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A well developed vocabulary
By ncruuk


"These garments are ineffective and...." Seven paused whilst she searched her memory bank for a word that would convey her displeasure at having to wear the garments in front of her, "...gplartgyth" she enunciated carefully, remembering to add the rising inflection to the 'gy' of the third syllable, finally picking the word that suited her. That it was from the language of species 413, a species with limited distinctiveness that was of no use to the Collective, and whose home world was in the deepest corner of the Gamma Quadrant, far from any space the Federation had explored was, entirely irrelevant. As an adjective, it worked.

"Excuse me?" On hearing the strange noise from the ex-Borg, Kathryn Janeway had stopped what she was doing.

"I was commenting on the clothing I am required to wear," explained Seven coolly, raising an almost impertinent implant at her Captain.

"That noise..." queried Janeway, using her left hand to gesture her question, her right instinctively reaching for the bridge of her nose, in an attempt to stall the headache that could only be brought on by Seven being 'difficult'.

"Was not a noise, I said 'gplartgyth'"

"And that means?" asked Kathryn, resigning herself to having a full conversation on this. It was bad enough that she could swear in 17 languages, but Seven, she had proudly informed Kathryn once that the Borg had assimilated the swear words of over 10,000 dialects, although not all were repeatable by non-aquatic humanoids. Gills provided a certain range of inflection not easily imitated by a conventional human larynx.

"Strangely shaped, brightly coloured garment."

"It does?" It was hard with Seven, you never knew if she was reciting genuine Borg knowledge or involving you in some elaborate hoax.

"Species 413 are a very precise race, their vocabulary is very wide ranging," replied Seven indignantly.

"I see..." And, strangely, Kathryn did see. She thought back to all her mission reports she'd written involving the Ferengi - now, having a single word to describe their brightly coloured inefficient garments, that were so often the wrong size or shape for her to wear (they had always struggled to cope with the fact that she was a female who refused to go nude) would have made the report writing process so much easier...until she had to deliver the report verbally.

"Tell me the news not the weather..." she muttered dryly, noticing the front of her tunic. It wasn't Seven's fault that, in order to get the guttural inflections perfect, a degree of 'hacking' had to be performed - if anything it was probably Kathryn's fault, for standing so close to the blonde.

"I do not follow Captain..." began Seven, rapidly consulting her knowledge of English colloquialisms as she watched Kathryn brush her tunic down and wipe her hand on her uniform.

"Not to worry Seven...so, species 413, local to round here?" Not a fan of being petty, Kathryn mentally kicked herself from bringing up the point, before distracting Seven onto something else.

"No, they are in the Gamma Quadrant, beyond the Dominion Empire. A most unremarkable species..."

"Apart from their vocabulary..."

"Indeed Captain - they are a very talkative species. The Borg found them most....noisy..."

"How inconvenient for them..." countered Janeway, pulling on her own native outdoor clothing, which had been sent up to them for the away team to wear, prompting Seven to actually pout.

"I refuse to wear them, my biosuit and nanoprobes will adapt to the winter climate without problem..."

"But you will hardly blend in Seven..." replied Janeway, in a tone the Borg recognised all too well. It was as good as the Borg's 'Resistance is Futile'...

"Very well...but I will not wear that..." declared Seven, pointing to the remaining garment, the one which she had described as "gplartgyth".

"Seven...." Kathryn's tone held a note of warning, but was accompanied by a tender hand placed on Seven's now wool covered chest, signalling to the blonde that the conversation had switched from professional to personal.

"Yes Kathryn?"

"I thought you wanted to build a snowman with real snow..." began Kathryn, recalling Seven and Naomi's excitement on the holodeck when they'd tried that particular activity.

"Yes, and make a 'snow angel' with you..."

"Then you must wear them..."

"Kathryn..." Reaching the end of her tether, Kathryn snatched up her own 'gplartgyth' garment and snapped them on her head, before saying, in her best Captain's voice (the one they all said 'energise' or 'mark' in),

"For God Sake's Seven, just wear the damn ear muffs!"

Sensing defeat, Seven obediently, if reluctantly, put her fluffy pink ear muffs on her head. Successfully concealing her amusement at how cute her lover looked, and how grateful she was to their hosts that, as a leader, she got demure black ear muffs, Kathryn gestured for Seven to lead the way to the transporter room....this, she had to hope, was something the Doctor got a picture of...

The End

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