Received: from [66.218.67.194] by n1.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 22 Jun 2004 22:00:16 -0000 X-Sender: asc-l@ix.netcom.com X-Apparently-To: ascem-s@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 56252 invoked from network); 22 Jun 2004 21:59:43 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.217) by m12.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 22 Jun 2004 21:59:43 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO hall.mail.mindspring.net) (207.69.200.60) by mta2.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 22 Jun 2004 21:59:43 -0000 Received: from h-66-167-46-192.phlapafg.dynamic.covad.net ([66.167.46.192] helo=katiedell.ix.netcom.com) by hall.mail.mindspring.net with esmtp (Exim 3.33 #1) id 1BctIq-0007f6-00 for ascem-s@yahoogroups.com; Tue, 22 Jun 2004 17:59:40 -0400 Message-Id: <5.2.1.1.2.20040622180504.03751040@popd.ix.netcom.com> X-Sender: asc-l@popd.ix.netcom.com X-Mailer: QUALCOMM Windows Eudora Version 5.2.1 To: ascem-s@yahoogroups.com X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 207.69.200.60 From: ASC Archive Team MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEM-S-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Tue, 22 Jun 2004 18:05:21 -0400 Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW: Ceremony: The Drone (VOY; J, Seven; PG-13); 3/5 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 X-ELNK-AV: 0 Title: Ceremony Author: Kelly [Chambliss] Email: rather_be_reading @ yahoo.com Website: http://appelsini.tripod.com/Kelly/ Series: VOY Codes: Janeway and others Rating: PG-13 Part: 1/5 Posted: June 22, 2004 Archive: ASC(EM); BLTS; others please ask Disclaimer: All that is Trek belongs to Paramount. Summary: Captain Janeway gets promoted. Part Three: The Drone ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ I attended the ceremony. It never occurred to me not to go, although, when I accepted the invitation, Chakotay tried to dissuade me. "You'll be bored, Seven," he said. "And you'll be swamped by the press." "I do not expect to enjoy myself," I replied. I forbore to point out that enjoyment was not the point of such rituals. He already knew that, and in any event, his comment was not motivated by a concern for my entertainment. He was worried that I would ask him to accompany me. "I am happy to go alone," I told him. "And I will have no trouble with the press." It was true. I had found that when accosted by reporters, I had only to stare at them and keep my face blank, so that they could read in it whatever they pleased. Since they ended up leaving me alone, I assume they were pleased to feel slightly afraid of me. I did not mind. "Now you're angry," Chakotay said. "Not at all. I feel no distress. It is my choice to attend, yours to remain here. Neither of us is obligated to follow the other's path." I said nothing further, for to continue the conversation would be to risk another emotional discussion about Captain Janeway. Chakotay persists in thinking that I am made uncomfortable by his complicated relationship with her, that I judge or blame him in some way. I do not, but he does not believe me. I saw no point in addressing the subject again. Long ago, before Voyager's return to the AQ, I asked the Captain about her feelings for Chakotay. The crew always gossiped about the two of them, and I wished to know the truth. I thought she might resent my presumption, so I toyed with the idea of hiding my question behind my shield of Borg ignorance. I considered going to her quarters late at night, inventing some existentialist dilemma about sex and relationships. But I didn't. It seemed manipulative, and in any case, I no longer wanted her to instruct me. I wanted her to talk with me. So I waited until we reached a supply planet that offered the chance for shore leave. I took mine alone. It surprised some people -- the doctor, for instance -- that I, a former Borg, could crave solitude. But the constant busy companionship aboard Voyager was very different from the smooth unity of the Collective. I had come to find privacy soothing. Even though I went to the planet's surface on my own, I cannot claim to have come upon the Captain by accident. In fact, I identified her location before I left the ship. I am not certain where I thought she would go for relaxation, but I did not expect that it would be a beachfront café in a resort area. Nonetheless, there I found her, sitting at a table by herself, slightly apart from the crowds. She was out of uniform, wearing a light, flowing dress that left her shoulders and legs bare. Unlike the others in the café, she was not eating; her table held only a bottle and a small glass. I watched her for a few minutes, still uncertain whether I would interrupt her or simply walk on the beach by myself. In the end, she made the decision for me. Although I believed I had kept out of her sight, I was mistaken; she noticed me and motioned me to join her. She seemed neither surprised to see me nor annoyed at being disturbed. When the server brought another glass, she poured me a drink. It was alcoholic, and I half-expected her to say something educational about its potential effects, but she did not. "What brings you here, Seven?" she asked, after sipping her own drink. "I wouldn't have thought this" -- a wave of her hand indicated the beach and the noisy crowds -- "would have much appeal for you." "Nor for you, Captain." She shrugged and smiled, allowing me to evade her question. We sat in silence for a time, then talked idly of random topics. Somehow the conversation found its way to the Alpha Quadrant. I remember that I said, "You will no doubt be promoted upon our return," and she did not disagree. But neither did she seem pleased. "Is that not what you want?" I asked her. "What I want," she said, her voice tight, "is to get that damned ship home and then be left the hell alone." I rose, regretting that I had intruded upon her, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me back, her fingers digging into my flesh. "I don't mean you, Seven." "But I. . . " "Sit down!. . .please." I sat. And she drank, her gaze fixed on the water, her body tense. Not until the bottle was empty and she had called for another did she lean back in her chair and look at me. "Tell me why you're here," she said. I saw no reason not to be equally direct. "I wanted to talk with you. Not on the ship. Not as my mentor or captain." "As what, then? A friend?" Her tone was mocking, and I think I would have walked away, except that her disdain did not appear to be directed at me. "Do you have friends, Captain?" I was not being rude; I wanted to know. "No." She was staring at the ocean again. "What about Commander Chakotay?" It was not the way I had planned to introduce his name, but then, nothing about this meeting was as I had envisioned it. "Chakotay. . ." She was no longer irritated, merely pensive, twisting her glass in her hands. When she finally turned to me, it was with an expression I hadn't seen before. "I considered Chakotay a friend, once. Now I don't know quite what he is." "Your first officer?" It was a joke of sorts, and she knew it. Her response was rueful. "Oh, yes, he is always that." She eyed me speculatively. "What are you really asking, Seven?" "You and the commander. . ." I began. And stopped. How could I have thought I would be able to invade her privacy in this way? I had no idea what to say next. But the captain rescued me as usual. "Don't tell me the crew has been gossiping again." I nodded, and she surprised me by grinning. "Chakotay and I are supposedly locked in a deathless romance?" "Not deathless," I corrected. "Most people think he's thrown you over." The captain flung back her head and laughed for quite a while. "My god," she said, when she could speak. "Do me a favor, Seven. The next time someone brings this up, tell them they're right. Tell them you have it on good authority that Chakotay threw over the captain because she's a frigid lay." Perhaps she meant only to startle me. But I felt. . .included, somehow, as if I were part of her life in a way I had not yet been. I wanted to show her that I understood. Perhaps I also hoped she would understand *me* and what I was trying to say. "Is she?" I asked. She just smiled at me and touched my hand. "Let's have dinner," she said. After our return to the ship, we never referred to this conversation. I don't know if she thought of it when she learned I had become involved with Chakotay, but if she did, she no doubt assumed that my curiosity had been an indication of my interest in the commander. It probably did not occur to her that my real interests lay. . .elsewhere. I think it may have occurred to Admiral Paris. I saw him staring at us after the promotion ceremony, looking unhappy, as the Captain. . .or, I should say, the Admiral, spoke to me. But he hurried away, and I do not believe Admiral Janeway noticed him. I turned when I felt her hand on my shoulder. She thanked me for coming. Messages from this list are mirrored on the ASCEM newsgroup. Read http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML/files/faq.txt for more information about your subscription to ASCEM/L. Yahoo! Groups Links