A/N: Happy Halloween.

Janeway Assimilates Seven of Nine

She could smell the leaking plasma from the warp manifold. It smelled like burned marshmallow in a gas station back home in Indiana. Not unpleasant memories in and of themselves, but together, they spelled nausea.

The odor burned Captain Janeway's lungs with every breath. Her eyes blinked at the dappled light sifting through the dense canopy of trees that surrounded them. But she could make out the shuttle's emergency descent by the naked branches and broken limbs left in its wake.

She turned her head and groaned. Pain shot down to her left toe. With all of her supernatural strength Janeway smashed the conn panel that had collapsed over her lap. The high whine of twisting metal joined the singing of birds she could hear outside.

When she was free she climbed gingerly to the aft compartment of the Delta Flyer. She gasped to see Seven lying flat on her back, her beautiful body half covered by a column of popping electronic controls. A gash over her head was bleeding profusely.

She knelt beside her, brushing stray strands of blonde away from her face. "Seven, can you hear me?"

Her clear blue eyes snapped open. "I am damaged," she croaked.

"I know, Seven," she replied. "As soon as I get you out of here, I'll patch you up. Good as new."

"Your hypothesis is flawed, Captain," she said in a hoarse monotone. "I am damaged beyond repair."


"I have approximately four minutes before the internal wounds bleed out and I cease to function."

Kathryn heaved the collapsed electronics up and away from Seven, giving a furious grunt.

Seven glanced at the heavy equipment that had fallen on her during their crash descent through to an unknown planet. "That material was sufficiently dense to inhibit my ability to..." She turned wide eyes on the Captain. "I believe I must recalculate my rate of death, as the equipment removal has accelerated the hemorrhaging—"

Kathryn brushed Seven's cheek with the back of her fingers. The woman was usually so tidy and well kept that the smudge marks across her cheek looked adorable. It was a frustrating thought, because Kathryn had to make a choice. Reveal something about herself that the Janeways had managed to hide for millennia or allow this woman whom she loved to die.

"Since I will cease to exist," Seven said, breaking Kathryn's reverie. "I must reveal that I have cared about you—beyond what a pupil would for her mentor."

The lips of Kathryn's mouth curled.

"To reveal this now is not insubordination," she replied, as if convincing herself of the facts. "It is merely a fact of my existence."

"Not 'merely' anything, Seven," Kathryn replied softly. "And definitely not one-sided."

"No?" Seven dissolved into a fit of coughing, bringing up blood that she spit into a rag that her Captain provided. After she had sputtered, Seven lay back, turning her weary eyes to the Captain once again.

Kathryn could see the light draining from those gorgeous eyes and knew that there was no time left. "But you've miscalculated. You will not die."

Seven was contemplating the comment with her last bit of awareness when she felt the sting of two punctures at her neck and then she felt more draining of her life-giving body fluid. With her last bit of strength she cupped her Captain's head.


A distant animal howl woke Seven of Nine with a start. The dense jungle darkness was held at bay by a warming fire just a few feet from her. Sitting opposite her, on the other side of the fire, was Captain Janeway. Other than a torn uniform, the woman looked like she'd just stepped out of her quarters. Seven stared at her for a moment, mesmerized by the dancing of light and shadow across the chiseled features of the classic beauty.

Then she remembered the crash of the Delta Flyer, careening into this tropical planet. She looked down, placing her human hand inside a bloodied rip at the belly of her biosuit. Her skin was flawless, yet the material was stiff and slightly discolored black. She looked up again at Janeway to finally catch her blue-gray eyes watching her.

"My calculations did not take into account a miraculous recovery."

Janeway laughed softly. "You may call it miraculous until you know the truth." Janeway stood up to step closer to Seven. She smiled down at the woman, a couple of fingers casually brushing wild blonde strands from the woman's face. She took a spot beside Seven, against a fallen log. "Tell me, Seven," she said with a curiously weighty expression. "Are you hungry at all?"

"No, I do require sustenance at this time, Captain."

Janeway rested her elbow on her knee, letting her fingers press into her temple. It'd been a long time since she'd acquired a new feratu. She'd never had a need once she became a Starfleet Captain. But then again, she wasn't going to let this woman die. These thoughts took mere seconds. "Then there's still time for you to decide."

"What must I decide? And of what truth must you speak?"

Janeway let her hand fall to lightly dance her nails on Seven's exposed shoulder. She wanted to touch her natural warmth before it dissipated into the cosmos forever.

"You were going to die," she whispered, watching her own fingers play as firelight flickered on them. "But I saved you."

"Yes, this I gathered."

"You have been changed," she said, emphasizing the last word. "In the ancient tongue, you underwent 'tresairy'."

"What ancient tongue do you refer?"


"I did not know—" A surprise ghosted Seven's face. "Tresair. Verb. To change. Puzzling. The Romanian language is not one among my database and yet I know this word."

"As I said, you are changing. What you have been is no longer and for that I'm truly sorry, Seven."

"What I have been is no longer? Yet..." Seven looked at her hand, turning it over numerous times. "I remain Seven of Nine."

"But you cannot die now."

Seven looked up from her hand. "You saved me through 'tresairy'?"

"Yes," she said quietly.

"I am vampyr," Seven replied, letting her tongue roll the 'r' with practiced ease. "As are you."

Janeway inclined her head in agreement. Then she saw shadows cast themselves across Seven's face, almost as if she could read her thoughts. "Do you prey on humans, Kathryn?"

Janeway winced at the horror and the accusation found in the question. Before she could answer, Seven's eyes became large and her lips parted. "Will I? Again?"

Kathryn drew closer, wrapping an around the woman's shoulders. "That is the part that remains unfixed," she said. "You must choose your path."

"My..." Seven's ocular implant arched high above her eye. "But I do not know of these."

"I changed you," Kathryn said, rubbing her back. "I am your invatator and I will guide you."

Seven placed an arm over her midsection. "A pain has begun here."

"Then we must hurry," Kathryn said. "There are three types of vampyrs. Inima, Ockule and Umbra."

Seven looked as if she were trying to reach for something hazy inside of herself. "These describe my relationship to you as my invatator?"

"Yes, exactly. Your assimilation of the vampyr DNA is quite rapid—"

"Compared to…?"

"Never mind that. We don't have much choice. If you delay much longer, your options will be gone." Janeway stretched her legs, crossing them at the ankles. She forced herself to look into the eyes of her victim. "You may be my slave, serving me for as long as I desire."

"Umbra-feratu," Seven said with a note of disgust. "A drone."

Janeway blinked, realizing suddenly the parallels of Seven's life. "Yes, but I would feed you, sustain your life."

Seven shook her head. "I was bound to the Borg Collective for eighteen years. I will be no one's servant."

Janeway smiled, pleased with the answer. "There is Ockule-feratu."

"Your equal."

"To do as you please. To come and to go."

"But also to feed on living things."

"Blood is life," Janeway said in the old language.

Seven was forced to grunt in affirmation. "What did you choose?" she finally asked her Captain.

"This one. Equality spoke to me," she said. "When I was changed, circa 2008, equality was still an illusive dream for my particular kind."

Seven eased back, studying the Captain from head to toe. "Your body has not deteriorated with age," Seven replied.

Janeway smiled crookedly to the fire. "You should never comment on a woman's age or her body, Seven."

"It was merely a fact," she said. When Janeway didn't reply, Seven added: "And a compliment, as you do not appear to be 369 years old."

"Hmm," she said, turning back. "In any event, it forced me to consider preying on humans—"

"And did you?"

Janeway held her gaze, though she wanted to shrink from the awful truth. "Once. But I could not bear draining the life of a sentient human being."

"It was distasteful?"

Janeway laughed at the unintended pun. "The rush was overpowering. The blood was delectable but I vowed that I would never to do it again."

"But how do you subsist?"

"Small animals," she said with a shrug. The corner of her mouth twisted slightly, knowing she detested hunting them. It was degrading for a vampyr, especially one in a Starfleet uniform with four golden pips.

"But to be in a Starship for six years, there are not many small animals that you may consume."

"Neelix keeps me supplied."

"Does he know?"

"Oh, yes," she replied with a sigh. "He's one of my umbra-feratus."

"And you feed him?"

"Technically, he feeds us both, but he prefers my protection and I don't really care for Talaxian blood. Too spicy." She gave an uneasy look. "It's complicated."

"But how does he feed you?"

"He caught me with my fangs sunken into a Dinaali sheep." Janeway covered her face, looking up cautiously between two fingers to appraise Seven's reaction. "It was most unbecoming a Starfleet officer."

"Did you reason with him?"

She shook her head, her face still covered. Then she dropped her hand and sighed. "I've never told anyone this, but I fed on him, but managed somehow to keep myself from draining him."

"But you said you'd only fed once on sentient life."

"You asked me about feeding on humans. It was true. I fed completely only once. Neelix is Talaxian. Well, he was Talaxian. Now he's vampyr, a member of the undead."

"That likely explains his culinary skills."

Janeway chuckled, never having tasted his cuisine. She'd given the appearance of eating it, even mimicked the reactions of her crew. But she had no need for mere protein. "Now he finds warm-blooded animals during shore leave that he drains of their fluid for us and feeds the cooked flesh to the crew. I consider it a win-win scenario." Seven's raised eyebrow made Janeway hastily added: "What kind of captain bites the necks of her crew?" Janeway became angry with Seven's obvious disapproval. "This arrangement is satisfactory."

"This arrangement is what you have in mind for me?"

"There is a third option: Inima-feratu."

Seven inclined her head. "It is rare among the vampyr."

"Only about ten percent of the vampyr population practices it. It's a shame, really. My parents practiced it and were able to live among humans for most of their lives."

"Your parents were vampyr?"

"Of course."

"But your father died on Ceti Tau. I thought vampyr were immortal?"

"They are. Usually. But they cannot be reanimated from an explosion."

Seven looked down her abdomen, where her mortal wound should have been. "But cuts and internal bleeding."

"Piece of cake."

Seven's stomach growled. It was no ordinary human sound of hunger. "My digestive system hungers but not for food." Suddenly, Seven sniffed, jerking her head to see a chipmunk like creature scurry back into the dense foliage of an overhead tree. She bolted to her feet and nearly bolted, until Janeway's superior strength caught her.

"Seven, listen to me. If you consume that animal's blood you will be Ockule-feratu forever, or until I am forced to subdue you."

Seven looked down at the iron grip holding her bicep and then up at Janeway. The "blood frenzy" was subsiding for now.

"As Ockule-feratu, you would require your own hunting territory."

"Voyager is your territory?"

Janeway gave a sad smile. "Yes, it is mine and mine alone. To reside there you must be umbra-feratu or—"



Seven relaxed her muscles and Janeway released her grip. "The details of Inima-feratu are unclear."

Janeway indicated the log for them to sit. "It's because there are not many."

"What is it then?"

"It is like umbra-feratu. You will live under my protection and I will nourish you—"

Seven shook her head emphatically and bolted to her feet once again. "I will not return to my former life. The Borg took what was not theirs. I would rather die."

Janeway's features softened and she let the backs of her fingers caress Seven. "I know," she whispered. "That's why I have loved you."

Seven blinked, her photographic memory replaying a foggy scene where Janeway had told her that her feelings were returned. "You love me?"

"That's why I couldn't bear to see you die, Seven," she said. "I had to do something."

"You have taken a great risk."

Janeway shoved that thought down. She refused to believe that Seven would betray her to the crew, even if Seven were to choose to be a vampyr on equal footing with her. Seven would not betray her.

"Inima-feratu is the gentle way."


"I can show you." Janeway leaned in and gently kissed the luscious lips. At first, Seven's lips were slack, but as Janeway remained there, sucking the lower one, the Borg began to respond.

Janeway's canine's extended into painful points but she kept them from Seven's flesh, with great effort. Instead, she let her tongue dart into Seven's moaning mouth.

Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Seven pressed herself into Janeway's smaller body. Her hands rubbed the Captain's back and pulled her closer.

Janeway was glad she'd laid out a sleeping bag for them. That's where she led Seven, though their lips never parted. Standing beside the reflective silver material, Janeway unzipped Seven's tattered biosuit and licked her lips at the large swells that lolled out.

She cupped each from under and smiled. "Dragoste...beautiful. Simply gorgeous, Seven."

As Janeway leaned down, Seven arched her back in offering. The Captain smiled at the natural gestured before flicking her tongue over a fat, coral-tipped nipple. Seven's inarticulate squeaks encouraged the Captain and she sucked the entire nipple into her mouth, sucking hard.

Seven whimpered and sagged against the Captain, nearly falling to her knees. Janeway's strong arms held up the six-foot beauty. "Let me finish undressing you and then you can lie down."

"I want you undressed," Seven stuttered.

Janeway looked back to see a glaze in the Borg's eyes. "We've got to hurry," she replied.

Quickly, Seven was lying on the spread with her legs provocatively splayed open. Janeway licked her lips at the moisture seeping from her womanly seam, as she undressed.

Naked, she stood over Seven. "Any room for me?" Her smile rested the points on her lower lips.

Seven moved over, offering most of the blanket to the Captain.

Janeway laid down on her back and patted her own taut stomach. "Move on top of me, Seven," she said. "You kiss me the way I kissed—"

Seven's tongue was in Janeway's mouth, exploring voraciously as she settled between Janeway's legs. A hand kneaded and then squeezed Janeway's breast.

Janeway arched up. "Easy, Seven! It's a breast, not bread dough!"

"I apologize," Seven said through heavy pants. "I have never copulated before."

Janeway smiled reassuringly. "It's more than that," she whispered, before taking Seven's mouth. A hand to Seven's shoulder blade eased the woman down and she ground her hips into Seven's.

"Now kiss my breasts."

"I will comply," she whispered as her lips descended, taking nips along the way. Her tongue was tentative at first and then hunger seemed to take over. Seven took the entire nipple into her mouth.

"Remember, they're nipples, not walnuts. Gently. You must be gentle to—oh, that's it, draga mea. My darling."

Janeway felt the gush and pushed down on Seven's shoulders. "Lower, Seven."

"Lower?" she asked, looking up in confusion.

Janeway bent a knee and took the woman's hand and placed it on her sopping sex. "Here. Put your mouth here."

Seven crawled down, nuzzling Janeway's dark auburn hairs at the apex of her legs. She inhaled deeply as a fingertip touched the copious moisture. "Your Bartholin's glands have lubricated you in preparation for penile penetration."

Janeway laughed, flipping a wrist over an eye. "'Peniles' are not the only reason, Seven," she said, her voice laced with mirth and desire.

"Ah," Seven replied. "It is a signal of sexual arousal." Seven rose to an elbow to look up at the prone Captain. "Are you aroused, Captain?"

Janeway laughed at the ridiculous question. "Yes, my dear Seven. More than you can know."

"Then how may I bring your arousal to completion?"

"Not yet," she said, lifting her head. "You must eat me."

"Eat you?" Seven's elbows locked and she was sitting nearly straight up. "I would not harm you or consume you, Captain. I am not a cannibal and I will not become one to live. Not to become a Ockule-feratu."

Janeway could see Seven's arms were trembling and she heard another growl. "You don't have long, Seven. You must consume my fluid." She lifted a leg to emphasize her point. "Then you may become Inima-feratu."

Seven looked down. Her lips were red and puffy. The fluid clung to the small, curly hairs, making them glisten in the firelight. "I do not understand."

Janeway inhaled, once and twice. "Long ago, the first vampyrs—man and woman—declared that our race would survive on the body fluids of humans. It was assumed to be blood, until the first Inima-feratu appeared centuries later to prove their theories wrong. Any body fluid, as the First Ones had originally declared. We would be separate, but equal."

Seven dipped a finger into Janeway's canal, causing the woman to moan and buck. She brought the viscous fluid to her nose. Carefully, a pink tongue darted out to flick her finger. Seven's eyes enlarged to twin moons. Then her finger plunged into her mouth.

Janeway smiled as her hand lovingly stroked the woman's head as she slurped and licked between her legs. "That's it," she purred. "Beautiful. So very…." Janeway's words became guttural sounds in her throat as Seven's tongue played around her clit and darted into to her sex.

Instinctively, when she had finished feeding, Seven sucked the swollen organ into her mouth and sucked. Janeway's cry of release echoed through the jungle. When she'd returned to herself, the Captain found Seven lying by her side, lightly stroking a breast with a fingertip.

Seven of Nine's smile revealed twin canines, sharp and long as they peaked from under the upper lip.

Janeway laughed and kissed her lips. "Welcome to my keep," she said.

"I believe I will enjoy Inima-feratu."

Janeway pushed Seven on her back. "Oh, me, too, my darling. But now it's my turn to feed."

Seven bent her knees and spread her legs in offering.


Back on Voyager, each sat on a biobed as the Doctor waved a medical tricorder over each of them in turn. "Well, you both look perfectly fit and healthy, which is amazing when you consider the mangled remains of the Delta Flyer."

The women smiled tightly at each other, their vampyric canines hidden from view. "Just lucky, I guess," Janeway said, more to Seven than the Doctor.