MAIN DISCLAIMER: See Prologue
Seven awoke the next morning to find herself draped all over the Intendant. As soon as she fully realized her position, she was quick to move off the Klingon.
"Morning, my pet. Did you enjoy sleeping on your very own private pillow?" Torres asked amused, making it clear that the Intendant had been awake for some time.
In fact, she had been awake for more than half an hour. She had awakened to find that the slave had crawled even closer in her sleep until she had been laying half on top of the Intendant. Torres' first reaction was a trace of panic.
For a moment, she had felt trapped under the weight of the slave. A weight that was more than the blonde's slim figure would lead one to assume. But, at almost the same moment, Torres had realized that the blonde was still asleep and she figured that since she had told the slave to sleep in the bed, she could not hold it against the blonde that the woman had moved in her sleep.
After coming to that conclusion, Torres had figured it was time to wake the slave so that they could get up. That's what she normally did, wake up and get up in an instance. But this had been the first time that somebody had been with her through the night, the first time anybody but herself had slept in her bed.
On those few occasions she actually had sex in her own bed, she had always thrown the other person out after all was done. Sometimes being a Klingon was convenient. With one-night stands, it was almost expected to throw the other person out afterwards. So she had taken a moment to get used to somebody sleeping on top of her, holding her in a secure embrace. Torres had come to the conclusion that she actually liked it and so she had decided to enjoy the feeling for some time longer.
"I am sorry, mistress."
"Don't be," Torres said with a smile, and then quickly decided to just leave it at that, "Now it is time to get going, replicate my uniform. And I don't want to see you in that bio-suit anymore for the time being. Pick one of the other outfits I selected. I told your Doctor to have at least five of those new bio-suit designs ready by this afternoon, so today will simply be one of the days that you won't wear a bio-suit."
Seven got out of the bed to do as she was told and realized that both, the Intendant's uniform and her own bio- suit, were in the bathroom once again, "Mistress?"
"Can I retrieve the clothing we were wearing yesterday?"
"Why..." Torres started to ask, but then realized that she had told the slave to ask permission if she wanted to go into a room without the Intendant, "Yes, go get them." Torres got out of bed herself and walked to the replicator where she waited for Seven's return, "I changed my mind. From now on, I will choose what you will wear. Ok, let's see, two days a bio-suit and the third day something else, is that doable without you having to change your regeneration and maintenance cycle?"
"Yes, mistress. I believe so."
"I remembered that I never answered your question last night." Seven said while she took the decorations off Torres' uniform before replicating a new uniform, "I believe that two weeks without regenerating and maintenance is feasible if I wear a bio-suit each day, and each night get the amount of sleep I had last night."
"Sleeping did you well then?" Torres asked, remembering that it had been the first night the blonde had slept since being six years old.
"Yes. I feel that it regenerated my energy to a certain degree. Not enough that I would not have to regenerate anymore, but I think sleeping would make the occasional pronged time, of up to two or three weeks, without regenerating possible."
"That's good to know," The Intendant stated. "On occasion, I will have to be away from this ship or my home for a couple of days. It's good to know that I don't have to worry about you not being able to regenerate."
'Worry?' Torres thought, 'Did you just say 'worry'? She is a damn slave, Torres. You don't worry about slaves. Get a grip already.'
After Seven had replicated the uniform, Torres decided on what the blonde should wear. She settled for a light blue catsuit.
Torres took her uniform and started to dress while the slave did the same as soon as the catsuit was replicated, "I was thinking of having one of those alcoves installed in my office, since it's the room most rarely used, and one at my home. Is that possible?"
Seven tugged at a sleeve of the catsuit to straightened out a fold and looked down at the catsuit she was wearing. It was a snug, but not too tight a fit, clinging to her curves in a very seductive way. It was certainly a lot more revealing than her bio-suits had ever been. But it still was more covering than most of the bathing suits she had seen some of the crew wear on shore leave or on the holodeck parties she had been ordered to attend. It was just that the design of it made it look a lot more daring, certainly not like an innocent bathing suit. She decided that... she liked it. She looked to the Intendant and saw her looking back with a very approving look in her eyes.
"Yes, mistress. Aside from their bulky form, the alcoves are relatively easy to dismantle and assemble... if one knows what they are doing. Since Borg technology is not known to your engineers, I would suggest letting some of the Voyager crew do this job."
"I was thinking of doing that," Torres said while she straightened out her uniform. In regards to clothing, the other Intendants had it a lot better than the Klingon Intendant; they could wear whatever they desired. But from the Klingon Intendant it was expected that she walk around in a battle uniform every day. Impression was everything. The Klingon Intendant always had to look as if she was longing for a fight. 'At least it makes my choice of clothing easy,' Torres thought for the thousandth time, "Who of your crew would be best suited for doing that?"
"B'Elanna Torres, Harry Kim, and I are the only ones that have in-depth knowledge of Borg technology."
Torres finished with her uniform and took a step back to be able to take in the blonde fully. She definitely liked what she saw. The low v-shaped décolleté of the catsuit stopped only a fraction above the blonde's belly button and showed off the valley between the blonde's breasts, including quite a bit of the sides of those breasts. The fabric only started about two fingers width from the blonde's nipples, covering those and the rest of the ample breasts. The snug fit of the catsuit showed off every shapely form on that exquisite body and three large holes on the leg showed off the side of those long legs.
"Mmmh, turn around," The slave did as she was told and Torres took in how the blonde looked from behind, "Walk to the living room, slowly," The blonde once again did as she was told and as Torres had suspected, the catsuit showed off even more of the erotic sway of those hips, and the movement of that delicious backside.
"Kahless help me, I think I have to walk behind YOU from now on," Torres said before following the slave into the other room. 'Shapely, exquisite, erotic, delicious?' Torres thought while entering the other room, 'Well, she is all of that. And I don't want to use her? What in all damnation is wrong with me?'
Torres sat down at the table before addressing the blonde again, "Get me breakfast, program nineteen and come sit beside me at the table. After we are done eating, we will go over some of the information in that computer unit and I will tell you whether or not you should tell me about it in the future."
"Yes, mistress," Seven said while walking to the replicator.
For four hours after breakfast, Seven had sat beside the Intendant going over boring information. Basically it all came down to the fact that Torres only wanted to know if something changed more than a certain margin; the only exception being the security reports. Torres would read all of those, but only when she felt like it. Seven was to inform the Intendant when there was something of which Seven thought that the Intendant should know it immediately.
Seven began to notice that as more time went by, the more the Intendant seemed to be distracted by something. Finally after seeing the Intendant look at her in a way she knew well from how some people often looked at her onboard Voyager, Seven understood that the Intendant was indeed distracted by something. She was distracted by Seven herself.
Seven looked to the side some more and took a closer look at the Intendant. Now that she was looking for it, she could see the clear signs that the Intendant was aroused. Seven was not sure what to do. She knew that it was now her task to see to the Intendant's every need, she had committed herself to that to save Voyager and its crew. But the Intendant had not told her to do anything else but read the information in front of her.
"What?" Torres asked when she saw that the slave was looking at her intensively.
Seven knew that now was the time to make her choice. The Intendant would be either upset because Seven had done something without being told, or the Intendant would be very happy. Going over the choice again, Seven realized that it really wasn't a choice; she was thinking about two outcomes, which meant that she really already had made her choice. Seven moved out of her chair and knelt down beside Torres, "Mistress, may I serve you?"
It took Torres a few seconds to understand what her slave was talking about. She moved her chair back and turned until she was facing the blonde. Seven came a little closer and without really realizing it, Torres opened her legs to let her slave sit between them, "You don't have to offer that, a body slave is only required to service her master if the master initiates the contact."
"I am your body slave, am I not?"
"I thought we had that already covered?"
Seven made quick work from opening the Intendant's uniform vest. She was encouraged by the fact that the Intendant had not actually told her to stop, "Is it not one of the body slave's tasks to please her master? Do you not want me to please you?"
"That's not the point. The point is that I didn't initiate anything, and therefore you don't have to do this."
Seven moved her hands under the thin undershirt that covered Torres' body and started slow stroking caresses of the Intendant's stomach before slowly moving up, "I do not HAVE to do this. But, mistress, what if I WANT to do this?"
"Um," Torres felt how warm hands started to move softly over her breasts and suddenly taking the slave up on her offer didn't sound that bad at all.
It was a little more that two hours later before Torres and Seven left the Intendant's quarters. After Seven had seen to the Intendant's needs, they had taken a quick bath and dressed again. Though the bath was really only for Torres since, just as the time before, it had only been about the Intendant. Seven had pleasured the Intendant without receiving anything in return. Well, that wasn't quite true, this time the Intendant had thanked her afterwards. It had only been a little 'thank you,' but Seven had seen it as a reward.
'Thank you?' Torres thought while she slowly moved through the corridors with the slave by her side, 'You thanked her for her services? You should get your head examined.'
Torres looked to her side and took in her slave, finally curiosity won out, "Why did you do that?"
"Mistress?" Seven asked, not expecting the question.
"I asked, 'why you did that?'" Torres repeated while she stopped walking, "Body slaves are used for sexual satisfaction, I repeat, used. They don't run around pleasing their masters out of their own free will unless they can gain something from it."
"Believe me, mistress. I did not do that to gain anything from it, save knowing that I pleased you."
"Then why did you?" Torres repeated while she once again started to walk slowly down the corridor.
"I must say that I am not absolutely certain. Maybe it is because I did it, as you said, of my own free will. I made the choice, you did not order me to do so; and also because I was in error."
"In error about what?"
"When you informed me the day before yesterday that one of my tasks was to please you, I said that I would do it, but that you could not make me enjoy it."
They moved into the turbolift and Torres ordered the lift to the 'Servants deck' before addressing the slave again, "Are you telling me that you like that you have to serve me?"
"For the time being, I accept you as my mistress, and f..."
"For the time being?" Torres interrupted.
"Yes, mistress, depending on how you handle the Voyager crew, I might still be forced to kill you."
"I... see," Torres said before starting to grin at the answer, "Go on, you were explaining yourself."
"As I said, for the time being, I accept you as my mistress. I know how slaves are most commonly treated and therefore I know that your behavior towards me is nothing I can complain about. Since I am a slave here, I can even say that you treat me extraordinarily well. I do not hate or resent you and you are a very attractive woman. For now, I have no problem with servicing you, as I found it to actually be a very enjoyable task."
"You, my dear pet, are absolutely nuts."
The turbolift stopped and they got out. They started moving through another long corridor, a statement to the true colossal size of the Intendant's ship.
"Does that mean that from now on I am not allowed to please you unless you initiated it?"
Torres laughed, "Well, I wouldn't go that far."
A couple of turns later, they entered a short corridor that had no doors on the sides, but a little bit further down there were two force fields that were guarded by six Klingons. Seven recognized the area as the one the Doctor had described and now that she was about to meet the rest of the Voyager crew she suddenly didn't feel all that secure anymore about the catsuit she was wearing.
As if sensing her slave's insecurity, Torres spoke up, "You are about to meet some Klingon guards. Remember that you are my body slave, so act like it. You know what that means don't you?"
"Yes, mistress. You own me, but I could command them, if I wanted."
"Well, yes, that too," Torres said amused, "But what I meant is that I can command you to do anything and they can command you to do nothing."
"I remember, mistress. And you did already test me on that by sending General Martok to get me yesterday."
"That I did, but that was Martok, somebody who will accept almost anything from me. But these are nothing more that guards, soldiers, sometimes they need to be convinced."
"Yes, mistress," Seven noticed that the Intendant had almost stopped walking; it was clear that she didn't want the guards to overhear them and therefore was staying out of their earshot.
"What's wrong?" Torres asked. She could sense that something was troubling her slave.
"It is irrelevant, mistress."
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"
"It is just that... to them I will be somebody else now. I will no longer be the person I was while I was working with them."
"And you are not. But what is the problem with that?" By now, Torres had stopped completely and she could see the guards looking in her direction. But one look from her made them all realize that it would be better for them to keep their eyes on the prisoners on the other side of the force field.
"Mistress, I do not want them to think less of me."
'I can't believe I'm doing this,' Torres thought while she was thinking of a way to deal with her slave, "Do you feel less?"
"No, mistress. But some of those people are my friends, I would like to think. How they think of me is important to me."
"Well, it seems to me that you have two choices," Torres said, cutting to the chase, "Either you go in there as the poor slave that is so viciously abused, and has to suffer soooo much. Or you go in there as what you are."
"You, my dear pet, are right now the most powerful human inside Coalition space. Yes, you are still a slave, but no human, or anyone from the other six slave races outranks you. I'm sure that the slaves that were put in with your crew heard your Doctor tell about you now being my body slave. And I'm just as sure that they told your crew what that means.
"They don't know the true extent of the power I gave you, and I now order you not to tell them either. But as soon as you walk in there, those people, all hundred and forty of them, will know that you are their only hope. You, my pet, have their fate in your hands, and they know it. So you go in there and act like what you are. You are my body slave, nothing more, and nothing less. Be proud of what you are, for in this universe, it is more than any other human is."
"Thank you, mistress."
"What are you thanking me for now?" Torres asked while she started to walk down the corridor again.
"For what you just s..."
"You should really stop thanking me if I haven't done anything for you."
"Yes, mistress," Seven said a lot more secure. The Intendant's little speech had worked wonders for Seven, 'I am the Intendant's body slave, nothing more, nothing less. What others think is irrelevant.'
Torres stepped up to the guards and gave the first one a backhanded slap across the face when she saw that he was looking over her shoulder at the slave, "You better listen very carefully and spread the news once I'm gone so that others don't make the mistake you just made," Without turning around, Torres ordered a short, 'Here.'
Knowing that the command was meant for her, Seven made the few steps to the Intendant's side.
Torres pointed to her shield on the slave's catsuit, "See this? She is my body slave, treat her as such or answer to me. I must say that I really like my little vixen here, so I am very protective of her. You got me?"
"Yes, Intendant," The Klingons all said almost simultaneously.
"Good, I expect that I don't have to give this little speech ever again. But if I do have to, one of you will die for each time I have to repeat it. Got me?"
"Yes, Intendant," The commander of the guards spoke this time alone, but still for all his men.
"Alright, I'm going in," Torres hadn't even finished speaking and the guards were suddenly scrambling to retrieve all kinds of weapons. By the time she stepped up to the first force field, four heavily armed guards were ready to accompany her, disruptor rifles ready to fire. Two were standing at Torres' left side, and two were standing at her slave's right side, including the blonde in the armed square, "Good," She said with approval. Even though her soldiers never had to deal with a body slave before, they still knew how to treat one.
Seven wanted to ask why she was protected too, but knew that she could not question the Intendant while the guards were present. And while the first force field was deactivated, Seven realized the answer. A body slave could be a very tempting target for an attack. A target for people that didn't dare to attack the Intendant herself, but wanted to send a message that they could get close to the Intendant if they wanted to.
"We got company," Ensign Jenkins said while she came into the room where the senior staff was holding what had become their daily meeting, "It's Seven and B'Elanna."
"B'Elanna?" Janeway asked slightly confused while turning around to the blonde woman that normally worked in anthropology.
"Well, their B'Elanna."
"The Intendant, you mean," Janeway clarified while she and the senior staff were already leaving the room.
By the time the second force field was deactivated and Seven and the Intendant had come closer, the broad corridor had filled with at least fifty people, and more looked out from almost every door in the corridor, making sure to stay clear of the Klingon guards accompanying the two women. There wasn't a pair of eyes amongst them that didn't drift to Seven and take in her new wardrobe. One of the slaves that was no part of the Voyager crew, and really should have known better, let out a soft whistle. A split second later, one of the guards slammed the butt of his disruptor rifle into the man's face, knocking out all of the man's front teeth.
"Idiot," One of the other slaves mumbled, looking at the slave that was now sitting on the floor clamping a hand in front of his mouth.
Torres stepped closer to the slave that had just spoken, "Is he good at his job?"
The slave knew the Intendant was talking about the man beside him, who was slowly trying to get to his feet again. Making sure to keep his eyes lowered, he softly answered, "Good enough to be called an Engineering slave, Intendant."
"Alright," Torres turned to one of the guards, "Give me your rifle."
Seven suspected what the Intendant was about to do and was about to say something when the Intendant's words stopped her.
"Don't... even... think... about... it, slave."
Torres took the rifle from the guard and stepped up to the man who was by now standing, but still bleeding heavily from his mouth. She pointed the rifle at the man's chest and looked him straight in the eyes, seeing the building terror in them.
"No, please Intendant," The man pleaded only half understandable because of his missing teeth while shaking his head and holding his hands in front of him. "Please, Intendant, please, I beg of you, please!"
Keeping her eyes locked on his, Torres slowly pulled the trigger, twice. With the power of a disrupter rifle being fired at the man twice from such short distance, a plangent smell of scourged human flesh soon started to fill the corridor from the collapsed corpse.
Torres fired the rifle at the dead man a third time just for good measures and handed the rifle back to the guard before walking down the corridor as if nothing happened. She noticed that her slave was not at her side and she assumed that the blonde was still looking at the dead man, "Come."
Seven did as she was told and took her place at the Intendant's side.
"Save it for later," Torres said so soft that the guards wouldn't hear her, "Act like what you are, always. No matter if I do something you despise, you are mine. Don't make me have to punish you in public."
Seven looked to the guard and could see that they were looking differently at her from only a few seconds before. As if they were not sure if she truly was worthy of being the Intendant's body slave, a slave that was supposed to be totally broken and as close as a slave could be to being totally devoted to her master. She knew that in their eyes she hadn't acted like it. Knowing that at this point what the Klingon guards thought of her was more important than what the Voyager crew thought, Seven sank to her knees in the corridor full of Voyager crew, not more that two body lengths away from the senior staff.
Seeing what her slave was doing, Torres turned towards the blonde, being more than a little surprised.
Seven lowered her eyes and spoke in a clear voice that all around her could hear, "I am sorry, mistress. I am awaiting your punishment."
Torres stepped closer and patted the blonde softly on her head, "It was a understandable reaction for somebody who is only a slave for three days," Torres said to remind her guards of that fact, "I will forgive you, this time. Don't let it happen again."
Seven took the Intendant's hand and placed a kiss on it, "Thank you, mistress. It will not happen again. Thank you for forgiving me."
Torres took hold of the slave's hand that was holding hers, and helped the slave to stand, sending another clear message to her guards, "Come, my pet."
They turned around to see the entire Voyager senior staff, save the sick Klingon, standing in the middle of the corridor watching them and the scene with open contempt. But Torres simply didn't care, and Seven cared more about the fact that Klingon guards were once again clearly also protecting her together with the Intendant.
"Move." Fortunately, the senior staff was smart enough to follow the one word command and move aside. "Bring him," Torres said more as in an afterthought while pointing at the doctor.
Torres, knowing where the sickbay was in the cellblock, strolled in that direction. She liked the way the crowd of slaves parted for her, showing her that the Voyager slaves were at least smart enough to have a healthy sense of self preservation.
"What's going on out there?" The voice of Voyager's B'Elanna Torres was weak but clearly heard once they entered the sickbay.
The Doctor quickly moved to B'Elanna's bed to prevent her from trying to get out of it. "Nothing that needs to concern you," The Doctor said while restraining B'Elanna by putting his hand against her upper body.
Seven saw that nobody else was in the room. That meant that the others had healed enough to leave sickbay, at least she hoped that they had healed. She looked to the Intendant and saw the little nod. It was all the permission she needed. She moved to the side of B'Elanna's bed and helped the Doctor to calm the Klingon down, "Please, stay calm, B'Elanna."
B'Elanna stopped struggling and looked at Seven, only to take a second, longer look at her, "What the... Seven, I'm glad you are ok. The Doctor told me some of what happened in the last few days. But he thinks that I don't know that he is keeping half for himself. How are you? The Doctor only told me that you were kept somewhere else."
"You asked about me?" Seven asked with a small smile.
"Of course not," B'Elanna said with a fake scowl, looking away slightly. Because of this, she saw that there were other people in the room and that one of them was herself, "The Doctor told me that I was saved by this universe's B'Elanna, but actually seeing you is so weird... Thank you."
"For what?" Torres asked while she came closer and stood besides Seven.
"For saving me," B'Elanna clarified.
Torres lifted her hand and softly stoked the side of Seven's breast. "You shouldn't thank me; I only donated some cells and gave permission for you to be operated on in the main sickbay. You should thank my body slave here. She worked reeeeally hard and as a reward to her I did what I did."
It took B'Elanna's drugged mind a moment to put all the pieces together. The Doctor saying that Seven was kept somewhere else, the clothing Seven was wearing now, the way her counterpart was touching Seven, the words 'body slave' and 'worked really hard.' Suddenly she felt sick to her stomach, more than she already had been, and managed only just in time to lean over the bed before loosing the little bit of food the Doctor had forced her to eat.
The Intendant laughed at the reaction and walked out of the room, "Doctor, come, we need to talk about clothing for my pet."
The Doctor wanted to make sure that B'Elanna was alright, but he knew that he had to do what the Intendant had told him. The Intendant, the Doctor, and two of the guards left, leaving two guards in the room with Seven and B'Elanna.
Seven looked around the room and saw that there was no replicator in it. Probably to prevent patients from replicating something they were not allowed to have. She did however see a small table with a pitcher of water and a few glasses. She filled a glass with water and took it back to B'Elanna's bed, also taking along one of the small towels on the table.
Seven used a towel to clean B'Elanna's face before handing her the glass, "Drink."
"Seven, I..." B'Elanna stopped talking when Seven lifted her hand slightly. In a way B'Elanna was glad that Seven had stopped her since she didn't really know what she could say. But soon that feeling made room for surprise when she saw Seven turn to the Klingon guards.
"What?!" One of the guards asked, "We can't leave you alone here. The Intendant would kill us."
"Did the Intendant give you an order to stay in here?"
"No but it is common practice to..."
"The Intendant might not have given you an order, but I have; Leave, now."
After another moment of hesitation and looking at each other, the guards turned around and left the room.
Seven went back to B'Elanna's bed and saw that the Klingon didn't look her in the eyes anymore, "You are ashamed of me," Seven stated while she took the glass out of the Klingon's hands.
That made B'Elanna look at Seven, "What? No, no Seven, don't think that. I am not ashamed of you, I am ashamed of ME. Of what you have to suffer through because of me, by somebody that is basically me."
"Who said that I am suffering?" Seven asked.
"What do you mean? I know what she was insinuating. You had to have sex with her to save me."
Seven leaned a little closer to B'Elanna, "That is correct, but that does not mean that I am suffering. I found it to be a task I enjoy performing. I pleased the Intendant less than one hour ago, but it was a contact that I initiated."
"What?" Was all that the Klingon could say.
"I accepted the temporary situation for what it is, B'Elanna. It is much easier to work from that position than it is if one only stays in a state of denial. The Intendant is a very attractive woman that treats me very well, considering that I am a slave. Pleasing her certainly is no hardship."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this. Seven, she is using you, and it's my fault!"
"B'Elanna, I have been used my entire life, that is nothing new to me. And it is not your fault. Yes, the Intendant saved your life as a reward to me because she liked my services. But, B'Elanna, even if you would have stayed healthy, she would have still picked me to be her body slave, I would still have had to please her."
"B'Elanna, we do not have unlimited time. I am now going to tell you something and you are going to believe me. Can we do it like that for one time, without fighting or discussing it?"
"Alright," B'Elanna said reluctantly.
"I am comfortable with this situation, I am not misused in my view, and I am well taken care of. Can you believe this?"
"I still don't understand it, Seven. But I know you wouldn't lie to me like this, yes, I believe you."
"I am glad to hear it," Seven said with a small smile, "Besides, being the Intendant's body slave does have certain advantages." Seven wondered what she could tell B'Elanna, remembering that the Intendant had ordered her not to reveal what kind of power she truly had, "Did you just see me order the guards to leave?"
"In this universe, humans have been slaves for the last one and a half centuries. How many slaves do you believe are there that can give orders to Klingon guards?"
B'Elanna formed her mouth as if saying 'oh' and nodded her head slightly in understanding.
"There are several slaves here that are not part of the Voyager crew, ask one of them to tell you more about the body slaves and its standings."
"I will," B'Elanna promised.
"I have to go now, before the Intendant becomes impatient."
B'Elanna grabbed Seven's arm and held her close, "I do believe what you just told me about you being ok. But despite that, I still owe you an honor debt from now on."
"Very well," Seven agreed with a sigh before realizing how she could make B'Elanna feel better about the situation, "I accept you honor debt. And I demand that you fulfill it now."
"Name it, anything."
Seven took the hand that was holding her arm and placed it between her own two hands, "First promise me, on your honor that the conversation I am having with you in this room will never leave it. You will not tell anyone about it. Not even when the Captain orders you to. Promising me this is part of the payment of your honor debt."
"I promise, on my life."
"B'Elanna, a master slave is appointed to oversee the repairs of Voyager, repairs that will be done by the crew."
"The Doctor told me that somebody had said that some 'master slave' would more than likely be soon placed with us to oversee us," B'Elanna said, to show that she knew what Seven was talking about.
"Indeed. B'Elanna, the name of the master slave that has been appointed is Annika Hansen."
"Annika Hansen? Surely you don't mean..."
"Yes, it is my counterpart in this universe. I ask of you, take care of her. Be a friend to her, if possible, if not, than just take care of her. But, B'Elanna, if it is possible for you to be her friend, do not waste the time to admit it like we did. If you truly want to even your honor debt with me, this is the price I am asking."
"I promise. On my life and on my honor," B'Elanna said solemnly before repeating, "Annika Hansen. The chances of meeting my counterpart here were already phenomenal. But the chances of your counterpart also being assigned to Voyager are... impossible."
"Unless she was assigned by somebody who actually knows who Annika Hansen is," Seven said, knowing that B'Elanna would soon figure out what she meant, "I have to go now, be well B'Elanna."
"The same to you," Seven was almost at the door when B'Elanna spoke again, "And Seven?"
"Thank you for being my friend."
"Thank you for being mine," Seven said softly with a broad smile before turning around again.
"Oh, and Seven?"
Seven turned around once again, "Yes?"
"I can't let you walk out of here without saying it."
"Damn, you look hot."
Now Seven actually laughed, "Thank you. I must say that I like this better than my bio-suits. But do not tell the Captain this, I do not think she approves. Be well."
B'Elanna watched Seven leave the room and her mind drifted back to the news that Annika Hansen would join the Voyager crew. She wondered about what Seven had said. That Annika Hansen could only be appointed to join the crew if somebody had known who she was.
Who could have appointed the woman? Only somebody of Voyager itself would know what Annika Hansen would mean to the crew. To anybody else she would be nothing more than... a master slave. But everybody from the Voyager crew was locked up in the cellblock.
So who could possible have access to a place where one could appoint master slaves. It had to be somebody outside the cellblock. But that was impossible. The only one from the Voyager crew outside of the cellblock was...
"I'll be damned!"
The only one from the Voyager crew outside the cellblock was a certain blonde that could order Klingon guards around.
But then B'Elanna remembered something else. She had promised Seven on her honor that she would tell nobody what had happened in the room. Not even when the Captain would order it. Knowing that she had to keep Seven's secret, B'Elanna wondered why Seven wanted it to be a secret. But what ever the reason was, she would honor her promise to Seven.
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