to read the Trill to know she was conflicted about something to do with the blonde Human. "And Kate?" She prompted.

"It feels like Kate and I have this long history. But some of that started with Curzon, and some of it is from when I was a Tigan and not a Dax. I just needed to know it was me, first. And," Ezri paused, and looked away. "I don't think she's going to get anymore visits from Curzon for awhile."

Lwaxana used the brief lull to lean over and kiss the whorl of spots on Ezri's shoulder, carefully maintaining the intimacy of the moment. "It should only be a matter of days before you can do the zhian'tara, beloved. All will be well."

Ezri took a deep breath and met Lwaxana's eyes, trusting her mate to understand what she was about to say. "Except that I won't be doing it. Not until we get them back." Deliberately, she dropped her guards, yielding herself to Lwaxana, trying to convey over their bond that she was open and ready.

A rush of images tugged at her and Lwaxana heard Ezri's request and silent plea, so she honoured it and looked. Impressions of the seven zhian'taras previous and an assortment of Rites of Emergence flitted through her mind and she drank the imagery along with the emotion. Leaning forward again, she pulled Ezri close, and laid a new path of kisses along her forehead and eyelids. All she could do was nod in acquiescence.

"Eight hosts, eight of you. Unless one of you refuses, I won't share this with anyone but you." But Ezri knew, they loved her, all of her. They would say yes, and would know her even as she became known to herself. Slowly, she increased the urgency in her kisses, until she could feel Lwaxana's desire through the touch of her skin, her mind and their bond. Then she whispered in Lwaxana's ear. "Make love to me."

"Always, and forever, beloved." Lwaxana promised. She had seen it. Everything they were, all that they felt would go on, preserved and enshrined in the memory of Ezri Dax.

In the gamma-Universe, Captain Kathryn Janeway was aware that until the last few days, she had not truly considered the impact that a single individual could have on a vessel; only in this case it was three very singular women. It wasn't just the sense of renewed purpose that pervaded the ship, there was also an amelioration of the subtle psychic wounds that had been sapping the strength of the crew in subconscious, but profound ways. Her mind instantly grabbed that thought and an image of the two Sevens walking together down the corridor, engaged in animated and smiling conversation, flashed to mind.

Their conversation was several levels above what the average eavesdropper could have followed. However, what stood out was the completely comfortable casualness in which they walked, barefoot and dressed quite informally. Seven Torres' hand movements had been expressive; while Seven of Nine's facial expression had reflected positive regard for her counterpart.

What had been eye-opening, however, was the difference in body language of those who happened to flow around them. Yes, there were those who turned to look and appreciate, but there was a whimsy in the expressions, which had replaced the hardness and suspicion that had been there in the past.

Kathryn's expression changed from amusement to a personal despair and she wondered, not for the first time, how she could have let it get so bad, how she could have failed Seven of Nine so completely.

Her lips quirked, in self-effacing humor, as she lifted the fresh cup of coffee for a sip. Of course, it helped that right now - on her ship - there were two Sevens, two B'Elannas and two Larens. All of whom had made it a personal goal to not only build the engine that would rescue them, but to improve the personal circumstances of Voyager in all ways reasonably possible.

Captain Janeway smiled at Ensign Celes. "Tal, I'm going to go to the lab and check on their progress. Please hold the fort."

"Aye, Captain." The Bajoran smiled warmly as Kathryn exited the ready room, then continued working on the hefty stack of paperwork left to do. Not once had Kathryn had reason to criticize Tal's effectiveness or work ethic. She took to administrative assistance like a duck to water.

Sometimes, thought Kathryn, it really is good to get an outside perspective.

==^==

The engine was taking shape nicely. What Kathryn recalled as mere framework, had quickly gained body and line. It was obviously not complete, but she could perceive the pattern of it.

She was surprised by how mundane it looked. It would not be out of place on any starship, let alone Voyager. If she were to stumble on the engine on an alien ship she would have assumed that it was an ordinary part of a vessel.

Kathryn smiled at the engineers in the area and then exited the lab in search of Lieutenant Torres. She entered engineering proper and spotted Lieutenant Ballard. "Where's the Chief?"

The engineer, who was looking a little rumpled and harried, pointed upwards. "They're all up there. Some sort of efficiency upgrade."

"Is it working?"

She considered and then said, "I think, given who's making those changes, yeah. It'll work."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

"You're welcome, Captain."

"Carry on."

The engineer passed by her and she continued on her way, eventually mounting the stairs that led to the secondary level of engineering. Sure enough, she spotted four figures gathered around one console station. They had obviously taken it apart and were putting it back together again, all while in animated conversation.

As she drew closer, she was suddenly aware that the conversation was in no way related to engineering, astrometrics or anything even mildly scientific. "So, then Belle said…"

B'Elanna Troi was partially tucked underneath the console and could not possibly have seen Kathryn, but she stopped in the middle of what she was about to say and said, "Oh. Hi, Captain." Then she scooted out and sat up so that her arms were resting around her knees.

The others greeted the Captain too, in a strange kind of tandem.

"Ladies. I see you are making progress."

"When we have finished, your maximum safe warp capacity up will increase from 9.2 to 9.33 without increasing the power requirements."

Now they had her attention. That was an increase of point one three, and quite a boost at that end of the scale. "Without touching the warp engine?"

"The warp engine is functioning as it should," Seven said. She gazed at the bright column for a moment. Then she added the qualifier. "It also could be improved. However, that would not maximize efficiency at this time. It would be better to get to a functioning space station, where the capacity for immediate departure would not be a necessity."

"Meaning, you can't work on it like it needs while we're on the go. But you can take apart consoles and rewire them." Kathryn translated.

The Sevens looked at each other, then at Kathryn and said, at the same time, "Precisely."

"And you two have just gone along with it."

"Well, I don't know about your Chief here, but when my Be'nal says fixing some programming and a few circuits will improve something by that much, I'm going to try it."

"And I…" B'Elanna paused and said, "Why did I say yes again?"

"I promised to tell you about how our sister lost her eye to the Hive."

"Oh, right. I'm just here for the story."

Bemused, Kathryn looked at the four women, and then looked at the console. Finally she said, "As you were. Please let me know when the improvements are in place. I am sure Lt. Stadi will want to try it out."

"Will do, Captain."

==^==

Meeting the four women caused Kathryn to wonder where a certain Bajoran was located. She knew where Commander Ro was. She tapped her communicator "Computer, please locate Commander Hansen Laren, please."

"Lt. Commander Hansen Laren is located in Cargo Bay 2 on storage level two."

Curious, and because she hadn't approached cargo bay since its recent transition, the Captain opted to go see the new layout for herself. Finally.

She had been avoiding the area; partly because she had been genuinely busy, but also because there had been a time when nocturnal visits to the space had been a common past-time for her. Not recently. She had given up those visits, just as she had distanced herself from the young woman who was the reason for those visits.

Now though, Kathryn realized that the avoidance had been a mistake. She had, essentially, deserted Seven of Nine just when the Borg needed someone most.

With a sigh, Captain Janeway headed for the turbo-lift. It was time to face what had changed.

==^==

It was fantastic. The cargo bay was actually quite busy and Captain Janeway recognized the individuals who were part of Tom Paris' team transporting and carrying what looked like large, heavy, supply crates. She looked up and spotted Hansen.

She made her way up to the second level and, again, before she could say anything, she was greeted. Laren turned around and smiled, "Hello, Captain."

"Commander." She looked about the rapidly filling space. "This is quite impressive."

"Tom did a good job. We have pretty much everything we need, as well as a few other supplies that might come in handy, just in case."

"Aren't you confident the TUE will do its job?"

"Oh, the TUE will work. It's the getting where we want to go that will be tricky. The mathematics are the Prophet's Test themselves." Hansen shrugged, it was her job to get the supplies, she didn't need to understand the math.

"I see." Kathryn looked over and down at the other side of the cargo bay. "Those are the quarters?"

"They are. Would you like to see them?" A look flashed over Kathryn's face that was enough to cause the Bajoran to touch the Captain. "Perhaps another time."

Kathryn gave her a slightly wilted smile. "Perhaps." Then she regrouped. "Well, I see you are well occupied. Please tell Tom that I'm happy with the progress."

"I will, Captain." Concern was still on the Bajoran's face.

Kathryn retreated to formality and tugged down her jacket. "As you were."

==^==

The boisterousness from engineering had carried over, and the four of them were draped over various cushions on the floor of B'Elanna Torres' quarters, and she was enjoying the company. It was good to be social again. "You should probably just call me Lanna, I'm starting to get a headache trying to figure out if someone wants you or me."

B'Elanna Troi regarded her thoughtfully, and then nodded. "I was just getting the hang of figuring it out by context."

Lanna laughed and the two former drones exchanged raised brows.

Miral was crawling around on the floor, eagerly searching for any of the forgotten bits of brownies that were left from their earlier snacking.

Seven studied the little girl intently, noting her pale blue eyes, and the delicate brow ridges that were less distinct, but, like her colouring were a perfect match for her mother's. The child, as if sensing the scrutiny, made a bee-line for her, and she let Miral hoist herself up using her body as support.

Smiling faintly, she noticed B'Elanna watching her, and felt the strong blanket of love and pleasure that her mate sent along the bond.

"When we get back home, Be'nal."

Seven signed back, "I love you."

The baby chose that moment to transfer her interest to Seven of Nine, clearly fascinated by the long blonde hair that fell over her shoulders.

Lanna watched anxiously as her daughter moved between the two ex-drones, oblivious to what had passed between B'Elanna and Seven.

Seven of Nine fought down her anxiety, but she held out her right hand and allowed Miral to get a grip, assisting the child to find enough purchase to scramble closer to her goal. Surreptitiously, she looked to see if Lt. Torres would react negatively.

It still confused her, most of the time the four of them interacted with a great deal of harmony, but, occasionally, B'Elanna Torres would rebuke her or be curt in a way that she never was with Lady Seven. She half expected the engineer to rip the child out of her arms.

Knowing herself, and who she used to be, and more, willing to admit it and learn from it, B'Elanna interjected, with a smile. "Must be the hair, Be'nal. Though, if she knew what I know, I bet she'd crawl back over to you."

Seven raised her ocular implant, appreciating the innuendo, but at a loss as to why B'Elanna had felt the need to engage in it. "Indeed."

B'Elanna smirked. "Yep. All the best toys blink and light up."

Seven understood then exactly what B'Elanna was doing, as all eyes turned her way, and the presence of Miral tugging on Seven of Nine's hair was relegated to the background.

Lanna took a long pull of her drink, and laughed. "Kahless, Lady Seven. You're an engineer's wet dream."

B'Elanna swatted her counterpart with a pillow. "Mine."

Having been knocked backwards, Lanna used her arms to help her return to a sitting position. She was still chuckling. As she sat up, Seven of Nine and Miral came back into her field of vision.

Miral was now cradled, contentedly, against Seven of Nine's chest, one hand curled in her hair, the other balled in a fist in her mouth. And was that humming?

B'Elanna tapped her on the shoulder and helped her up. Reluctantly, Lanna stood and followed the other woman to the kitchen.

"You program the drinks, and I'll do the food."

She nodded her agreement, but didn't take her eyes off the sight in the living room. The two blondes had their heads tilted toward Miral, and there was a distinct sound of singing, too low for her to make out the words, but definitely singing.

"That's how it started for me too." B'Elanna said.

"Hunh?"

"They had just finished their quarters, and I was nosy and wanted to see what they'd done."

"They?"

"Seven and her children. They pretty much kept the whole thing top secret."

Lanna nodded. That part, if nothing else, seemed in character for the Borg.

"Anyway, Seven was busy with Emina, only they hadn't named her that yet, and the rest of the kids were entertaining me. Then I heard the lift. I can still remember standing there watching it descend. Seeing her bare feet, and then the length of her. She didn't know I was there, and she was just staring down at Emina with such adoration and joy. And I knew that I was seeing her, the way she really is, for the first time. Everything slowed down and stopped. I knew exactly who she was to me."

"Yours is at least Human." Lanna tried to distance herself from what she was feeling, taking refuge in familiar approbation. Busy dealing with the conflicting emotions tearing through her, she never saw B'Elanna move, and the next thing she knew she was pinned to the back wall, her mouth covered.

"You had better pray to Kahless that with her Borg enhanced auditory acuity she didn't hear that, because I swear to Kahless, the Prophets, and every other deity in the Universe, I will defend her honour with my bat'leth. Now I'm going to take my hand away, and you are going to listen to me." The growl that punctuated her command was low and feral, and Lanna flinched. "Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

"Get over it. Whatever jealousy you have over Kathryn, over Seven of Nine, the hurt from your father, your mother, whatever it is, let it go." B'Elanna felt a tug on her bond, and looked over enough to see that the other two had left the quarters, and she relaxed her hold, not wanting to provoke the other Klingon into a pitched battle by restraining her too long. "It's not helping, but it sure as hell is hurting you and the people around you."

Lanna was about to scream back, then stopped. B'Elanna wasn't some Starfleet counselor, or do-gooder trying to reclaim the wayward Klingon. She was Lanna herself, under slightly different conditions. And given what she'd said, those conditions hadn't been too dissimilar. "She confuses the hell out of me."

B'Elanna surprised her by laughing. "And if you're a tenth as lucky as I am, she'll confuse the hell out of you for the rest of your life."

"She really blinks?"

"Like fireworks on Zephram Cochrane Day." B'Elanna saw the brief flash of speculation, and decided to push the envelope just a bit farther. "Of course, some of those implants also vibrate."

Lanna turned several shades of crimson, and B'Elanna thought the woman might stop breathing altogether. She grabbed one of the drinks Lanna had replicated and lifted it in silent toast, thinking Ezri would be damned proud.

==^==

Bottle of spring wine, and two glasses in hand, Laren let herself into holodeck two. She wasn't the least bit surprised to find her counterpart running a simulation of home, she was surprised to find that instead of Bajor itself, it appeared to be a version of Deep Space 9. "I can't believe this place exists here too."

Ro Laren looked up from were she was watching holo-characters bustle about on the promenade. "Cardassians build yours?"

"Yeah. But there's another Universe, not quite a mirror of ours where the Humans ruled through cruelty, blew it and were conquered by their slaves. Now the Klingons rule. Bajor was never subjugated by Cardassia, because they're too busy cleaning up political messes in their sector. The station is there, though. Terok Nor. It's just as damned ugly too."

"You come to offer me a drink and a shoulder?" Ro turned and leaned back against the rail.

"Yes to the drink, no to the shoulder. Do you need one?" Prophets, Laren wondered if she were this hard to talk to. Probably.

"No. You?"

Laren considered. "Sometimes." She handed Ro the glasses, pulled the cork, which she'd already loosened from the bottle, and poured each of them a full glass.

"Toast?" Ro asked.

"Doesn't seem to be one appropriate enough."

"Prophets, isn't that the truth." She stared at Hansen, and then shrugged. What the hell. "You married Janeway?"

Laren took a sip of her wine, and leaned against the railing, sideways to her companion. "Well, my mates and I formed the House as an act of marriage. But it wasn't a traditional kind of thing. In fact, other than T'Pel and Tuvok, who had a time-honored Vulcan wedding, the closest we came was with Ezri." She heard her voice catch, and she wondered how Kate and Ezri were faring.

"Ezri Tigan?"

Laren snorted. "You too?"

"Oh, yeah." Ro Laren actually smiled. "She get cold feet?"

Not given to laughter normally, Laren couldn't help laughing now. "Just the opposite. She met us stark naked, flanked by Worf and the Emissary of the Prophets, and announced we were eloping."

"The Emissary is in your Universe?" Her face clouded over.

Laren nodded. "He is."

"Not here."

The stood together drinking the wine and ruminating. Laren had never considered herself particularly religious. The camps beat that out of most Bajorans, and those that ended up in the Maquis were an even more secular lot. The Emissary had never mattered much to the people of Bajor, only to the Kais and Vedics. "That just seems wrong." Judging by the spectacular earring the other Bajoran wore, the Bajor here had been very devout.

"You mean there are things that seem right?"

Laren wondered what they were talking about now, but it didn't matter, not for her, not any longer. A day by the lake with Seven had changed that forever. "There are."

"The wine is good." Ro offered, noncommittally.

"You can thank the apprentice hedonists of House Presba for that. Kate's shuttle is better provisioned than a Risan resort."

Ro didn't respond and had turned back to face the Promenade below. Laren debated whether to say anything else or let it go, and leave. After a long minute, she reached over and poured more wine into her counterpart's glass, before joining her in watching the bustle below. Much could be said in silence.

==^==

Kathryn entered Astrometrics. Megan Delaney immediately stood at attention, though Lady Seven did not, nor did she look up from her work. The Captain's expression quirked and she said to Ensign Delaney, "As you were."

The young woman relaxed and turned back to her panel. Lady Seven greeted Kathryn pleasantly, if somewhat distractedly. Then, when she was finished inputting data, she turned to the Captain. "How may I be of assistance?"

Kathryn waved a PADD lightly. "I was wondering if you had a little time to go over some of these specs with me. I'd like some clarification before I approve."

"Of course, Kathryn. Would thirty minutes from now be convenient?"

"It would. You mind if we talk in my ready room? I'm having lunch delivered from the mess hall." Kathryn had never bothered to enforce her rule about being called by her given name while on duty.

"It sounds quite adequate."

"I'm glad you approve." Kathryn smiled. Over the past few days, lunch or dinner meetings had become a common occurrence between them. Their discussions did cover the important topics of the day, but also ranged in flavor and she had come to appreciate the Mistress of House Presba in her own right. "I'll see you in a half hour."

"I look forward to it."

==^==

Finished with lunch as well as their ship related business, they were taking a few minutes to converse before Ensign Celes returned from her own lunch break.

Kathryn sat back in the chair and tucked her legs underneath her as she relaxed into the moment. She lifted the cup and sipped, then said. "I'm curious about the Zakeeri. You mentioned that there are quite a few on board. How did that happen?"

"Before we encountered the Zakeeri, my Kathryn had already decided to implement changes that she felt would be beneficial for the ship," Seven began. "She arrived at the conclusion that it was time to consider adding crew after, of course, the appropriate training and indoctrination into fleet ideals."

"Fascinating."

==^==

Seven Torres and B'Elanna Troi entered the turbo-lift on the way to their quarters. It had been a long day, fruitful in its work but challenging too. They were both looking forward to seeing Laren, deciding what to do for dinner, and relaxing in each other's company.

B'Elanna was still reading about some new specifications on her PADD and pondering what to do about them as the door the lift closed. She heard, peripherally, Seven state their destination.

She smiled, realizing just how much she loved her Be'nal's voice. The lift began moving at its usual swift speed. B'Elanna decided that she had enough of schematics and tucked the PADD in her jacket. Then she turned to speak to her mate.

There was a sound, grinding and harsh, then some electronic noises. Seven reached over quickly, pulling B'Elanna close. She lifted her mate slightly, and then set her down gently so that she was standing on Seven's feet. Then the Borg wrapped her arms tightly around B'Elanna. This all happened in heartbeats, mere seconds before the lift abruptly halted.

Both Seven and B'Elanna remained standing, but pieces of panel took their leave of the lift.

As the dust settled, B'Elanna said, "You know. I'd almost forgotten what it was like."

Seven was looking up at the ceiling, and then she looked down. "The safety mechanisms are working correctly. There should be no more shocks. But there are several items that will need to be replaced. While we can repair the minor damage, we will probably have to wait for engineering."

"Damn. How long?"

"Three hours, if they come right away."

"Oh, they're coming alright…" Then she remembered. Not her ship. She gave her mate a sheepish smile. "Perhaps you had better make the call. I don't think I can be civil to anyone but you or Laren at this moment."

"As you wish, Bang'wI." Seven tapped her communicator and contacted engineering. She explained their dilemma.

"We'll be there as soon as possible, Seven, but it might be a half an hour," said the engineer on duty.

"Understood. Lady Torres out."

B'Elanna snickered. "I see you found a rank you liked."

"We could request transport." Seven suggested, ignoring the conversational gambit.

"No, we can't. This isn't an emergency, we're not in any danger. Wanting to go home to ravish you and Laren thoroughly isn't reason enough to burn energy on a site-to-site."

Seven looked at B'Elanna who appeared even grumpier, despite her even response. She made a decision and tapped her communicator to contact their mate. When Laren answered, she explained and said, "It will be some time before we are able to return to our quarters, beloved. Perhaps you ought to carry on without us."

"It won't be the same."

"No, but enjoy yourself anyway." B'Elanna interjected, speaking into Seven's communicator.

"Love you."

"And we you. We will be there as soon as we are able. Seven out." Seven looked at her mate, then rather than say anything, she began carefully picking up the debris and moved it to the side of the wall.

Then, when she was satisfied, she sat down and leaned against the wall herself. B'Elanna was still glowering. Seven finally said, "Bang'wI, may I have a moment of your time?"

It took a moment, but the Klingon shook off what was bothering her and looked at her mate. "What can I do for you, my love?"

Seven patted the ground and said, "Come sit beside me." She flavored the request with emotions of warmth and love.

B'Elanna chuckled, knowing what her mate was doing, and did as requested, settling in close as Seven wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She snuggled in a little. "At least I didn't throw a spanner."

"Nor a PADD."

"I didn't even rip off one of the handrails."

Seven looked surprised. She glanced at her mate. "You have done that?"

"Oh, several times. I figured I could always put them back."

Seven felt a chuckle of her own rise.

B'Elanna smiled, gratified. "These poor turbo-lifts. They serve so many, for so long. And we keep demanding they continue on, even as their bolts and gears give out."

"Turbo-lifts do not have gears."

"Figure of speech, Be'nal."

"It reminded you, more than anything else, what it used to be like."

"Yes. And I guess I was a little furious that my …uh…other sister was still dealing with it."

"She has been more than adequate to the task."

B'Elanna grinned and leaned in closer. "Yeah, she has. I have to give her that. She's dense about what matters, but is otherwise smart and capable."

"And what matters?"

"You." B'Elanna paused, and rephrased. "Well, always you, to me. But I was referring to this universe's version of you."

"They will figure it out for themselves, when it is time."

"You believe that?"

Seven contemplated for a moment and said, "The statistics support it."

"All two universe's worth, eh."

Seven smiled and said, "Three universes. They are, after all, engaged in pre-mating ritual. It's enough to begin the theory."

Now B'Elanna laughed fully. "Oh, I love you, my Lady Seven Torres. I love you more every day."

"And I you."

There was another pleasant length of silence between them. Then Seven said. "Bang'wI."

"Yes?"

"This is a turbo-lift."

"I am aware of that."

"In another Universe."

"I think that's been established."

"On Voyager."

"Seven…."

"I believe this qualifies as one that we have never …"

B'Elanna interrupted by sitting upright and turning and staring at Seven. Then, she grinned. "Kahless. You're right." She leaned forward and kissed her mate hard. Her eyes were alight with mischief. "Tell me, my mate, would you like to play turbo-lift strip?"

"A new game, invented by you, I take it."

"Yes. It begins like this. I take all your clothes off and then make love to you."

"I am intrigued by this new game and would like to play it."

B'Elanna leaned forward again and grasped the collar of Seven's jacket. "Oh good. Because I want to play it too."

In Universe Beta, Sela had come to a resigned appreciation of what Priam referred to as the long distance relationship. The calls they exchanged at designated times had become something she anticipated with great enthusiasm. She missed them when events prevented them from happening. She embraced them whenever they were possible.

She greeted the Betazoid warmly. "Hello, Priam."

"Sela. As usual, it's a delight to see you."

"You look as if you've had a difficult day."

"Old habits can be challenging to overcome. We've started a new semester, which means new students. Some who understand they must earn this degree and others who do not."

"And your Orions?"

Priam had come to treasure that Sela was one to get right to the point. "They cope very well. They use it as an opportunity." Then she grinned. "They're making the first semester students train the second."

"A venerable strategy."

"I am realizing. I just… I don't like it when my people do not get the respect they deserve."

"And the consequence for disrespect?"

"The students fail. We lost half the cohort this last go around."

"Yet, you kept half." Sela sat back, smiling. "Did you get any re-applications?"

Priam looked thoughtful, then said, "Actually, we did have quite a few."

"Then it is working. I advise patience."

Now the Counselor grinned. "You do?"

"Oh, yes. It seems that is all I have been learning lately. It does have some side benefits."

"Oh?"

Sela winked, "Well, it certainly builds anticipation."

Priam hissed a little. "Oh, I know. I truly know. It's been the full moons here. If I haven't been working, every other thought has been…" She blushed. "About you."

Sela leaned forward. "Really. And what have you been thinking about me?"

The Betazoid leaned forward too, reflecting Sela's posture. Her expression was very near feral. "I have been thinking, that if you were here, you would not have to worry about leaving the room for days."

Sela laughed in delight.

Yes. She really looked forward to these calls.

==^==

Chakotay had found, once he arrived at Qo'nos, that things were very different for him. He wasn't sure what he expected, perhaps that he would be out wheeling and dealing, but it wasn't that he would be attending Operas, House Parties, ad hoc committee meetings, or sessions of the Unified Planets of the Empire, which had a quite unexpected number of delegates. Of course, the UP council did not rule. They were ruled. But that didn't mean the Chancellor wanted to hammer out every detail and every bargain for himself, and so there was a hierarchy.

Not that he was having much success in unraveling the levels of precedence. At one end there were the Intendants of the various sectors, who visited now and then, or the delegates and Ambassadors, of the respective Intendants or their planets. At another level entirely there were the judges and lawyers, and then there were truth seekers. A striking number of truth seekers were present in those ambassadorial meetings, and as he watched the political wrangling, he understood why. It kept people marginally honest.

On the other hand, he realized that he should have expected that an Empire as vast as that of the Klingons would have more sophistication to it than just warriors who battled over territory. The territory was already won and it was now a matter of keeping things running in such a way as to benefit the Empire and keep it growing.

Not to say that Klingon directness was not used in the UP Embassy. A battle circle featured prominently in the very center of the wide auditorium. It wasn't just a place for speeches; there were blood stains on those floors.

It made him grateful that he had listened to Kathryn and had let his team of Klingons train him in some of the intricacies of interaction in Klingon Society. In fact, because of his Oath to House Presba, he was considered Klingon and fully expected to behave in a manner that would uphold the honor of the House, which meant, that if it came to battle, he must conduct it, one way or the other.

Fortunately, no one had yet challenged him. Partially because he was still staying behind the scenes, trying to learn his way. But, as Ambassador for Universe Alpha, he was given up to five votes. This allotment gave him some marginal affect on the outcome of certain decisions. Thus, ironically, he was wooed by those who had an interest in seeing him use those votes in ways that worked for them.

It made for interesting times.

==^==

Fascination gave way to concern as more than a day after she'd begun, Annika showed no signs of slowing down. All three large windows were covered with diagrams and equations, and Belle had merely sighed as her mate began to write on the walls.

Despite her growing concern, she was pleased with herself. She had no idea what Annika was doing, but had a very good idea that the outcome would result in the retrieval of the missing members of the Prime. To that end, she had, in lieu of understanding or scientific knowledge, employed her tactical experience.

Before fighting any battle, you had to have information, and no piece was too trivial in the planning stages. By that logic, she had gone for information, sending a request to Leah Brahms to transmit everything they had before Voyager left.

She had uploaded the information into the main computer, and spread it across several tablets. For good measure she had hard copies made of some of the more obvious schematics and had tacked them to the wall, though she suspected that Annika had most of them memorized.

Annika just seemed to accept the presence of the diagrams, making notes on some, and ignoring others. Nor did she question the appearance of data in the computer core.

Belle decided that the degree of distraction might work in her favour, so she began setting out small bowls of fruit and vegetables, along with platters of cheeses and the weird little meat pastries Annika liked.

She watched the blonde move from diagram to table, amazed at how graceful her mate was. Generally, Annika moved almost hesitantly, as though each step she took was the result of inaudible permission being given to move. True, she had become much less tentative since joining the ship, but the mannerisms hadn't completely faded away.

Watching her now, Belle could almost forget that Annika had ever been a slave. And in seeing the difference, her heart ached.

The main replicator began to spit parts onto the floor, bringing her back into the moment, and she looked up to see that Annika had wired a tablet to the main panel of the unit.

In awe, she watched as the dispensed circuits and housing were swiftly assembled. Annika stood back up from where she had been sitting on the floor, a small, black box with two connecter ports, in her hand. From the table she picked up a tablet and turned for the first time in almost a day to Belle.

"Call Kathryn." She held them out.

Belle took them reflexively, and then had to juggle them in order to catch Annika, as the blonde's reserves seemed to fail and she sagged toward the floor. Putting the items aside for a minute she lifted Annika and carried her into their room.

Annika stirred briefly. "Tell them…"

"Shhh, Be'nal. You can tell them yourself. Rest now." She kissed Annika lightly and pulled the covers around the exhausted woman.

Returning to the main room, she picked up the tablet and turned it on. Her eyes widened as she read the first lines, and she looked in the bedroom stunned, as the meaning of it sank in.

Variant 752.

==^==

Commander Vah had a few spare moments to contemplate the radical changes in his life. At one time he was a minor warrior in a minor tribe of a minor Kazon clan. Now he was the commander of one of the finest fighting forces in a universe that was not his own.

Warlord Belle Torres of the House Presba had asked him, and his people, to take a select group of people and make something new out of them. Some began as slaves, some began as free beings. Some were male, some were female. Those who had striven and succeeded were to be Marines. Those who washed out would be given both their freedom, if needed, and other duties to serve the Empire.

He smiled fiercely at the weary, panting and pained group who appeared to be stunned that they were even still standing and remembered the day of his own pinning. He thanked the Gods daily for that encounter with Voyager.

Commander Vah nodded to the Shaman, who said a few traditional words. If General Torres found them foreign and odd, she gave no hint. Rather her fierce, stern expression and nod took him to the next step. He didn't even have to read from a list. He knew who his Marines were.

The Kazon called the first name. "Asil."

==^==

Before the advent of the House Presba into her life, there were very, very few people that Deanna Troi could call a friend and mean it. She had many who were loyal to her. She had many who would lay down their lives for her. But there were few who were just friends.

Perhaps it had to do with status. The rank Deanna held was singular and peculiar. It was nearly as high as the Chancellor's in its general impact within the quadrants. She counted as one of the Chancellor's personal advisors. Which meant, that when visiting on Qo'nos, she often visited him and his family personally. It had started as soon as she had become The Truth Seeker of Truth Seekers.

Now she and her mates had a genuine dilemma and there was only one person of whom she could think who had the ear of both the people who were most likely to respond strongly.

Not that marriage wasn't Deanna's prerogative. Everyone, except for slaves, had that right. It was a case of who she mated with. Intendant Kira had duties, just as Deanna had duties. They could not be two places at once, however. Jadzia being a member of House Martok added another layer of complication. She understood then, why her alpha-Universe parents had waited before taking the oath with Ezri Dax. Regular Klingon politics were difficult enough terrain to navigate, but they had nothing on House politics in the Empire.

Deanna made a call.

==^==

"Deanna," The Klingon woman on the view screen was genuinely happy to see the Betazoid. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"K'Ehleyr, you know I just like to call you now and then."

"Ah, but in your eyes I see that something is different."

Deanna leaned forward. "You always were an observant woman." Then she smiled. It wasn't the smile she had been giving her followers lately. It was the one that her mates had seen, the one bright and white, and dangerous.

"Deanna Troi, what a…lovely smile you have."

The Betazoid laughed. "And I have a story to go along with it. Do you have an hour or two?"

"For you. Oh, absolutely I do. Are you coming to visit me?"

"We're five light years away from Qo'nos."

"Wonderful. I shall tell my people to be prepared." There was a pause, then Klingon woman said, "Wait, you said we…"

"Which brings me to the reason for my visit. My mates and I need your advice."

"Mates." K'Ehleyr's gaze sharpened. "Now I really am curious."

Once Voyager returned to the alpha-Universe, they continued their search as planned. On the fourth day of the renewed search, they encountered people during their journey. The Klingons were both ferocious and charming and knew of a Federation far away; one that had grown in the opposite direction and had never threatened their borders.

It could have gone differently, but Commander Troi had been frank with them. "We only have fifteen more minutes and then we'll be gone. It wouldn't be a proper battle at all. Perhaps another time." Her words had amused and intrigued the Klingons and a dialog had begun.

They were curious about a Betazoid that was of a Klingon House and even more interested when they met the Human Commodore who was also a Warlord. By the time the small cultural exchange was really getting started, Commodore Janeway had bid them farewell, warned them not to come too close because of the wake, and Voyager had simply disappeared from view.

Back in the Universe Alpha, Kathryn said, "That went well. Good job, Deanna."

"Well, I can't guarantee success every time, but I thought you might like to be part of the first encounter."

"Good call." Kathryn looked torn. "On the one hand, I'd love to stay and join you in all the first contacts, but…"

"I understand." Deanna paused. "The TUE team believes that we have a strong statistical chance of encountering Klingons again after this. Perhaps I should call you if circumstances prove to be unique."

"I think that would be good. Also, I will talk with the Prime. I think…I think we are close to ready, but I must confirm before I commit."

"Of course, Commodore."

"Record our encounters. I am interested in the cultural divergences, if there are any."

Deanna grinned. "Me too."

==^==

At the end of the fourth day, the Prime discussed and felt around their options. Ezri explained her choice about the Rite of Closure, and, as hoped, the others understood.

"However, it cannot be delayed indefinitely, my Ezri," said Kathryn gently. "I will see if Lt. Commander Keru can be seconded to Voyager."

"I understand. But it is my preference."

"And mine too."

Ezri took a deep breath, she'd considered the matter very carefully, and despite her nervousness, decided now would be a good time to ask. "Kathryn, I need to ask you something."

"What?" Kathryn studied Ezri, searching for a clue as to why the Trill had paled and her eyes had shifted from an electric to almost navy blue.

"Would you be Host to Audrid Dax?"

She didn't even need to think about it. "Of course I will." Kathryn dug into her memories of her recent research. "She was Dax's fourth host, the one that was head of the Trill Symbiosis Commission?"

Ezri nodded. "Yes. She was also a brilliant scientist. I think you'll like her."

"I know I will."

Ezri smiled at that and the discussion continued on to another topic.

It was decided that those that who were not on sabbatical, would resume their full duty rotation again. Ezri and Kate were both feeling more grounded, as were the other mates. They would do what was needed to see that the healthier state continued. Part of the plan included a retreat to the Nest at night. For the time being, no adult of the Prime would sleep alone.

They exited the Nest and rejoined the rest of their family, who were very glad to see them.

==^==

The ship continued to transition from one variant to the next. On one such transition, Tom Paris was startled to see a ship hanging directly in from of them. He was reminded briefly that just when you thought everything was routine, a twist reached out and readjusted what you thought of as normal. He was looking at what he took to be a Klingon ship, the design of which hadn't been in use in his universe for almost fifty years. But there it was, a Bird of Prey, with Federation markings. Before he could comment, they were hailed.

Though the vessel appeared Klingon, the hail contained recognizable Federation signatures that reinforced the registry of the ship. The voice of the person who answered was also very familiar. "This is Captain Worf Rozhenko of the USS Ro'keg. Identify yourself."

Amused by the twists of Inter-Universal First Contact, Commodore Janeway nodded to her First Officer to take the lead. "I am Commander Deanna Troi of the House Presba and First Officer of the Federation Starship Voyager."

"Impossible. Commander Deanna Troi, my wife, is of the House of Martok and is currently serving on this ship. You are an impostor posing as my wife."

"Perhaps if we opened up the visuals, Captain Rozhenko, we might avoid conflict? I assure you, I am who I say I am, and I disagree completely that I am posing as anything other than who I am." Deanna knew from Worf's tone that this this version of the burly Klingon was as by the book as hers, and that that might very well spell trouble.

Communications ended abruptly.

Lieutenant Kim said, "They're raising shields, Commodore."

Deanna turned to the Commodore, "Just a moment, please. I am contacting my counterpart."

Kathryn nodded, but signaled, "Please hurry."

Deanna reached, unsure of what the reception would be. She had not made the attempt in the beta-Universe since her sister was quite a distance away. Here though, it was as nothing to reach across to her other self. She kept the message simple. 〈〈I am Deanna Troi of the House Presba. We come from another Universe. Would you mind asking your husband not to fire upon us?〉〉

There was a sense of shock, of a kind of blind feeling along the senses and Deanna remembered what it was like to only have the feelings of others to rely on, the effort it required to make sense of it all. So, deliberately, she thought warm, receptive thoughts - along with a sense of urgency, which increased when Harry Kim suddenly said, "They're arming weapons."

Commodore Janeway said, "Raise shields."

Deanna heard, as if on a double broadcast, 〈〈Why do I suddenly hear two daughters?〉〉

〈〈Mother?〉〉

〈〈Hello, dear.〉〉

〈〈Please wait. Don't go away. Wait.〉〉 There was hope and urgency in the request.

==^==

Worf looked like he would rather be eating glass. "I apologize for the misunderstanding. We have been battling an Empire called the Dominion. They are shape changers."

Commodore Janeway raised her hand. "Say no more. Our Universe is currently engaged in a similar battle. We also understand the dilemma of doppelgangers." She placed her hand on her hips and offered a smile. "My mate, Lwaxana Troi, has asked me to invite you, your wife, and your children, to dinner. She wishes to meet our grandchildren."

His eyes bulged outward perceptibly. "Your mate?"

"We are the Prime of the House Presba. If you come to dinner, I'll be happy to explain what that means." Then she paused, "On a different note, is this a safe location for you? We can always transition out, if necessary."

"The Dominion have not yet made it to this point. We were considering using this system as a refugee site."

"Well, tell them to beware of the Presban Chaser."

"The what?"

"We'll tell you at dinner."

==^==

Asil, Deanna, and Lwaxana waited in the transporter room for their guests. The communication between Lwaxana and her daughters had been nearly non-stop. The Deanna of this Universe knew what to expect when she and her family arrived.

Thus, nearly as soon as the transporter had delivered them, Deanna Troi-Rozhenko was stepping off the platform and straight into Lwaxana's arms. The two children, Shannara and Eric-Christopher, stood beside Worf watching in rapt attention. Like their father, they had a wonderful crown of forehead ridges, and, like their mother, they had the Betazoid eyes.

Deanna smiled warmly at the niece and nephew that could have, at a different time, been her own children, and then at Worf. "Welcome to Voyager."

==^==

Half of the fun came when introducing the children. "Eric-Christopher and Shannara, these are your aunts and uncles. This is Emina, Barin, Mezoti, Azan, Rebi and Icheb. Children of House Presba, this is your niece and this is your nephew."

The children looked at each other, communicating in the silent way that all children had. Then Barin went and grasped Shannara by the hand, while Mezoti took Eric-Christopher's. Rebi said, in passing, as he took Emina's hand, "We have been working on a project designed to help find our mothers. We have been creating a holographic inter-dimensional map. Would you like to see it?"

It was the first adults of the Prime had heard about it. Commodore Janeway stopped them before they could head off. "My darlings, I would, at some point, like to see this project."

Mezoti smiled slightly, "Of course, Mom. We planned on showing it to you when it was finished."

"I'm sure you did. Have you been working with anyone else?"

"Well, just Naomi."

"And Tal," added Azan.

Kathryn's brow rose at that. Tal was swimming in deeper waters than she claimed to be able to handle. "Ah. Well, all I ask is that none of you try to develop a separate engine at this point."

The flash of looks between the Sochlings set more than one of their parents' hair to stand on end.

T'Pel spoke firmly. "None of the Children of House Presba are to attempt inter-dimensional travel without our supervision, at this time or for any time foreseeable. Understood? Comply."

Again there was that silence. Then there was an almost group sigh. "We will comply."

Ezri added. "We applaud your desire to help, but we can not lose you too. We will discuss this again later. Icheb, why don't you go get Tal so she can join us for dinner. The rest of you are dismissed."

The children did not exactly scurry away, but they also didn't stick around long enough to be told not to go either.

Deanna Troi-Rozhenko said, "Surely they wouldn't…"

"Our children?" said Kate. "Oh, they would and they probably could."

"They would justify it by saying that one ship searching was inefficient," said Kathryn as they moved the discussion to the larger family room.

"Then they would attempt to," Tuvok chose his words carefully. "…borrow a shuttle craft. It is possible they already have and have been working on modifications for it."

Lwaxana said, "Now that they have been caught at it and have promised not to go universe hopping without us, they won't. Our children are precocious, but fortunately well behaved."

Ezri grinned, "Well, not too well behaved. That would be boring."

==^==

The initial conversation largely centered around sharing information. In this universe, the Dominion had conquered a good half of Federation Space. The Federation of Planets, of which the equivalent of the Klingon Empire was a member, had finally created a stable border. It had taken time to find the best strategy. Meanwhile, the Romulans had decided to go their own way. They at least, however, had agreed to a ceasefire in hostilities. The Rozhenkos were part of a team assigned by Admiral Picard to find safe locations at the outskirts of both the Beta and the Alpha quadrants for those individuals who were making an escape from Dominion rule.

The Lwaxana Troi of this universe did not have a son, and had been on Betazed when the Dominion arrived. She had not escaped and they had not heard from her. Indications were that the world had been decimated, but no Betazoid had escaped to tell. Only those who had been off world at the time had been spared. Lwaxana squeezed Deanna Troi-Rozhenko's hand.

Kathryn said, "I'm sorry that we can't stay to help." She looked at her mates and they signaled their agreement. Family was family. "But we would be happy to do an information exchange, if you would like. I believe my Federation and both of my Empires would approve."

"Both of your Empires?"

"Kathryn is a Warlord in the Klingon Empire of two Universes, as is our Epatai."

Worf wouldn't have said it, but he was impressed. This amused his wife, so she asked on his behalf. "How did that happen?"

"It began the first time the Prime were split. Your mother and T'Pel were stolen by the Orion Syndicate and taken to an alternate universe. Naturally we had to find them."

==^==

Their dinner was convivial and amusing. Conversation took many turns as there were many persons to keep it moving.

Mezoti inquired about the status of her niece and nephew's personal weapons training and that led to a philosophical discussion about age limits and bat'leths. The Sochlings were thoroughly disgusted to find out that neither Eric-Christopher nor Shannara were considered old enough for the training. However, they conceded that different cultures had different ways and were somewhat mollified when Worf promised that both would learn when the time came.

Then Barin began tucking into the spiced gagh that was passed around, he was followed by Emina and then, to Worf's great surprise, his own children, who, until that instant, had refused outright to even try the delicacy.

It was at that point that Worf decided he really, really liked this side of Deanna's family.

==^==

Deanna Troi made her way over to corner of the large living room. Ezri looked up at her and grinned, then parted her legs and motioned for Deanna to sit between them. She sat down and leaned against the Trill's shoulder, wrapping her own arms over Ezri's and tucking them against her chest. "It's not like you to hide in a corner during a party."

Ezri's warm breath tickled the side of her neck as a snort of laughter escaped. "All I've been doing lately, it seems, is hiding. Thank you, by the way."

She nodded, not needing Ezri to elaborate. "So, why are you hiding over here?"

There was another laugh and she was squeezed affectionately. "I could have sworn Orsas is the Ship's Counselor."

"She is. And as a counselor yourself, you know what she, I, and you would say to a patient so obviously avoiding the question." Deanna registered Ezri's surprise, and leaned back, settling even deeper into the embrace.

Ezri rested her chin on Deanna's shoulder, weighing her thoughts. "I wasn't hiding, I was observing. And thinking."

Ordinarily, Deanna would have carried through on the family joke and asked if they should be worried, instead she prompted Ezri to continue. "About?"

"I was watching Worf and Deanna T-R, and how terrific they are, and in our Universe you and Worf were good once, and you still have this really amazing friendship. At Kate's oath taking, Chancellor Worf kept pretending to watch Lwaxana, but he couldn't keep his eyes off your counterpart. I thought he'd leave with Jadzia, Nerys and that Deanna, instead of Belle and Annika. And look at Belle and Annika, Seven and B'Elanna, in both Universes there's something really unique there. Even me, with Chancellor Worf and our Worf, or me and Ezri Tigan with Intendant Kira. It's got me thinking about the levels of connection across Universes. Like no matter what Universe I go to, those connections will be there, almost reflections in a prism. Maybe not exactly the same, but there, and solid. Comforting even." Ezri drew in a breath, and decided that she had expressed as much introspection as the occasion would permit, and opted for levity. "Of course, there's probably some Universe where you got stuck with me."

The self-effacing humour was back, and Deanna relaxed, knowing Ezri had come through the sudden changes of being mated and separated in quick succession intact. "That Universe wouldn't know what hit it." She paused. "We'd most likely be in charge of a Risan Empire."

Ezri laughed. "I think you'd have to be willing to get out of bed to conquer an Empire."

"I've kissed you. You most certainly would be able to conquer an Empire from your bed."

"Sex as the ultimate weapon. Surrender or orgasm."

Deanna burst out laughing, drawing the attention of the other adults.

"Do we need to separate you two?" Kathryn asked, eyes twinkling.

"No, Commodore." They said in unison, once again surrendering to their laughter.

"You are both incorrigible." Lwaxana said fondly, and then nudged Asil. "Go save your wife from my wife, before Ezri corrupts her completely."

Asil crossed the room, but instead of helping Deanna up, she sat on the edge of the chair and folder her body around both women. "I believe the expression is, if you cannot beat them, then join them."

The entire group, save Worf, T'Pel and Tuvok, looked startled and then began to laugh.

==^==

Lwaxana handed her daughter two disks. 〈〈This you may share with anyone. It contains information about the Penetrator Shield and many other modifications to weapons, shields, armor and uniforms, which you will find useful. This is a family disk. It is only for those who are family.〉〉

〈〈Thank you, Mother. We do appreciate it.〉〉

〈〈I know, Darling.〉〉 Lwaxana drew Deanna in for a long hug. 〈〈We will be back when we can, to visit. But it will be awhile.〉〉

〈〈I understand. We are...〉〉 Deanna choked up a little. 〈〈We are just glad that you came and that we were here to see you.〉〉

〈〈Me too.〉〉 They hugged one more time. 〈〈Be well, my Darling. Live long and prosper.〉〉

〈〈Peace and long life.〉〉 Smiling through her tears, Deanna returned the ritual Vulcan salutation and choked back a laugh that was half sob as she saw the brows of T'Pel twitch in surprise.

As Deanna Troi-Rozhenko took her place beside her husband on the transporter pad, Lwaxana couldn't resist. 〈〈I always thought Worf was the better choice of the two.〉〉

Both Deannas responded. 〈〈Mother!〉〉

In the Alpha quadrant of Universe Alpha, Captain Picard greeted both new arrivals warmly, clasping their hands in his, one woman after the other. "Beverly, Guinan welcome back." His smile broadened. "And well done. You may have just saved the Federation."

"I wouldn't say it was us, Jean-Luc. But it was good to be there. We bring news, of course." Beverly said.

He nodded. "I heard about Will. It is most regrettable." Quiet grief showed in his eyes. "Is there any chance of recovery?"

"Honestly, Jean-Luc, I don't know. I've turned over the data to Starfleet Medical in hopes they'll find something, but that poison was very effective. Corvalis very nearly managed to wipe away all the evidence. Forever. Fortunately, the House Presba is prepared to take care of him for as long as it takes. He's in good hands."

"Speaking of House Presba, I understand the Prime of the House were instrumental in negotiations."

"You could say that." Guinan said. "Or you could say they married a Daughter of the House Martok and suddenly negotiation became possible."

Picard was startled, but it took only a few seconds to regain his aplomb. "I will send felicitations."

"They'll appreciate it. They're very... " Beverly didn't quite have the word. She looked over at Guinan and then shrugged, "...unusual people. But you'd like them."

"You would. Very much. I do." Affirmed Guinan. She decided that Jean-Luc had had all the shocks he could absorb for the moment with more still to come, and so she didn't mention that Lwaxana Troi was among their number.

Again the Captain was startled, but Picard couldn't help the smile. "High praise, indeed."

"Oh, speaking of..." Guinan reached into her robes and pulled out a long, thin clear bottle. The liquid within was a clear light blue. "You will appreciate this. This is Voyager's House Wine. Commander Steve Magnum produced a limited run of this vintage before we left. So here you are, from me. To you." There was a hint of amusement and something else warmer in her gaze.

Picard's brows rose, but he accepted the bottle graciously. One didn't reject a gift from an old friend. But he was curious about what he saw in her gaze. He would have to ask later, when they had time. If he remembered. "Thank you." He meant it. For so many things. He then added, turning back to business, "The Titan has yet to cross the border, but I understand that…," now his lips quirked into a somewhat sardonic expression, "…Warlord Janeway's terms were quite reasonable."

Guinan informed him, "Fleet Commodore Janeway could have asked for more and received it." She smiled more as she watched Picard's expressions take on a new cast.

He replied, "Fleet Commodore?" He glanced back at Beverly, who merely nodded. She too understood the implications. "They haven't had one of those in decades."

Guinan shrugged. "I suppose they think it's time to bring them back. Given the war. Commodores are very useful in times like these. Or so I've observed. Much less likely to lose valuable Admirals at the front this way."

"Indeed." Picard wasn't sure what to make of Guinan's amusement, but he could feel the change in the proverbial wind given the way she was looking at him. He shifted uncomfortably. "And Janeway..."

Now Picard's brow narrowed, and his gaze hardened. "My name. Perhaps we ought to talk about this more in my ready room."

"I think that would be good," said Beverly. "Ambassador Yar sends her regards."

"Ambassador Yar?" He looked blankly at the Doctor. Then his eyes widened. "Yar. Ambassador Tasha Yar?"

"One and the same."

"I would dearly love to hear this news."

Guinan grinned at his sudden enthusiasm. "On a different topic, would you be interested in an El-Aurian bartender for a few months?"

"Guinan, it is always an honor to have you on board. The bar is yours."

"Good. Because I recently received some drink recipes that will almost literally blow your socks off. The crew will love them."

==^==

The corridors of Voyager seemed to be both longer and darker when one was forced to move slowly and with caution. Though, logically, that perception could not be the literal fact, and Tuvok dismissed the thought out of hand.

Ezri Dax was behind him, and they both had their phasers out. They were one team of many who were scouring the ship for the elusive intruder.

The alert had sounded almost as soon as they transitioned back into the alpha-Universe. Voyager was able to spot the invader in flickering passes, but then it would disappear only to reappear elsewhere. There was urgency in their efforts. They knew what the intruder was.

It was a Changeling.

It also appeared to be moving with definite purpose, from deck to deck. It was heading toward the bridge.

They were determined not to let it get there.

At the moment, they believed they had it cornered in one of the science labs that had an obstructed Jefferies tube access point. It could not get out, unless it had some transporter technology, which it might.

They approached the door of the lab. Asil was on one side, while another officer was on the other. Asil nodded briefly at Tuvok and Ezri. Tuvok tapped his communicator. "Engage forcefields."

The forcefields sparkled whitely for a moment, and then became invisible. They, along with the foreign being were now trapped in that small section of the ship. Tuvok nodded to his daughter. "Open the door."

The door slid open. They waited a moment, and then when signaled, Asil slid into the room.

Communication also came from another source. Deanna had been tracking the being in her own way, and passed what she had gleaned on to Asil. 〈〈He is afraid. I don't think he means harm. But he fears being sent back.〉〉

It gave the Vulcan a possible working point. Still holding her phaser at the ready, she said, "I am Lieutenant Commander Asil Troi of the House Presba. I give you my word that it is not our intention to harm you, but you must reveal yourself now or we may be forced to engage you physically."

Tuvok and Ezri stepped into the room, also ready for any reaction. The other security guard remained outside in order to guard the door, waiting. Tuvok activated his tricorder. The tool ran its programs and scanners for a moment, and then he pointed with it. "There."

Now Ezri spoke. "I am Commander Ezri Dax of the House Presba. We know you are here, you have nowhere else to go. There are two Vulcans watching you. They can stand here, awake and alert, for hours. I suggest following Asil's advice."

No response was immediately forthcoming. Then, there was a slow movement and the alien transformed; changing from what appeared to be a random box, into a bipedal kind of being. He looked much like a Changeling she knew, only incredibly haggard. The Changling leaned on the station beside it and flickered in and out of cohesive solidity. The effect was to make the being resemble a candle left too close to heat.

Tuvok conveyed his findings, and his resulting conclusion. "The Changeling appears to be experiencing difficulty. I believe he is injured. We should take him sickbay and see to his care." He trusted in Deanna's assessment of the being's gender.

"And what kind of care would that be, Vulcan? I know your kind. You torture my kind for fun."

Tuvok raised his brow. "I assure you that my kind does no such thing."

"I think he means the Vulcans from his Universe." Ezri made the intuitive leap. "You took a chance, didn't you? Coming to our ship."

"I heard your introduction and it was so outrageous, I had to see for myself." He closed his eyes, obviously in pain. "You see, it couldn't be any worse. They were letting me rest, for their next experiment. I knocked out my guard, got to the transporter just before they raised shields. I honestly didn't think I would make it. But death would have been better."

"Commander Dax to Voyager."

"Voyager here."

"Please disengage the forcefields and transport Asil, Tuvok, myself and…"

"Odo." The Changeling supplied.

Ezri did not even blink. She'd known, somehow. It was his eyes. "Odo to sickbay."

"Engaging."

==^==

Ezri, Deanna, and Kathryn gathered in the ready room. Tuvok was guarding the Changeling in sickbay, while Asil was doing an evaluation of the performance of the crew during the search.

"We weren't able to get a whole lot out of him before he was forced to take his fluid form. But, as you know, our ability to gather data from all available streams while in a new universe has improved exponentially over the last several days. First reports about the universe we just exited indicate that the major governmental entity is the Romulan Oligarchy."

"Interesting."

"It does shed some light on some of the comments that he made about Asil and Tuvok," commented Ezri. "It was the declaration of House that caused Odo to decide to trust them. Honor in that universe is also considered a very big deal." Ezri settled more comfortably into her seat. "Though I note that Asil was very careful in what she promised the Changeling."

"How did he get aboard?" Kathryn stared at the OC, and First Officer, who in turn flicked glances at each other.

Ezri answered. "He didn't register as a life form, or recognizable threat under the new shield harmonic. That has been rectified."

"Do you mean to tell me, that in the middle of a war with the Dominion, and a known previous incursion by Changlings, we failed ensure they couldn't get aboard just by deciding they wanted aboard?"

"That is correct, Captain. Our new harmonics are an enhancement of the standard Starfleet ones." Ezri held her hand up to indicate she needed a minute. Her brows furrowed, her tongue creeping out between her lips and tongue for an instant, as she thought about something."

Kathryn waited.

Ezri folded her hands in her lap, twisting her fingers together, and then continued. "I suspect that Starfleet simply never thought that the Changelings would operate that way. They are not front line troops, they operate by infiltration not invasion. That's what the Breen and Jem'hadar are for, and the harmonics account for them plus the Vorta clones."

"That might be true of how Starfleet thinking, but it shouldn't be true of us. Send a message to Starfleet at the new available opportunity, and get Harry out of Ops and send him to Seven of Nine. If there is a species designation for it, and we are even remotely likely to encounter them, I want an augmenting harmonic. Clear?"

"Yes, Captain." Ezri answered but she looked over at Deanna and nodded, transmitting her order non-verbally.

"Now that we have the how he got aboard, why did he come aboard?"

Deanna said, "Recently the Oligarchy and the Changelings have come into conflict. Odo was serving aboard a space station in the Alpha quadrant when it all started. He was taken by Romulan Security Forces when the conflict escalated. They believed him to be a spy."

"Was he?"

Deanna answered with the absolute confidence of someone who could read another. "No."

Ezri shot her a look. "That's new."

Kathryn looked between them, confused. "What's new?"

Deanna resisted the impulse to actually kick Ezri under the table. She and Asil were still figuring out some of the changes that their bond and the Anomaly had caused in them as individuals and as a couple. "Until recently, like most Betazoids, I could only read those whose brain structure was humanoid in nature. I was unable to read Ferengi, for example, and, in theory, shouldn't be able to read Odo either."

Sensing Deanna's discomfort, Janeway moved the discussion back to where it had been before the digression. She leaned back in her seat and pressed her fingertips together. "I note that you did not say that the Romulans were engaging the Dominion."

"Good catch," said Ezri. "That's because they aren't. The Dominion, as we know it, does not exist in that particular Universe. This is purely a race war."

Now Kathryn grimaced. "Ugly."

"The terrible thing is that the Oligarchy is winning."

Kathryn looked at Ezri and understood the implications. She didn't want to ask. She really didn't. She knew, however, that she must. "How are they winning?"

"They seeded several Changelings with a virus and then sent them back to their homeworld. It's likely that the majority of the population no longer exists." Now the Commodore looked alarmed, so Ezri hastened to reassure Kathryn. "Odo is as clean as a whistle. They were trying different techniques on him. Molecular reconstruction being one of them."

"Molecular reconstruction?"

Deanna answered, "They were trying to force him into a state of permanent solidity. It would be somewhat like a combination of sleep deprivation, starvation, rolling waves of electric shock and forcing complete physical alteration on one of us, all without painkillers. It's amazing he is even alive."

Kathryn considered that answer. Then asked, "What is his current attitude toward…" She thought carefully about using the word, "…us solids."

"Well, I can't say that he is happy. But Odo has never been a bigot. It's not in his nature." Ezri couldn't imagine any version of the Constable she had known on Deep Space 9 being any different.

"Is he a threat to this ship?"

"No, Commodore, I don't believe that he is." Deanna confirmed.

Kathryn looked at her officers and said, "I do not think we will be visiting that universe again. We may want to win the war, but there are just some things the Federation and the Empire won't do."

"Agreed."

"Now, we've visited several universes other than this one. Did we learn anything unique?"

==^==

"Commander Voyager to Commodore Janeway."

On hearing Voyager use her rank, and speak through a communicator, Kathryn nearly choked on the mouthful of coffee she had just taken in. She swallowed carefully, and glanced over at Tal, who also looked confounded. "Commodore Janeway here, go ahead Commander."

"I take full responsibility for the Changeling being able to come aboard, and present myself for the appropriate discipline."

Kathryn watched Tal viciously bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep from evidencing her amusement, and winced in sympathy. "You're dismissed, Lt. Celes."

"Aye, Commodore."

Her assistant now safely rescued. Kathryn turned her attention back to the matter at hand. "Tell me, Commander, what were you doing when the Changeling transported aboard?"

"Monitoring weapons and defensive systems, actively engaging the enemy vessel, by assisting Tuvok with pin point weapon fire, assisting helm and navigation by--"

She interrupted Voyager. "Tell me, how many simultaneous tasks were you engaged in during the operation?"

Dead air reigned for a second before Voyager replied. "One hundred and forty seven active tasks, three hundred and twelve secondary monitoring tasks."

Kathryn lifted her cup to her lips and took a drink. "I was doing four and thinking about a handful more." She gentled her tone. "My ship, you are only..." About to say only Human, she smiled and choose a different expression, "...one person. If you could or should do everything, you wouldn't need me."

"I will always need you, you are my Captain."

"And I you." Kathryn grinned. "Dismissed, Commander."

"Aye, Commodore."

She leaned back in her chair, and shook her head. What was that quote? There are more things under Heaven and Earth, Horatio. Kathryn smiled and saluted the air with her cup. More things, indeed.

==^==

Commodore Janeway looked down at the small tub. It was lightly heated for comfort and contained the Changeling who was still in liquid form. She noted the monitor that was connected to the device. It indicated that Odo's vitals, the baseline of which had been taken from the Starfleet Medical records of his counterpart, were stabilizing.

Kate said, "They were literally tearing him apart molecule by molecule. Then reconstructing those molecules. But it was an unstable construction. So he would revert. They may have told him that they were going to keep him solid for the rest of his life. But they were just playing with him. The evidence is all here in the data." She showed Kathryn a PADD. "They were deliberately shocking him back and forth, just to see if it would kill him."

The Commodore's expression was grim. "Will he recover?"

"His nutrient store is completely depleted, so we'll be feeding him regularly, in either state. Pushing him back and forth like that sapped all the good stuff right out of him."

"I thought Changelings didn't eat."

"They're biological creatures. They may not eat the way we do, but even they have to have something to pull from when they repair themselves."

"And the tub?"

"Icheb designed it. It will help keep Odo comfortable and warm, while he recovers. It's got plenty of room for him to expand and contract as he needs. We plan on utilizing a kind of sun-lamp to help regulate his system. They need a moderate amount of light, but with the hurt he's been given, he needs a little more. When he's better, we can move it to some quarters, after he's cleared, along with the monitor."

Kathryn's expression turned pensive.

"What?"

"I really don't want to ask this."

Kate reached out, physically and mentally. "What don't you want to ask?"

"Were there any other Changelings on that ship?"

Kate was quiet and then said, "We have no way of knowing. It's likely the ship will have moved on by the time we recover enough to go back after them."

"Yet if there are survivors, even if they are our enemies here, they need to be rescued. And Voyager is faster than that ship is."

"We can't solve every problem in every universe, Commodore." This was a professional discussion and Kate kept it as such.

"No, but we can try to fix what we can, if it doesn't take to long. A rescue operation…would only be hours." She looked at her CMO, hoping that Kate would understand. It was a Captain thing, a Commodore thing. "If there are survivors, we need to find out and go get them now. While we still can."

"And if they go back to the great link and join their side?"

"It will still have been the right thing to do." Kathryn looked at the golden liquid in the tub and said, "Is there a way to ask him?"

"I don't even know if he is conscious, Commodore. They hurt him bad. And the truth is, I don't want to use any stimulant on him in this state. It would further rupture his…"

In the bucket, there was movement. It was slow and obviously agonizing. He managed to form an almost discernibly humanoid form: a face on a neck and shoulders. His eyes opened to look at them.

"Please," he said. His expression was wounded for more than himself. "Please go back."

"How many, Mr. Odo?"

"I don't know. But I know they were there. I could feel them scream. We were separated so we could not link."

"Damn it." Pulaski swore. She knew they were going back.

"You understand the link?"

Kate and Kathryn looked at each other and touched their fingertips together. "We do."

Odo grunted. "Perhaps you do."

"Thank you, Mr. Odo." Janeway paused, "We'll get them back for you. Rest now."

He wasn't quite ready to thank anyone for anything. If he lived maybe he might. But he was, by nature, polite. "Commodore Janeway, I hope you succeed."

"So do I."

Odo faded back into the tub and Kathryn looked at her mate. Then, without saying another word, she stalked out of sickbay.

==^==

"You just can't help it, can you? You have to pick up the strays," Ezri commented with some amazement. Though she wasn't arguing the logic of the decision. They needed to go back. Technically, she supposed, even she counted as one of Janeway's motley collection of strays, vagabonds and miscreants. It was a nice feeling.

"I don't rescue everyone."

"But it doesn't change that you've got that hero quality. No wonder…." Ezri stopped. It wasn't an event that she had talked to Kathryn about very much since the events with Kahless had predated her arrival. Not that the topic was forbidden per se, but there was too much at stake to make public mention of it casually. "Anyway, the TUE is ready to go and I've called a staff meeting to start in five minutes."

"Five minutes?"

"Yes."

There was quiet. "Ensign Anderson, you're excused for five minutes."

"Aye, Commodore."

They waited until the ensign was out of the room and then Kathryn stood and Ezri moved towards her. The hug that followed was natural, lengthy and solid. "Thank you for understanding."

"Of course, I do. Let's go kick some Romulan butt." Ezri gave Kathryn's shoulder one last squeeze.

"At least it's not Sela."

"Small graces. That would have been hard."

==^==

The staff meeting was relatively quick. Those that knew, understood. Those that didn't, soon did. No rationale was given, none was needed given the facts. Plans were made to begin immediately.

The Marine Special Task Force would prepare for the boarding and rescue, while the scouts and the Zakeeri planned assaults to act as a distraction. Voyager, the scouts and the Zakeeri would fire on the other vessel in an effort to drain its shields so that the Marines could board. Security and Operations would scan the other vessel and find the location of the other prisoners.

With the plan solidified, the crew of Voyager actively prepared for what was to come.

Less than thirty minutes later, a cloaked Voyager stealthily returned to the Romulan Universe.

The target ship had, as expected, moved on, but they found its trail relatively quickly. Commodore Janeway sat back in her seat. "Let's go get 'em, Tom."

Voyager sped on her way and chased the other vessel down like a hound on the hunt.

Forty minutes and several parsecs away, they caught up with the other ship.

"Are their shields on?"

"Deflectors only, Commodore."

Kathryn Janeway had a flash of inspiration. "Target their shield generators and weapons."

"Targeting."

"Contact Asil. Let her know we're ready to send the troops, on her mark. I want her on the bridge of that ship."

Tuvok's brow raised and then he nodded his head, understanding.

"Aye, Commodore."

"Harry, where are those prisoners?"

"I'm working on it." There was a long pause and the normal noises of the ship seemed slightly louder. "Commodore, I've found four Changelings in various conditions and in different locations. I've also established the location of their brig. One Cardassian is located there. Life-signs are weak for all of them."

Kathryn looked at her OC, and her First Officer. They both nodded. "Contact sickbay and alert them." She opened a channel to her Marine Commander. "Asil, Execute the boarding so that the bridge, engineering, the weapons cache, the brig and the four prisoner locations are covered. Transmitting co-ordinates to you now. I want at least four people at each location, more if we can manage it. Execute that order on my mark."

"Aye, Commodore." Asil acknowledged the order. If the instructions meant rearranging her own tactics, she gave no indication of it.

"Launch the scouts, and make sure they're all in stealth mode. They are only to fire on the other vessel if the shields go up."

"Aye, Commodore. Scouts away." Tuvok replied.

"Lieutenant Sayr, put the TUE on standby. It is not to be activated until all ships are back and cleared in the docking bay."

The Vulcan acknowledged the order.

Commodore Janeway stared out at the unsuspecting vessel on the view-screen, waiting.

Tuvok said, "The scouts have signaled that they are in place, and Lt. Commander Troi reports the boarding party is ready."

"Thank you, Commander Tuvok. Execute boarding."

It became silent on the bridge again, as they awaited the results. Deanna's gaze turned inward and far away. Tense moments later, Deanna said, "Asil reports they are engaging those on the bridge."

More moments passed. There was a communication. Asil reported. "The Romulan Vessel is secured. We have had four casualties, two severe, one fatality."

Commodore Janeway grimaced. "Thank you Asil. Have the wounded transported to sickbay. Disable warp, weapons, transporters and shields. Secure persons located in quarters, labs and other work areas. Gather the others into a storage bay and set the door to release via a timer. Make it an hour. No. Make it two hours. It'll give them time to stew and plot revenge. Let us know when that is accomplished."

If there was amusement in Asil's tone, only Deanna could tell. "Aye, Commodore."

Commodore Janeway contacted Commanders Sofuru and Veckma. "Sorry gentlemen. I'm afraid you'll have to wait for another party to attend. Come home."

"Kahless' Beard. Not one shot fired. Well, I guess it's not so bad. I'm sure another battle will find us."

Kathryn's lips quirked. "I dare say that is true, Veckma."

==^==

A half an hour later, Asil and her marines returned to Voyager. They decided not to leave a message and simply went on their way. Half a light year out, Voyager transitioned back to the alpha-Universe.

==^==

Sometime later, Kathryn was in the main sickbay. She noted that there were three full bio-beds and that the tub had been expanded. She took a moment to visit her officers, one of whom was conscious. Then she paused by the Cardassian's bed. He was not conscious. She felt Kate approach her and commented. "I know him."

"That would be because you've been to DS9. That would be Elim Garak, the Tailor." Kate supplied.

"Rumor has it he was a Cardassian spy in our universe. Perhaps he was in his too." Kathryn mentally went through what she knew of DS9 until she was able to match a security record to the name.

"That may be, but it's not why they beat him up."

"Why did they do it?"

"He tried to defend Odo." Kate unconsciously waved in the direction of the Changeling's bucket.

Kathryn closed her eyes in sympathy and said, "Go on."

"We've stabilized him and right now he's sedated. He should be awake in another eight hours if you want to talk to him."

"I will." She turned and looped her arm though Kate's. They walked to where the Changelings were resting. There were five separate monitors, indicating that there were five separate beings in the slowly shifting pool of golden liquid. But it was impossible for the mere eye to tell.

"Icheb again?"

"With the help of Voyager. We thought they might have a better chance at recuperating if they could support each other."

Kathryn patted Kate's hand. "Something we completely understand. Were any of them contaminated?"

"No. Each of them was being used in a different experiment. I can't tell you what those experiments were for, only show you the results. You won't like it."

"Send the results to me anyway." Kathryn steeled herself for the report to come.

"I will." Kate paused. "Also, I may have to ask Deanna a favor. All of these people need counseling, but none of the Changelings are in any shape to converse verbally for more than a minute. They're going to be that way for a few days. It would help…"

"It will have to be her decision. As long as it doesn't interfere with her other duties, I'm not opposed." In sign she said, "Love you, my wife."

Kate's eyes brightened. "Love you too."

==^==

Deanna, who had always been a generous woman with her time and skills, agreed to help out with the counseling. They did make one small adjustment. Orsas would also participate. As head of the department, she could present herself with authority and would be able to continue their care if Deanna needed to step away. This arrangement would provide a foundation for later, when the Changelings were able to assume a solid shape.

Commander Dax approved the arrangement, and she and Commander Troi went over the schedule, as well as the duty roster, since they were due to visit Universe Beta the next day. "This is good news. It'll be nice to go to another universe where their first thought isn't to fire at us."

"Well, if they're not Orion Syndicate that is." Deanna pointed out wryly.

Ezri looked up thoughtfully. "You know, I still wonder why all this started."

"Other than Miral running a simple trial? Nothing that I know about. If House Qua'lon hadn't brought them in, we'd have never pursued them."

"But why bring them in at all? Why not just pay the fines. Miral would have passed judgment, a notation would have gone to the Hall of Records and we would not have gotten involved." The Klingon justice system was very orderly, and Ezri knew the intricacies of it better than most.

"But then, you also wouldn't have been rescued from your side trip to Universe Beta, or found your mates."

Ezri snorted. "May I point out that I did not need to be rescued? I had the Orb. And for the record, I'm not complaining. I'm contemplating. There's something deeper going on there. It's like they wanted us to go after them." She also had a suspicion that if she hadn't crossed paths with Seven of Nine that day in that universe, they still would have met. It had that feel to it. Curzon had often admonished a young Ben Sisko to look between the notes to find the truth of something, and she couldn't help but feel that the same held true here.

"Maybe. Or perhaps Baron Tulek just over reacted and hired the wrong goons. Either way, our family is involved now."

"We most certainly are." Ezri grinned and changed the subject, wanting to let her subconscious niggle at it. "I hear it's Lwaxana's turn to cook tonight. Guaranteed chocolate something. See you at dinner?"

"I wouldn't miss it."

==^==

It was Lieutenant Carey who brought the next crisis to Commander Dax's attention. "She's been running through some of the reserves fairly quickly. Base minerals mostly. Some elements. And, recently, she was uh…Telling me…that the nebula in the last universe we visited sure looked tasty. I don't think she'd mention it to you, because, well…. It's a ship thing, I'm sure. But I think…"

Ezri was suddenly amused. "She's having cravings."

"Yes. And we should look and see if we can't meet some of them. We've got the Penetrator, we could probably cut a swath through some of the asteroid fields in one of the empty alt-Universes that we've been passing by and fill her reserves back up fairly easily."

"I'll talk with the Commodore about it." Ezri was actually looking forward to that discussion. She hadn't missed her mate's reactions to the thought of being pregnant.

"Thank you. I appreciate it." He rubbed his hand through his hair. "I just dread the notion of handing over a depleted Voyager to the Chief. She'd tear my hide off and use it as an eraser for the engineering board."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration."

"Not when it comes to her ship it isn't."

Ezri's lips twitched. "Thanks for the report, Carey." Then her tone changed slightly, "How's your family?"

"Adapting. They love that they can be with me on Voyager. The kids adore school, and who ever heard of that, I ask you?"

"Well, they have some uniquely skilled teachers."

Carey grunted positively to that. Then he slapped the PADD he was holding in his palm and said, "Well, I better get back to engineering. We've got some new kids from Starfleet who need to learn how to get dirty."

Ezri grinned. "Make 'em rise to our expectations."

"It's not our expectations they have to meet. It's the Chief's."

Ezri watched as he left and drew comfort from his manner. Joe Carey was genuinely convinced B'Elanna was coming back and, somehow, that just made her feel better too.

She tapped her communicator. "Ezri to Voyager. It's time to have a little talk."

==^==

Kathryn went to visit Garak near the appointed time. The lights were dimmer and sonic feedback lowered. She was approached by Dr. Zimmerman. "Hello, Kathryn."

"Hello, Dr. Zimmerman. How are you?" She touched his shoulder and smiled at her friend.

He smiled back. "I'm fine. Our patients on the other hand have seen better days."

"So I hear. Is Mr. Garak awake."

"He is, but not for long. He's just finished his meal."

"May I see him?"

"Of course, Commodore. If you'll follow me? Do you mind if I do the introductions. He's really quite a nice fellow."

"Oh, well, then how can I say no?"

Together they walked to the bio-bed. A viewing station had been brought to Garak's side and he was viewing the ship's channel. He looked up, his expression friendly, and then he blanched - making him appear even whiter than normal.

Oblivious, Dr. Zimmerman began his introductions. "Garak, I have someone I'd like you to meet. This is Commodore Kathryn Janeway of the House Presba."

Garak who had been unconsciously crawling back away on his bed, stopped. "Commodore, did you say?"

"Yes. Kathryn is the one who gave the order to go back and rescue you."

The Cardassian took a moment to straighten his tunic and gather himself together. He was aware of the woman's intense gaze, but also noted that she gave him the chance to adjust to the news. He looked at the Human before him. "Well. Commodore. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"And it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Garak. Are you comfortable?"

He started to reply and then obviously changed what he was about to say. "I am, Cap…Commodore. Thank you."

Kathryn would have noted the change in phrasing, but her people were still making that slip up, so she unconsciously discounted it. "Do you feel up to a few questions?"

He blinked, as if surprised. "Do I feel up to…?"

"Perhaps we should keep the dialog to only fifteen minutes, Commodore," Dr. Zimmerman recommended. "He is still recuperating after all."

"Of course."

Garak looked at the Doctor and then at the woman, as if pleasantly surprised. "I suppose I am feeling up to a few questions then."

"Thank you, Mr. Garak. Doctor, if you don't mind?"

"Oh. Right. Let me know if you need anything."

Janeway smiled warmly at her friend. "We will."

The Doctor excused himself and then Kathryn returned her attention to the Cardassian.

"Mr. Garak, have you been informed of where you are?"

Garak considered his reply. "I am on a Federation Starship called Voyager. This ship is currently in…" He looked at the display on the station as if he couldn't quite believe it, but was beginning to. "…Universe Alpha and tomorrow you will be in Universe Beta."

"I'm afraid I must inform you of something, which I hope you will not take amiss. You will not be going back to the Universe from which you came. At least not any time soon. This ship is currently on an assignment, which could take several months, maybe even years to complete. We simply don't have time to go back."

He blinked at her. "Are you saying that I am…"

"I am afraid you are stranded with us. Now you do have several options. You are welcome to stay on board, if you like. Or you can disembark and go wherever you would like within the alpha-Universe. I would have to clear a few things if you chose to reside in the beta-Universe, but I don't think my contacts would be opposed. You are, or rather your counterpart is, a known entity in our universe, but you have demonstrated by your courage that you are a man of values."

"I don't understand. Are you offering me asylum?"

"Is that what you need, Mr. Garak?"

He looked the wide tub on the other end of the sickbay. "…and my friend?"

"If they need it, it will be offered."

His demeanor suddenly changed. "What would you like to ask me, Cap…Commodore?"

"Why are the Romulans and the Changelings in your Universe at war?"

"Now that," he said, raising his finger for emphasis, "is a question I can answer. I don't know why they kept asking me questions I could not."

Kathryn did not consider the irony of how she learned what she said next. "It's because their purpose was not to get answers, but to break you."

He looked to the side, as if pained. "It was working."

"I know." She said it sympathetically and reached out. He flinched when she touched his shoulder, and then relaxed into the comforting grip. She let go and he looked up at her in wonder.

"You really are quite different, you know?"

Garak could see that she wasn't quite sure what he meant and he considered the situation. It wasn't just the age difference; this incarnation of the woman in front of him was, fundamentally, a different person. He decided to treat her as such and to trust her, but didn't elaborate on his comment. Instead he answered her original question. "The reason the Romulans and the Changelings are at war is that the Romulans discovered that the Changelings were spying on them."

Now Kathryn looked surprised. "But Romulans are always spying on everyone else. It's a game with them."

"Not my Romulans."

"Ah. Good point. Please continue, Mr. Garak."

"Apparently a few Changelings had taken the shape of some gardeners maintaining the building of one of the High Council members…"

==^==

Kathryn returned home, which was quiet for the night. She stopped a moment to look out the window and contemplate the planet they orbited. Thoughts of Ensign Grant were on her mind.

She had already composed the letter for his family and visited the body. It never really got any easier. But at least, this time, she did not have to do it alone.

She felt a bump at her feet and looked down. She smiled at the small creature. "Hello, Qul."

The firedog pup never barked, but it made a chirpy little noise of reception. Kathryn crouched down. She petted the soft red fur and enjoyed the connection with the latest addition to their household. Qul abandoned itself to puppy joy and rolled over and Kathryn obliged the unspoken, but definite request.

She patted its belly before finally standing upright again. "Well, Qul, tomorrow is a new day. I hope it brings better things. But," she looked out at the stars, "We did some good today."

"Yes, we did."

She turned and accepted the embrace of Ezri. They kissed warmly. "I thought you would be asleep by now."

"Ah, you forget, I have certain duties now. One is to see to it that the Commodore gets her," Ezri's gaze raked Kathryn up and down in one sultry, delicious motion, "…rest."

Kathryn chuckled. "Well, forefend I should keep you from your duty."

Ezri pulled back and took Kathryn's hand in her own. "Come to bed. We've been waiting."

==^==

Deanna crawled into their sumptuous bed. Asil opened her arms and the Betazoid slid into that ever-wonderful clasp. She was kissed by her mate, wonderfully and deeply.

Her hands trailed lightly over the Vulcan's skin and then stopped. "You did not go to sickbay."

"It was unnecessary. It is only a bruise, which will heal."

Deanna did not respond verbally. Instead she slid down out of the hug, and looked closely at her lover's dark skin. Other eyes might not have noticed, but Deanna could see. She leaned in and kissed the wound gently.

Logically, Asil was aware that it should have had no effect, but the Vulcan felt a flash of warmth and affection that spread through her. "Deanna." She hadn't intended the purr. It simply, naturally followed as she said her wife's name.

The Betazoid looked up with those beautiful deep eyes and Asil couldn't help herself. She leaned over, ignoring the twinge. They kissed and the heat that spread through them was so strong that it took her breath away.

Asil dragged Deanna up and then flipped her lightly over, until she was on her back. She pulled back from the kiss and looked down at her mate. Again words failed her.

She leaned in, purred deliberately into the Betazoid's ear. Deanna's fingertips pressed into Asil's shoulders sharply. The Vulcan only felt it as pleasurable. She dragged hot, hungry kisses and nips along Deanna's jaw and neck, while her hands searched hungrily along her mate's body and down. Deanna's touches and kisses were reflections of Asil's desire.

The urgency built in them quickly, as they communed deeply. Deanna was more than ready when Asil finally was stroking inside of her, filling her. Their thoughts mingled erotically, spiraled up and bound them tightly as their arousal combined into something edgy and urgent.

〈〈Mine. Beloved.〉〉

〈〈Yes.〉〉

It mattered not who said what. The words were simply true. And then suddenly, the truth expanded for them, tossing them powerfully into the depth and the height of it and each other.

Lady Seven stared down at the struggling plant-life in the airponics bay of gamma-Voyager. She didn't touch the green leaves, but she found that of of all the differences between the two Voyagers, this was the one that truly stood out for her. Where her Voyager had thriving gardens and The Park, this one had only the one small lab. And, now that she had something to compare it to, she realized the lab as a whole suffered from having been poorly designed; as had the mess hall, which had already been addressed.

She also knew from experience that there were various parts of the ship that could be better utilized. The crew of this Voyager, however, were too close to the situation to make an adequate analysis of their resources. Then there was the compounding factor of an established routine, which often carried one through a day, but often obscured possibilities.

Mentally, she added a notation to her list of things to do. Seven turned away from the shelf and continued her perambulation. It was a pale substitute for the Park, but for her purposes it was better than a holographic simulation. Seven had come to appreciate that it was the life within The Park that made it special. Thus, when she indulged in walks as a method of distraction, she made it a habit to visit airponics.

She was about to exit the area when Neelix and the Captain entered. Neelix smiled affably as he greeted her. Kathryn said, "Ah, Lady Seven, just the person I need to see. Neelix, you don't mind?"

"Of course not, Captain. We can continue our discussion later." Neelix smiled again.

Kathryn patted his shoulder as she thanked him, and then turned to the taller woman. "Seven, do you have a moment?"

"I was about to go to engineering." Seven's expression lightened. "But I was also going to take the long way around. You may accompany me, if you find it convenient."

Kathryn did a small double-take as it seemed suddenly that their roles had been reversed, and then nodded. "I think I do. Would your long way around happen to include a stop at the mess mall?"

"I am not opposed."

They exited the lab together, walking in tandem. Seven, who was as direct as usual said, "You mentioned a need to see me?"

"Well, I was hoping for a bit of clarification..."

==^==

Seven of Nine said, "Lt. Torres, this design is flawed." The ex-drone had finally figured out what had disturbed her about the schematics for the Trans-Universal Engine. Though she was confident in her analysis, she was not as confident in the reception her results would be given.

"If by flawed, you mean not efficient enough, that's not a problem." Lanna shot back, careful to keep any personal attack out of her reply, cognizant of the warning couched as advice B'Elanna had given her.

"The engine is inefficient, but that is not the problem." Seven of Nine consciously unclasped her hands from behind her back and brought them around to her front, and shifted her stance slightly.

"Alright then, your Highness, tell me what you've figured out that Lady Seven and B'Elanna haven't."

"The engine is designed to fail." Seven of Nine reached toward a console, but stopped her motion. "May I?"

"May you what?" Lanna was confused.

"May I access your console? Please."

"Unh, sure."

"Here." She brought up the relevant portions of the schematics and pointed out the part of the design she felt to be flawed.

Lanna studied the diagrams and read the notations the Borg had added. "Damn me to Gre'thor, you're right." She smiled. "Good catch."

Returning the smile with a small twitch of her own lips, Seven of Nine refrained from pointing out that it was frequently the case that she was correct. It had gone much better then anticipated, and Lt. Torres had smiled at her. Perhaps manners were not inefficient after all.

==^==

Once again the four of them were gathered in engineering, this time they were reviewing the schematics Seven of Nine had prepared.

"This doesn't make any sense. Why would you design an engine to break? What the hell were you guys thinking?" Lanna slammed the side of the console.

"I believe, given who designed the engine that the flaw was deliberate, and achieved its intended purpose admirably." Seven looked up as she finished speaking, amused to see identical looks of interest and confusion on the faces of the two Klingon engineers, as well as her counterpart.

"Explain." There was a small pause. "Please."

"Bang'wI, how would you proceed if you were required to produce something for those who held you captive, but with whom you disagreed?"

B'Elanna nodded as she realized what had happened. "Annika designed it, but reduced its efficiency and that's why the Orion engine was dead when we found it. It was a one shot deal."

"Precisely, she prevented the deaths of herself and those working with her, and thwarted the Orions in the process."

Lanna looked between the two Presbans, then asked what she thought was the obvious question. "So how come Seven of Nine figured out it was broken, but none of you did?"

"B'Elanna did not work on the actual engine design, she handled the installation and integration into Voyager's systems." Seven faltered slightly, then straightened her shoulders. "Annika Hansen is capable of things that I am not. I adapted her design to work with Voyager. I adapt, analyze, augment, and enhance. I do not create. I could not have, as she did, designed it as a mental exercise. Seven of Nine fully analyzed the design, I did not."

B'Elanna felt the faint glow of sadness from her mate despite what she knew was Seven's best effort to hide it. She looked over, intending to catch Seven's eye but was struck by the utter desolation she saw in Seven of Nine's eyes. Before B'Elanna could ask if she was okay, Seven of Nine was gone, fleeing engineering, without a word.

"What the hell?" Lanna made to move after her, but was stopped by a mesh wrapped hand. She looked at Lady Seven questioningly.

"I will go." Seven made to follow her friend out of engineering, but was, in turn stopped by B'Elanna.

"Be'nal?" B'Elanna studied Seven's eyes, noting their colour had paled, and that very little was coming through the link.

"It will be fine. I will be fine."

"And, Seven of Nine?" B'Elanna had grown very fond of her, and was worried.

"She has just learned what she has lost. She will adapt." There was another pause, as uncharacteristic as the last, and more poignant for it. "I have."

B'Elanna nodded and released Seven's arm, signing her love as she stepped back and watched her mate leave.

"What did she mean?" Lanna asked after the door had closed behind Lady Seven.

B'Elanna considered whether or not to answer, and decided that if Seven had meant the information to be secret, she would have spoken in Presban or with fingertalk. "Your Seven of Nine now has an idea now of what the Borg really took from her and what it means."

"But when she finishes becoming Human, she'll get that back right?"

As gently as she could, B'Elanna corrected her, trying to give her counterpart for free, a lesson she had learned at great cost. "She will never be Human, Lanna, any more than you, or I, will be. She is Seven of Nine."

Lanna turned away. Klingons did not cry. Even half-Human ones.

==^==

Kathryn had just rounded the junction of the corridor leading to main engineering when she saw Seven of Nine exit the area and open an access hatch to the Jeffries tubes.

It was clear that the woman was upset and was intent on hiding. Not long ago, she would have gone after her. Without thinking about the reasons not to, she walked over to the hatch and opened it.

"Kathryn?"

Startled by Lady Seven's greeting, Janeway stood, dropping the access hatch; barely remembering not to let it clang shut, and turned to face the speaker. They had spent enough time together since Seven's arrival from the alternate universe that Kathryn was able to see that the woman was also upset. She stepped back. "She's in there."

"Thank you." For an instant, Seven debated letting Kathryn go after her counterpart, but realized that the strain in their friendship would make it impossible for Kathryn to bridge the gap. "I will convey your concern."

She lifted the hatch and crawled inside. Between her hearing and visual acuity it did not take long to locate the correct Jeffries tube. Moving swiftly, Seven had found her quarry before she had even formulated a plan, and found herself at a loss for what to say, so she just sat down.

"I will never be Human. I cannot reclaim who I was." Seven of Nine had lost the inflections to her tone that had begun to warm her normal speech.

"No."

Seven of Nine digested the confirmation. "This has all been in vain."

"It has not. You are no longer a drone. You have choices and free will."

"What are you?"

Seven turned the question over in her mind, never having been asked so bluntly who and what she was. "I am Borg, I am a person, and I am loved. I do not need to be Human, it is enough that I am me."

"And Annika?"

"Annika is Human, but she is not without her own scars. I would not wish to be her for all of her Humanity."

Silence fell between them again, but the air had lost some of its tension, so Seven settled her frame against the wall of the tube, prepared to stay as long as necessary. She was, after all, also a friend.

==^==

Kathryn walked slowly around the docking bay. It had been a long day, but she wasn't quite ready to give herself over to sleep yet. She paused awhile to wander around the sleek shuttle that was berthed next to the Delta Flyer. The two vessels had some lines in common and she found that appealing.

She looked up at the sound of someone else's steps. "Ah. Lady Seven."

"Kathryn. You are still awake."

The Captain waved off the concern. "Too much coffee today. I'll be asleep in a couple of hours. I just thought a walk would help."

"I understand. I too take walks, though I have other means of achieving rest when desired."

"It's tough when things weigh on the mind."

"Yes."

"You know, I could go for some warm milk and cookies. I hear they made a fresh batch today. All this walking has given me a modest appetite. Can I entice you to join me?"

Seven studied Kathryn carefully, and weighed her words with equal gravity. "I am not her."

"I'm very aware of that." Kathryn's lips quirked. "And of your marital status."

"My marital status is irrelevant to our interactions, my identity is not."

Kathryn turned so that they were facing. "Even without your hair being blue, I know exactly who you are and who she is."

"In that case, I could be convinced." She held her arm out to Kathryn to show there were no hard feelings, and was relieved when it was taken in a light clasp.

Kathryn chuckled. "Good. Then I can continue winding down. You can tell me how your projects are going, and you can explain the irrelevancy of your marital status."

==^==

There was, thought Laren, a curious comfort in attending a morning staff meeting. It was familiar, and routine. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she were back on her Voyager. Almost. The ache in her soul made it impossible to forget.

From her seat in one corner, she watched and listened with interest as the meeting began. Her counterpart was sitting almost directly opposite where she was seated, and Laren could clearly read the annoyed expression as the First Officer stared at the empty chair allotted to the inexplicably absent Astrometrics Officer.

Holding her hand out of sight of gamma-Voyager's senior staff, she signed to her mates. "Where's Seven of Nine?"

B'Elanna shrugged, but Seven signed back, "I believed her to already be here when we left our quarters."

There was no further need for discussion as the doors to the conference room slid open and the missing senior officer entered, but Laren couldn't help raising her brows and looking at her mates for their reactions. Seven, as expected, was inscrutable, but she was amused to see that B'Elanna had turned to see how Lanna was going to react.

Seven of Nine had her hair down, and was barefoot. "I am sorry I am late."

Eyebrows went up around the table.

"Seven," The Captain put her hands on the back of her chair, not yet having taken a seat, "where are your shoes?"

"On the third shelf of my closet, in my quarters." Seven of Nine sat in her chair as she answered.

Laren watched, amused, as Janeway looked nonplussed, and Seven of Nine carefully tucked one leg up under her on the chair. The scene she had witnessed coming home last night suddenly made sense. Seven of Nine had been practicing sitting.

"Why aren't you wearing them?"

"I do not wish to."

Janeway knew she should let it go and get on with the meeting, but she was too damn curious, especially after yesterday. The last she had seen, the blonde had been upset; something had definitely changed. "Seven, shoes are a required part of a duty uniform. Civilian or not, you are on duty."

"Uniforms are often modified to respect cultural differences are they not? For example, Bajorans are allowed to wear their earrings despite Starfleet's regulations regarding personal adornment."

Laren noted that even Tuvok had taken an interest in the conversation, and her familiarity with her version of the Vulcan let her see just how intrigued he was. Ro Laren's head had snapped up and she was also looking at the blonde intently.

"That's true. But you aren't Bajoran, and we're talking about shoes." Janeway couldn't help it, she felt compelled to keep asking questions. Sooner or later it had to make sense.

"I am Borg." Seven of Nine stated simply, as if that was a sufficient explanation.

This time, Laren glanced at her own Borg mate to see if Seven had an idea of what was going on. Apparently not, since her face bore a look of respect and curiosity that was ably telegraphed by the raised ocular implant and a hint of a smile.

"I see." Janeway paused. "No, I don't."

"Captain, have you ever seen Borg wearing shoes?"

"No." She allowed, dreading even as she spoke where this was headed.

"While Borg technically do not wear clothing, I have determined that it would cause an undue disruption for me to fully adopt that mode of cultural expression. Therefore, I am availing myself of an appropriate one. I trust that you will not object."

There was a snort from the far side of the room, and Laren smiled as a force ten glare was directed in the culprit's direction. Unsurprisingly, it was Lanna Torres who hid her grin behind her hand, and tried to look somber.

"Ah. No. But you have to wear appropriate footwear on away missions." Janeway felt she had to regain some control of the situation.

"Understood. I will comply."

Janeway sat back in her chair, and grabbed her coffee cup. "Glad to hear it. Report, Mr. Neelix."

Laren met Seven of Nine's eyes, and raised her brows. She received a small smile in return from the amused Borg. She very much wished at that moment that Seven of Nine had taken them up on their offer to join the House. Finger talk would be incredibly handy right now.

Maybe they could teach her. She was Borg, after all.

==^==

Kathryn Janeway fought to keep from pinching the bridge of her nose, all too aware of what the gesture tended to signify, and, with at least three people in the room who had unparalleled insight into her mannerisms, she wasn't keen on having her mood read just yet. The staff meeting was winding down, and she listened with half an ear as the Doctor finished his report. Finally, it was over and she stood, visually signaling the end of the meeting even as she issued the vocal command. "Dismissed." She paused. "Lady Seven, if you have a moment?" Kathryn indicated that the woman should remain behind.

Seven watched everyone file out, and quickly signaled to her mates not to wait for her, and for them to reassure Seven of Nine, who looked apprehensive that her counterpart had to remain. She walked over to stand next to the Captain, and waited, deeming it prudent to allow Janeway to offer the initial explanation rather than err by presuming.

"Dinner?"

"Yes." Seven nodded. It was far from the first time they'd shared a meal since her arrival though the invitations were generally sent by comm.

"1900?"

"Acceptable."

Janeway grinned. "Mine?"

"Yes." Seven suppressed her smile. She knew what question would be asked next and she was intrigued to see if Janeway could find a one word means of asking her to do the cooking.

"YI-vut?" Kathryn growled, then smiled.

Seven raised her ocular implant, then nodded. She probably should have expected Kathryn to cheat, and in Klingon no less. Amused, she didn't point out that Kathryn had issued a command for cold food preparation rather than a request to be cooked for.

"Great. Now that we have the important stuff out of the way, care to enlighten me as to any other cultural allowances I'm going to be making?" The Captain pointed downward. "I can't help but notice you are wearing boots." Unlaced and somewhat scruffy - surely they weren't replicated that way - but footwear nonetheless.

"I am a guest on your ship. I have merely adapted. This is Seven of Nine's home, should she not be allowed to express her culture if there is no danger in doing so?"

Now Kathryn did pinch the bridge of her nose, but this time it was out of a need to hide the blatantly amused smirk threatening to steal her command mask permanently. "Your Kathryn lets you run around barefoot?"

"Yes. Within certain parameters. I wear these in engineering, and often while traversing public areas of the ship. In Astrometrics only the staff who wish to do so retain their footwear."

"And do they?" Kathryn asked dryly, already suspecting she knew the answer.

"Ensign Mortimer Harren prefers to remain shod."

Kathryn snorted. "I think you can take your victory in getting him out of his room, and away from disproving Schlezholt's Theory of Multiple Big Bangs."

"I believe you are correct, Kathryn." Seven gave the woman a small smile and accepted the condolences she could see in the Captain's eyes. Mortimer Harren was not an easy individual to work with in either universe it seemed.

"Now about those other Borg customs you've corrupted my Astrometrics officer with?"

"Assimilation day is in a month."

Kathryn felt her eyes widen, and was powerless to stop the shock from registering.

"A joke, Kathryn."

"I see. I have to adapt to Borg cultural expression and their sense of humour? I'm not sure I'm up to it."

"You are a resourceful individual, Kathryn. You will adapt."

"Resistance is futile?" She met the blonde's eyes, and quirked her own eyebrow.

"Merely unnecessary. Until tonight." Seven turned and left the room, enjoying the quiet chuckles that followed her out.

==^==

Out in the hallway, Seven found both of her mates as well as Seven of Nine and Lanna Torres waiting for her.

"You don't look any the worse for wear." Lanna noted.

"I am not." Seven turned to her mates. "Do not wait for me before consuming your evening meal. I will be dining with Kathryn."

B'Elanna grinned. "She's so mad, she's going to cook for you?"

"On the contrary, I will provide the meal. It seems safest."

Laren laughed. "I'm not sure what I would do in a universe where Kathryn can cook."

"Eat." Seven said.

"Wise ass." B'Elanna poked her mate.

"Indeed."

B'Elanna snickered and noticed that though she was quiet, Seven of Nine appeared to be greatly amused by the exchange. Before she could pull the blonde into the conversation, Captain Janeway emerged from the conference room and walked past them.

"Ladies." Her tone was neutral and she never looked directly at any of them.

Laren waited until Janeway had stepped into the turbo-lift and the doors had slid shut behind the Captain, then nudged Seven, teasing her mate with the memory of a shared adventure in dress shopping. "You might want to consider a slinky dress along with the food."

Seven, who knew that Janeway had only refused to look at them to keep from laughing, merely gave her mate an enigmatic smile and did not comment, though she was well aware from the raised brow of her counterpart that she would be called on to explain the reference later. She began to walk in the direction of the turbo-lift, knowing the others would follow.

"Wait." Lanna looked between them. "Let me get this straight. Seven is going on a date with the Captain, and you're going to let her?"

Seven held back her reply when B'Elanna quickly signaled. "Let me handle this, Be'nal."

"It's not a date. We're teasing her. But yes, I would. But let's not have this discussion here, c'mon, I'll buy you a beer."

Lanna grunted. "Going to take more than a beer for you to explain how you can tolerate her fucking around."

Laren immediately grabbed Seven of Nine's and Seven's hands and pulled them toward the turbo-lift. "Let's go find some lunch of our own." She knew from the tension in both women and the firing of the link, that Lanna was very, very lucky that she wasn't being ripped apart at the moment, and despite removing herself and the two Borg from the situation there was no guarantee that that wouldn't still happen. "Hasperat and some spring wine?"

The doors to the lift slid shut.

==^==

No sooner were they through the doors of their shared home, than Seven of Nine stopped allowing herself to be led. Out of respect for her friends she had followed Laren's lead, but now she required an explanation. "Explain."

Laren looked back at her and Seven of Nine could clearly tell that the Bajoran was trying to decide what to do.

"I'll start lunch."

"I do not require a nutritional supplement at this time." Her reply was automatic. She did not wish to be be distracted from having her question answered.

"None of us do, not really." Laren smiled. "I'm making a polite excuse to leave my darling mate to explain, without making it seem like I'm sticking her with the task, just why B'Elanna might murder your Chief Engineer."

"I see." And she did. The longer Seven of Nine spent with the castaways, the more she understood the behavior of those around her as well as her own behaviour. "There is no need to dissemble on my account, but I appreciate the effort."

Laren gave Seven a wry look before replying. "Actually, this time I was dissembling for Seven's benefit."

Seven interjected. "I believe, Chesei, you were fleeing for your own benefit."

"True." Laren responded then headed for the kitchen.

Seven of Nine watched her leave, noting the economy of motion that Bajoran employed in her movements no matter what the occasion, and when Laren had disappeared from view, she turned to her counterpart. Wordlessly, they communicated, and Seven of Nine marveled at how easily she read the other woman. If she could so easily read Lady Seven's request for moment to think, and the silent promise to proceed, why did so many other individuals on Voyager have difficulty with her expressions?

"I require clarification. What do you wish me to explain?" Seven finally spoke.

Seven of Nine considered the question. That it was being asked implied that there were several aspects of the verbal altercation and attendant scenario that were eligible for explanation. Which did she require be answered first? As she thought, they moved toward the living area, Seven giving her the same courtesy of time to reflect that she had been given. Neither of them sat, but neither felt the need to.

Finally, she thought she had an idea of what she really desired to know. She was only beginning to understand why she wanted to know. "Is your dinner with Captain Janeway to be a social event of a romantic nature?"

"It is not." Seven answered immediately, and then felt compelled to amend her statement. "At this time."

"Explain."

"I do not harbour romantic feelings for Kathryn, and at this time have no romantic interest in her. However, in theory, I am not adverse to a non-permanent social interaction that includes physical intimacy. It is not outside the boundary of my friendship with her."

"You are mated in a permanent union, are you not?"

"I am." They had discussed the forming of the Prime, and Seven thought that her counterpart had understood the ramifications of how Ezri had been drawn into the bond. Now she was not so sure. She was surprised to find that she felt a sense of discomfort at further broaching this topic, though she could not very well stop now that it had been started. Seven wondered if that was how her Kathryn had felt during some of their philosophical discussions: a sense that the conversation verged on the edge of repercussions she was unprepared to deal with.

From the edge of the door frame that led to the dining room, Laren could hear the discussion and had only barely held in an explosion of amused breath as Seven circuitously told the other Borg that she wouldn't object to a one-night stand with the Captain. Seeing that Seven was having some difficulty proceeding, she took pity on her mate and on Seven of Nine, and asked at least one question that she suspected was on the agenda. "You want to know why B'Elanna, and by extension, the rest of us, have no problem with Seven engaging in recreational physical intimacy outside of the confines of our marriage."

"No, what I wish to know is why Lady Seven would want to do this. Would it not be an inferior experience?"

If Seven were as surprised as she was, her mate didn't let on, and Laren watched with interest to see how the question would be fielded. Fidelity had been an issue for Seven early in their marriage when she had held herself back from Ezri, but the rest of them had recognized that they were asking something of her that Seven was not socially equipped to provide. To Seven, physical intimacy was merely one form of communication among many. And so, lovingly, knowing that nothing could diminish their emotional connections, they released her from her promise.

"You are attracted to this universe's B'Elanna Torres and wish to share physical and emotional intimacy with her, correct?" Seven asked.

"That is correct."

"You are also still attracted to your Kathryn Janeway, and would engage in the same activities if the option had or would present itself, correct?"

"Yes."

"Do your feelings for either woman prevent your attraction to the other?"

"They do not."

"Does what you feel for B'Elanna Torres diminish what you feel for Kathryn Janeway?"

"It does not."

Seven gentled her tone, aware that they had both lapsed into the more rigid vocal patterns and inflections of the Collective. "I have made love outside of my marriage because there were feelings and a desire for a connection that could not be expressed efficiently or adequately in another manner. I did not plan to do so, and as we have discussed would not have done so, without the consent of my mates, because I had promised fidelity. My mates," she paused and touched her fingertips to Laren's moving closer to where the Bajoran sat perched on the arm of a chair, "recognized that I was unaware of the implications of what I had promised, and released me from that promise. The experiences may be different, but that does not lessen the value of the gift being given, or received."

Seven of Nine listened and tried to ferret out the meaning of what was being said, but she did not completely understand.

Laren, so used to reading the micro expressions of her mate, easily discerned Seven of Nine's continuing confusion. "Seven owns herself. That means none of us have the right to dictate how she thinks, or feels, or even what she does with her body." She had another thought, triggered by something Seven had said about her lack of jealousy during the original conclave to set up the House. "When Kathryn praises Lanna, how does that make you feel?"

"I am pleased for her when the Captain recognizes her achievements."

"You don't wish she were praising you instead?"

"I do not."

Laren looked at her mate, and seeing the small nod, continued. "Have you ever wished for something someone else had?" She could have sworn Seven of Nine coloured briefly before the faint pink disappeared. "Did it make you angry that they had it, and you didn't, and make you want to take it away?"

"No." Seven of Nine straightened her shoulders and looked at her counterpart. "I wished that I could acquire it for myself, but I did not wish for them lose it or their happiness. Perfection would be diminished by doing so. One does not subtract from perfection. It must be added to."

Laren sat up, suddenly understanding her mate in a whole new way. She had been merely trying to explain to Seven of Nine that her mate lacked the capacity for jealousy, instead she gained a perspective that moved her from accepting Seven's needs to comprehending them on a gut level. "The Borg took you so young, that you were never socialized to be jealous, and in the Collective there was no concept of fair, and thus no concept of unfair. You might envy others, Seven of Nine, but to your enormous credit, you are not jealous of them."

"Envy and jealousy are not equitable conditions?"

"They are not." Seven confirmed. "And you have answered your own question in a manner, short of engaging in a neural link, superior to mine. There is however, something you need to consider. The circumstances that led to the formation of the Prime, and their acceptance of my polyamorous nature were unique. You need to be aware that Lanna Torres, should she continue to accept the changing character of your relationship, may not accept less than your complete physical and emotional fidelity."

Seven of Nine looked at them both. "It is not in my nature to deliberately harm her. I will adapt if our relationship progresses."

Laren smiled, not doubting the woman at all. She almost wished she'd be around to see how it all worked out, but at the pace the two of them were moving it would be a decade before anything happened. "I have no doubt. You are Borg."

"I am Borg." Seven of Nine smiled.

==^==

Epatai B'Elanna Troi took a deep calming breath and mentally recited one of the sonnets she'd memorized in Klingon. It was difficult to remain out of control when comparing Seven to a summer's day. "qaDelmeH bov tuj pem vIlo'choHQo'. SoH 'IH 'ej belmoH law', 'oH belmoH puS. jar vagh tIpuq DIHo'bogh Sang SuS ro'.'ej ratlhtaHmeH bov tuj leSpoH luvuS."

At the end of the first verse, she stopped, only wanting to dull her anger, not kill it outright. "Computer, two for site to site transport, my location to B'Elanna Torres' quarters." She considered incipient murder an emergency.

"Acknowledged."

B'Elanna was pleased, apparently she had enough rank, or at least her counterpart did, to have the computer obey without question. The alternative would have been embarrassing, and for an instant she found herself fervently missing her own ship.

"What the hell?" Lanna demanded as soon as they had completed transport.

"I lied. I'm not buying you a drink. Grab your bat'leth, your knife, your phaser, whatever."

"Why?"

"You're the one raised and educated as a Klingon. You figure it out." B'Elanna snorted in disgust. It astounded her that the woman in front of her had managed to do what she couldn't, but seemed to have the self-control of an adolescent in a room full of Deltans.

"You want to fight me to the death?"

"Not particularly. There are two people on board who would miss you. But I am going to beat some sense into you since talking to you doesn't seem to work. Whether you die or not is up to you." B'Elanna crossed the room and ripped the bat'leth off the wall and then shoved it at the other Klingon. "Here or the holodeck?" She could see that she was putting the fear of Kahless into her counterpart and was perversely pleased to see the other woman not back down. If nothing else, at least she wasn't a coward.

Lanna found herself holding the bat'leth and trying to figure out how she'd gotten herself into this mess. One second they had all been bantering in the hallway, the next she'd been shoved into a wall and transported back to her quarters to face an irate Klingon who was more than her physical match. "You can try." She swung.

She didn't even come close. Instead, she was whacked on the back by the flat of Troi's blade. "What kind of weak plumeless beq bird of an Epatai surrenders her name, Troi?" There was more to a Klingon fight than the physical aspect.

B'Elanna hid her smirk, but didn't reply. Thanks to Kathryn and Ezri, she knew lots of Klingon curses and insults, but to deliver them would mean she thought of Lanna Torres as her equal. Casually, she made a reverse sweep with her blade, then used her left foot to hook her opponent's feet out from under her. Laughing, she stepped back and waited for Torres to regain her footing, making it very plain she was toying with her.

They continued for some time, B'Elanna not caring that Lanna was beginning to feel the pain of accumulating bruises and at least one broken bone. Finally though, when a third gash in as many swings opened on Lanna's ribs, she decided to wind things down.

Lanna grunted and took an underhand swipe at what appeared to be an unguarded thigh. Her stroke was met and the blades locked, bringing them face to face, and she realized her counterpart wasn't even sweating. "If I apologize, will that be enough or do you need a limb?"

"If I wanted a limb, I'd already have it."

"Alright then, I'm sorry."

B'Elanna wasn't going to let it go that easily. "For what?" She knew if Lanna didn't know why she was apologizing, they'd be back in another confrontation in short order, and frankly she had better things to do.

"For implying that yours or your Mistress' behaviour is or was, in anyway, less than honourable." Lanna took a step back. "I still don't understand it though."

B'Elanna exhaled. "You don't need to, it doesn't concern you. But if you wanted to know, I'd have told you. We all would have."

"So it wasn't that I asked, it was how?"

"I'll tell you what. You explain to me how, exactly, you controlled your mouth long enough to graduate from Starfleet Academy, and I'll explain to you how I learned to deal with irrational jealousy."

"You're buying."

B'Elanna laughed. Her counterpart was bleeding and bruised, but still trying to dictate terms. It was a point of commonality she could work with. "Yeah. I'll buy."

==^==

Laren didn't need their bond to know that Seven was upset; her ears were sufficient. She and Seven of Nine were ensconced in the living area, she on the couch and the Borg in a chair. When music began pouring down a level and filling the house, Laren had looked up, but seeing that her companion was unfazed, she opted to give Seven some time before she went and checked on her mate.

"What composition is that?" Seven of Nine suddenly broke the silence.

Sighing, she realized her reprieve was up. She'd end up talking to one of them, no matter what. "Das Valkyrie. It's part of an opera by a Terran composer. Wagner I think." Laren stood up.

"She is disturbed."

It was not a question, and Laren noted the look of concern, but waited, not wanting to make an unwarranted assumption.

"Have I damaged her?"

Laren walked over and squeezed the Borg's shoulder and then dropped a kiss on the top of the blonde head. "No. It wasn't you. That piece of music reminds her of someone she misses."

Seven of Nine nodded, apparently satisfied, and Laren walked toward the lift.

It didn't take long to ascend, and she entered their bedroom. Seven was standing in the center of the room with her eyes closed, hands at her sides. "Are you okay?"

Seven opened her eyes and turned towards her. "I am fine."

"You miss Ezri." Laren knew that Seven missed them all, but that she was especially missing the presence of the Trill.

"Yes."

Laren moved to enfold her mate in a hug. "She'd sort Lanna out pretty fast. Prophets, you should have been in the ready room when she took down Chakotay, and that was before she joined us."

"I am unsure as to how to proceed."

"With KJ?"

Seven leaned back. "Yes."

"Because of Lanna?"

"Yes."

"Lanna has major issues, and I suspect a hefty case of postpartum something. Whatever it is that Klingons get that makes them extra bitchy, she's got it."

That teased a small smile out of Seven and Laren kissed her lightly.

"Perhaps B'Elanna should not be permitted to bear our offspring."

Now Laren returned the smile, imagining a very pregnant B'Elanna. "To be fair, Lanna is raising Miral on her own. That would wear anyone out. Remember when the Sochlings first came aboard?"

"Yes. It was difficult to maintain order."

Laren held her a little longer, enjoying the quiet communion, then when she sensed the tension slid out of her mate, she picked up the original discussion. "Don't worry about tonight. I love you, B'Elanna loves you, and even though she's not here Ezri definitely loves you. We all do, Jalat. Don't let Lanna make this into anything other than what it is."

"I will not."

She decided that Seven could use a little more grounding. "Ezri would have a field day making observations on this crew. She'd christen the ship the USS Repression. My counterpart is so tightly wound I'm surprised she hasn't taken a shuttle and left. The Captain can't decide if she can even talk to her crew, much less form enough of a relationship to preserve her sanity. There's some major bottling of feeling going there. In fact, watching her and Ro, I get the feeling that something happened between them on their version of New Earth, but I'm not sure how it played out once they were back on board. No one says Harry Kim's name. Tom Paris seems completely unaware that Miral is his child, Lanna seems just as content to ignore it. Tuvok wants to approach Seven of Nine romantically, but won't. The Delaneys don't speak to each other. Samantha Wildman is sharing physical intimacy with Neelix at night, but is barely civil to him during the day. Lt. Stadi hates being on helm, and Lyndsey Ballard wants out of engineering, but every time they're asked about rotations neither of them say anything."

Seven raised her ocular implant, impressed with the data Laren had gathered. "I understand now why Kathryn threatened to make you a counselor or a chaplain."

"One thing is certain, this ship could use a few of either." Laren kissed Seven again, lingering this time to enjoy the feel of the soft lips against hers, reluctantly pulling away as Seven began to respond with enthusiasm. "Go on, get ready, or you'll be late."

"I have one point seven hours before I am required to report to Kathryn's quarters."

"True. But you haven't cooked anything. And I haven't chosen a dress for you yet."

==^==

They had consumed the better part of two dozen bottles of beer, both of them more than capable of forcing the replicator to produce alcoholic versus sytheholic beverages, and were now thoroughly enjoying the fruits of their labour.

"You know what?" B'Elanna was slurring her words slightly.

Lanna lifted her head. She was lying on her back on the floor of the shuttle next to the bed. "What?"

"I just figured it out."

"Figured what out."

"It's not that my Be'nal might or might not want to fuck the Captain. It's that the Captain might want her."

Lanna wisely chose not to point out that B'Elanna's language had gotten significantly cruder with every bottle of beer, and that if she had said Seven wanted to fuck the Captain, B'Elanna would have cut off her head instantly. Complete double standard. "You're insane. Why should I care who the Captain sleeps with."

B'Elanna was feeling a surge of pride. Introspection and self-examination were not her strong suits, but she thought she had it nailed and wasn't about to let it go. She'd long since figured out that Torres and the Captain didn't have the same interaction that she and her Kathryn had had. This version of her had never been Maquis, had from day one been under Janeway's command, and there had been no serious conflict to spark desire. That didn't mean the jealousy wasn't there, only this time it had a different form. "You care because, if Janeway is intimate with my Seven, then that implies she wants the same thing from Seven of Nine."

Lanna forced herself not to react. "So what?"

Rolling over on the bed in order to look down at her counterpart, B'Elanna knew by the non-reaction that she'd scored a direct hit. "Somewhere along the line you quit being jealous of the attention the Astrometrics Officer got from the Captain, and started being jealous of the attention Kathryn got from Seven of Nine. I'm not sure you even noticed. I know I didn't when it happened to me." She deliberately separated out the ranks and roles from who they were as people. "Professional jealousy gave way to personal jealousy."

"Yeah, well. I already know the Captain wants Seven of Nine. The whole ship knows it." Lanna laughed, it was too painful to do anything else.

B'Elanna met her counterpart's eyes. "The real question is, do you?" she asked softly.

"I think so. Sometimes. Mostly." Lanna swallowed. There was no maybe, the last couple of weeks had changed that, she was all too aware that her physical reactions, always easily contained because they lacked any emotional connection beyond the desire to conquer Seven of Nine, had deepened. She just didn't know into what, or if she was even prepared to find out.

"It's a start."

Lanna smiled. "I guess it is."

"Now, how the hell did you keep from getting booted out of the Academy?"

==^==

At some point they had run out of amusing anecdotes, and fueled by alcohol they had turned their attention inward. For B'Elanna it was a less painful journey than she'd expected, other than a few lingering regrets for her behaviour, she was, for the first time in her life, genuinely happy. Their mates would soon find them, or they would find their mates, either way the world would right itself again, and she was actually glad for the lessons learned here.

The tension in the figure reclining next to her told a very different tale, and B'Elanna did the only thing she could think of, given how conditioned she'd become to expressing herself physically; she pulled Lanna into a hug and let her counterpart nestle in against her. If she had needed to cry, she would have done it then, in the safe presence of someone who knew intimately the challenges she'd faced, and so it didn't surprise her when Lanna buried her face deeper in the embrace and began to shake, her tears absorbed by cloth, the sounds muted by flesh.

With one hand she stroked her counterpart's hair, the other she used to trace small circles in the small of Lanna's back, being careful to only hit the surface muscles and not the deeper ridges. When the wracking motions had all but ceased, she tightened her arms around Lanna and hugged her gently. "Tell me."

For a brief moment, after the woman stiffened, B'Elanna didn't think Lanna would, but a minute or so later, her counterpart shifted slightly, and nodded.

"Harry had no business in that race."

B'Elanna heard the unspoken, 'it should have been me', but didn't interrupt. She'd walked through the fire of her own survivor's guilt, only she'd had Kathryn and Chakotay to help her deal with it. Lanna, it seemed had had no one. When a greater length of time had passed than she knew should have if Lanna intended to continue, B'Elanna decided to share her own private reservoir of guilt. "About four years in, we got word from Starfleet. The Maquis had been hunted down. Exterminated by the Cardassians. All I could think was that I should have been there, that somehow if we hadn't rammed the Val Jean into the Kazon ship we could have made a difference."

A few minutes later, Lanna spoke again, resuming her story. "He should have been safe on the Flyer, with Tom. It was such a fucking mess. Tom had this notion he wanted me, I tried to keep it afloat because I couldn't admit it had failed, and Harry...Harry stood back and pretended to fall in love every other week to keep anyone from seeing who he really loved. The real irony is, he wasn't even the Harry Kim we'd left DS9 with, but we all expected he would be the same regardless of what had happened to him, and so he tried."

B'Elanna placed another kiss on Lanna's head and tightened her grip a little. "Is Miral, Tom's?" She knew the answer, but wanted to keep the conversation progressing.

"Not officially." The words were blunt, but there was a hint of a smile in the tone.

"She's beautiful."

"She is."

"Then that's something, isn't it?"

"It is, isn't it."

"I know I would think so." B'Elanna raised her hand and tilted Lanna's chin so that she could make eye contact. "And I know that Harry would make the exact same choice today, even knowing what happened, if it meant Miral's being born. He bought her life with his, and I know he would have thought it a small price, Lt. Starfleet is like that."

"You call him Starfleet?"

"Oh yeah. He was so earnest when he came on board. The way I heard it, he nearly sprained his back the first time Janeway walked on the bridge."

Lanna laughed, unexpectedly. "He actually did here. Had to go to sickbay."

"Oh, Kahless." B'Elanna rolled over so that they were facing one another. "His first chance at command, he was so by the book and micro-managed so much that the crew mutinied, and it took Seven to help him sort it out."

"Not the Nightingale Incident?"

"The one and the same." B'Elanna confirmed, suspecting that if it had been named the Nightingale Incident, it had gone much worse for Harry here that back home. "What happened?"

"He didn't take Seven of Nine. Ro made him take Vorik."

B'Elanna nodded and let herself listen, unaccountably warmed by the fact that Harry and she had been close, even in these incarnations. Maybe a child with hers and Harry's genes wouldn't be so bad. But damn, Miral was cute with her green-blue eyes. She missed part of what had been said, the alcohol and lateness taking their toll, but she replied anyway, profoundly grateful that she had handled things appropriately. "Seriously?"

"Oh yeah. The whole hangar."

==^==

"So. How about you tell me what happened that had my Chief Engineer and your Epatai initiating site to site transports and stealing dermal regenerators from sickbay?" Kathryn leaned back into the couch, but turned her head to face her guest. Any other movement would have disturbed the wonderful meal she had consumed rather too much of.

Seven looked over, brows raised. B'Elanna should not have had to steal a dermal regenerator, they had one in their quarters and there was one in the shuttle. "I believe they were bonding. As Klingons." She stretched her legs out in front, and took a small sip of her wine.

"I see. That explains the medical equipment, and why they are holed up in your shuttle."

Privately, Seven suspected that the patterns for alcoholic beverages were the reason the two had retired to the shuttle, but she kept that to herself, much more interested in why Kathryn seemed so aware of events on her ship, but so unaware of the actual meanings of those events. While she pondered how to raise the topic, Kathryn continued.

"Do you like the wine?"

"I do." Seven confirmed.

"I thought it interfered with your cortical node."

Seven smiled lightly, and took another small sip of the clear, sweet wine. "I have since discovered that it is supposed to interfere with how I function. It is part of the experience."

They sipped their drinks in comfortable silence, and though she was enjoying the evening, she was aware that Kathryn was skillfully avoiding truly revealing her thoughts or feelings. Over the last few weeks, they had grown closer, but the wall that Kathryn kept between herself and everyone else was still there; maybe not as high or thick, but still there. Seven took another small sip and rolled it around her tongue, enjoying the way the flavour spread across her palate as the wine warmed in her mouth.

The direct approach would more than likely cause Kathryn to withdraw completely, and politely, but firmly refuse to participate in any more conversations on topics that Seven wished to discuss. Her own Kathryn was much like this one in that regard, and she stifled a small sigh. Then, fondly, she realized she wouldn't be having this problem with her mate; even without the revealing nature of the bond, the Prime had learned early to exploit the openness of afterglow until Kathryn no longer even attempted to hide from them. Seven still found that some of her most enjoyable conversations with her mate occurred in the sated warmth of each other.

She looked back over to find Kathryn studying her intently.

"You're so very different."

"Laren says we are like the same side of two different coins. I am not exactly cognizant of the reference, but I interpret her statement to mean that we are fundamentally alike, but two distinct individuals." Here perhaps was the opening she needed.

"I can see that. It's astonishing really." Kathryn's voice deepened. Her eyes became a little less open.

"Do not blame yourself, Kathryn. Not everything was your responsibility."

"Even after the alliance succeeded, even when we could have just walked away, I gave the order that stranded her here. Then I failed her."

"You did not."

Kathryn snorted. "Until you arrived, she had a cot and a box in a cargo bay."

"That was Ro Laren's failing, not yours. The First Officer assigns crew quarters."

Janeway laughed. "Once it was me trying to find the best spin for Seven of Nine's behaviour, now you're trying to excuse mine." She patted Seven's thigh, somewhat surprised when the Borg covered the hand with her free one, and squeezed it lightly, not releasing it. The warmth was nice and she decided not to pull away.

"What happened between you? What altered? She believes you no longer care for her."

Now she did pull away, sitting up and leaning forward, wrapping both hands around the barrel of her glass. "Did your..." she stopped not sure how to proceed, maybe the wounds were as deep for Seven and her Kathryn as they were here.

Seven suddenly understood what the question would be and where it would lead. "Icheb does not exist here. He was unable to provide a replacement node for Seven of Nine."

"She was dying."

"And you couldn't accept that, anymore than my Kathryn could. In her timeline, she was very angry with me for accepting the situation, and I had told her that I believed she was angry was because I was incomplete, and that my death would mean I had failed her."

"And now?"

"I understand her reaction was because she loved me, and she felt she had failed me."

"I loved her so much, I killed for her. I violated every principle I had, and took the life of someone as innocent as she was to save hers. I really have failed her."

"You believe she is unaware of this?" Once again, Seven was astonished by Kathryn's capacity for self-deception and lack of awareness, the only thing that surprised her more was that the Captain had yet to connect what happened to a weakness in her command or a perceived dereliction of duty to her ship.

Kathryn looked over sharply, eyes gone stormy gray. "She's not?"

Seven spoke as gently as she would to Barin or Emina. "She asked about my node the second day we spoke. Seven of Nine is aware of how her implants function, and, indeed, since the node failure, has made a concerted effort to understand how to perform her own routine maintenance, as well as to familiarize herself with the full range of possible impacts to her health. Kathryn, she has always known that the new node came from a living drone."

"Oh." Kathryn leaned back into the couch, suddenly feeling small and lost. Seven of Nine had known all along.

"Do you love her still?" Seven watched Kathryn with interest, wondering if the Captain would lie to her, or, tell the truth.

"It's different now." She considered how to explain. "I love her very much, and I could be in love with her again, very easily. Especially as I watch the amazing person she's becoming emerge. I wanted to laugh out loud today when she announced that being barefoot is a Borg cultural custom. But I can't, or rather won't."

"The ship." Seven's tone was flat.

Kathryn put her hand back onto Seven's and smiled wryly. "Actually, no. If I'm being honest, I'll admit that's one of the reasons I didn't act on my desires before, mixing business and pleasure is not a good idea, no matter what your Kathryn has achieved. It has not escaped my notice that my Chief Engineer and my Astrometrics officer have begun to alter the parameters of their relationship. I think they can be for each other, what I can never be for her."

"I have underestimated you. I apologize." Seven was all the more impressed because she recognized that Janeway was not hiding from what she felt, but putting what she believed to be Seven of Nine's needs ahead of her own, even if she was in error by making that decision on Seven Of Nine's behalf. "However, Seven of Nine does not need to be coddled by you, and is more than capable of saying no on her own."

The words hit and Kathryn laughed, stunned at both the insult and the compliment. "Well, the Borg bluntness is the same."

Seven smirked. "It is cultural."

Kathryn laughed again, low and throaty, and once more they were face to face. Seven read the ache behind Kathryn's eyes and knew that the gulf between what Kathryn needed and what Kathryn would allow herself had grown so vast, she was afraid it would never be bridged.

She hadn't intended what happened next, but she knew at the same time there was a certain inevitability to it, and she knew that her mates had known it long before she had. Moving slightly, she kissed Kathryn, felt the beginning response, and then the sudden jerk away from the touch.

It had been the last thing she'd expected to happen between them, but Kathryn felt like her body was suddenly on fire. "Seven?"

"Allow yourself this, with me."

"And your mates?" Kathryn thought she understood, but she needed to be sure.

"Would begrudge neither of us this."

Their lips met again; Kathryn's hungry, devouring a Human contact too long denied. Seven's more gentle, offering a solace, a healing and a haven; if not forever, then at least for tonight.

==^==

"Hansen Laren, may I be of assistance?"

"What?" Laren realized that she'd been staring. "Sorry, I was just thinking. And you really can call me Laren."

"Very well."

Laren cursed softly to herself, belatedly recognizing the question as an attempt to make small talk, or at least to start a conversation. Seven and her counterpart were so much alike that it startled her sometimes, when she hit a glaring point of difference. This woman had not made inroads into the ship's social community and still spoke with clipped tones designed to hide her discomfort. Laren said, "I was thinking that I've been privileged to meet a version of you in three Universes, and in every one, you are a remarkable, beautiful, intelligent woman. I was wondering if there exists a Universe where you were never assimilated or enslaved, Bajor was never occupied, and you and I spend our spare time sailing on the lake in Jalanda."

"What activity consumes our," there was a pause, "non-spare time."

Laren felt a blush rise, but she saw the humour in the Borg's eyes. "Many things," she purred.

Seven of Nine met Laren's eyes, and decided that possible repercussions to her next question were an acceptable risk. "Laren, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Always, Chesei." Laren was curious, Seven of Nine had never phrased a request to ask a question so formally, generally the Borg just asked.

"Would you..." Seven of Nine paused for a second and found the term she wanted in her memory of their earlier conversation. She started over. "Would a non-permanent social interaction that includes physical intimacy be outside of the bounds of our friendship?"

Laren swallowed her shock, and forced her voice to be steady, even though she knew the Borg was aware of the physiological manifestations of her reaction. "For me, yes. I'm sorry, Chesei. I don't...I mean it's not something I ever thought about."

"It is alright. I will utilize the holodeck." Seven of Nine began to stand.

It was the utter impassivity of the words that struck Laren like a physical blow. She could not bear for Seven of Nine to learn about something so fundamental and important from a hologram. Laren reached over and prevented the Borg from getting up. Carefully, she studied the younger woman's eyes. The slight apprehension and vulnerability in them suddenly brought to mind another night, almost a year ago, and another chance taken. She moved closer, and placed her fingertips over the blonde's lips in reassurance and question both. "Seven?"

"It is what I want. I wish to learn this from you. Tonight I want to be in your Universe."

They were sitting side by side, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world when she closed the distance between them. It was like falling into an unexpected bliss. The kiss was tentative, but grew in fervor and skill. Laren turned her body fully and wrapped both arms around Seven of Nine, drawing her even closer.

==^==

As they stepped into the Prime's rooms, a realization flashed through the younger woman. "Laren, I would like to…"

Their journey had been interspersed with languorous, steamy kisses and drawn out, stimulating touches. The Bajoran had let Seven of Nine set the pace, not wanting to rush her and willing completely to stop at any time. Thus, she held back and listened. They were, at the moment, separated by centimeters. The pause was long enough that she prompted gently, "You would like to what?"

The blonde's brow knit and her expression was hesitant. "I do not know what the proper protocols are for this. I have experimented. I now know what an orgasm feels like." And this was where Seven of Nine knew she was most likely to lose Laren. Others rarely understood her motivations. "I have conducted copious research. I understand the fundamentals…"

"Seven?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want me to let you lead?"

"Yes."

Laren twined her fingers through the other woman's and then walked with purpose toward the other room in their quarters. She went directly to the bed, without speaking, and then sat down on the edge of it. She tugged at Seven of Nine's hand, prompting the blonde to sit also. Then she took that hand and placed it on her breast. She took Seven's other hand and placed it on her other breast. "Tonight I am yours, Seven of Nine. Touch me where you want to touch me. Kiss me, where you want to kiss me. What have you fantasized about doing?"

The ex-drone gazed at Laren with wonder, then, impulsively, she leaned forward, kissing Laren strongly. Laren caught the kiss, returned the heated pressure of it and let herself be carried back until they were reclining. Even here, Seven of Nine was careful. She leaned slightly away so she wasn't completely on top of Laren, just enough to provide a wonderful compression, but the slide of skin on skin was enough to cause the Borg very pleasurable sensations. She began, then, to seriously explore the Bajoran, with hands and mouth and the length of her body. She moaned into the deepening kisses, drew her hands along Laren's skin, quickly assessing and evaluating each response and changing her progress and choices with each.

What amazed and gratified Seven of Nine were Laren's responses. They were genuine and sensual, deeply pleasurable to observe. She rose to meet the blonde's touch, gasped when the ridges of pleasure were stimulated. The sexual markers, heightened coloration, pheromones, a sexy silky wetness were there. The signals were verbal and non-verbal, sometimes direct and sometimes indirect. Yet somehow all of it combined into a delicious perfection, which then got better.

Seven pressed inward with her hand, two fingers plunged into warm depth. Laren rocked up to meet her, cried out in pleasure. Seven flushed with desire and success. She wanted this. She moved her hand, establishing the pace and Laren joined her in it, surrendering totally to Seven's need.

Seven wanted to taste. She wanted to know. She made slow, seductively torturous progress down. She stopped to suckle, suddenly understanding the appeal as Laren arched to her mouth here, to her mouth there. Each was a reflection of what was to come and that excited her more.

Finally she arrived at her destination. She drew her tongue through the tender cleft. It was surprisingly pleasurable, not quite as she expected, yet exactly as described. There was something sweeter to it and a part of her evaluated the chemicals, seeking out what it was that prompted the urge to taste more and more. Eventually she forgot to be consciously analytical and focused, losing herself in the task, except for that part of her that was never lost to any thing.

She knew. She knew when Laren was about to experience physical release. It was more than the basic signals of sight and sound. And then, like a flash-fire, Laren flexed around her, cried out.

Seven of Nine gasped too, embracing the sensations, continuing to stroke until Laren's orgasm soothed itself into completion. Then, when it was time, she withdrew her hand and moved to hold the Bajoran.

Laren gazed at Seven of Nine with satiated affection. She smiled softly as the ex-drone covered her breast with a still wet hand. "Was it good for you?" She had not thought she would ever step outside of her marriage, but at the same time, she knew, that for this, there would be absolution.

Seven of Nine's eyes glowed with satisfaction. "Yes."

"Do you need--" Gentle pressure from a mesh tipped index finger stopped her question, and Laren squeezed the blonde's shoulder, already knowing both the answer and the reason.

"No, I do not."

Laren pulled Seven of Nine snugly against her body. "Good night, Jalat."

==^==

The blinking lights were fascinating, and Kathryn studied their pattern avidly. With one tentative finger, she traced a path along one line of pulsing light, unsure if, now that the heat of the moment had passed, her touch wasn't too intimate a gesture. The dancing colours had intrigued her from the very beginning of Seven's arrival in her universe. She'd just never expected to be playing with them. And, she realized, that was exactly what was happening. As she moved her hands, the lights responded. It was an incredibly heady, not to mention, erotic experience. She suspected Seven was awake, not sure exactly how she knew, but there seemed to be a presence to her companion that indicated contemplation rather than slumber. She tested her hypothesis. "I love these. Do they glow and blink all the time?"

Seven shifted slightly in the bed, exposing a length of silver traced leg, and additional lights, to view. "They do not."

Kathryn raked her nails across the broad span of the abdominal implant and watched the results. "Thank you."

"I believe the correct response is that it was my pleasure."

"Was it?" Kathryn propped herself up on her elbow. "I mean, if I understand what you've told me about your mati--" a mesh tipped finger touched her lips, stilling her speech.

Seven was surprised that the beginnings of doubt and what would inevitably become self-recrimination on Kathryn's part had taken so long to begin to manifest. She had expected the older woman to pull away immediately on waking. "It was very pleasurable," she affirmed. "Kathryn, there is no shame in this. No guilt to be manufactured. You needed and wanted this. I wanted it. I found our encounter pleasurable, and I believe you also found the experience adequate." She let a small smile form, but didn't remove her finger until she had finished.

"More than adequate, Seven." It struck her then that she had been on the verge of sinking into introspective despair. "How did you know?" Kathryn laid her head back down on Seven's shoulder, wanting to hear the answer but not particularly wanting to be examined by those knowing blue eyes.

"It is your way, Kathryn." Seven decided to take advantage of the fact that the topic had come up calmly, and that they were still enjoying the lingering closeness of their lovemaking. "I believe that is why you and Ro Laren no longer share an intimate relationship."

Kathryn rolled away, separating their bodies, and stared out of the window into the passing star field, blood gone cold.

Seven sat up and swung her body around so that she could observe Kathryn's facial expressions. "Do not hide from me, Kathryn."

Kathryn heard the sharp bark and realized that the sound had come from her. "Hiding is futile?" she asked, acerbically.

"No. Hiding is pointless." Then to ease the tension, she continued. "It is resistance that is futile."

Her laugh was more genuine this time. "Your jokes are improving."

"You are attempting to change the subject."

"It's not one I want to discuss."

"You must. Separating yourself from your collective is inefficient. It diminishes you."

"And not separating myself immolates me."

Seven knew then, that there was a deep unspoken hurt, and that this Kathryn's issues were not quite the same as those that had driven her mate to hold herself apart, and alone. "Does it hurt you less to be alone?"

"No. But alone, at least my command remains intact."

"Tell me about Ro Laren." Seven brought the conversation back to where she wanted it, trusting that her mate's intuition was correct.

"You are relentless."

"I am concerned." While they were talking, she moved her body, bringing her leg into contact with Kathryn's side, and took the red-head's hand in her own, Human, one.

"I take it your Captain and your First Officer had a planet bound experience?"

"Yes, but Kathryn and Chakotay did not become intimate. He wished to alter the nature of their relationship. He built her a bathtub." Seven paused. "It was insufficient incentive."

Kathryn laughed, then sobered, eyes softening. "Laren and I built a tree house. Well, more like a tree fort. It took us almost two weeks to stop the roof from leaking." Kathryn's voice softened.

"You did not have a modular shelter?" Seven stretched back out as she spoke, lying on her stomach, still facing Kathryn.

"We did. We built the tree house for fun." Kathryn watched Seven's eyes light up, curiosity blazing from the blue orbs, and she smiled in return. "I'll show it to you sometime." And maybe she would, though she hadn't been in the program she'd made for quite sometime, not since Seven of Nine had come aboard, in fact. It had been a wonderful place to escape, despite the painful reminders of what had been the most idyllic period of her life.

Seven wanted to ask a number of questions, but restrained herself, all too aware that her questions often derailed a perfectly productive discussion. "How long were you on the planet?"

"Five months, eighteen days, six hours."

That time frame explained much, Seven realized. It had been much longer than Janeway and Chakotay had spent on New Earth. It also accounted for some of the differences in the events encountered by this universe's Voyager. They had traveled that same basic route for most of the journey, but in an altered period of time. "That is a significant period."

"It was." Kathryn turned her head away, and Seven leaned down to place a kiss on her shoulder. In spite of her impulse to withdraw, she turned her face back, drawn by the acceptance in the touch. "And then it was over."

Seven understood then. It had not ended badly. They had simply stopped. "You put the ship ahead of yourself."

"We both did. My command wasn't settled, the crew was still having trouble adjusting to being combined. Laren was struggling with some of the more vocal Maquis. What stability we had gained was undermined by our absence." Kathryn looked away again. "And it's what you and I will do tomorrow."

Seven resisted the urge to sigh. She could feel the first tendrils of anger creep into her rationality, and she suppressed those too. "Why?"

Kathryn realized that the version of Seven of Nine in her bed may be more comfortable with societal norms, may have embraced aspects of humanity fully and with a unique vim, but that did not mean she was any less direct, nor any more inclined to leave things she did not comprehend unchallenged. Kathryn suspected that this Seven just merely picked her battles with more discrimination, and that for whatever reason, she, Kathryn Janeway, had become the current target. As though they were on a velocity court, she simply handed it back, hoping that she would force an end to the discussion, preferably by having Seven leave. "Why what?"

Ignoring the question, Seven continued as though Kathryn hadn't spoken. If tonight were to have any lasting value for Kathryn, it could not be permitted to descend into an argument. "If you choose to pretend that tonight did not happen, I cannot prevent that. However, I will not engage in the same unproductive behaviour, to do otherwise would diminish me, and what we have shared." It was amazing to her that she was once again in the position of having to explain basic Human needs. "Simply because when the day begins we will not have a romantic affiliation does not mean that tonight is not an appropriate expression of our friendship. Do you intend to no longer be my friend?"

Kathryn turned her head sharply, Seven's eyes were slightly different shades of violet, her countenance calm, but the undercurrent of hurt was palpable. "Of course not."

"Good. Then accept this." Seven stretched and captured her lover's lips, slowly and patiently maintaining the gentle pressure until Kathryn opened to her. When the first soft moans trilled into her ears and mouth, she pulled back and moved her kisses along the firm jawline until she came level with a delicate ear. "Accept that you are loved. That you are worthy of being loved." To keep Kathryn from protesting, she moved back to kissing her lips, nibbling and taking the time to thoroughly explore the velvet depths. And again, when she judged the time to be right, she whispered. "Accept that you are a woman, as well as a Captain. Remember that you need to touch and be touched. Do not cut yourself off from what is possible in your future because of the Captain or because of the past." This time she moved her body over Kathryn's, pressing her flesh against her lover's slightly warmer skin, and began tracing small circuits with her fingers. "Promise me." She said the words hovering over Kathryn's mouth, and then kissed her again, more hungrily than before.

Kathryn couldn't help it, her body responded to the kisses and caresses even as something much deeper responded to the warm burr of Seven's voice in her ear. She should have been terrified, the words ripping through her soul should have shut her down. Instead, she clutched her hands around the strong back and poured herself into the contact, anchoring who she was and would be to this moment. From somewhere much deeper still, she felt Seven pull her release, and arched fully into the demanding strokes, not holding anything back as her entire being seemed to coalesce as her orgasm swept through them. She heard her own voice, uncertain if the words were vocalized or echoes from her soul. "I promise."

==^==

"Can I ask you a question?" Kathryn rested her chin on her hand, which, in turn, rested on the silver implant just below Seven's breasts. The morning alarm had gone off, but she saw no reason for haste. A soft exhalation of air that was the immediate response of her companion revealed that she had amused Seven in some manner. "Actually, now I have two questions."

"You may ask me anything, Kathryn."

She reached up and traced Seven's left biceps, high-up on the muscle, where the implant was artfully worked into a tattoo. "I'll admit I never expected to see a Borg with blue hair and a tattoo." Kathryn felt the tension thrum through Seven's body, and realized that she had touched on a topic that brought to mind her separation from her loved ones. "I'm sorry."

"It is alright. The tattoo represents my House rank, B'Elanna and Kathryn also have unique marks. In the beta-Universe, it was a matter of safety, and of honour."

"Because Humans are slaves?"

"Yes."

Kathryn moved her hand from skin to hair and took a moment to delight in the feel of it in her fingers. "And the blue?" She pressed the question because, just as Seven had forced her to talk about things she couldn't talk about to anyone else, Kathryn felt that it was important to their friendship that Seven be able to talk to her about her mates and how much she missed them.

"Sometimes one needs to introduce chaos into order to assist perfection." Seven smiled slightly, though her eyes showed a true measure of pain. "Ezri Dax is exceptionally skilled with the application of chaos."

Janeway laughed, low in her throat. "I take it your Ezri has blue hair."

"When we left she did. It is possible that it has returned to its natural state." Seven relaxed and gathered Kathryn in a little closer. "During her preparations for joining the House, Mezoti and Naomi convinced her to allow them to dye their hair. The girls have since returned to their natural colours, but Ezri and Emina have retained the blue. It suits them, but do not tell her I approve."

Kathryn laughed again, very much enjoying the camaraderie. "I think when she sees you, she'll know." She tilted her head so that Seven could see her face. "I'm very much looking forward to meeting them, but I think I'm especially going to enjoy meeting your Lady of Chaos and Lwaxana." She stopped, and then continued. "And T'Pel. Actually all of them. They sound like wonderful people, and they must be, since they love you so much."

The computer chimed again, more loudly than the first time, and Kathryn knew it was time to rejoin the real world. Mindful of their earlier discussion, she resolutely pushed aside any temptation to second guess events. "Come on, I'll wash your back, and you can cook me a wonderful breakfast."

Seven smiled, a bright, true upturn of her mouth that spread to her eyes. "I will comply."

"That's all it takes to get you to comply? Washing your back?" She crawled off the bed and stood, shaking her head in mock self-disgust.

"Yes. But do not tell Kathryn. It would not do for her to become complacent with respect to my compliance."

"My lips are sealed." And then they really were as Seven kissed her again. It was some time before breakfast was completed.

Afterward, Gretchen considered that it might have been inevitable.

Miral had been experiencing bouts of extra energy, which the Human suspected would normally have been funneled toward nesting and house preparation. However, as it was not something that was needed on a well kept ship, that energy had only a few places to go. For awhile, it was directed fully at Gretchen, which she enjoyed entirely, but as one could not live on lovemaking alone, some of it was re-directed at dealing with the trials that they took on. But, even then, Miral still had extra energy.

So she had ordered Nelav to find something fun. And Nelav, being who she was and what she was, found an event that any true Klingon could appreciate. It was a celebration of one of the Klingon Heroes and would prominently feature boasting, mayhem and drinking, though in Miral's case it would be prune juice instead of bloodwine.

Then, just before they were to about to go participate in this celebration they found out that B'Elanna, Seven and Laren had gone missing.

Miral had opted to attend anyway. Her justification was that, once the news was passed on, there was nothing they could do about it. The reality was, she wanted to punch someone in the face.

And she did just that. In fact, Miral managed to clobber several someones, all in the name of fun and games.

Now Gretchen had to find a place for the trophy.

She looked at the hefty latinum plated item and gazed around their quarters.

There was no help for it. She was just going to have to order special reinforced stasis shelves for their quarters. Gretchen had not the slightest doubt in her mind that more would follow this one, and in short order at that. Miral had already ordered Nelav to find another "fun," place to go to after they visited Presba. Then they would go to the B'hava'el System and visit Bajor.

It was nearing time for Voyager to return and they wanted to actually meet their new financial manager.

==^==

Chancellor Worf's mate looked at all four of the other women assembled in her greeting room without making an immediate comment. She stepped over to Deanna and they clasped each other warmly. Then she stepped back and looked at the other three women, more specifically at the Intendant.

K'Ehleyr arched her brow and finally said, "Well, Deanna, it seems you solved one of the Empire's problems." She then moved to where the Intendant stood. The Klingon was very aware of her greater height, but she noted that the Intendant was not intimidated, merely hesitant. She couldn't help the grin and just because she could, with complete impunity, she chucked Nerys' chin lightly. "Now we know for sure that a certain Bajoran will not be trying to take over the Empire anytime soon."

The Intendant made an annoyed noise. "I was never going to try that. I don't know why you people thought I had the intention to do so. I only had three ships. Three. How exactly would I have managed a coup, I ask you?"

K'Ehleyr smiled, her own expression amazingly impish. "Ah, but the company you kept, now…that had some interesting implications." She looked back at her friend. "But I see you have since picked better companions. Wise of you."

Nerys looked at Deanna, who nodded. "Well, it wasn't so much that I picked her, as she picked me."

K'Ehleyr let out a genuine burst of laughter. "Did she now?" She patted Nerys' shoulder lightly and moved on down to look at the other two women. "And you. Jadzia Dax of the House Martok. Sirella is going to have a fit that she didn't get to make the choice for you." She leaned forward. "But she'll come around. Deanna Troi of the House Presba, Daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed, Holder of the Sacred Chalice of Rixx, and Heir to the Holy Rings of Betazed, is a great coup. And Deanna Troi, The Truth Seeker is an even greater one for the House."

Deanna's shock outweighed her embarrassment at having her titles enumerated. "How did you know?"

"Deanna, my very good friend, I have people watching out for you. Of course, I know. It would be bad for the Empire if I didn't take care of its Truth Seeker of Truth Seekers, and worse still if I failed to care for my friend. Yes?"

The Betazoid couldn't argue with the logic of it.

K'Ehleyr then stood in front of the smaller of the two Trill women. "Ezri Tigan. Trill for Hire. Your business, I'm afraid, is to be to be monopolized by the Empire. I strongly suggest that you and Jadzia combine your forces. I understand that Jadzia already has a fledgling fleet of merchant ships." That she could have used the term assassin or mercenary, instead of Trill to address Ezri, was no longer relevant.

"I only have two ships…." Jadzia corrected.

"Yes, and what are you going to do with those two ships?"

Jadzia suddenly knew what the answer had to be. "Serve the Empire."

"Good choice. Because Deanna Troi is The Truth Seeker and her duties will require you to be somewhat…more circumspect…in the commissions you accept. Are we clear?"

Ezri wasn't sure how K'Ehleyr had managed to go from genial to frightening instantly, but it was an ability she respected, and she knew higher truth when she heard it. She and Jadzia answered at the same time. "Clear."

"Good. The Empire is proud that you are of its people."

Now K'Ehleyr turned to the Intendant. "And as for you, my dear, there is no conundrum. You will continue as the Intendant of Bajor, because your sector is thriving under your care. And my husband would not have it otherwise. We need a strong Bajor. Since Betazed is so distant from Bajor, Terok Nor will thus, officially, be Deanna's home away from home. She will be allowed to travel to anywhere she desires to go, because she is The Truth Seeker and her obligations come before yours, Intendant. Are we clear?"

"Yes." Nerys would have agreed to anything at this point.

Now the Klingon woman smiled. "Good. Now that's all settled, Mates of my friend, you may call me K'Ehleyr." She waved her hand towards a door which suddenly opened. "Let us go eat and get to know one another. I want to hear all about how you came together." Again her expression became impish and she grinned at Deanna. "And by all, I do mean, all."

Deanna laughed and a feeling of reassurance spread through the mated bond. It was going to be alright.

==^==

General Torres' ship arrived in Presban space nearly twelve hours early. She definitely wanted to be there when Voyager arrived.

Annika had recovered well from her intensive exercise of intellect, and was looking forward to seeing their relatives, so they could give them the news. She continued to cook and their diet had taken on a strange mix of Klingon-Human sensibilities. Somehow, though, it all worked.

Their need and urgency for each other continued unabated, and delightful interludes filled the intervals between war plotting and strategy sessions.

Oddly, her crew seemed the most relaxed they'd ever been. If Belle had not been so happy, she might have considered shaking them up via a journey through Hive Space, however, it would have been unnecessary excitement at this point.

They had whittled down the Orion Syndicate in part, but also knew that the remainder had simply found new and better places to hide. Belle had tasked her best minds, including Annika, with the search but so far there had been nothing new.

But that suited the General for the moment. It gave them time to see the results of her other plans come to fruition. The new marines appeared to be more than adequate. There was an unexpected ferocity to the troops, nearly Klingon in attitude, but more disciplined.

The General had no doubt that they would pull through for her personally, if not for the Empire. Commander Vah had trained the troops well and exactly as she had needed. The question was, could they take on the threats that were coming.

Only time would tell.

In the alpha-Universe, Commodore Janeway beamed down to the Estate briefly to talk with Ambassadors Kasala and Yar and to accept any messages that they might wish to be conveyed back to their Universe. A part of her was amused that she was playing messenger, but before Voyager got lost in the Delta quadrant it was a task often assigned to Starfleet vessels, including science and scout ships like hers.

Tasha smiled as she handed the packages over. "This is for General Torres and this is for Sela."

"I'll see to it that they get them."

"Thank you, Commodore."

They spoke a few more pleasantries afterward, with Kathryn inquiring about their state of comfort. Tasha was very complimentary, if slightly worried. "Kasala joined the Duras sisters on a hunt today."

"What are they going after?"

"A chaser." Tasha smiled at Kathryn's wince. "But barring that, they will accept any other species of your dangerous wildlife as worthy. B'Etor got her eyebrows singed off the last time. She loves Presba, just for that."

Now Kathryn had to laugh. "Well, I'm glad that they are finding some enjoyment here."

"Ah, I should mention that they have been working on convincing your sons to import targs."

"Vedor and Tuvon?"

Tasha nodded. She then grinned and placed her hand on one of Kathryn's forearms and leaned in as if sharing a secret. "They have been working on their arguments, trying to make them logical. It's been very entertaining."

Kathryn's lips twitched. Then she couldn't help it. She started to laugh. "Well, you know, if they manage it, more power to them. I'll have T'Pel talk with our sons. If the Duras sisters succeed, it will be their job to see that the stock is managed so they don't overrun the local fauna."

"Practical."

"I have a Klingon mate, and Klingon kin. Targs are inevitable additions to the plate, so to speak."

Tasha looked startled, then laughed.

==^==

Voyager's voice was stronger in her song. Her mate and mate's kin also sang with greater harmony. Voyager did not know this, but it was a new thing they did. Living ships had always communicated. They burbled, beeped and made sundry noises that counted as song, but now their noises were changing, becoming more ornate, intricate and melodious with every transition.

They surfed through the membranes of the universes with growing confidence. Over the many transitions the crew had gotten used to seeing the blue creatures, which they dubbed sprites, flow in and out of the transient space. Some had even come to look forward to it, enjoying the small, bright creatures' company during their travels.

The sprites who did not enter the vessel continued to coast and leap in Voyager's wake, dancing around the ship in rhythm to the new songs. They were now a regular part of the visuals of the inner-membrane and, oddly, the crew drew comfort from the antics of the beings. Benjamin Sisko continued to enjoy their company, finding their unique perspective on the passage of the ship in and out of the universal membranes, intellectually stimulating.

Those who were sensitive to such things, reported their awarenesses of the creatures. They were intelligent, observant, non-hostile and very interested in what was happening with Voyager and her crew. There was a sense of anticipation that was growing of late. Deanna said to the Commodore at their last discussion about the phenomenon, "Have you ever skipped rope?"

"It has been some time, but yes."

"Well, it's as if there are some of these beings waiting for the right moment, when they understand the rhythm, wanting to join in the game."

Kathryn had felt a brief thrill travel up her spine. She asked carefully, "Are they able?"

"They don't know. Therefore we cannot know either."

"Is there anyway to communicate back to them that we wish them to be cautious? It would…Tell them, if you are able, it would wound us if there were an accident."

"I will do my best, Commodore. But I don't know if it will stop them. They are very curious beings."

Kathryn smiled ruefully. She was quite aware of how curious the beings were. Certainly they had no concept of privacy. She and her mates had had audiences more than once during their time in the Nest.

True to her word, Deanna attempted communication. She closed her eyes and sent out the message. 〈〈Careful. Caution. We care for you. We wish your well-being.〉〉

Because her eyes were closed, she didn't see the sudden gathering of lights around her person.

Everyone else on the bridge did, however. Commodore Janeway, like everyone else was suddenly very attentive. She said, "Everyone as you were. She's fine." At least she hoped Deanna was. "She is merely engaging in an attempt at communication." Her expression turned rueful. "Apparently with great success."

The others around, settled back, but Commodore Janeway and Commander Tuvok continued to monitor the situation.

The lights dispersed almost as quickly as they gathered. All but one.

Deanna opened her eyes and turned her deep, dark eyes on Kathryn. "Commodore, this one conveys a request to attempt the transition. They are willing to take the risk."

"And if they should be hurt along the way."

"Voyager and its people would be blameless."

"We can't afford to become an inter-universal bus if it succeeds either."

"It is understood that this is an experiment."

The transition was closing in on the finish stages and Kathryn knew she had a decision to make. "Tell it, I need time to think about this. I don't want it to try to attempt this now. It knows we will be passing through again. It would be better if…it waited."

"It understands Commodore." They watched as the blue light floated away from their view, and Kathryn couldn't help but perceive its body language as being reminiscent of a disappointed teenager. She only hoped that it would take their warning seriously and not try to stow away.

"Thank you, Deanna."

"It was my pleasure."

==^==

Voyager had barely crossed the membrane into Universe Beta before they were hailed by the Tor'Stag. The hail hadn't surprised Kathryn in the least. What had surprised her was that the hail came from Annika, and not from one of the ship's officers or from Belle.

"Annika? Is everything okay?" Had Belle been injured?

Annika suddenly looked nervous and glanced to the side. Belle came into view, and Kathryn paradoxically found herself both relaxing and growing immeasurably more concerned.

"Go ahead, Be'nal." Belle put her hand on Annika's lower back and rubbed in slow circles.

Annika swallowed. "Variant 752."

Kathryn felt her breath catch.

"That is, I checked the trajectories and used the data from Leah and then cross-referenced with the--"

Belle held her finger up and stopped her mate. "Slowly, love. Breathe."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Kathryn had both hands wrapped around the railing in front of her chair. The rest of the bridge staff had fallen into complete silence. To her side, she could feel that Ezri had moved up to stand next to her, and was waiting with equal intensity.

"They are in universe variant 752, calculated from Universe Alpha." Annika looked down at the PADD in her hands, and then back up. "It's all here."

Kathryn sat down in her chair, stunned.

"I'm sorry."

The quiet despair cut through her shock and she looked up at the screen. "There's nothing to be sorry for Annika. This is amazing."

Annika looked on the verge of tears and Kathryn was confused.

Now Belle's voice cut back in. "It's okay, tell her."

"It's my fault the engine overheats. I didn't want the Syndicate to kill anymore of the scientists so I made sure that they needed all of us." She took a small black rectangular box from Belle and held it up. "This will fix part of the problem. I put the instructions for how to connect it to the TUE and the corrected design specs on the tablet."

"Annika." Kathryn made her voice as gentle as she could, and tried to convey all of the affection she had for the young woman with her tone. "Thank you for caring enough to find them, for caring enough to protect the people around you and for caring enough to find the solution. You are an amazing person and I love you. We love you." She pulled Ezri forward and motioned to Tuvok and Laren. Kathryn turned slightly so she was facing the portion of the screen where Belle was standing. "Bring her over, Belle."

"I will, Kathryn. Unfortunately, I won't be able to join her. I have other obligations."

"Understood." Kathryn smiled whimsically, "But we'll miss you."

The Klingon grinned back. That wasn't something that had often been said to her.

==^==

The quickest way to have a limited amount of time seem interminable is to have someplace that one wanted to be that was elsewhere from the place one was. Fortunately, there were family things to occupy the Prime and their children, while they waited for the engine to cool down and the equipment checks to begin. Miral showed off her new trophy and entertained her grandchildren, while Gretchen, Icheb and Annika exchanged recipes. Interestingly, each of them came out of it thinking they'd gotten the better of the deal.

Lwaxana asked Nelav to make contact with the Truth Seeker's Assistant and relay a message. She knew that attempting to make personal contact, even if Rynb currently acknowledged that she had a relationship with the Truth Seeker, would result only in stalls and obfuscation. He guarded his mistress' time with the ferocity of a loyal bulldog. Lwaxana did not begrudge him his joy in his duty, only his failure to understand that she was no threat.

The message to be given was a simple one. "Congratulations and felicity to your union, my daughter. Your sister sends her greetings. We look forward to seeing you again when we are able. With much love, Mother."

That exact wording gave the Betazoid a secret chuckle. That one word at the end was sure to give Rynb conniptions. The inclusion of sister would give him hives.

==^==

Because Belle had not actually boarded Voyager and because she had only spoken to Deanna and not to Deanna's mate, she remained oblivious to the knowledge that she had met Asil's counterpart. Therefore she did not convey the information as a matter of family discourse. Nor did she realize that Deanna Troi, Truth Seeker, had taken three mates, not two, so Belle did not know to tell Ezri Dax that her counterpart had reconciled her differences with the Intendant, and had married into the House.

What she did pass on, during a brief exchange about the state of the Universe, was that Commander Vah had successfully trained a new cohort of marines and had started on the next batch. The new marines had been integrated into his ship, for extended training. The next few sets of trainees would also be integrated, and then they would begin spreading those who were veterans throughout General Torres' growing fleet. By the time they were done, troop strength would be the highest it had been in more than two hundred years.

"I am growing more confident that we will be able to face what is coming our way with fortitude and a measure of success. Given what I have seen of the Borg, we will need all our tricks and our strength"

Commodore Janeway sympathized. "I admit one of my not so secret fears is that there's always someone better and stronger out there. We may be big fish in our pond, but…"

"… there's always the killer whale in the deep waters." They looked at each other with identical worried gazes. Belle finally continued, "We will keep you apprised."

"And we you. And if we find something to help out, we'll pass it on."

"Farewell, Warlord. Bring the Pride of Kahless on our House and bring my sister home."

==^==

The Transition back to the alpha-Universe contained the usual events, but none of the sprites tried to hitch a ride into it. Apparently the message had been effectively conveyed. They did, however, continue their observation and play. The sprites' attitude, on the whole, remained genial and it reassured the Commodore that her decision had been respected.

Once in the alpha-Universe, it was again matter of waiting. This time, however, there was a deep sense of anticipation. Annika's calculations had been shared with Dr. Brahms and Dr. Kahn and both had confirmed, with a great deal of awe, the potential accuracy of the variant number.

"Frankly," said Dr. Kahn over the view-screen, "I don't see how it could be any other variant. It's obvious once you break it down." Again her expression was one of true amazement. "Commodore, I must meet Annika the next time we are in Universe Beta. She is the only one who can answer my questions."

"I will see what I can do, but I can offer no guarantees." Kathryn wasn't sure that she wanted to unleash the intense Doctor on her reticent sister-in-law, but she suspected that if she did, the Universes would never be the same.

"Thank you, Commodore."

==^==

The tension within the Prime was almost unendurable. Within them, there was an urgency of purpose, a hope that quivered at the possibility of being dashed. Lwaxana and T'Pel played gently with Emina and Barin, while their other children attended classes or, in the case of Icheb, his duty shift. Kate was in sickbay, while the other adults of the Prime were on the bridge.

It was better this way, that they should be occupied and doing. Otherwise it would have led to hand wringing on the parts of those who were more emotional, and distancing on the parts of those who were more logical. This way, despite the physical separation, they maintained the actual closeness between them.

Dr. Zimmerman was already on alert to watch out for Kate. Deanna was given a similar charge. The Prime remembered what it was like when they had rejoined the first time and opted to be well prepared.

Commodore Janeway nodded to her First Officer, who gave the command. "Lieutenant Sayr, engage."

==^==

Past the first edge of the membrane itself, there was no hint of way lay before them. The sprites were there, and as joyful as ever. The cloaked Voyager swam through its currents with blithe familiarity, and the sprites ignored the walls to join with their friends on their short journey. A few of them seemed to hover around Deanna, expectantly, and Commodore Janeway realized that they were waiting for her answer. "Not yet," she had told Deanna.

The Betazoid had relayed the message. A sense of slumping disappointment, almost an aw-dang in the sprite's movement, pricked at Kathryn's sensibilities, but she feared for the small beings, since she did not know what they were actually composed of, and so held to her refusal.

Were they like the Bajoran Prophets, who were direly affected by chronotons? Were they like entities of nebulas she and her people had encountered before, reliant on the gases and fugue of the star to live? There was no way to know.

Yet, at the same time, these were the adventurers of their kind. And she knew what that was like, since she too was of that mold. Kathryn realized it was not a decision she could put off forever.

So she said, as the lights sighed by, not sure if it would translate, "Soon. Not now. Not next time. But soon."

The little beings stopped, brightened. And she hoped, desperately, that she had made the right choice. She had not lied when she had said it would wound her if the sprites were hurt.

==^==

They glided into open space in the Presban system of Universal Variant 752. In the Prime, the instant they crossed the membrane, there was a sliding home of presences lost, a resonance of unspeakable joy. This time, those who had been through it before did not collapse. Those who had not, were caught on the way down and settled into chairs, where they could weep freely.

In them there was light. And it was good.

==^==

Their joy, though full, was marred.

It was Harry Kim who brought the situation to their attention, mainly because of his shock. "My God. Oh, My God." He looked up from his console, in unbelieving anguish. But he couldn't deny the data that was being streamed. And there were messages from other departments whose job it was to gather data, who were also in states of agonized realization.

It had to do with the beacons, or that was what they determined later. Beacons that relayed information all the time, conveying a message of before and after for all the worlds in the two quadrants. They showed a demonstration that there once was life, and then the record of the attack and the devastation, with the final words of, "Thus to all who defy the Dominion."

If the Prime had not been fully aware that their mates were alive, the Commodore's reaction might have been completely different. "Tuvok, get security to sickbay right away. Don't let anyone in, besides first tier officers and the medical team. Have Dr. Dezhe treat any transition sickness in holodeck three for the time being. Someone's bound not be rational about this. Protect the Changelings."

"Aye, Commodore."

"Deanna, contact Orsas, make sure she has teams available. This is bad. Also, we don't know if there are other ships out there. Find out. You have the conn." She stepped closer to her daughter and finger spoke. "There is no way of knowing how long this will take. Do your best. If you absolutely need to, contact us. We will try."

"Aye, Commodore."

"Commander Dax." Kathryn deliberately appealed to Ezri's training, knowing how difficult this moment must be.

The Trill wiped her eyes, strove to pull herself together. The symbionts were gone. Every Trill, joined or not, adhered to the sacred duty: Protect the symbionts at all cost. Memories of the pools that nurtured those that carried the legacy of their joined races were overwhelming her ability to respond coherently, but finally, even through the grief, she was able to find her voice. "Yes, Commodore?"

Kathryn's voice gentled. There was no hiding the love in it. "Ezri, Tuvok, you're with me." She extended her hand to the Trill. "We'll contact our mates on the way. It is time."

Ezri looked at her sharply and then nodded, suddenly understanding. She grasped Kathryn's hand and stood up. "Aye, Commodore."

Now Kathryn had time to think. "Harry, coordinate the data gathering and get us a better picture of what is going on. Let's find out what we're facing. Make sure Deanna has all the information she needs."

"Will do."

"Thank you. Carry on."

With that, Kathryn purposefully exited the bridge with her mates.

==^==

In the turbo-lift Kathryn turned to her shell-shocked mate. Ezri's pain and desolation radiated as clearly along the bond as it did from her face and body. "We cannot."

Ezri jerked her head up. "Why not? You went for the Changelings." But even with the question, she knew why not. The risk was too great, the chance of success too uncertain. She slumped against Tuvok, who silently supported her.

"You know why not. I can't risk the whole ship."

She nodded. "I know." And then she let Kathryn hold her too.

==^==

It was something they had discussed, after things were more settled with Ezri and Kate, and the healing had really begun. They had known they would need some sort of method of finding their mates quickly, once they found the correct universe. Bouncing back and forth between universes, knowing that it would rip them asunder each time they were separated, was not something to be undertaken lightly.

They had established that there was a way that would allowed the minds of the telepaths of the Prime to cross the great distance. But it required more than just the power of the Mating Fire, even as fierce as it was. That was, so far, a mostly physical phenomenon, even with the building flavors of empathic skill. The Mating Fire was only a beginning and needed to be augmented before it fully could rise to occasion.

It was the Battle Flame that had allowed the mental crossing of distance the second time. The Battle Flame, however, had kept their contact short and to the conveyance of concepts rather than extensive directed speech. Expressions of love and need, acknowledgment of contact, that was possible with the Battle Flame. But they needed more. They needed the Blood Fever.

It was the pon farr that allowed the crossing the first time. That powerful blending of mind, will, power, and body had allowed for extended conversation, days of connection. They had been able to plan, review, analyze. They had communicated on a level that was almost unheard of anywhere else.

They needed the plak tow of the pon farr again or something equally intense, if not exactly the same. If there was another means, they did not know of it. They also did not have time to try find a different one.

In theory, they understood what they were trying to accomplish. The methodology, however, was not on firm territory. Deliberately inducing the Blood Fever had simply not been done before.

But they needed. And their mates needed.

The mates gathered in the Nest and formed a standing circle. Kathryn said, "Lwaxana, I think, by necessity, you must lead." There was agreement along their empathic link.

They lifted their hands, turned them towards each other, and their fingertips touched. That connection formed an unbroken link. Lwaxana said, 〈〈We begin with the first incantation.〉〉

==^==

When they began discussing the possibility of trying this method, Lwaxana had taken up researching the endeavor with the help of T'Pel. They investigated, together, ancient rites; not necessarily of Vulcan, because such things were simply not contained within Federation Starship Databases, but other rites with similar intent. Lwaxana had been entirely serious when she had said that Betazed still practiced rituals of a similar kind.

They discussed some of the options with Dr. Kate, who said they possibly could induce the plak tow artificially and trigger pon farr, "…as a last resort, but I hate the idea of chemically altering one of our mates in this attempt. It's not even that it's not safe. For Vulcans it could be deadly." Even so, sequestered safely in the Nest were a set of hyposprays that would possibly induce the pon farr. They hoped not to need them at all.

Lwaxana and T'Pel had also spoken with Inan, but she felt that they would not need her help. "You have the power in you," she said with absolute confidence. "Your desire for one another is already strong. You already send profound signals to one another. You do not need me." But she gave them, as a belated wedding gift, a PADD filled with Orion Pleasure techniques.

That had ultimately led to more research, which, in due course, had led to their chosen strategy. Kathryn, in a moment of almost juvenile humour, wondered what Surak of Vulcan would have thought of the uses to which the meditation chants were being put. She felt Ezri's guffaw of delight at the sacrilegious bent of her thoughts, felt Kate's tickled pleasure at her lack of mental decorum, and surprisingly caught an edge of fond tolerance from Tuvok.

By the time they hit the third incantation, the Prime were deeply connected and attuned.

Lwaxana, who had kept a part of herself separate, for the purpose of leading the chant and guiding them to this new state of awareness, began very deliberately to alter it. Word chains, concepts of logic and reason, began to change their focus. She began to weave in other systems and ideas. She filled their minds with an eroticism flavored with the primal memory of what it was like to be in the state of pon farr, that fierce, terrible and irresistible urge to mate or die trying.

She caressed them, invited them to caress her, invited them, like a siren calling, to join her in the madness of it. Lwaxana stroked, not just the Vulcan's minds, but the Human's, the Trill's. She pushed at what was hinted at in them, the constant holding back they engaged in, so they could function. On a level deeper than she was even aware, Lwaxana set the chaos loose, laughingly cut the strings that controlled their most primitive of impulses.

They should have realized it would be T'Pel.

Tuvok, after all, was the one who had gone through his pon farr. No one had thought to ask about when T'Pel's might be. They'd all assumed it was at the same time as Tuvok's.