#cocky seven turns janeway on

[lesbiangummybearmafia]

Janeway is so taking Seven to bed later and showing Seven just how brilliant she think she is! ❤️

#das gay your honor

[x-wingkc]

No Promises

Fanfiction: Star Trek Voyager Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None Relationships: Janeway and Chakotay Fictober 21 Prompts: multiple “Chakotay, to my office please,” she chimed over her comm badge.

She was going to finally have this conversation. She could do this. She was ready. Right?

Her fingers fumbled and dropped the PADD as she heard the chime on her ready room door. He was here. She paused, staring at the door, taking a few deep breaths before allowing him in.

She clasped her hands together and sat up tall.

She realized in that one moment that the tough exterior she has built for herself was easily toppled by only one person. One man. Her confidant. Her...friend.

“Come,” she said, forcing her usual confidence the crew has come to know over the past seven years.

Seven years. Seven years with a ragtag team of Starfleet Officers and Maquis. She will never know or understand the real reasons of why or how they all came together. But now she’d do everything in her power to keep the ones under her command from any sort of punishment. They did save her life, and the ship, more than once.

He came in far enough to let the door close behind him. But he just stood, staring at her, waiting at parade rest for her to give him a command, any command. He was used to her being in charge.

“Please, sit,” she said, motioning with one hand to the chair in front of her desk. She averted her eyes back to her PADD, and made herself look busy as he took the final steps and sat down in the chair in front of her.

He clasped his hands together and placed them on his lap as he waited for her to begin. He had no idea what was going on. They had less than eight hours to go until they were back on Earth. Her home. Where is home for him now?

He’d grown to admire her so very much. He would not use the word love. That implied something that he may never have. But, he did love her. He’d die for her, and he has proven that over and over.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” she began, raising her eyes to his.

She let her eyes trace his tattoo as she thought of how to begin.

“Chakotay, what will you do once you return to Earth?” she asked.

He shifted in his seat, and looked down at her desk briefly before raising his eyes back to hers.

“Didn’t we already have this conversation?” he asked her, holding her gaze.

He watched her eyes travel down his face, to his comm badge, then back up again.

“We did. It’s just. I was wondering,” she stuttered out, not quite sure how to say this.

He watched as she struggled to get the words out. Whatever she needed to say, it was obviously hard for her.

“Captain?” he asked.

At that word, her eyes immediately fixed back on his, and she gave him a smal, gentle smile. He noticed that it was mostly her eyes that smiled back at him.

“Kathryn. For this conversation, will you please call me Kathryn?”

He leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest. He got a cocky smile on his face, and crossed one leg over the other.

“Alright, Kathryn. What is this about?”

She clasped her hands again, and leaned forward on her elbows, which brought her just a little closer to him.

“We, uh, have said no promises when we return,” she said rather emphatically.

He froze. He stared at her, getting a little better idea of where this conversation was going.

“No promises,” he replied, nodding his head, and not letting go of her gaze.

“I’ve been thinking,” she said, scooting her chair a little further in, and leaning a little more upright on her arms.

“This was not part of the plan,” he said.

He watched something in her eyes dim. They had tried so hard to keep this professional. He even tried dating Seven. And here she was wanting to try to open this door again. He did not like the dim look of defeat in her eyes.

She wasn’t prepared for his rejection. She had to be the Captain all of these years.

“Kathryn, I didn’t mean,” he started, but she cut him off.

“No, you are right. I suppose this is not part of the plan. Thank you. Dismissed,” she said sternly.

He did not move. She grabbed her PADD and began to busy herself again.

He sat as she pretended to scroll through her PADD. He slowly got up. Instead of heading to the door, he gently placed his hand on the PADD, and gently removed it from her hands. She did not look up at him.

If anyone on this ship could make her vulnerable, it was him. If anyone on this ship could make her feel comfortable with her own emotions, it was him.

“Kathryn,” he said softly, with a rumble that played across her skin.

He waited for her to look up. Her eyes flashed from scared and hurt right back into Captain. He saw it. He saw her. For the first time, she let him see her, even if it was for a fraction of a second.

He did not look away. He reached a hand out for her. He stood and waited.

“Don’t ruin this,” he whispered.

She stood. She brushed the front of her uniform, and found her breath shaking. Not now. Not here. She took in a deep breath, let it out, and found him still looking at her. With her composure intact again, she reached across her desk and took his hand.

She raised her eyes to his, and was once again the Captain of the ship.

“I’m with you, you know that. Right?” he said softly.

She gave him a slight nod of her head.

“This could have gone better,” she said with her command voice again.

She gave her his infamous cocked smile, and squeezed her hand. Then his gaze became serious again.

“I’ve waited for this. I can’t wait as long as you need me to,” he said softly.

He watched her eyes soften again. He watched her inhale deeply, in an obvious effort to control her emotions.

“You don’t have to do that with me, Kathryn.”

She knew he meant be brave and put on the gruff exterior. She knew he meant she did not have to stay strong around him. How she longed for the day when she didn’t have to be the one in charge, making decisions, and determining who lives and who dies. How she longed to just lay in his arms and let go. But today was not that day.

She pulled herself back, and he watched her take control once again.

She nodded her head, and squeezed his hand. She let go and stood tall behind her desk.

“This is it, isn’t it,” she said more than asked.

He half-smiled at her. He slowly moved around to her side of the desk. She looked down at her desk, not wanting to look at him. She couldn’t let her guard down. Not here. But there he was. Standing next to her. Everything in her wanted to fall into him.

She felt a gentle finger on her chin. He slowly moved her head to face him. She stared at his shoulder for a few moments before she allowed her eyes to look up at him. He smiled as her gaze met his.

“I know how to get a hold of you,” he whispered, lightly brushing his thumb against her cheek.

He slowly dropped his hand, and spent one more moment in her eyes. Then he slowly backed away, and headed for the door. He turned back to look at her one more time before the door opened.

For a moment she let him see her. All of her. He saw the desire. He saw the care. He saw the love. Then he watched the Captain come back into view. He smiled at her. He admired how easily she could flip her emotions on and off. She was more like Tuvok than she realized.

“No promises,” she said, with just the slightest up-curve of her lips.

He saw the light flash in her eyes. He smiled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Kathryn,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

They both smiled at each other for the first time today.

“I’ll see you in a while. I know you have a lot to prepare for as we get closer to Earth,” he said, then spun to leave her alone in her office.

She watched him leave. She reached up and patted her hair, making sure it was still in place. Then she sat down again, this time disinterested in her PADD. Maybe once things get situated on Earth she could. Maybe they could. She leaned back in her seat and allowed herself to smile at the thought.

[falkenscreen]

Star Trek: Voyager

Yes this show ended some time ago; that doesn’t mean that it’s not still underrated.

A relative late convert to Star Trek, this author committed to traversing the Delta Quadrant having finished The Original Series, The Next Generation, Discovery & Picard to date. Deep Space Nine is next; like the Doctor I don’t know anything about this ‘Dominion’ but they seem important and we’ll get there.

Having now finished Voyager, here’s the (spoiler-filled) thoughts of someone who came to the bridge afresh and savoured the light-hearted nature of the show. Yes TNG demanded more attention and the episodes herein that do are generally better, but for relaxed, semi-serialised adventure Voyager is a high point.

We’ll start with the negative and get to the fun stuff.

From the get-go there was a jarring disconnect between the premise and goals of the show. If a ship more advanced than any in the region is travelling really fast in one direction they’re not going to keep running into the same people; better begetting a saga poised for episodic rather than serialised fiction. The writers and audience were evidently a little tired at this point of TNG’s slavish devotion to wrapping everything up in 40-odd minutes so wanted to try variations on a theme; it was the right approach for the time accompanied by a smart premise that didn’t match.

And a stellar premise it was only set to be buoyed by the Federation-Marquis dynamic. Also partly squandered, corresponding grounds for strong tension and stories were left by the wayside – characterised by Chakotay’s ill-established, apparently immediate and seemingly endless trust in Janeway; together major failings of the show.

On continuity, and just so it’s out of the way; no they don’t show it but it’s clear the crew just manufactured more photon torpedoes like they did so much else.

Commencing with one of the best episodes, there is rarely a subsequent moment as character-defining as Janeway destroying the array. Don’t get me wrong, Kate Mulgrew is great, but she alike Kirk and Picard are, as fleshed out as they become, for stretches bare variations on a tired theme; young headstrong hotshot dedicates their life to the stars to become a reasoned, seasoned Commander. ‘Tapestry’ did it best and there was no need to explore this further.

Voyager had a general problem with characters that took several seasons to grow; it was a long time before Neelix stopped being grating and his earnestness became endearing. There is too very little you can relay about Tuvak beyond his being a Vulcan and a little sardonic, or Harry besides his yearning for advancement or Chakotay aside his membership of the Marquis and focus on his cultural background.

The stand-out worst episode of the entire show was Chakotay finding out that the Sky Spirits central to his people’s religion were actually from the Delta Quadrant; you can garner Robert Beltran’s clear ambivalence (at best) to such material. This author is aware of the significant tension between the actor and others on set; I can understand the frustration at a lead cast member belittling the series in public but the directions and emphasis the character took in later seasons was something else, as were the music cues whenever his or some others’ cultures came up.

Star Trek, and notably The Original Series, is often (but not always) shrewd for both telling stories addressing the place of culture, religion and community in people’s lives while not overly if at all drawing attention to particular characters’ backgrounds. To Beltran’s credit, he only made the disaffection perceptible on screen in the episodes that were of poor taste, as opposed to the ones that were just bad. There are many lousy episodes of The Original Series but what near always makes it enjoyable is Shatner et al’s absolute commitment to the bit. One of the very worst episodes of Voyager is the one where Harry is lead to believe that he’s actually from a planet in the Delta Quadrant full of attractive women; yet no one in Star Trek ever needs to look bored reading their lines. There are good ones and bad ones and we’re along for the whole ride.

There’s also that one where Tom and the Captain turn into salamanders, start life on a random planet and somehow transform back into their usual selves with these shenanigans never brought up again. Yeah that was awful but it was preceded by a generally decent few acts centred on exceeding warp limits; reputation aside it wasn’t quite down there.

On Alpha Quadrant folks being in the Delta Quadrant, as much as I missed the Klingons they did not need to rock up latently and near the very end; there were plenty of better ways to give B’Elanna an arc. One of the more interesting characters, she offered a variation on Worf’s overwhelming pride as a Klingon, though she barely got enough episodes to shine and these were predominantly featured much later on. And when the show stopped pretending Tom was the cocky pilot we’ve seen dozens of times before he too managed to get a whole lot more interesting.

It would have made a lot more sense for McNeill to just directly continue his character from TNG’s ‘The First Duty;’ alas.

Also welcome were the insights into the Borg; even if they became a lot less eerie it was great to learn that much more about them, though nothing, save the introduction of Seven, bettered the recuperating drones who were the ship’s first Borg encounter. The Borg children were also very funny (the related Voyager pick-ups in Picard were excellent) and should have stayed on the ship longer so Seven could say more things like “fun will now commence;” she can only say “Naomi Wildman” deadpan, as good as it was, so many times.

Heralded by such a superb actress, Seven and the Doctor thrillingly shared dual arcs akin but distinct to Data’s and each other’s, permitting us to relish their gradual growth and revel in their leaps forward. Seven’s narrowing down of eligible crewmen, unlike Chakotay’s later courting, was a particular highlight, as was her month of isolation when the crew were in stasis and the one where the Doctor overtook her node.

The Doctor however emerges the best character, far and above all others save the near as interesting Seven. Picardo’s charisma and stage presence, well-befitting an exaggeratedly humanistic, bombastic piece of programming, only propelled the most relatable arcs in the series; his desire to fit in and, as any, make a contribution. The Doctor’s opening number in ‘Tinker, Tenor, Doctor, Spy,’ but one occasion where Picardo’s vocal abilities were graciously integrated into the series, by this author’s judgement is the funniest sequence in seven seasons.

‘Message in a Bottle’ with the Doctor centre was too among the very best of the series. Mining any opportunity for comedy we can nonetheless be grateful, alike TNG, that they kept the bald jokes to about one per season.

As asides, it was lovely to see Reginald Barclay return and realise his aspirations in one of the best and most heart-warming episodes of the saga, while the singular and very obvious inspiration one episode draws from Predator proved amusing for just being so unabashed.  

‘Scorpion’ was amazing as was anything to do with Species 8472. Captain Proton, acknowledging the entire franchise’s schlocky roots, was a definite recurring highlight, with Mulgrew in one installment clearly having no end of fun alike the cast’s enjoyable turns in late 90’s Los Angeles alongside Sarah Silverman. Speaking of guest stars, seeing The Rock was a nice surprise though with hindsight they may never have cast him given Star Trek shrewdly chose to not have celebrity appearances overshadow the show. But hey, they can’t see the future; at least cleverly opting to obscure Jason Alexander in piles of costuming.

‘Year of Hell’ is good, but the premise befitted an entire season and alike the lacklustre finale nothing really matters (with some well-executed exceptions) if you can just go back in or erase time. There were many, many episodes that shouldn’t have been contained within forty minutes and deserved longer-form devotion, ala ‘30 Days.’ ‘Timeless’was a much better (and unusually technically-focused) variation on the aforementioned themes and it was fun to catch Geordi, as it was Deanna and especially Sulu. ‘The Omega Directive’ was cool; ‘The Thaw’ was great.

The fable-esque nature of the franchise has always been enjoyable and digestible given the show is partially aimed at kids, though there are episodes where it’s just a little too direct, and characters take a little too much pause. ‘Alice,’ the one where Tom almost cheats with his ship as an overly obvious parallel about why you shouldn’t have sex with other people if you have a girlfriend, if a good lesson, in execution was a tad much.

On reflection this author was surprised to discover some of the least generally favoured episodes, among them the Fairhaven double. It may be my great personal affection for Ireland but it makes perfect sense that given the time available this sort of world would be created and characters might pursue holo-relationships, a theme underexplored in Voyager yet still covered to great effect. The established technical deficiencies of holo-technology in such regular use should not come as a surprise when they recur.  

The one where Kes comes back was actually a later highlight; her character was never very well handled and no it wasn’t that blast off into the sunset but sometimes old friends lose their way and it’s the job of old friends to set them on the right path.

Most surprising was the dislike directed at ‘Tuvix.’ The difference between Voyager and much heavier sci-fi is that herein characters make a lot of decisions that are hard, not ones that are difficult. The destruction of the array was devastating but not morally questionable within the confines of the show. As a tangent, you could argue that had Janeway made the decision to return to the Alpha Quadrant at the beginning of the series that it would have been the morally correct decision given that, as we see in ‘Hope and Fear,’ another highlight, the ship would not otherwise have been a factor in much disorder and destruction. The show was not however so expansive philosophically as to greatly tread such ground as the franchise otherwise managed in the likes of ‘City on the Edge of Forever.’

In ‘Tuvix’ Janeway, a figure, like Chakotay, who often shifted characterisation to fit the requirements of any given story, was faced with a difficult decision with no easy moral out nor ethically unquestionable approach. It was a refreshing change and correspondingly dark denouement to boot apparent in the likes of ‘Latent Image,’ another fine instalment with the Doctor.

‘Eye of the Needle,’ the only episode this author has watched twice to date and a deeply empathetic early high point, save ‘Balance of Terror’ is the best treatment of the guarded but necessarily relatable Romulans (I haven’t seen all the movies!). ‘The Void’ bookends the show as a later stand out while the in respects not dissimilar ‘Night’ bears one of the darkest challenges and finest, most resonant endings.

This brings us to the ‘best episode;’ one featured regularly in top ten lists but seemingly not a very favourite.

‘Blink of an Eye’ is everything that is exceptional and aspirational about Star Trek. Stranded in the stratosphere of a planet where time passes with greater rapidity, the curious presence of Voyager in the skies begins to influence the society to the point where the inhabitants develop space travel to face the spectre.

A commentary on the Prime Directive as deft as any and a relatively novel variation on both the time travel and petri dish tropes resplendent throughout sci-fi and Star Trek, the episode is also a fabulous meta-commentary on the place of the franchise in popular culture much less crude than Janeway bemoaning the Doctor’s fleeting interplanetary fans’ obsession with every aspect of his personal life. Incorporating a fair bit more science than is typically par, the astronaut’s moving decision to help them, as with his staring into the heavens as Voyager finally departs, speaks to the selfless ethos and sense of overwhelming curiosity so intrinsic to the most basic lore of Star Trek, the most beloved episodes and all that Gene Roddenberry best achieved.

It’s also an amazing meditation on first contact principles and pitfalls which unlike many episodes doesn’t borrow story bones from TNG.

A more than welcome reprieve from a pandemic, I didn’t spend as long in the Delta Quadrant as the crew but for what I did I was glad to relish with them.

Star Trek: Voyager is now streaming on Netflix

[pixiedane]

Who would you ship Rain Robinson with if she came on board? Paris, Kim, Chakotay or someone else? Maybe Janeway herself?

First and foremost: B’Elanna. Rain shares traits with Tom - cult movies, pizza, cocky quips - and she’s a science-science-scientist who fully and enthusiastically believes in aliens before confirmation so she’s pretty much perfect for B’Elanna. 

[Note: @rikerssexblouse​ was kind enough to write me a version of “Future’s End” where they had the brief non-relationship she had with Tom in canon: Sunshine.]

That said, I absolutely ship her with Tom. It’s set up in canon, he’d certainly be her closest ally for the first few weeks, they share those traits so they’d bond easily. She’d need a crash course in the 24th century and he’d love to exchange it for her commentary on his 20th century obsessions. It could be a lasting relationship (in which case B’Elanna and Seven could have the relationship I always want them to have) or a short lived romance that turns into a comfortable and close friendship. 

Harry and Chakotay doesn’t make as much sense to me. Unlike with B’Elanna, I think the things she shares with Tom are not the things that Harry finds attractive in Tom. And Rain does not give me a “crushing on her professor” vibe even if Chakotay were interested, which doesn’t seem too likely to me – I think he’d treat her the way he does B’Elanna. 

Rain and Janeway would be very interesting. But I think in any scenario where Rain stayed on Voyager, she’d be made crew, Janeway would take her under her wing and avoid seeing her as a potential lover. And I think it would be compounded by Janeway’s guilt that she dragged Rain away not only from her home, but also her future. Rain would not see it that way at all, but Janeway takes on responsibility for everything regardless. I do think it would be fun to write something where Rain is confused and awkwardly tells Tom or B’Elanna that she thinks the captain is flirting with her and she’s freaking out and they’re all ha ha, I know, that’s just how she is, and Rain is both relieved and disappointed. 

Finally, Rain and Tuvok would be an amazing odd couple. I’m not really picturing a romance, but I’d love to explore their friendship given he’s her freakasaurus. 

Send me a ship and I’ll give you my (brutally) honest opinion on it and/or write a scenario/give you a series rundown of my headcanons

[afraidofchange]

⁉️ j7

@parallaxedcaptain - accidental kisses (no longer accepting!) 

   In the midst of another competitive round of Velocity, Seven of Nine finds herself at her proverbial wit’s end - the Captain should not be this difficult to defeat when she has advanced physical ability, and certainly, heightened senses and visual acuity. But it’s the cocky grin Janeway gives that drives her on.

“Another round,” Seven declares. It isn’t a question, but a statement. Amused, Janeway shrugs her shoulders with that little breathless laugh.

“Alright.”

 And so, the game continues. Determination settles on the former borg’s expression with the set of her brow and jaw, watching the disc and aiming with calculated precision. Janeway keeps loose, managing to make every return thus far. So, Seven ups the ante, forcing a quickfire shot to send the disc straight at the Captain, aimed toward her centre of mass, all the while stepping in for the return to put it behind her.

Yet. 

Even still, Janeway anticipates her decided course of action, moving in just as close, to fire the disc at such close range that even the most perfect borg could never be able to make the volley in return, but in doing so, brings them so close, Seven can feel Janeway’s warmth, of body heat, breath, and perspiration upon her skin as both women realize this is no draw, far from it. 

“Got you,” Kathryn quips confidently between breaths - ones that move her chest, ones that Seven can feel moving against her taller frame. With her patience put to the test, she has to admit that she has lost - but instead, and perhaps, her sense of human impulse strikes - she kisses the Captain. Hard. Enough to take her breath and leave her nearly stupefied.

And that much, Seven knows, gives her a victory of her own accord. 

“I wish for a rematch. Tomorrow. 2100 hours.” Leaving the Captain to question her motive, her course of action, Seven simply turns on her heel to leave the holodeck - grinning once her back is turned.