DISCLAIMER: Star Trek Voyager and all its characters are the property of Paramount. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Soch - Seven, Kyamo – Beautiful One, Be'nal BangwI – Wife; my love
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
"I must apologies Lt, fitting a turbo-lift into the two decks of the Delta Flyer II, was a not a waste of resources." Seven smirked, while pulling her naked wife further into her.
"Hmm Soch," B'Elanna said sleepily, feeling the effects of post orgasmic bliss. "It was you who introduced me to the joys of turbo-lift sex!"
"Kyamo, who's flying the Flyer?"
"The computer obviously."
Seven started to struggle into her bio-suit.
Lanna looked worried. "Be'nal? BangwI what's the matter?"
"Auto pilot was programmed by Tom, when he was under the influence of his Holographic duplicate!"
B'Elanna gasped at this and started to pull her own clothes on.
Seven cursed in Klingon, as she couldn't get the door open, jammed her assimilation probes into the control panel.
"The encrypted algorithmic lock out is a cross between Borg and Marquis," Seven commented, again impressed at Tom's holo-duplicate's intellectual cunning, far outstripping the original.
"It's going to take me a while to decipher it."
'Warning, planetary orbit decaying, two minutes until atmospheric entry.'
"I've always wondered why Starfleet's Default Computer Voice sounds like Rear Admiral Christine Chapel, the former head of Star Fleet Medical."
"How should I know?!" Seven exclaimed angrily.
B'Elanna was just going to reply, moodily, wondering why her beloved was angry with her, when she noticed the look of concentration on her wife's face, and realised what a stupid comment that was!
"What are you doing?"
"I cannot break the encryption code in time, so I'm trying to access manual helm control; the auto pilot is putting up quite a fight."
It was getting hot and the little ship was being buffeted around substantially.
'Warning, hull temperature exceeding design perimeters.'
"Soch!"
"Going as fast as I can B'Elanna."
The flight smoothed out, and Seven detached herself from the access panel.
"That's all I can do, I would advise us getting in to the crash positions."
The two ladies assumed the crash position on the floor; even though B'Elanna pointed out they should be sitting down in seats.
The Flyer hit the ground, and the two-crew members were tossed around the turbo lift, like two peas in a tin, and everything went black.
When B'Elanna came around the lift was in pitch darkness, she heard a moan from by the side of her.
"BangwI, are you alright?"
"I believe I'm just within acceptable parameters!" Seven joked, to show her wife that she was fine.
The turbo-lift door had come off its guiding rail, so after Seven had forced it open, it was now possible to squeeze out into the Flyer's flight deck, the green glow of Borg emergency lighting illuminating the interior of the lift.
B'Elanna peeked out. She turned round with a panicked look on her face.
"Shit Seven that's another one we've destroyed, Katie's going to kill us!"
The End