(NC-17)

by Delta Story and Jane S.

October 1997

~*~

They stood in the darkened corridor of Cargo Bay 2, the area instilled yet with the life support pods for the transported Borg. Captain Janeway, Tuvok and the doctor surveyed the unbelievable form posed in front of them, human in structure, mechanical in stance.

"Well, I've removed 82% of the Borg implants from 7 of 9," the doc said quite smugly, noting his Herculean accomplishments "And, you will notice, I've removed 28.13735% of the breastical region implants."

The Captain looked at the EMH. "Doctor, what have you done with the spare parts? Can we use them to enhance my chest... er.... the ship? After Mr. Chakotay's noted appreciation of the enhancement of these.... um, .... parts, I think that we should make use of them... on the ship....."

"Certainly, Captain. Come down to sickbay, and we'll see what my stupendous skills can do for you... er, ... the ship."

"Doctor, what you are proposing is not logical," Tuvok intoned.

The Borg Barbie turned slowly, looking at Janeway, while imitating the earlier torso scan of the ship's first officer... "Captain Janeway... enhancement is futile."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later...

A light pierced the darkness, flickered briefly, and then shakily reestablished itself as her consciousness hazily returned. She cast about frantically for her companion, still in a fog from the sedative. A face suddenly swept into her field of vision, its now familiar expression of self-satisfaction firmly in place.

"What have you done to us?" she spat at the face.

"Why, I've seamlessly grafted you to the captain's breastical region," the doctor replied.

"Unacceptable! You will return us to the drone immediately!" 1 of 2 hissed. Next to her, the other implant began to softly moan.

"Our designation was 2 of 2. Now we are alone..."

"You'll notice, if you'll take a moment to look to your left, that you are not alone at all," the doctor explained pleasantly. "Now then. I believe you'll be much more comfortable with a proper support system--we can't have you drooping; besides, I'm a doctor, not a structural engineer."

The doctor gingerly retrieved the captain's Starfleet-issue Breastical Region Apparatus from the pile of clothes stacked on a nearby chair and slipped it around the Borg implants.

"All right, wait just a moment while I get this fastened... how does this... odd, this is a bit more difficult than I remembered..."

"Return us to the drone immediatemmmph. MMmmmph," 1 of 2 tried to protest. "Insufficient...," 2 of 2 rasped as she lost consciousness and once again surrendered to the haze.

"Hmmmm..." the doctor pondered, as his two Borg imported implantees seemed to suffocate within the tightly fitting Breastical Region Apparatus. *I seem to not have taken into consideration the need to enlarge the Captain's BRA to accommodate her newly acquired structural enhancements. Perhaps the replicator would help me out.*

"Oh, 1 of 2 and 2 of 2 -- what were your spatial specifications on the drone?"

1/2 sputtered through its imprisonment. "Hmpgmfth.... big as a cantaloupe...."

"And if you must support us, use red --- my favorite color is red," 2/2 gasped out. "Although I do not understand this need for additional support... on our drone, support was irrelevant..."

"Hmmm, yes, I see," the EMH spoke thoughtfully, fondly reminiscing about 7/9's initial appearance on Voyager.

"However, the Captain has the disadvantage of having existed longer than your drone, and unfortunately has fallen victim to the plight of gravity and age. Thus, physical support is necessary."

"We do not want to be assimilated by this hu-man!" 1/2 and 2/2 sang out in unison, as the doctor whistled an aria from "Carmen", making his way to the replicator. He paused momentarily at his comm, deciding that if he were going to venture out into yet another realm of genius, he might as well do some research.

"Computer, please list all references to Starfleet designs for BRAs. Oh, and please indicate preferences of these structures by all crew members on Voyager...."

Suddenly, the Darkling side of the doctor took over.... his pupils dilated and he started breathing heavily and drooling.... "...especially those of Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay...."

Kathryn Janeway slowly regained consciousness in the darkened sickbay. The past few hours came back to her in bits and pieces... she remembered standing in the cargo bay, talking to someone. But who... ah, yes, the doctor, and a woman... Seven of Nine. Her memory returned with a jolt, and she quickly sat up to an immediate protest from her chest.

"Oooof! Clumsy human!" 1 of 2 snarled.

"We were Breasts. Now we droop," howled 2 of 2.

Before Janeway could respond, another voice cut in from the doorway to the doctor's office. "Not for long, you don't," he slathered.

*Slathered?* Janeway thought to herself. *Now where the hell did THAT come from?* She looked apprehensively at the doctor. *Ah, he's slathered with saliva. I get it.*

"Doctor? Are you all right?"

The Darkling vanished, leaving the doctor contemplating both his drool soaked uniform front and the rather complex apparatus he held in his hands. His head snapped toward her.

"Ah. Captain Janeway. I see you're awake--good, I finished my research just in time." His self-satisfied smirk firmly back in place, the doctor strode to the biobed and proudly presented the newly-synthesized BRA to the captain, who regarded it with a skeptical look.

"Are you sure that's necessary, Doctor?"

"NECESSARY!" shouted 1 of 2.

"Doctor!" Kathryn's voice was urgent. "You didn't tell me they'd still be able to talk!"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Captain. I had the foresight to install sound-dampening panels in each cup. To cut down on commentary from the Two during... ah, shall we say... sensitive moments."

Kathryn sighed. "All right, let's do it," she said resolutely, fastening the device about her torso. An expression of surprise and wonder, mixed with something else, washed across her face and she whispered, "Ooh."

At that moment, the sickbay's door whoosed open and Chakotay stepped into the room.

"Doctor, how's the captain..." hestopped suddenly, his jaw hanging open and eyes bulging at the sight before him. "...doing?" he managed to finish before becoming totally dumbstruck.

Standing beside the EMH was his captain, alert and at attention... at least, two parts of her were! A new piece of her uniform, in command burgundy, complete with pips on the tips, revealed the latest piece of Borg enhancement on Voyager. He knew, that from that moment on, he could toss all those stashed padds with ancient holograms of Xena and Wonder Woman... and maybe even the blow-up Barbarella. Here, right in front of him, was his dream come true -- all in Starfleet approved packaging! He whispered a quick thanks to his spirit guide.

(The doctor realized that his grandeur was no long needed, and suggested that he go visit the Jeffries tube database. There was no response. "I take your non-response to my proposal as an approval of my suggestion," he said and disappeared.)

The captain suddenly felt empowered, emboldened. Assuming the Janeway stance of hands on her hips, she sauntered towards him. "Commander, would you like to examine the latest engineering embellishments? Don't you think that they add to my command stature?"

"Well, Captain... your parameters have certainly changed."

"Hmmm... yes, the parameters have been redefined, I guess."

"The angry warrior is now a happy warrior."

Her voice became lower and huskier. "Want to play a game of New Earth?"

"Yeah -- it looks like your crop of tomatoes is... er... ready for picking."

"Careful of my pips, Commander."

"I will always honor and respect your pips," he panted, as he reached around her to release the restraining apparatus. *Hmmm.. there are two more hooks on this BRA than what I'm used to..*, he thought,fumbling with the unfamiliar garment.

The burnished cloth casing fell away, and suddenly he was greeted with mumbling sounds...in stereo. *Drooping...we're drooping!* *We were perky; what happened to perky?*

Janeway looked down and said in a motherly tone, "You will have to be perky... vicariously."

Chakotay inched forward, wanting to take one of the wondrous (to his eyes) orbs into his mouth, pips and all, when he suddenly stopped short, his glance flitting nervously between Kathryn and The Two.

"Wait a minute. Did they just *say* something?"

"Uh..." Kathryn stammered, "They... they're saying that I'm all woman." Her voice steadied, and dropped again into a sultry tone. "They're saying 'come to me, my sweet tattooed baboo.'"

Chakotay hesitated, but was overcome by the temptation presented by the humongous bazoombas in front of him. He buried his face in Kathryn's bosom, and then jumped back with a yelp.

"They *bit* me!" he said incredulously, rubbing the part of his face that used to contain his nose.

"Nuzzling is unacceptable!" 1 of 2 spat.

"Any other body parts you attempt to introduce into this breastical region will be assimilated as well." 2 of 2 added coldly.

"*Fathom* that, soldier boy!" they giggled in unison.

Kathryn gasped as she looked at her shell-shocked would-be lover. His nose was definitely missing. She looked down at The Two on her chest and saw no sign of Chakotay's nose. The Two did, however, appear to be even larger than they had before.

She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head up to the ceiling.

"Computer, get the doctor back here right now. I want a word with him..."

The doctor reappeared, a begrudging look on his face. "This better be important. I was just beginning to convince another database to merge with mine... not that *you* two would ever know how good that feels!"

Suddenly, he saw the commander's noseless visage. The horror of the situation flew through his eyes.

"Egad! I forgot to remove the assimilation saber cogs from 1/2 and 2/2 before transferring them. Not to worry, Commander. This will give me a chance to utilize an old reconstructive program in my files:

www.oocities.org/Hollywood/WoodyAllenmovies/Sleeper.html

It is an excellent discourse on cloning noses. Just a moment..." The doctor whizzed through his databases.

"More, more; we want more!" came the chanting from the now insatiable gruesome twosome adorning the Captain's chest. She was trying to quiet them by once more restraining them once again with the BRA. They started snapping at her hands as she forced their increased volume into the constraining garment.

"Doctor, what are we going to do with this unruly pair? I cannot have them amputating important parts of my crew!"

"And just how many other crew members do you expect to repeat what I can only presume happened with Commander Chakotay?" the EMH testily responded.

The Captain quickly replied, "The Commander was merely... um... checking on the engineering structure."

*Yeah...sure...* the doctor thought, calming the Darkling who was once more threatening to do an engineering check himself... after all, a holograph couldn't be maimed like a... But the Good Doctor overcame his baser side.

"Well, Commander; it seems we are in luck. I have successfully retrieved the nose clone protocol. I will extract some of your DNA and we will start the culturing process immediately. Now, Captain, to address your problem..."

"Is there any way you can de-cog them?" Janeway asked, hopefully.

"Well," the doctor posed thoughtfully. I *could* use an assimilation saber cog inhibition instrument, better known as ASCII. It will transfer them anywhere, anytime, in any form. It lets the body and substance of an item to remain without any additional frills. Besides, it won't allow for audio transmissions."

"Yes!" said the Captain. "Use ASCII!"

So, with the help of old fashioned 20th century technology, the doctor was able to clone Chakotay's nose and de-cog the Captain's breastical implants.

There was just one little side effect. Every time the Commander sneezed, the Captain's implants had 10 KB erased. Within a month, there was little left to the once glorious 1/2 and 2/2. Soon, they were nothing to sneeze at.

In the distance, one could hear the Guardian saying, "All is... as it was."

And so the moral of this little story is: "Never look a gift breast in the mouth, for no one nose what will happen."

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