Title:  Rationality
Author:  Sasscat Bu-to-y
Series:  Voyager
Rating:  PG
Codes:  P/7, slight J/P
Part:  2/2

Summary:  Seven and Tom are assigned to a routine mission, but things
become more complicated when the Borg arrive on the scene.


Rationality
     (c) Sasscat Bu-to-y 1999

"Retrieve them," Seven demanded, glaring at Chakotay across the
biobed.

"We're trying to work out how to do that," Chakotay said through
gritted teeth.  "We can't just go waltzing in and ask the Borg Queen
to let them go, you know."

"Sarcasm," Seven identified, folding her arms.  "You are afraid."

"And you are not thinking," Chakotay shot back.  "I want them back as
much as you do, Seven, but it's just not feasible yet.  If you want
the captain and Tom back so badly, get down to Engineering and give
B'Elanna and Harry a hand with the new cloaks."

As if on cue, his commbadge beeped.  "Kim to Chakotay; Commander, the
new cloaking devices are ready."

"Will they work this time?" Chakotay asked.

"I think so--  We figured out what the problem was with the others;
there was a tachyon leak, and--"

"Save it, Harry.  Just rig up enough for a new away team."

"We've got five, sir; is that enough?"

Chakotay looked at Seven.  "That's fine, Harry.  I want you, B'Elanna
and Tuvok to meet me in transporter room two five minutes ago.  Are we
still in range of the cube?"

"Yes sir; we only just caught the last conduit with them, though."

That was too close for Chakotay's liking.  If they missed a transwarp
conduit, they'd never get Tom and the captain back.  "Then we'd better
act now," he said grimly.  "See you in the transporter room.  Chakotay
out.  Seven, you're with me."

                                 =/\=

The cube was busier than the last time they'd materialised there.
Harry swung his tricorder around, but couldn't find any human life
signs within a hundred metres.  At least he knew it worked, since it
had picked up Tom's appearance on the last rescue mission.

Borg were moving in all directions.  B'Elanna had managed to clear up
the visual distortions the cloaks had been producing, but there wasn't
a lot to see anyway.  Harry took an involuntary step back as one of
the drones seemed to look straight at him.  That was a sight he could
definitely have done without.

The drone passed without incident, however, and the away team walked
cautiously down the corridor.  Finally Harry's tricorder beeped.

"Commander," he whispered.  Chakotay moved to look at the readings.
"This way," Harry gestured to the others, indicating a corridor
branching off the one they were on.

The readings grew stronger as the away team continued along the new
corridor.  Before long the blips separated into two distinct patterns;
Tom and the captain.  Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"Unimatrix 131," Seven stated quietly at the next junction.

Harry stopped and nodded at Chakotay.  Chakotay nodded back, and Harry
and B'Elanna crept around the corner.

There were a crowd of drones, at least ten, moving from console to
access panel to wall station.  Twelve, actually, Harry corrected
himself.  Of course - Six of Eleven, Tom had called himself, and the
captain made twelve.

B'Elanna elbowed him in the ribs, and Harry looked where she was
pointing.  Two drones that looked awfully familiar were working side
by side at a wall station.  Harry took a breath and moved towards
them, pulling out his spare commbadge.  Beside him, B'Elanna did the
same.

They attached the commbadges to the drones as soundlessly as they
could.  Even a small click of activation could alert the Borg to their
presence, but the drones made no sign of hearing anything.  Harry
closed his eyes for a moment in relief, then moved as quickly as he
dared back to the corner with B'Elanna.

"Chakotay to Voyager," the commander was already saying; "seven to
beam directly to Sickbay.  Jam all frequencies and get us the hell out
of here."

And then it was Sickbay.  The two drones were the first to react,
staggering at the abrupt removal from the Collective mind.  They
turned to the away team.

"Voyager," the Janeway drone hissed.  "Take us back."

"I can't do that," Chakotay said evenly.  "Doctor--"

"We cannot hear the Collective!" she protested.  Chakotay didn't move.
Then the Doctor was at her side, pressing a hypospray into her neck
before she could react.

The Tom drone flinched again, turning towards her as she collapsed.
"Seven of Twelve--!"

"Time to go nighty-night, Ensign," the Doctor said brightly, waving
the hypospray.

"Return us," Tom gasped, putting a hand to his head.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."  The Doctor sedated him in an easy
movement, shifting him up onto a biobed.  "If someone would care to
help me with the captain - thank you, Commander - then I can begin
removing their implants."

"I will assist you," Seven said, ignoring the sudden attention she
received as everyone looked at her.

"Thank you," the Doctor said.  "Commander, I expect you're needed on
the bridge.  I'd hate to remove all the captain's implants and then be
blown to smithereens anyway."

"Notify me when you're done," Chakotay said, looking at Janeway's
body.  "Harry, Tuvok."

"I'll get to Engineering," B'Elanna announced to no one in particular.
It wasn't long before there was no one left in Sickbay but the Doctor,
Seven, and the two unconscious drones.

"Well," the Doctor said cheerfully, "let's begin, shall we?"

                                 =/\=

Janeway - Seven of Twelve - no, Janeway.  Dammit.  Whoever she was,
she was awake, and she didn't like it.  "Mmph," she complained.

"Captain," said a cool, flat voice that almost made her think she was
Seven of Twelve after all.  But that wasn't right.  *She* wasn't
Seven; the owner of the cool voice was Seven.  So she must be Janeway.

Janeway opened her eyes slowly.  The light was bright and the wrong
colour; she had the feeling it ought to be greener.  There ought to be
more people, too, more voices.  Friendlier voices.  She didn't want to
be alone with Seven.

"I'm... on Voyager," she said slowly, the memories beginning to come
back to her.

"That's right," Seven said.  "You are the captain of Voyager.  You--"

"Seven," someone interrupted urgently.  The Doctor.  "He's going into
neural shock again.  I don't understand it!  I'm using the exact same
techniques developed by Doctor Beverly Crusher--"

"He's fighting the removal of his implants," Seven stated, moving
away from Janeway.  "You said that this happened to me when you were
removing my own implants."

Janeway sat up to see what was happening, and felt a jolt of
recognition run through her at the convulsing figure on the other
biobed.  "Six of Twelve," she whispered.

"Yes, but then Kes was around to dissolve the implant that was
threatening your life."  The Doctor sounded frustrated.  "In case you
hadn't noticed, we have a shortage of telekinetic Ocampan nurses at
the moment."

Six of Twelve... but someone else as well.  Someone important to her.
She stared at his face, the woven strips of metal where an optical
implant had been.  She lifted a hand to her own face instinctively
and encountered only smooth skin.

"Let me speak to him," Seven suggested.  "I will initiate a direct
neural interface."

"A Borg mind meld?" the Doctor said dryly.

"It could be called that."  Seven reached towards the body and plunged
her assimilation tubes into its neck.  Her eyes closed briefly--

--and Seven of Twelve could almost hear what was being said.  The
voices were so close.  /Six of Twelve,/ she called, but she couldn't
understand the reply.  /Six of Twelve,/ she repeated.  /Answer me!/
But the answer was still too faint for her to make out.  /I am alone!/

This time she thought she could hear him.  /Never alone.../  Or
perhaps she imagined the response.

The voices stopped.  She opened her eyes, seeing Seven, the other
Seven, pull away from the no longer convulsing drone.

"Well?" the Doctor asked impatiently.

"I am not sure," Seven said, watching and waiting.

Six of Twelve stirred.

"He's regaining consciousness," the Doctor said irritably.  "That
wasn't what I had in mind."

"Seven..." he whispered.

Seven grasped his hand, watching him intently.  "I'm here, Tom.  You
are safe."

Ahh... Tom...  Janeway relaxed as she finally placed the drone.

Tom pulled his hand away, looking around blindly.  "Seven...  Seven of
Twelve..."

Seven of Nine recoiled, stepping back blindly towards the wall where
it intruded on the room.

Janeway shook her head in confusion, trying to work out whether she
was Seven of Twelve or not.

"Seven of Twelve," Tom repeated plaintively.  She made up her mind and
slid off the biobed to stand beside him.

"Six of Twelve?" she queried.

He looked at her, seeming to register her presence for a moment, then
looked away again.  "Seven of Twelve...?"  He closed his eyes in
defeat, and a moment later lapsed into unconsciousness again.

"Excuse me, Captain," the Doctor said quietly, guiding Janeway back
to her own biobed.  "Seven, I suggest we try and finish quickly.
There's no telling when he may wake up again."

Seven was still staring at Tom.  "Understood," she said quietly.

                                 =/\=

Janeway was walking along Voyager's deserted corridors when she came
face-to-dimly-lit-face with the Borg Queen.  She gripped her tricorder
firmly.  /I'm going to find him.  He doesn't belong to you./

/His biological distinctiveness has been added to our own,/ the Queen
said in a hollow voice.

/I'm going to find him!/ Janeway insisted.  She turned and started
running in the other direction, knowing she didn't have much time.

The Queen stepped in front of her, even more shadowed than before.
/Resistance is futile./

/No--/  Janeway stopped in horror as the Queen stepped out of the
shadows.  She had Tom's face.

/We are the Borg,/ s/he said flatly.

Janeway started backing away, but Tom followed at the same rate.
/No--/
      /You will be assimilated./
                                /No--/
                                      /Your biological distinctiveness
will be added to our own./
                          /No--/

/Our thoughts are one./
                       /No!/ Janeway cried, backing into the wall.

Tom's optical implant shone directly into her face, half-blinding her
with the bright red light.  She flinched away from it, squinting.
/Tom, fight it.  I can hear you.  Come on, Tom.../

/Captain,/ he breathed softly.  She held her breath, waiting.  They
had to defeat the Borg.  They needed Tom.  She needed him.

He kissed her.

She kissed back, lips parting to grant his tongue access, clinging to
him.  /Yes,/ he murmured without speaking.  /Seven...  Seven of
Twelve.../

And nanoprobes were shooting into her mouth from his, swarming into
her lungs and her stomach to *change* her, make her machine, and he
wouldn't let go and she couldn't get free and she could hear the
Collective like vultures just waiting for her to fail, so many of
them--

She didn't scream when she woke, just gasped a little and pushed at
her covers.  It took her a moment to reorient herself and to slow her
heartbeat, then she brushed her fingers over her still-burning mouth.

"I am human," she reminded herself.  "I am Captain Kathryn Janeway of
the Federation Starship Voyager.  I beat the Borg with coffee.  I'm
not going to let them beat me with Tom."

Her eyes flickered upwards as she realised what she'd said.  Tom
wasn't Borg either.  She had to get past this... learn to follow what
Tom had called Starfleet's 'shit happens' mentality.  Voyager had come
through.  Chakotay had rescued them, the Doctor had removed their
implants.  There was nothing to worry about anymore.

Except that she could still hear the Collective.

She tapped her commbadge.  "Janeway to--"  The ship rocked, violently.
"To the bridge," she finished with a sigh.  "I'm on my way; Janeway
out."  She grabbed her dressing gown and headed out the door, wrapping
it around her.

Tom was on the turbolift, still bearing remnants of his Borg implants.
Janeway hadn't understood the exact mechanics of why his were more
difficult to remove; it was enough to know that he still looked
unsettlingly Borg.  They stared at each other silently for the short
trip to the bridge, then each looked away at exactly the same time.
Janeway shivered.

"Report," she said, striding onto the bridge.  The voices were a
little louder.  She remembered that Captain Picard had reported
hearing the Collective whenever the Enterprise had come across a cube.
Seven and One had heard them, as well.  So much for it all being over.

"A Borg cube came out of nowhere," Rollins said, gratefully turning
Tactical over to Tuvok as the latter arrived.  "Minimal damage, thanks
to the new shielding."

"They'll adapt," Janeway said grimly.  Already they were analysing the
frequency of the shields, the design--  "Tuvok, rotate shield
frequency by random amounts every point two of a second.  Tom, evasive
pattern delta tuck'n'roll.  Janeway to Seven of Nine; report to the
bridge."  She was running on instinct now, trying to keep one step
ahead of the voices in her head as well as keeping them at arms'
length.  What was it Seven had said?  'The lure of perfection is
powerful.'  Damn straight.

She braced herself just before the ship rolled, keeping Tom to one
side of her mind.  Then Seven arrived, another mind added to the
clamour inside.  Damn, she was going to have one hell of a headache
when this was over.  "Seven, take Tactical," she said quietly, never
taking her eyes off the viewscreen.  "Tom--"

/Evasive pattern gamma three,/ he anticipated even as she spoke the
words.

/Full phasers,/ she ordered Seven.  /Target Matrices Five through
Seventeen./

/Firing./

/Evasive pattern lambda four./

/Target Matrices Thirteen through Twenty-three.  Arm particle
torpedoes.  Fire./

/Matrices Twelve through Seventeen destroyed./

/Arm phasers.  Target Matrices.  Fire./

/Evasive pattern./

/Arm phasers.  Target Matrices.  Fire./

/Evasive pattern./

/Arm--  Look out!/ one of them cried, suddenly aware of the trap
building in the vague voices.  Voyager sheered to the left, narrowly
avoiding the explosion of a jettisoned Matrix Twenty-five.

Seven of Twelve was pissed off.  She gathered her Collective, merging
their minds.  /Phasers.  Firing.  Evasives.  Target.  Torpedoes.
Evade.  Fire.  Evade.  Fire.  Evade.  Fire.  Load all torpedo tubes
and arm all phaser banks.  Target Central Core.  Destroy./

/Destroyed./

She swayed, and this time it had nothing to do with the ship's evasive
manoeuvres.  /Um.../

/Rest,/ two voices said simultaneously, and two pairs of arms were
supporting her as she lapsed into grateful unconsciousness.

                                 =/\=

"Well, this is just great," B'Elanna muttered, glaring at the table.
"Who needs the Borg Queen when we've got our very own Borg Captain
right here?"

"Not now, B'Elanna," Chakotay said quietly.  "Doctor?"

"Don't look at me," the Doctor said lightly.  "As far as I can tell,
they're all perfectly healthy."

"Perfectly healthy *drones*," B'Elanna said.

"B'Elanna!"  Chakotay glared at her for a moment then looked around
the conference table.  "Anybody have any suggestions?"

Silence.  B'Elanna looked up at him.  "If you don't mind my saying
so," she started caustically, and waited for his nod before continuing.
"You could take command of the ship.  We can't trust Janeway to make
the best decisions for us right now.  Hell, for all we know she could
fly us straight back into Borg space and let those voices in her head
assimilate us too!"

"Captain Janeway defended us from those 'voices in her head' during
our last encounter with the Borg," Tuvok reprimanded her.  "Your fear
is irrational, based only on the fact that she was Borg - for less
than thirty-six hours, may I point out."

"She does have a point," Chakotay said.  Everyone turned to look at
him.  "The captain defended us from the Borg, but look how much it
took out of her.  Who's to say that next time she'll be able to hold
up against the Collective?  How many times did Seven turn against us
in her first year on board?  It was difficult enough keeping ourselves
out of trouble then; if the *captain* were to go rogue..."

There was a grim silence as everyone contemplated the possibilities.
"Are you assuming command of Voyager?" Tuvok asked, a challenge in his
voice.

"I didn't say that."  Chakotay looked at the table.  "She hasn't done
anything to risk Voyager, yet.  Neither has Tom.  We've got no grounds
to relieve her of duty.  When she gets out of Sickbay..."  He paused.
"Watch her closely.  Watch them both."

No one looked at anyone else.  Chakotay turned to stare out the
viewport.  "Dismissed."

FIN