The BLTS Archive - Lonely Hearts:
All Alone
by Lone Templar (eric_prenovost@hotmail.com)

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Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and all who sail in her belong to
Paramount/Viacom and no infringement of copyright/trade marks is
intended. This story includes same sex relationships between women. If
you are offended by this or it is illegal where you live or you are
underage then please read no further.

Archiving: Please ask first.

Constructive feedback welcome.

Any feedback or other comments should be sent.

15 Dec 2002

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Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres cursed loudly as she was awoken from her
hard earned slumber by the chime of the door. A combination of Klingon
and Human curses, some of which were her own dubious invention,
continued to spew forth from her tightened lips as she glared at the
door in question. It wasn't surprising that she had found herself
awakening on the couch. It seemed that most nights she just lacked the
energy to undress and make her way to the bedroom when she finished
her long shift in engineering. Last night was no exception, but the
norm. Leaving only when ordered to by the Captain, the fiery Klingon
hybrid had stomped back to her quarters in a foul mood. Her sometimes
boyfriend, Ensign Tom Paris, was once again absent. Finding herself
much too tired to even query the computer for his location, she had
thrown herself down onto the couch in question and brooded until her
exhausted body had given up the fight to retain consciousness. A quick
glance at the chronometer revealed that she had only been sleeping for
four hours, and the brunette had retained her foul mood from the night
before.

"Enter!" B'Elanna shouted as she crossed her arms over her breasts and
continued to glare at the door, fully prepared to give whoever had the
stupidity to interrupt her sleep a full measure of her temper. Her
mood did not improve when the tall blonde stepped through the
threshold to walk imperiously over to stand in front of her. "What do
you want?" The Klingon snapped angrily.

Seven of Nine, former Borg drone, stood regally in front of the couch.
Her long, slender arms where clasped securely behind her back while
her feet where planted securely on top of high-heeled shoes spread
just under shoulder-width apart. The dim light caused her form-fitting
silver bio-suit to shimmer ever so slightly showing off a form that
had most, if not all, the women on board ship green with jealousy.
Full, rounded breasts jutted out from her slender and shapely form
that jiggled just enough to draw the eye. A firm but flat belly
extended down below them that showed how fit the ex-drone actually
was. Hips and thighs formed a symphony of form and function that
revealed a tight rear end and legs that seemed to go on forever. Even
the most jaded person would admit that the blonde woman was the
epitome of human beauty and that her body practically screamed out
with pent up sexual energy. Only the impassive face decorated with a
small starburst on her right cheek and arched implant over her left
eye took anything away from the view.

B'Elanna Torres was no different from any of the other people on board
the small courier that they were calling home these days. The brunette
was proud of her body, but no matter how hard she worked out, it just
couldn't compare to the form that was standing in front of her. Sexual
attraction, jealousy, and hatred of the Borg warred with each other
and did nothing to dispel the bad mood that the Klingon found herself
in. She could feel her adrenaline levels start to raise as her body
automatically prepared itself for a fight. Dense muscles bunched and
quivered in readiness as the dark skinned woman glared at the blonde
and pursed her lips in anticipation of the coming confrontation.

"I require your assistance, Lieutenant." The blonde stated
impassively, her voice devoid of all emotion. Seven was not unaware of
the Klingon's state at the moment, and she was trying desperately to
maintain a professional attitude in the hopes of escaping yet another
verbal confrontation with the fiery woman.

"You woke me up because you need my help?" B'Elanna hissed angrily.
Her body tensed with rage as she slowly stood up to face the other
woman, her hands clenching into fists at her side. There was only two
feet between the women and the half-Klingon narrowed her eyes as she
stared into a pair of bright blue ones.

Seven took a moment to organize her thoughts before she began to
speak. "I require you assistance in escaping from Voyager,
Lieutenant." She stated calmly. "The Captain has refused my request
despite Commander Chakotay's help in this matter. I feel that I have
no choice but to seek an outside source of assistance. Knowing your
hatred for me, I felt that you would make an ideal conspirator."

It took a moment before the blonde's words became comprehensible, but
when they did, the brunette was shocked. "You want to leave? Why?"

Seven arched her eyebrow in response. "Because I do not wish to adapt
to this collective any longer."

The brunette sat down on the couch again as she continued to stare at
the other woman in shock. "I don't understand."

"It is quite simple, Lieutenant." Seven began. "The crew of Voyager
hate and fear me. The only two people who have come anywhere close to
accepting me is a child who does not know enough to fear the Borg and
a woman who wishes to mold me into someone I do not wish to be. The
only other interactions that I have had have either been
confrontational or to gain my assistance in copulation. I find this
situation unacceptable. After carefully considering all of my options,
I am left with only two viable alternatives to living this way. The
first alternative is to assimilate everyone on board Voyager. The
second alternative is to escape from my imprisonment and return ho-
return to the collective."

B'Elanna almost missed the Freudian slip at the end of the blonde's
statement, but she did catch it. "What did you almost say, Seven?" She
asked curiously. "You said something and changed your mind. What was
it?"

The tall blonde sighed softly and closed her eyes before she replied.
"I wish to return home, Lieutenant. I wish to become a drone where I
will no longer experience fear and hatred like I do on this ship. I am
tired of being a prisoner. I am tired of following rules that are
illogical. I am tired of listening to others and not understanding
what they are trying to say. I am tired of embarrassing myself
whenever I do say something. I am tired of being laughed at and
ridiculed. I. I want to go home." The last was barely audible as the
ex-drone trailed off into a whisper. Gone was the proud stance that
she had carefully cultivated. Now the bowed shoulders shouted her
defeat to the world at large.

"Why did you come to me?" B'Elanna asked softly, stunned at the
admission she had just heard. She was unprepared to see the watery,
ice blue eyes open and focus on her own.

"Because you hate me the most, Lieutenant. You will rejoice when I am
gone." Seven whispered quietly. A single tear escaped from her still
human right eye and made it's way slowly down a flawless cheek to pool
on her chin. Ignoring the tear, the blonde blinked rapidly to clear
her eye as she studied the other woman, hoping for a favorable
reaction.

"I don't know what to say." B'Elanna whispered as she looked down at
her own clasped hands in her lap.

"Help me to escape, Lieutenant." Seven whispered in reply. "Please."

"I'm not sure that I can." The Klingon gently stated.

"I now understand another concept that had escaped me." The young
woman forced out past the uncomfortable lump in her throat. Without
another word, the lithe woman slowly sank to her knees and laid her
hands of the brunette's knees. "I am begging for you assistance,
Lieutenant. Please help me."

"Why, Seven? Why is this so important to you? Why do you want to
rejoin the collective?" The brunette asked quietly. Her every
conception about the other woman was being challenged. The ex-drone
was showing more emotion than the Klingon had ever seen her display
before. The once proud and arrogant woman was now on her knees begging
for her help to become that which B'Elanna feared more than anything
in the universe; to become an emotionless drone.

"Lieutenant, could you exist as a slave?" Seven choked out hoarsely.
"Could you continue to exist amidst the hatred and contempt?"

Without another word, the blonde woman bowed her head and laid it ever
so gently on the knees in front of her. B'Elanna didn't even have to
think about it, but she raised her hand and gently stroked the head of
the now sobbing woman. Time seemed to have lost all meaning for the
pair of them as the one cried and the other absently petted the head
of the other. B'Elanna didn't know how long they spent this way, and
quite frankly she didn't really care. She was looking back on her
actions since the ex-drone had come onboard and didn't like what she
saw. Every hesitant attempt at reaching out on the part of the blonde
was met with anger, hatred, and humiliation, and B'Elanna remembered
all to well some of the times she had participated herself.

"I was once one of billions. My thoughts were theirs and theirs mine.
I was part of something greater than myself. Now there is no one to
share my thoughts with. Now I am alone. I do not wish to be alone any
longer." Seven whispered into the Klingon's lap.

"Seven, you've been separated from the collective for over a year now.
Why didn't you say anything before now?" B'Elanna asked quietly, still
softly stroking the blonde head lying on her legs.

"I did. The Captain would not listen. She said that I was part of a
new collective, a greater collective. I find this new collective to be
lacking." Was the reply from the still crying drone.

"Are you sure that there's no hope?" The Klingon asked.

"I am a figure of scorn, Lieutenant. I am referred to as the Ice
Queen, Ice Bitch, and even as the unfeeling machine. You yourself have
been instrumental in making sure that some of these names have become
my own. I have tried to understand why you hate me so much, but I
cannot. I do not understand anything." Seven responded without looking
up. "What you are doing now is more affection and attention than I
have been shown in the entire time I have been here. I do not wish to
exist in this manner."

"What if I helped you to fit in better? Would that help?" The brunette
whispered while closing her eyes tightly to stem off her own flood of
tears.

"For what purpose? Even if someone would choose to sully themselves
and associate with a mere machine, the rest of the crew would still
hate me. I will never be a human. My implants must remain in order to
prevent my termination. I will always bear these reminders that I am
the enemy." Seven stated calmly and quietly as she regained control
over her crying.

"Isn't there another option? Anything at all?" B'Elanna asked while
she racked her own mind for a solution.

"If I cannot escape and I am prevented from assimilating the ship,
then I will self-terminate." Seven said coldly, finally lifting her
head and looking the other woman in the eye to show her sincerity. "I
cannot live like this. I will not live like this. I will rejoin the
collective or I will end my suffering." The blonde said, showing her
resolve.

"All right. I'll help." The Klingon whispered softly, finally opening
her eyes to look at the younger woman before her. It felt like it was
the least that she could do. She had belittled and badgered the blonde
since the day she came on board. For the first time in her life,
B'Elanna felt lower than Targh excrement, and it was her own damn
fault.

The small woman was unprepared for the other woman to wrap her into a
tight embrace. She found her face being squashed into a generous chest
while a whispered litany of `thank you's' poured forth from the drone
as she was rocked gently back and forth. B'Elanna closed her eyes
again and reveled in the warmth before the self-flagellation could
begin. All too soon, she was released from the hug and watched
passively as the taller woman regained her feet. "I am sorry,
Lieutenant. I know that you abhor touching me. I can assure you that
it will not happen again. I have no wish to make you uncomfortable."
She stated calmly, as if the hug had never happened.

"Seven, I." B'Elanna began before cutting herself off. What could she
say? She was reaping what she had sown and it was tearing her apart
inside.

"You need not say anything, Lieutenant. I was caught up in the moment
is the correct expression I believe. As for my escape, I will need a
way to take a shuttle and not be noticed for at least seven days. My
clearance has been revoked by the Captain, so you will have to arrange
it for me." The blonde said impassively. "Contact me when you have
everything ready and I will beam the required materials that I will
need directly onto the shuttlecraft prior to my escape."

"All right." The Klingon whispered as she bowed her head in defeat.
"Give me a couple of days to arrange everything."

"Of course." The blonde nodded in reply. "Good day, Lieutenant." Seven
stood up and walked to the door before she paused and turned back to
face the other woman. "I am aware of the superior sense of smell that
Klingon's posses, Lieutenant. I believe that Soap Solution forty-nine
will achieve the maximum amount of success in removing my stench from
your skin." Without another word, the drone spun on her heel and
exited the living quarters.

The small brunette simply stared at the door, lost in thought and
castigating herself. "Kahless, what have I done?" She whispered to the
darkness that surrounded her heart. For the first time in years, the
Klingon cried tears of sorrow for someone else, not for herself. She
cried for the young woman who was kept as an outsider and considered a
threat. A woman who wanted to belong to something so badly that she
was willing to return to the Borg collective so that she wouldn't be
alone any longer. B'Elanna wept quietly, sitting on her couch, as the
darkness of the room seemed to penetrate her skin, leaving her feeling
lost and ashamed. She wept for an abandoned and broken soul, lost in
the darkness, all alone.

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The End