This is something of a art-visual-image-to-story situation. Each 'life' is based on a different enhanced picture of Jeri Ryan as Seven of Nine. It's more for experimentation and expanding my horizons AS a writer than anything personal or experiential. These stories do not follow each other and are only loosely connected to each-other. Plus I wrote both of them last night at 3 am. Please judge accordingly. Annika Hansen is the human name of Jeri Ryan's character on Star Trek Voyager. But because she has been Seven of Nine for as long as she can remember, she doesn't' use it...In the actual show.
“So this is how un-enhanched humans 'get their kicks'?” I said to Captain Janeway.
“You seem to be enjoying it as well.”
“Yes, the endorphins the adrenaline...not being alone as one treks through to the next discovery. It is quite invigorating. Or I suppose,” I paused for a moment. “One would say 'delightful'.”
“I'm pleased you appreciate the beauty Seven. Although trussed and loose as you are I'd almost call you Annika.”
“We do not seem to be in a command setting at the moment, Annika shall suffice.” I smiled broadly at her. Kathryn Janeway was an invigorating companion and a formidable woman. She was a superior human in all respects, my primary role model in becoming more human, as well as embracing my new normal. Over the past 2 years I had been encouraged to think and act as an individual, something I accomplished fairly quickly. Learning how to relate to humans, to think and react as one of them took significantly more time and study. I was still learning how to fully integrate myself into such a society. As Kathryn herself had pointed out it was something learned through the act of doing. It's a process that takes years if you're born into it...and we never stop learning how.'. I found myself grateful to have had such a capable and patient teacher. Our games of velocity on the holodeck had expanded into swimming laps, chasing ancient reptiles in no longer standing wild-lands and finally lighting campfires and sleeping under holographic stars. My internal clock always roused me when I was required elsewhere. And that would not happen for several hours. “Are you suggesting what I believe you are suggesting Ca..Kathryn.”
“If you can think of a better way to spend the next 5 hours, then you are delusional.”
“I shall take that at face-value and suggest finding some...appropriate shelter.”
“Suggestion noted. But tonight shall be truly under the stars. Computer: Night.” Stars appeared and the air cooled by at least 5 degrees Celsius. “Now why don't you remove some of that unnecessary clothing.” Kathryn teased.
“If you find it unseemly, delete it yourself.” For 0.35 seconds Kathryn seemed confused. “After all,” I said steering myself closer to her. “it is as disposable as the rest of our environment.”
Captain Janeway stepped up to me, her demeanor strangely challenging. “Don't ever suggest I'd take the easy road. If I can't undress you myself...” I kissed her passionately. “If you wish to undress me Captain,” I said with what I hoped was an alluring grin. “you are more than at liberty to do so.”
She put her hands at my chest and pulled my shirt completely off of my body. "I'm pleased we think alike." She said, looking up at me, desire and warmth brilliant in her eyes. Her face hardened and when next she spoke her voice had changed. Her tone was still calm, but also firm and commanding. "No more words. No more hesitation."
The left side of my face curled up in a smile. Her instructions were well consented to, her intentions understood and approved. We fell into each-other.
I do not understand why the captain insisted on this latest modification to my uniform. The blue waistband fits comfortably enough and is a commanding shade of blue against the blue-gray tones of the organic fibers which cover my limbs. Indeed the silken fabrics which wrap over my breast, lift under my arms and over my shoulder are of the same visible shade of blue and does indeed seem to pull everyone's attention to me. The cloth comes up over my left shoulder and is pinned to the first fold of the cloth, as well as the organic material of my original uniform. Kathryn says the pin is necessary to signify I am in fact a member of the senior staff. I must admit the effect of such restrictive clothing at my waist provides an admirably striking view of my midriff. And the wave of cloth surrounding my breasts, along with the narrow band of fabric supporting them, efficiently command the attention of all those serving with me. And tonight commanding the attention of my shipmates is paramount. For the next 6 hours I will command both the attention and respect of all who serve with me; including the senior staff. Tonight any crew-member awake to serve this ship also serves under me.
“Report Ensign Kim.” I say crisply to the operations officer to my left.
“No ships or inhabited systems within 20 light-years. At least, none with any form of subspace communication relays.”
“If you consider that a comprehensive report we should reassign you to the sciences.” I replied.
“I'm afraid I do not understand ma'am.”
“There could well be inhabited planets whose inhabitant are still using high-band frequencies to communicate that could be well worth our interest, or at least making note of for our charts. Or ships passing within 3 light-years of us who's interest and inclination tends toward weapons and less toward advertising their existence to other species. I understand we are on a peaceful mission Mr. Kim. But we are also as I understand it on a mission of cataloging and exploration, or 'expanding our boundaries'. It is my understanding that accounting for the unfamiliar and examining all possibilities. Is part of our job description. We should account for the possibility that capable and advanced alien systems might utilize what might be for 'us' unrecognizable configurations. Expand your parameters and deliver a through report to me within 3 hours.”
I was pleased to observe blood rushing to his facial capillaries at the reprimand. He was embarrassed. Considering the belligerent attitude he frequently displayed toward me, he was likely more embarrassed at having to 'digest' a reprimand from me than he was at receiving one. To his credit his personal attitude made little difference in his his job performance and so I gave little thought to the distinction.
“Yes...sir.” He replied before resuming his seat.
“Now, if there is no further business, I suggest we return to the bridge and each of us make the sincerest effort to do our jobs with as little cross-talk as possible.” Mr. Paris raised his hand to offer his standard 'you're not the boss of me' objection. “I remind you Mr. Paris, even when I am not your commanding officer, and then very much the boss of you, I am still Captain Janeway's chief of security, charged and trusted with maintaining the efficient, orderly operation of this ship. And I do not believe she is any more fond of your distractingly infantile commiserations either.
...Thomas Paris lowered his head.
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