San Francisco, 1000 hours

Seven's breakfast had been interrupted by another incoming communique from Admiral Necheyav and she'd promptly abandoned her meal and escaped her quarters. She still thought of her home in terms defined by her four years on Voyager even though she knew the proper label for such a civilian dwelling was "apartment ( Read more... )

(OOC: Contains violence and three naughty words.)

The doors of the captain's quarters aboard the USS Voyager parted with a hiss and Seven cautiously looked out. She found the corridor empty and stalked out and down to the door of the first officer's quarters. Yes, it was the same as it had been on her Voyager. The bastard's name was on the door ( Read more... )

Happy birthday, Admirals Janeway.

Happy birthday, Captain.

The Starfleet counselor once suggested this as a means of self-reflection. I see no purpose in this activity. And yet...

johari tableIt is fascinating what I will resort to in order to pass the time ( Read more... )

I learned to cook in my third year aboard Voyager. Cooking is an inefficient use of time here on Earth, where there is always enough power for replicators and a variety of restaurants within walking distance. On Voyager, however, we were always conserving power. Replicator usage was rationed. We were fortunate to have Neelix. I don't know who ( Read more... )

1245 hours
The Night Owl, San Francisco

Seven of Nine walked slowly along the street, practically in the shadow of Starfleet Command. She had spent some time selecting her outfit, pretending to consider each possibility and finally deciding inevitably on her favorite: a high-necked blue t-shirt and white pants. And then she had taken an ( Read more... )

I arrived back on Earth this afternoon.

A few years ago I never would have believed that I could be so grateful to see San Francisco growing closer outside the port.

It's not exactly home...it's not Voyager, but, today, it's more than sufficient ( Read more... )