The Hideaway
 

Inspired by a challenge idea from KGG. The setting is post Hope and Fear. The story must be told in first person and begins from Seven’s point of view. This story is written for the Backdoor Challenge at the J7Faction Forum. This story is dedicated to one exceptional person; my beta reader BeachBum. Through her tenacity and guidance I’ve begun the project to improve my writing. This project will henceforth be known as the hundred-year plan!

The cold wind bit my face as thick snowflakes fell from the night sky. All around the landscape was frozen and barren trees were trapped in winter’s harsh embrace. Others would have been forced to stop searching long ago but I was driven forward by need; the need to find her before the attackers. If I could not accomplish that it would mean a death sentence for Captain Janeway.

Bitterly frigid temperatures and the rugged terrain did not unduly trouble me. Unlike other humans I hear better, see further and my body temperature sinks much more slowly. Then again I am not completely human. I was once Borg and as much as I abhor my past it is at times useful. It lends me a physical strength and resilience that others simply do not possess. In that moment I was grateful for that strength, the hardiness to keep going and rescue the one individual that meant more to me than she could possibly know.

I saw a darker spot in the snow ahead of me and for a moment wanted to believe it was simply a shadow caused by the lifeless trees, but I knew it wasn’t true. My Borg eyepiece easily identified the stain even in the darkness. Blood. Kathryn’s blood.

"Red. The child you spoke of, the girl. Her favorite color was red."

I remembered saying those words to her two years ago after she had taken me from all that was familiar and forced me to wear human garments. Even through my anger there was something indefinable about her that drew me in, magnetized me. She couldn’t know I was speaking about the fire in her hair under the artificial lights and how the command red of her tunic caused that fire to ignite. She thought only that I was confessing a secret and opening up to her for the first time.

Seeing the red in the snow as I searched for her changed my mind. The crimson stain conjured none of the warm feelings I remembered when I said those words to her. Here there was only the arctic blast of reality forced into me by the implications of what such a stain could mean.

I pushed the heart wrenching thought aside and sensed the others were close behind me, close on Janeway’s heels. The damned Tingwa! They’d been so deceptive in their friendly welcome. Everything progressed rapidly until suddenly a diplomatic meeting became an assassination attempt. All so the Tingwa could get their hands on Voyager. If they seized the Intrepid-class ship they would become a military power in this sector. Chaos had erupted in seconds in that meeting and with her security contingent dead Janeway did the only thing she could. She fled into the forest and the bitter night; the closest available sanctuary that might confound even the determined Tingwa.

I forced my frozen feet forward into the thick snow and found myself praying to a deity in which I had never believed. Please, let her be alive. Please, don’t let me be too late.

Had I been present with the away team this would not have happened. The security team would not have been killed and Captain Janeway would not be fleeing through these alien woods. But I had not been there. I was on the bridge at the aft science station when the call came through, a short, bitten off emergency transmission before the signal was abruptly terminated. It was clear the away team had been attacked but Commander Chakotay insisted on wasting time to put together a fully armed rescue/assault team. I had other ideas.

A simple override of command protocols allowed me to transport to the surface and begin a search of my own. Even in my haste I realized the commander was right about one thing. The terrain called for caution. I had quickly changed into a thick black snowsuit and sturdy boots. A white parka with an insulated hood and thick gloves completed my apparel; it was only as an after thought that I had grabbed the survival pack from the cargo bay before I initiated the site-to-site transport. Now I was slogging through the deep cold, following her footprints that grew ever more faint as it continued to snow.

At the base of a massive tree moonlight glinted off a metallic object and I reached for it in growing fear. Her combadge. It was broken, useless and seemed to me another sign that I was searching in vain to find my captain alive. My hand clenched in anger and I felt the edges bite into my palm. The pain helped to center me and I realized I could never give up. Even if she was dead at least I would be able to bring her home to her beloved ship and crew. After all she had done for me, all she had given me, it was the least I could do. But if the captain were alive she wouldn’t be for much longer. She’d only been wearing her uniform to the negotiations and she would not be able to survive for long in the ice-cold night, injured and without assistance.

"I’m your captain. That means I can’t always be your friend. Understand?"

"No. However, if we should be assimilated our thoughts will become one and I am sure I will understand perfectly."

It was one of the rare times I’d ever seen Janeway look shocked. I enjoyed the expression since the captain rarely showed such an emotion and I was pleased to be the one that generated it.

"A joke, Captain. You, yourself, have encouraged me to use my sense of humor."

"It’s nice to know you’ve taken some of my advice to heart."

It was the first time Janeway acknowledged I had a heart; the first time she said she was my friend. Ironic that such a meaningful moment could occur in an alien brig and cement my half-hearted attraction into relentless devotion.

The searchers were moving closer and I threw off my haze of reverie. Perhaps the cold was affecting me more than I had at first assumed. Unacceptable. I had to find her before it was too late.

Moving swiftly through the trees with all the strength of a Borg-enhanced physique I put distance between us. The snow quieted my passage, but time continued to tick forward. Suddenly I crested a hillock and an image I had dreaded was presented to me at the bottom of the valley. The blood trail had lessened but it led directly to the humanoid figure lying huddled between the trees. I wanted to call out to her and barely stopped the shout from bursting from my lips for fear I would be overheard. I couldn’t risk drawing her attackers to this place.

Careening down the slight incline and stumbling through the drifts, I dropped onto my knees beside her. My hand was trembling when I reached out, afraid of what I would find. She was still warm although much colder than a human should be. I turned her over to find her lips whitened by the cold and eyes that were barely open.

"Seven," she whispered weakly, and I’m sure I did not imagine the relief in her voice.

"I’m here. Do not try to speak, the Tingwa are close behind me."

The front of her tunic was stained and wet and she was shivering from exposure. I lifted the hem of her uniform until the wound was visible although I didn’t know how I could possibly treat her in this environment. Still, I was encouraged by what I saw.

"The injury is severe, but it has stopped bleeding. The doctor will be able to treat you once we return to the ship. For now we must find shelter and a heat source."

I dropped the survival pack into the snow, thankful that I had remembered it at the last moment. There was a Starfleet-issue blanket inside that I wrapped around her before putting the pack on again. Carefully I slipped my arms under her and lifted her from the frozen ground, gratified when she wound her arms around my neck. The cold was intense and her warm breath against my neck caused me to shiver. We moved deeper into the forest toward the mountain peak that seemed so far away. My hope was that as the terrain grew more rugged the Tingwa would fall farther behind.

My stamina quickly waned as I carried her and my arms began to tremble. Where was all of that vaunted Borg strength when I needed it? Stumbling through the snow and hills for hours had already begun to tax my nanoprobes and carrying her now would not prove possible for very long. I adjusted my hold and clasped her tighter against my chest, determined not to let her down. Her head lolled against my shoulder and I realized she had lost consciousness, either from blood loss or from exposure.

I searched the trees ahead of us, adjusting my eyesight with a silent signal sent to my cortical implant. At first there was nothing but the harsh landscape of snow and ice. Boulders were concealed beneath the white powder, offering the promise of pitfalls that would shatter bone and rend flesh. My heart was a runaway shuttle as it pounded in my chest while I considered the climb to the top of that peak. Then I saw it. It was only a suggestion, a gathering of inky blackness in the already darkened night. The wind blew stronger and flung frozen precipitation into my field of vision. I blinked it away and focused on the area again. Whether it was merely a crag in the surface of the mountainside or a deep crevice it was a measure of protection from the elements and the pursuing Tingwa.

By now my feet were frozen blocks of ice. They responded sluggishly to my urge to move toward the shelter, but I insisted and we closed the distance slowly. Surely if I was working this hard and was still so cold the Tingwa were fairing much worse. I tried not to remember they were native to this weather and simply concentrated on making it to the shelter.

Forty minutes later we were close enough for me to see that it was not merely a crevice in the rock face. We had found a small cave. The opening was barely large enough for me to crawl into and even harder to access with the unconscious woman in my arms. In the end I resorted to lifting her a few feet in front of me, crawling forward and moving her again until we were out of the snow. To my surprise the interior of the cave appeared to be on the lee side of the wind. Snow did not blow in behind us and the farther we moved into the shelter the less precipitation covered the ground.

I began to feel warmth against my face as we moved deeper and wondered if my nanoprobes had malfunctioned. Without the biting wind it made sense the cave would be less cold but I could not imagine discovering a heat source so near to the surface on this frozen planet.

When we finally entered the cave proper my breath was coming harshly and I was nearing the limits of my endurance, but what I discovered helped to reenergize me. A small pool of water sat near the rear of the small cavern. At first I thought it to be runoff from melting snow that had found an opening near the surface. I quickly discounted that conclusion since it was too cold for the snow to melt and steam rose in lazy swirls from the surface of the pool. The interior of our small sanctuary was indeed warmer than the surface temperature as well.

Confused but grateful I lifted my precious burden as soon as I had room to stand and moved across the truncated space. Out of the frigid temperatures that had numbed my extremities I could feel my fingers start to come alive again. The tips of my human hand buzzed and burned as the sensation returned and along with it I could feel how very cold my adored captain’s body was. If I did not warm her soon the hypothermia and blood loss would claim her.

I sat Kathryn gently on the sandy floor as near to the small source of heat as possible and pulled the emergency blanket tighter around the petite frame. Fear hammered through me as I briefly considered all I needed to accomplish in minutes to keep her safe. I needed to treat her injuries and warm her. She would be suffering from shock and blood loss, both of which could be fatal, yet the danger behind us was just as grave.

I did not want to leave her but there was no choice. If for some reason the Tingwa did not know of this small niche I couldn’t take the chance that it would be discovered. Even if they did, my course was clear. I had to conceal the entrance. I noticed that she still had not regained consciousness and that worried me most of all. In that moment my heart insisted that I stop and look at her, truly look and see. What I discovered took my breath away. It wasn’t just her classic beauty and the remembered fire in her now dull hair. It was also what I felt when she laughed, the way my heart stuttered at the sound of her husky growl. I’d always known I was devoted to her, would give my life for her. It was only now that I discovered the truth that had been there all along.

I loved her. Such a small word, yet it meant everything.

With the feeling of a net closing about us I still took the time to do something that I had only done once before when saying goodnight to Naomi Wildman. I leaned down and kissed her cheek. Then I stood and whispered, "I will be back soon, Kathryn. Do not give up."

It was only after I left the cave that I realized I had said her given name aloud for the first time.

The wind hit me and I hunched instinctively against it, turning my face slightly away from the ferocity of peppered ice. It was only by chance I saw the Tingwa as he neared the edge of the forest and stepped into the open. Accustomed to the extreme temperatures he wore only a pair of light, doe-soft trousers and ankle high boots. His chest and arms were bare though covered with a thick white pelt. He spotted me immediately.

"There!" he shouted. The wind tore at his voice, but his companions heard him clearly. There were four of them. They did not seem to be affected by the weather and their breath came easily. I was exhausted from fighting the cold and the terrain, but my beloved lay helpless behind me.

Drawing on limited reserves I sent a mental command to my cortical node to release a fresh flood of nanoprobes. They would be the last until I could rest or regenerate.

The Tingwa rushed toward me with crude weapons pointed. I thought they must be phasers of some sort. I would find that I was wrong.

"Where is she?" one demanded. "If she gives us the command codes for Voyager we will let you live."

Another snorted at the comment. "Yes, we’ll let you live. In a penal colony!"

"You lie! I will never tell you where Captain Janeway is!"

They exchanged glances and one of the men shouted, "Do it! If we have this one at least we’ll have something to bargain with."

All moved until they surrounded me. I turned continuously with my hands up in a defensive posture. The wind whipped the hood around my face and obscured my vision, preventing me from seeing who fired the weapon.

Suddenly a large net dropped over me and I smelled the burn of ozone just before it contacted my body. Electricity caused me to jerk uncontrollably and fire surged through my veins. The pain took my breath and drove me to my knees before I fell over to one side. The charge didn’t last long, but would have rendered another humanoid unconscious. Apparently that was the result they expected as well.

"Pick her up," the leader shouted, "and lets get back to the hall. Janeway won’t survive out here anyway; you saw the blood in the snow. We’ll use this one to get them to give us the command codes."

When the first one touched me it was all the opportunity I needed. Adrenaline flooded my system and the nanoprobes I’d recently released helped me shake off the effects of the electrical charge. I surged to my feet and grabbed two by their hair, smashing their faces together in a satisfying crunch. They dropped wordlessly to the white ground. Another leapt onto my back and clung to the parka. For the moment I could not reach him so I concentrated on the final Tingwa rushing toward me. Without remorse I grabbed his neck with my Borg enhanced left hand and crushed his windpipe. Kicking and gasping wetly he dropped to the ground, thrashing as the life quickly drained from his body.

The final attacker reached around the hood in an attempt to gouge out my eyes. When he did I grabbed his hand and pulled him from my back. I turned to face him and could see the knowledge of his own death in his eyes. He did not seem to care, but grimaced in anger and leveled another net weapon preparing to fire. He never got the chance. I threw him twenty feet through the air and into a thick tree trunk. Impaled on a jutting branch, I knew he was dead instantly.