Story Notes: An answer to the "Die, Seven, Die!" challenge, but a little more involved than simply, "Murder she wrote."

Acknowledgment: With many thanks to m.c. moose for beta-ing.

Time Frame: Let's revisit "Scorpion", shall we?

The Doctor's voice was low, but firm. "She's prepped for surgery now, Commander. Any further delay at this point--"

"I understand," Chakotay said, his tone matching the EMH's. His impassive face gave no hint of his inner turmoil. "Prognosis?"

"The captain is very weak..." The Doctor hesitated. "We'll know more after the surgery is completed." He motioned toward the biobed. "She insists she has to speak to you before I can begin. Please keep it brief. Time is of the essence."

On several counts, thought Chakotay as he approached the surgical bay. Despite his objections, Janeway had gone ahead with her plan to forge a temporary alliance with the Borg against Species 8472. His misgivings had multiplied when the Borg responded to her offer by preemptively beaming her over to the cube, then increased by several orders of magnitude when Species 8472 launched another attack. He'd been surprised that the cube had risked itself to save Voyager--surprised, and grateful. He wouldn't have thought the Borg would prove to be faithful allies. Of course, that didn't alleviate his suspicions, or his fears, now that he had a cargo bay full of drones. Who knew how far they could be trusted?

The captain lay perfectly still on the bed, her vivid hair the most lifelike thing about her. Her face and shoulders, the only part of her visible, were deathly pale. An ugly plasma burn scored the left side of her face. A half-remembered phrase popped into his brain: 'Dance with the devil and you'll get burned.' Janeway had indeed attempted to deal with the devil, and whether she--or the ship--would survive was anyone's guess.

Her eyes opened, locked on his face. Still the captain's eyes, their intensity magnified, not diminished by the obvious pain she was in. "Commander." It came out as a frail whisper.

"Yes, Captain."

"The ship--"

"I'll keep her safe," he promised, finding her hand and pressing it gently between his own. He had no idea if he'd be able to fulfill that promise, but he knew he would do everything in his power, move heaven and earth if necessary, in the attempt. As did she.

She nodded, then winced. "One more thing…" She closed her eyes as if exhausted.

He waited, while the EMH hovered impatiently in the background. Finally, she opened her eyes once more.

"The alliance with the Borg. It won't be…easy. They'll threaten you, they'll try to change the conditions, push you and test you." He would have spoken then, but saw she wasn't finished. "You must keep the alliance intact, Chakotay. "

Surprised, he said, "But if the Borg are so unreliable--"

"You must. It's our only chance. Promise me you'll make it work." She tried to squeeze his hand, but lacked the necessary strength. Her gaze was unwavering. He looked into their blue-gray depths and saw fear lurking behind the determination. For herself? The ship? Or for him?

"I promise, Captain." He released her hand, and backed away from the bed. The Doctor immediately moved forward and began barking orders to Kes. Chakotay lingered for a few more moments, then returned to the bridge where other, more immediate, crises awaited him.

The cargo bay had been modified into an eerie facsimile of a Borg cube. It appeared that they had managed to transport, intact, an entire section of their ship prior to its destruction. As well as a dozen or so survivors.

Chakotay faced the drone designated as the spokesperson for the Collective. Despite the weapon he held, despite the armed security officers behind him, the Borg acted as though they held the upper hand. And perhaps they did. Voyager's first officer, now her acting captain, had no illusions.

"Where is Janeway?" the drone demanded. Unlike other Borg he'd seen, it was obvious at first glance that this one was--or had been--female. Its designation was Seven of Nine.

"In our Sickbay, recovering," said Chakotay. "I'm in command now."

The drone processed that information. "Circumstances have changed."

He nodded, cautiously. Where was this leading?

"The loss of our vessel requires that we modify our agreement."

When dealing with a dangerous and unpredictable adversary, it was best to take the initiative, be proactive rather than reactive. "I've been giving that some thought," Chakotay said. "I'm willing to let you stay on board." Show them who's in charge. "We'll continue working with you on the weapon against Species 8472. But once we're safely out of Borg territory, we'll give you the nanoprobes, shake hands and part company."

"Insufficient," said Seven of Nine. It rapidly accessed a data node. "Our latest tactical projections indicate that the war will be lost by then. The Borg vessel closest to our current position is located here," indicating a set of coordinates. "You will change course and take us to it."

Chakotay leaned over to take a look, and blanched. "That's over 40 light years away--a five day journey at maximum warp, and in the wrong direction to boot. The answer is no."

"There is no alternative. You will comply."

Chakotay held his ground. "I'll abide by the original agreement, but going back is too dangerous."

The Borg slowly turned toward him, a cold red beam from its ocular implant sweeping over him. "Denying our request is also dangerous."

"Commander?" Kes's soft query made him jump. "Are you all right?"

He took a deep breath. "I'm fine. Sorry, I didn't notice you were here."

"I didn't mean to startle you." Kes motioned toward the bed. "You don't have to stand here, you know."

"I don't want to disturb her…"

"You won't. She still hasn't regained consciousness." Chakotay noted absently that Kes wasn't looking very well herself. His concerns were forgotten, however, when Kes added, "If you like, it may still do some good for you to sit by her for a while. For both of you." She glided out of the room without waiting for an answer.

Chakotay cautiously approached the bed. Janeway didn't look much different than she had the last time he'd seen her, except that her visible injuries had been healed. She was still and white against the Sickbay sheets, a cortical monitor attached to her forehead. But her chest rose and fell with regularity, a sight he found comforting.

He pulled up a chair and sat down, watching her breathe. After a few moments he reached over and took her hand. "I'm sorry, Kathryn, but I can't do it your way. I can't make it work. Spirits know, I've tried. But their demands are unreasonable." A memory flashed into his mind--Riley and her benign, 'new' Collective, and how they had still manipulated him to their own ends. Their excuse was that it was for the greater good. Doubtless, the drones on board Voyager also saw defeating Species 8472 as more important than the continued existence of a small band of humans. "The Borg represent a danger to the entire ship. I can't risk it."

There was no answer, of course.

"I know you wanted me to try. And I know that if circumstances were different, if it was you, you'd make it work somehow. But I'm not you, Kathryn." A sob escaped him. "I'm not you. Though if you should--if something were to happen to you, you wouldn't have to worry about the crew." His grip on her hand tightened convulsively. If she'd been conscious, she would have winced in pain, but her expression remained unchanged. "You've got to come back to us, Kathryn. We need you. I need you. As my captain, and as my…friend."

He rose and left the room, not looking back.

Chakotay entered the briefing room at precisely 0800 hours. The senior staff was already assembled. He remained standing, purposely avoiding sitting in the empty chair at the head of the table. Without any further preamble, he announced, "Our alliance with the Borg is over, as of now."

The terse announcement was greeted by stunned silence. Tuvok was the first to recover. "Commander, the Captain expressed--"

"I'm aware of what the Captain wanted. But circumstances have changed. The Borg want us to turn around, go back over 40 light years to hook up with another one of their ships. It's too risky--we want to get out of the war zone as quickly as possible, not prolong our stay." Although he didn't say it out loud, the threat of destruction by Species 8472--not to mention Borg betrayal--hung in the air.

"They've held up their end of the bargain so far," Paris said. "The Borg protected us during the last attack, at the cost of their own ship."

"They want our knowledge of the weapon to use against their enemy," Chakotay answered bluntly. "And now that they've got a presence on board Voyager, how long do you think it'll be until they decide it would be more efficient to simply assimilate us to get it?"

"We've got numbers on our side," Kim put in. He was still shaken and pale after his recent ordeal. The Doctor had been reluctant to release him back to active duty so soon, but Harry had insisted, and Chakotay had agreed. He could understand Kim's feelings of helplessness, of the need to do something useful.

"We do now. But all it takes is encountering another cube for the odds to shift in their favor." Chakotay sat down in his old seat, and glanced around the room meaningfully. "And even one drone aboard represents an untenable risk."

"They did attempt to assimilate the captain and myself, when we first arrived on their vessel," Tuvok said quietly.

Kim visibly flinched. "How'd you stop them?"

"The captain was able to persuade them that we would work better with the interpersonal interfaces that we were accustomed to."

Chakotay hadn't been aware of this incident, but somehow it didn't surprise him. The Borg had backed down once, but they'd still been in control of the situation--perhaps felt they could afford a conciliatory gesture. What would they do now?

"But if the drones remain confined to the cargo bay, with security in place--" began Paris.

"They've already accessed several of our key systems," Torres stated flatly. "I've got Borg technology cropping up all over Engineering."

Chakotay felt his alarm levels rise another notch. "So you're saying they're poised to take over the ship? Damn it, Tuvok, how could this happen?"

The Vulcan security chief looked as grim as Chakotay had ever seen him. "They have obviously found a way to circumvent our security lockouts."

Chakotay rose abruptly. "I've heard enough. Harry, I want you to scan for a suitable planet. As soon as one is located, we'll head over there and drop off our guests. I won't kill them, unless it becomes a choice between their survival and our own."

He nodded a curt dismissal, and then sat down wearily. As the officers began filing out, he called out, "Tuvok, a moment, please." He waited until they were alone.

"Yes, Commander?"

"I owe you an apology, Tuvok," Chakotay said. He rubbed his aching eyes. "I'm sorry--I didn't mean to come down on you so hard, or to disparage your security measures."

"There is no need to apologize, Commander. I was unaware that the Borg had managed to override our controls. You were correct--the situation is unacceptable." The Vulcan raised a brow. "Your decision to end the alliance is in our best interests. But the implementation may not be as simple as you have described."

Chakotay exhaled slowly. "No, I don't think the Borg will go gently into the night. And they very well may have other surprises up their sleeves. Which is why I want to discuss some countermeasures with you now--determine our options, if the Borg decide to take matters into their own hands."

"Chakotay here."

"The Borg would like to speak with you, Commander. Will you come down to the cargo bay, or shall we bring their spokesman to you?"

"Bring Seven of Nine here," he answered. To himself, he added, "No time like the present to let them know the change in our relationship."

The drone listened in passive silence while Chakotay described his plan for dropping the Borg off on a planet. But appearances were deceiving.

"Unacceptable. You will comply with our earlier directive and rendezvous with the cube in sector-- "

Chakotay cut off its words abruptly. "This topic is not open for discussion. I'm not turning this ship around."

The cold mechanical gaze swept over him once again. "Failure to comply will leave us no choice but to assimilate this vessel."

Chakotay refused to back down. "If a single drone so much as steps one millimeter outside of that cargo bay, I'll decompress the entire deck. You won't pose much of a threat floating in space."

"When your captain first approached us, we suspected that an agreement with humans would prove impossible to maintain. You are erratic and disorganized, as reflected by your actions." There was no change in inflection of the drone's voice. Which made its words all the more chilling. "It will be your undoing."

He deliberately turned away. "Escort our guest back to the cargo bay.".

Chakotay grabbed a quick bite in the Mess Hall, and then stopped off in Sickbay. The EMH looked up.

"Commander, I was just about to hail you."

"What is it? Has something happened to the captain?" His eyes went to the biobed.

"Her condition remains unchanged," the Doctor reassured him. "She's still unconscious, but is showing small incremental improvements. No, she's not the one I'm concerned about." He paused. "It's Kes."

"What's wrong?"

"You know that even before our first encounter with Species 8472, Kes began experiencing visions or hallucinations of a sort. She believed that they were trying to make contact with her telepathically."

Her premonitions of the destruction of the Borg armada. The weak will perish. Chakotay remembered all too well. "And now?"

"The number of 'visions' is increasing. She is reporting receiving 'flashes' every few moments. And the impressions are growing stronger."

"What does this mean?"

The Doctor hesitated. "I don't know. But it gives me cause for concern. I have her hooked up to a cortical monitor--the activity in her hippocampus is jumping off the scale. I could give her a neural suppressant, but I'm not sure how effective that may be or for how long."

"Understood." Chakotay turned to go. "I've got to get back to the Bridge. Let me know if there are any further developments."

"Report." Chakotay settled himself in the command chair.

"We're in orbit around a class H moon--oxygen/argon atmosphere," answered Paris.

"That'll do." Chakotay turned around. "Tuvok, prepare to beam the Borg straight from the cargo bay onto the surface."

"Unable to comply, Commander. A force field has been erected around the cargo bay."

Before Chakotay could react, however, Kim interjected, "Commander, the Borg have accessed deflector controls."

"Shut them out, Ensign!" Damn. What were they up to now?

Kim's fingers flew over the controls. "I can't--the deflector has already been activated."

"Confirmed," said Tuvok from his station. "The deflector is emitting a burst of energy with a distinctive tachyon signature. It's causing a singularity to form."

"Onscreen." The main view screen instantly shifted to display a whirling eddy in space. Chakotay punched savagely at the console. "Bridge to Cargo Bay 2. If you don't halt the deflector beam, I'm going to decompress the bay."

There was no response. Chakotay looked at Tuvok, who confirmed, "No change in the deflector status, Commander. The singularity is growing in size."

"Do it," Chakotay ordered. He ignored the shocked looks from some of the bridge staff and deliberately kept his gaze on the main viewscreen, trying not to envision the bodies being blown into space. Death was never a pleasant experience, but some ways were harsher than others. He reminded himself that the individuals being spaced had in reality died much earlier, when their minds and bodies were assimilated by the Collective. The physical destruction of drones--was it comparable to the loss of sentient beings who loved and laughed and wept? He didn't want to dwell on the answer.

A few moments later, Tuvok reported, "Decompression complete. There are no life signs present in Cargo Bay 2, or in the adjacent Jeffries tubes." He paused. "But we are being pulled into the singularity."

"Full reverse!"

"It's no use, Commander." The last of the stars vanished around them, being replaced by a viscous gray-green material. "We have entered fluidic space."

The Doctor stood between the two beds, glancing from one to the other. At his left, the captain showed signs of regaining consciousness soon. Her brain activity had risen markedly, particularly in the last quarter of an hour. Any satisfaction he might have felt, however, was tempered when he looked at Kes. She moved restlessly on the bed, held back only by restraints. Her face contorted as if in pain; she constantly muttered words that made no sense. He had already given her as much of the neural suppressant as he dared.

His attention was caught suddenly by the realization he could no longer hear or feel the warp engines. Had the ship come to a complete stop? His hand moved to his comm badge, but stopped when he heard a weak voice call, "Doctor?"

The captain's eyes were open, and she was attempting to sit up. He was at her side in an instant.

"Captain, please lie back down. Your condition is very weak--"

"What's going on? How long have I been unconscious?"

"Fourteen hours, and twenty seven minutes. You were in an artificially induced coma to facilitate healing after surgery for the injuries you sustained aboard the Borg cube."

"The Borg. What's happening now?" Her eyes darted to the wall, to the red alert beacons. "Are we under attack?"

He attempted to reason with her once more. "Captain, please--"

"Damn it, my ship is in danger and I want to know what's going on!" She pushed herself to a sitting position and grimaced in pain. "If you can't bring me up to speed, Doctor, then I suggest you get someone in here who can."

Any reply he would have made was cut off when an alarm near Kes's bed sounded. He rushed over to her.

The captain stared. "Kes?"

The Doctor slowly turned around. "She's still holding on, just barely." He came to a decision. "Very well, Captain, I'll fill you in on what's been happening."

Chakotay had rarely felt as helpless as he did at that moment. The Borg threat aboard Voyager had been neutralized, but the ship was in fluidic space, with no way of determining their position, let alone finding their way back. A team of engineers had entered Cargo Bay 2 and were analyzing the means by which the singularity had been formed. Torres was attempting to make sense of the Borg systems and determine a way to duplicate the procedure. However, she was none too confident of success.

Chakotay had ordered continuous scans of the surrounding area; the only good news so far was that no bioships had been detected. But the fact remained that it was only a matter of time.

"Doctor to Commander Chakotay."

"Chakotay here."

"The captain has regained consciousness, and is quite insistent that she speak with you."

Chakotay didn't even hesitate. "I'll be right there. Tuvok, you have the bridge."

Janeway stood next to Kes's bed, her head bowed, her concern and worry obvious from the set of her shoulders. She glanced up when the doors opened. The words of greeting died on Chakotay's lips as she turned to face him. She was in full uniform. Chakotay scarcely heard the Doctor's report on her condition. He recognized the look on her face and steeled himself for the confrontation he'd known was coming ever since he'd made his decision to end the alliance.

"Doctor, would you mind giving us a few moments?" The captain's voice was quite calm. Too calm.

"Of course." With one last look at Kes, the EMH retreated into his office.

"Would you like to tell me just what you were doing?" she asked, her hands already on her hips. "Why you decided to end the alliance and unceremoniously dumped the Borg into space? What the hell were you thinking?"

He fought to keep his own anger in check. "I was protecting the welfare of this ship."

"By deliberately disobeying my orders?"

"With all due respect, Captain, you left me in command," he said stiffly, willing himself not to reveal his own fears or doubts. "In your absence, the Borg immediately demanded we turn back, travel 40 light years to rendezvous with another of their ships, and when I refused, threatened to assimilate us. I told them I would drop them off on the nearest inhabitable planet; they accessed the deflector and caused us to be pulled into fluidic space."

She waved his words away. "I know all that. What I don't understand is why you--" She stopped and appeared to get hold of herself. "But that's not important now. We can argue over assigning blame later. Right now we have figure out a way out of this mess."

She broke off, and Chakotay realized that despite her apparent show of vigor and health, the captain was not operating at full strength. A look of weariness passed over her face, and she caught hold of the edge of the diagnostic console for support.

He took a step toward her. "Are you all right?"

Though that was clearly not the case, she forced a smile. "As well as can be expected."

He didn't know whether to feel relieved or angry that she was pushing herself, stepping up to take command once more, as if she couldn't or wouldn't trust him not to make the situation worse. But as she'd said, they could deal with the emotional fallout later. The most important thing was to work together to solve the crisis. "What did you have in mind?"

"We tried dealing with the devil we know." Janeway gestured to the biobed where Kes lay. "Perhaps it's time to talk to the other side. After all, now we're on their home turf."

The Doctor looked thoroughly outraged. "Once again, Captain, I must protest. There's no telling what this is going to do to Kes--"

"I understand your concerns," Janeway said, with a calm she didn't feel. "The point is, the aliens are already in contact with her. She has shown a limited ability to communicate with them earlier, or at least to interpret their statements to us. And you said yourself, you can't inhibit the telepathic impressions any longer."

The Doctor's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Very well."

Janeway tapped her comm badge. "Sickbay to Chakotay."

"Go ahead, Captain."

"We're ready to proceed. Anything on long range sensors?"

"We've detected five ships approaching. " She caught the unspoken words--it was now or never.

"Understood." Janeway nodded to the Doctor, who then administered a hypo to Kes's prone form.

Almost immediately, the Ocampan began to moan. The monitor behind the bed lit up in furious intensity.

Janeway reached over and took Kes's hands in her own. "Kes, can you hear me?"

The younger woman, nodded, her eyes wide and distraught.

"Are you receiving anything from Species 8472?"

Kes nodded. "Surprise…they didn't expect to encounter us here, in fluidic space. Anger…they're angry at our intrusion, both in their realm and in their war with the Borg."

Janeway caught Kes's gaze in her own. "Tell them we didn't come here of our own free will, that we were drawn into their space by accident. We mean them no harm."

Kes was silent for a moment, then shook her head. "They don't believe us, Captain. They know we've been helping the Borg against them."

"Tell them to scan our ship, they’ll see that there are no longer any Borg on board."

"It doesn't matter--they say that we joined their enemies and have helped cause the destruction of too many of their kind."

"Tell them we had no choice! We were only defending ourselves!"

"It's no use. They say they're acting out of self-defense as well." Kes's eyes closed. When she reopened them, there was a new intensity in her gaze. "The Borg started this war, Captain, they invaded fluidic space initially. Species 8472--they call themselves the Ta'Nim--only fought back to protect themselves. They entered our galaxy to defeat the threat to their survival at the source."

It came as no surprise to Janeway. The Borg lived for conquest; in their arrogance they must have assumed that no one could withstand them for long. But for once resistance hadn't proved to be futile. Janeway shivered. Your galaxy will be purged--it sounded like the conflict had long since escalated beyond its original parameters. She forced herself to concentrate on the issue at hand. "Tell them all we want is to exit their space peacefully, that we will not involve ourselves further in their war against the Borg."

Kes's eyes clouded. "It's too late."

"Chakotay to Janeway."

Without taking her eyes off Kes, Janeway responded, "Yes, Commander."

"The bioships we detected earlier are nearing our position. They're going to be within range in less than two minutes."

The captain's mouth tightened. Time was running out. "Target their ships, but wait until I give the order to fire." She tapped her badge again. "Janeway to Torres. B'Elanna, status?"

"The nanoprobe weapons are as ready as they're ever going to be, Captain."

"Any progress on getting us out of here, Lieutenant?"

"Based on the data from the initial use of the deflector to open the singularity, I think I've devised a way of duplicating the procedure." Torres hesitated. "There's no way to test it, Captain--it either works or it doesn't."

"Understood. Stand by." She turned back to Kes, hoping to make one more stab at resolving this conflict peacefully.

On the bridge, Chakotay's attention was riveted on the main viewscreen. Even without the constant updates from Tactical, he could tell that the bioships were getting closer.

An energy beam lanced out, enveloping Voyager. Chakotay managed to maintain his seat. "Report."

"Shields down to 83%."

Chakotay punched at his console. "Engineering, now would be a very good time for us to get out of here."

"I'm waiting for confirmation from the Captain--"

Janeway's voice cut in just then. "OK, B'Elanna--do it! Chakotay, if this doesn't work, prepare to fire."

"Accessing the deflector controls…now," Torres said tersely.

The main viewscreen remained unchanged. Chakotay felt the sweat begin to bead on his forehead as the bioships fired again.

"Shields down to 67%," Tuvok announced.

Chakotay didn't hesitate any longer. "Target the lead ship. Fire."

For a long heart-stopping moment it looked as though that had been ineffectual as well, but then the bioship blew apart. However, any relief was short-lived. "Another seven ships are converging on our position," Kim said.

"Engineering to Bridge," Torres' voice sounded over the comm system." I think I know what the problem was. Compensating, and trying again." Chakotay held his breath.

"Another singularity is forming," Tuvok reported, "Off our port bow."

"Mr. Paris," began Chakotay, his eyes fixed on the rippling matter on the screen.

"Already on it, Commander." Even as Paris spoke, the ship began slowly maneuvering forward.

"We're being pulled in," Tuvok confirmed.

The captain was listening as well. "Good work," said Janeway. "Chakotay, brace yourselves--there's a strong possibility we're going to have some company on the other side."

The ship shuddered, whether due to the passage through the singularity or continued firing by the bioships. Chakotay wasn't sure. "Tuvok--prepare to fire from the aft torpedo bays."

"Understood, Commander."

The sight of real stars was a very welcome one, but Chakotay couldn't enjoy it just yet. The ship shuddered again. "The singularity is collapsing, but six ships have followed us back to normal space," came the report.

Chakotay counted off the seconds to himself. "Fire!"

"Full spread of torpedoes…firing now." A tense moment later, Tuvok looked up. "All the bioships have been destroyed, Commander."

Chakotay passed his hand over his face wearily. "Helm, plot a course back to the Alpha Quadrant." He punched his console, "Bridge to Jane--"

Kim's shout interrupted him. "Commander, our position--this can't be right."

"What is it, Harry?"

Kim was staring at his console in disbelief. "According to this, we're 10,000 light years from where we first entered fluidic space."

Chakotay felt his own jaw drop. "How?"

"Obviously, we exited at a point other than the one at which we entered," Tuvok said dryly.

"So it would seem." Chakotay was silent for a moment, finding it difficult to assimilate the news. "Any sign of any Borg vessels or Species 8472?"

"Negative."

Chakotay drew a sigh of relief. "Resume course, Mr. Paris."

Janeway looked up from her desk when Chakotay entered the Ready Room. "Have a seat, Commander," she said. "I'll be with you in a moment."

Chakotay took the indicated chair and waited. He had a pretty good idea of what the main topic of discussion would be, and while he wasn't looking forward to it, he still felt his command decisions had been justified. He'd defend himself if necessary, but he was getting tired of the constant arguments. That seemed to be their major form of communication these days.

He didn't have to wait long. After a few minutes the captain rose from her seat and began pacing the room. It was usually an indication of nervousness on her part; Chakotay guessed she wasn't relishing the thought of another confrontation either.

He suppressed a sigh. From the beginning of their professional association, he and Janeway hadn't always seen eye to eye, but even when they'd disagreed, they had managed to keep their levels of discourse civil. Their ill-defined personal relationship was another story, although until now it hadn't impinged upon the command team performance. Ever since they'd first encountered evidence of the Borg, however, they had found it increasingly difficult to function as a smooth unit. He didn't know whose fault it was, or even if there was any blame to be ascribed. He'd told himself the captain was the one who'd muddied the waters of their working relationship. He'd stated his qualms about her decision, as any good first officer would in that situation. Granted, he hadn't exactly presented her with a workable alternative, but that hadn't warranted her totally ignoring his misgivings and plunging ahead with her ill-fated alliance. Nor accusing him of abandoning her simply because he didn't agree with her.

Janeway finally halted, and looked at him. Her expression was unreadable.

Chakotay felt a stab of…pity? Or was that his own discomfort speaking? Regardless, he felt a need to break the silence. "I assume you want to discuss the ship's status, Captain. Considering our situation just a few days ago, we're in pretty good shape. Most of the damage we sustained has been repaired, and B'Elanna is making progress on removing the Borg technology from the cargo bay and Engineering."

"Not all of it," Janeway answered. "Some of the shielding may prove useful." She gave a rueful grin. "Too bad the Borg didn't install a transwarp coil or two while they were at it."

"True. Still, we've managed to take a good ten years off our journey, either by skill or luck."

"Probably both," the captain said. Her back was to him, her gaze fixed on the viewport. "Our little interlude in fluidic space did us some good after all."

"And now we're in a region that appears to be free of Borg influence, and there's no further sign of any incursions by the Ta'Nim." He looked down at his hands, willing himself to relax. "And Kes seems to be back to her usual self. All's well that ends well, I'd say."

"Not quite," Janeway said softly.

Chakotay glanced up at the change in her tone. He braced himself for what he knew was coming.

"There's some unfinished business between us, Commander, regarding your conduct while I was incapacitated." She swung around to face him, then plowed doggedly ahead. "I owe you an apology."

Startled, he opened his mouth to speak, but she motioned for him to be silent. "You were right. You saw a danger to the ship and you took steps to protect this crew. It's easy for me to sit in judgment afterward, but the fact remains that if I had been in command, I may very well have come to the same conclusions you did."

"What changed your mind?" he asked curiously.

"I've been reading some of the security reports. But that's not all--mostly, I've just been doing some thinking. About your story of the scorpion, and acting according to one's nature--a captain has to trust her officers to do the right thing. I'm guilty of betraying that trust." She came closer to him, touched his arm tentatively. "From when we first realized we were entering Borg space."

His throat suddenly dry, he said, "You didn't want to turn back, give the appearance of having given up on our journey home."

"That was a possibility I wasn't prepared to accept then."

"Are you now?"

She sighed. "I don't know. Fortunately, it doesn't look like I'll be faced with that kind of decision again, at least in the near future. If and when it comes up at a later date…" Her voice trailed off. "But that's not what I was referring to, Chakotay." Her troubled eyes sought his once more and she repeated, "I owe you an apology."

His voice carefully neutral, he said, "You're the captain; the final decision is yours."

"That's not what I meant. Four years ago, when we first found ourselves in the Delta Quadrant, I defined parameters for our relationship, according to Starfleet protocols. Even though our situation wasn't quite a textbook case, and there was definitely a need for flexibility. Up to now, I've been very careful about maintaining that balance, even though there were times…" She took a deep breath. "I crossed the line, Chakotay. When you disagreed with me, I took it as a personal betrayal. That was wrong."

With sudden clarity, he remembered the earlier scene between them.

"So it looks like you've made your decision, Captain. What was the purpose of this meeting? You've already decided to go ahead with this alliance, despite my advising against it."

"Then I guess I am alone, after all."

He rose from his seat. "My conduct wasn't exactly very professional, either. I gave you reason to believe that I wouldn't follow your orders, based on my own feelings of what should or should not be done."

She smiled, the first genuine smile he'd seen on her face for a long time. "I suppose there's enough blame to go around."

"Definitely."

She caught the undertone in his voice at once. "You tried a deal of your own with the devil, didn't you?"

He nodded. "More like playing God. You might be justified in saying I took the easy way out."

Janeway shook her head emphatically. "I wouldn't call deciding to space a dozen or so Borg drones an easy decision."

"No, it wasn't." He hesitated. "You may think it's strange, but for some reason, I keep thinking about them. They didn't start out as Borg, they must have had lives that were disrupted when they were assimilated." He thought of Riley and her group, of how they had reverted back to their former selves once their connection with the Borg was broken. Even though they had eventually elected to form a 'new' Collective, they had seemed glad to reclaim their individuality.

"I know," Janeway said quietly. "The Borg spokesperson, Seven of Nine--she was human once, did you know that?" He shook his head. "She mentioned, briefly, that she had been assimilated as a child. I wonder, if circumstances had been different…"

Chakotay's eyes widened. "You think you might have been able to separate her from the Collective, make her human again?" He thought for a moment. "I don't know if that would have been possible, let alone feasible."

"The Enterprise was able to save Picard," she countered.

"That's different. He was only Borg for a short time. Most of his life was spent as a human."

"Is it so different? I wonder. The assimilation process is the same, the raping of one's individuality--"

"But Picard had his memories of his former life to help him," Chakotay pointed out. "This Seven of Nine must have been assimilated at a very young age."

"I suppose so." Janeway shook herself. "Regardless, it's too late now. Hopefully, it'll be a long time, if ever, before we encounter the Borg again."

He couldn't help adding, "They're still out there, you know. Along with the Ta'Nim."

"And other enemies as well, that we haven't even encountered yet," she said, just the slightest trace of worry in her eyes. "But I prefer to take an optimistic view--we made it this far, bested both foes." She took his hand in hers. "And together, we can continue onward and actually make it home one day."

He looked down at their hands and smiled. "Together, Captain?"

She returned his smile. "That's something else I think we need to discuss, how we can ensure that we don't have any more difficulties integrating our command interactions with a private relationship." She forestalled his next comment. "And this is one issue in which the captain isn't going to make any more unilateral decisions."

The omnipotent being known as Q nodded approvingly at the image of Voyager's captain and first officer standing looking out at the stars from the Ready Room, their hands intertwined. It had taken only a small intervention on his part to restore the timeline to what it should have been, at least in this particular reality. It had been distasteful to step in, but someone needed to stop the destructive actions and designs of the malevolent B. His lips quirked in a sudden smile, as he envisioned how this would look to the humans, if they were aware of what had just occurred. God and the devil, indeed.

FINIS

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