Synopsis: This tale continues the adventures of Danni — a 'victim' of the Morphic Adaptation Unit who now resembles the Seven of Nine, down to functional Borg implants!

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This story was previously posted to another site, and to the TG Fiction newsgroup. It is here on Big Closet for the first time. Enjoy. There are two more Trek stories done waiting their turn, and I'm working on another sequel.

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This story is copyright by the author. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Danni eased back into the chair, stretching out her long curvy legs, feeling the muscles protesting slightly at the movement. Damn, but even the tiniest motion reminded her of the change. She glanced down between the firm round breasts on _her_ chest. A sigh escaped Danni's lips - a soft, feminine sound passing between full, feminine lips of a body which was undeniably, one hundred percent female.

"I gather that you are contemplating your changes again?" The voice was from Danni's side, where a tall, athletic young lady sat erect. Her hair was straight, black, and severely cropped at her bangs and just above her shoulders. Her upswept eyebrows and pointed ears were easily visible through the stark hairstyle.

Danni sighed yet again. "Yup," she said. "Again." Danni felt a muscle cramping, and involuntarily lifted her arms above her head to stretch. Once more, reminders sounded as she felt her breasts heave with the motion. "You know, Darla," Danni said through a yawn, "I envy you. Really I do." She knew, without looking, that one of Darla's eyebrows had just crept upward. "You don't have these damned emotions to contend with."

Darla canted her head ever so slightly. "True. You also neglected to mention that my adjustments do not include your need to familiarize yourself with having also changed sex."

Danni permitted a brief laugh to escape. "Vulcans have a knack for saying the obvious."

"Indeed," Darla commented dryly. "And yet Humans seem to _need_ constant reminders of the obvious."

Danni closed her eyes, ignoring the stares from across the convention's Green Room. This room was a sanctuary for panelists and guests, a place off-limits to the regular convention-goer. Still, a lot of the panels were comprised of science-fiction fans. And naturally, they were curious about seeing _her_ in the Green Room. _Her_, together with a girl who was seemed to be a model Vulcan impersonator. "They're staring again, aren't they?" she asked needlessly.

Darla glanced around the room in a slow, graceful, and very obvious gesture. "Yes, they are staring. As you have discovered, they are probably laboring under the misconception that you are the true Jeri Ryan."

Danni sighed. "And I can't disappoint a fan, can I?" She laughed. "Too bad I can't use the damned box on myself." Almost a year earlier, at a different science fiction convention, Danny, a promising _male_ PhD student of nanotechnology, had discovered a strange box. Unknown to Danny or his roommate, it was an alien device known as a Morphic Adaptation Unit, and when Danny used it to become, not Jeri Ryan, but Seven of Nine, the machine complied.

"If your knowledge of Seven of Nine had not been so complete when you modeled the body for the initial transformation, that would not be a problem at this time. You would not have had the Borg implants, nor the Borg defensive shields that prevented restoring you to your old form."

Danni sighed. "You don't have to remind me," she said softly. "But then, if I didn't have the Borg implants, I wouldn't have been able to get the device working again." She shook her head.

Darla raised her eyebrow, much like the expression made famous by Spock on the original Trek series. "You present an interesting conundrum. If you were not partially Borg, the device would have allowed you to changed back, but you could not operate the device past the device's allotted time limit. With the Borg implants, you are able to operate the device, but the implants shield you from the device's actions, preventing you from changing back."

Danni sighed. "I've done the permutations, Darla," she protested. "Either way, I would have been stuck. Either as Jeri Ryan, or as Seven."

Darla nodded. "That is a logical conclusion," she agreed. "I have noticed an increase in your logic. Did you include the emotional dampening implants in your reference design?" She talked about the way Danni had used the MAU to design his Seven of Nine body the way others might describe basic electronic circuits or software — as if it were merely an engineering design exercise.

Danni nodded. "Of course," she said softly. She opened her eyes and looked at Darla. "Are you sure _you_ don't want to change back?"

Darla seemed puzzled. "Why would I wish to resume my original form?" she asked. "Being Vulcan is replete with advantages over a Human form. It would not be logical to revert to my original body."

"You and just about everyone else," Danni laughed. "It is regrettable that I didn't figure out how to interface with the device earlier. It might have saved some of the changees a bit of ... trouble." Seven months after the change, Danni, with a sudden inspiration, tried to use her Borg implants to interface directly with the device. It worked, and she could now control the device completely.

"Has anyone elected to revert?"

Danni shook her head. "Only the one Sisko. I've had a few dozen request to change."

Darla opened her mouth to reply, but a disturbance at the door cut her off. Four large men and one smaller man, all wearing full Klingon battle armor and appearing to wear proper Klingon makeup, were trying to enter the room. The poor lad designated as the guard, who'd spent most of his time drooling over Danni's luscious form, was making a gallant but futile stand to stop them. In short order, he was dangling upside down, held by one Klingon warrior like a rag doll.

"Ah!" Mike called from the door in his gruff Klingon-accented voice. "I knew you'd be here!" The 'guard' was dropped and the Klingons entered the Green Room over his feeble protests, marching directly to Danni.

"Hi, Mike," Danni said easily. "Where's Sandy?" Sandy was Mike's wife. Sandy had been a random encounter at the original convention, a girl who just happened to want to be a Klingon. Mike had used the device to transform her into a Klingon woman, and after they had become stuck, they had eventually settled into an interesting, if unconventional, marriage.

Mike let out a roar of laughter. "Leaving me in peace for a change."

"I assume there is a reason you breached protocol and entered the Green Room," Darla said with not a trace of emotion in her voice.

Mike glanced at Darla, then roared again. "Vulcans!" He glanced at his compatriots. "Imagine having no passion! No feeling!" The Klingons bellowed their laughter at what they perceived to be Darla's plight. After his laughs died down, Mike turned to Danni. "We have a minor problem."

"Oh?" Danni glanced around, and soon realized what the problem might be. He gazed at the one person among the Klingons who seemed out of place.

"Exactly," Mike answered. "He wishes to join." Mike turned his head to glare at the smaller man.

At first glance, all the Klingons seemed the same - silvery battle armor over their dark outfits, darker skin, and the ridged forehead characteristic of the Star Trek aliens. But on closer examination, the differences started to show. The armor worn Mike and his men had a definite metallic look. The smaller man's armor looked plastic. The small man's clothing fit less well, and looked to be of much lower quality. Finally, and most prominently, the small man wore a prosthetic headpiece, that while applied with care, still was noticeable as artificial. However, on Mike and the other Klingons, it was impossible to see the lines of the prosthetic headpiece — because the device had made them _real_ Klingons, complete to the bony bumps and ridges. No makeup was necessary.

Danni looked at the newcomer, who seemed to be trying to look proud and defiant. "You wish to ... change?"

The newcomer glared around the Klingons, then stared evenly at Danni. "Yes. I'm worthy."

Mike snorted derisively. "He knows _nothing_ of being a warrior! He has no _heart_!"

The newcomer stood toe-to-toe with Mike, looking up at the larger man. "You may test that assumption at your convenience," he snarled. Despite his attempted show of bravado, he seemed unsure of himself. All bluster aside, he _was_ intimidated by Mike. And it showed.

Mike glowered at the man, then tilted his head back and roared with laughter. "You may yet make a warrior!"

Darla rose silently and gracefully. "I must return to William," she said evenly. "We have many arrangements to complete. I trust you will be present?"

Danni nodded. "I wouldn't miss the ceremony for anything." She extended her hand upward, her fingers splitting. "Live long and prosper."

Darla's eyes opened fractionally, then she nodded. "And you. Live long and prosper." With an economy of motion, she turned and strode from the room.

Danni turned back to Mike, then stood. "You know the rules," she said easily.

Mike nodded solemnly and glanced around his warriors. "We all vouch for him."

Danni nodded. "Very well." She turned to the newcomer.

"But there is a problem," Mike continued, interrupting Danni's train of thought.

"Oh?"

Mike glanced around. "We number nearly two dozen," he explained quickly. "But there is no balance."

Danni turned, glancing knowingly at each of the Klingons in turn, then she looked at Mike. "Do you think he would agree to those terms?"

The newcomer watched, puzzled. "What terms?" he finally asked.

Mike glared down at the man. "We number eighteen men and only five women."

The man looked at Mike for a moment, digesting the data. Then he paled. "You mean...?" He could not complete the question.

Mike nodded. "Even our women are better warriors than you are," he added.

The young man glanced at Danni, his eyes pleading. "But...?"

Danni shook her head. "It is entirely a matter of the Empire. You must abide by their rules." She saw the uncertainty in his eyes.

Mike clasped his large hand on the young man's shoulders. "If you are a warrior - a true warrior of Klinzhai - the shape of your body does not matter. Only the contents of your heart."

The young man looked down, unable to hold Mike's gaze. "I ... I'll have to think about it," he said. He turned, then he looked up at Danni. "It'd be on a trial basis, right? I mean, I could change back, right?"

Danni nodded slowly. "Changing back is possible," she confirmed.

"But if you were to do so," Mike said threateningly, "you would prove that you are no warrior. You would _never_ be a true Klingon!"

The young man glanced up at Mike, then he nodded and shuffled out of the room.

Danni shook her head as she watched him go. "Looks like you scared off another one," she observed.

Mike shook his head. "No," he answered. "He will return. I have seen his heart. He is a warrior. His passion to be a true Klingon warrior is strong."

**********

The steady hum of her portable regeneration unit had a tranquilizing effect on Danni. She lay on her bed, her breathing shallow, as the unit hummed beneath her head, its circular cranial interface swirling with chaotic discharges of electricity that looked like a lightening storm at its peak. And yet, through this man-made chaos, energy was channeled into Danni, into her Borg implants, re-energizing them and revitalizing her. At first, the need to regenerate had been eerie, even frightening. Danni hadn't realized that, with functional Borg implants, she _needed_ to regerate. Fortunately, the implants as Danny had imagined them included a vast storehouse of advance data. By figuring out how to interface to and extract that embedded data, Danni had used her engineering skills to construct a regeneration unit. Now that she was used to it, Danni found regerating more refreshing than any sleep she'd ever experienced. It was just another price she paid for having been so damned thorough in using the device to change to Seven of Nine.

Shortly after she constructed her primary regeneration unit, Danni had found it necessary to construct a portable unit. Mike, Sandy, and Danni travelled frequently to conventions. Since Mike was quite wealthy, he had ample resources. More to the point, the first encounter with the device had left over two dozen Trek fans changed. Out of a sense of responsibility, Mike and Danni were doing everything they could to help them adjust, including gathering as often as possible at conventions. A long convention without regeneration was too fatiguing.

The knock on the door caused her eyes to snap open. For a brief moment, she considered the source of the disturbance. Then the knock sounded again. Danni took a deep breath, then slowly lifted her head from the regenerator. "Please wait a moment," she called toward the door as she sat up.

Danni noted that the unit had switched off automatically as she stood. She glanced down at her jumpsuit and smoothed it, carefully avoiding the prominent curves of her breasts. Satisfied, she strode from the bedroom, closing the door behind her, into the 'living room' of the suite. Without even bothering to glance at the security peephole, she opened the door.

It was the young man, with Mike at his side. "I'm sorry to interrupt you," he said nervously.

"Please, come in," Danni invited. "I was just ... resting." She had no fear of the young man; she knew her own body was a well-honed weapon should he prove in the least bit threatening. Danni didn't know it was a function of her Borg implants, or her adjustment to them, but she found herself automatically assessing _every_ new situation for potential threats. Danni quickly dismissed any potential threats from the young man; he seemed uneasy and more likely to flee than to attack. And Mike, her former roommate and best friend, was there to help protect her should the need arise. Mike flopped down in a chair. Danni gestured to another chair, indicating the young man should sit.

Danni laughed to herself as she sat down. Being in this body had its advantages. Convention organizers believed that she _was_ Jeri Ryan, and as such, they went to great lengths to make her stays at conventions comfortable. Such as the suite she occupied.

"You aren't really ... Jeri Ryan," the young man said, trying to be polite and conversant.

"No," Danni answered evenly. "I am not."

"And those ... implants? Are they ... real?"

Danni smiled thinly. "I am partially Borg," she answered, eliciting a reaction of mixed awe and fear. "Yes. They are not merely decorative." She narrowed her eyes. "You have not told me your name."

The young man flinched, then seemed embarrassed. "Sorry," he apologized quickly. "Jason. Jason Temple." He shook his head. "You look exactly like her!"

"Thank you. But you didn't come here to talk about me, did you?"

Jason gulped. "Ah, no."

Danni nodded. "You accept the terms of the Empire, correct? Even if it means being female, you wish to be Klingon, right?"

Jason blushed and looked down. "Uh, yeah." He looked up suddenly, his eyes aglow. "It's not like I'm gay or anything," he added sharply. "I just want to be a Klingon!"

Danni smiled, then glanced at Mike. "Mike thought you felt that way." Her smile vanished. "Do you know what it means to change sex? To become female?"

Jason looked down again. "No," he stammered.

Danni stared at the young man, waiting until the silence in the room caused him to look back up at her. "It will be a significant change. There are many challenges associated with such a change. However, the changes to being Klingon are even greater. This is not a gag, or a prank. This is real. Down to every fiber of your being, it is a complete transformation." She saw him gulp again. "Are you certain you wish to go through with this?"

Jason's eyes were wide as he contemplated her words. "Yes," he squeaked weakly. "I need to be a Klingon."

Mike roared triumphantly. "I _told_ you he had the heart of a Klingon warrior!" he announced with a grin as he clapped Jason's shoulder, nearly knocking over the smaller man. Jason smiled nervously at the compliment.

Danni nodded, then she rose abruptly. "There is one thing we must do first," she said. "Please wait here." She and Mike went back to her bedroom, locking the door quietly behind them. Danni sat down in a chair, then she picked up a curious little gray cube from the nightstand. A data cable stretched from the cube to the suite's computer jack.

"You have checked him?" she asked Mike.

Mike glared at her. "As I said, we all vouch for him."

Danni nodded slowly. "I know. But we have to be careful. You remember those two guys at BaltiCon? They were snooping, and they seemed to know a lot more than they _should_ have."

Mike let his anger fade. "Yeah," he grunted. "You should have let me take care of them."

Danni shook her head. "Keep your friends close. Keep your enemies closer."

Mike chuckled. "Wisdom befitting a warrior." He scowled. "But I doubt they're going to let up."

Danni nodded solemnly. "I asked the Collective to find out what they could about him." Danni referred to a software development alliance that had formed around a guy she'd accidentally assimilated. He'd become Borg, like her. And now, he and his 'associates' in a company called 'The Collective' were rapidly dominating the software industry. Danni knew that the Collective was really a Borg hive, a communal mind linked just like in the Star Trek shows.

Mike noted her scowl. "And?"

"Nothing." Danni shook her head. "It's like they don't exist anywhere! Not even in the government systems."

Mike frowned. "If the Collective can't find out anything, then maybe they doesn't really exist."

"Well, we haven't seem them for a couple of months, but they exist, all right. And they know a little too much about the box. And whoever sent them — I doubt we've heard the last of them. If those two couldn’t get answers, they may try to send different tactics." The two men, besides appearing to be a science fiction fans, seemed to know that there was a box, somewhere, that could change people. They was referring to the Morphic Adaptation Unit that had changed Danni, Mike, and many others. Mike had been ready to brag to the man, but Danni had sensed something wrong. She convinced her small circle of friends, including Mike, Sandy, Darla, and several others, to remain tight-lipped about the box.

As Mike stretched, Danni held out her arm toward the small black cube box she held in her left hand. Almost faster than eyes could follow, two tubes appeared from her right forearm, shooting out and intersecting the small cube. Danni's eyes got a far-off look as she focused on the cube. For several long moments, she sat silently, holding the cube. Finally, the tubes retracted, and Danni set the cube back on the nightstand.

Mike laughed. "That sure beats the hell out of using a keyboard and mouse!"

Danni shrugged. "It took a while to get used to it, but now I prefer the direct interface."

"I wish you could teach me to do that," Mike joked.

Danni shrugged, then held out her arm toward Mike. The tubes shot out toward him, stopping at a length of about 8 inches, and well shy of contacting his body.

"Not like that!"

Danni retracted the assimilation tubes. "You can't say I didn't offer," she said with a wry smile.

"Well?"

Danni shrugged. "Jason Temple is precisely who he claims to be. Twenty-three years old, mathematics degree from Purdue, member of the fan club since he was nine."

"And?"

Danni shrugged. "No significant attachments. There is no reason not to accept him."

As the two returned to the living room, Jason glanced up nervously at them. His eyes were fearful, wondering if he'd passed some kind of test or if he'd be rejected. He also showed, for all to see, his nervousness at the changes he was asking to undergo. "Well?" he asked after the silence became unbearable to him.

Mike glared down at him, then tilted his head back and roared, a loud, soulful cry toward the heavens. As the wail died, he glanced back at Jason. "I was warning the Empire that a new warrior was about to join them!" he bellowed.

Danni nodded. "Kind of a 'birth howl', instead of the 'death howl' from the Next Gen," she explained. Despite a professed lack of interest, she was learning a great deal about the Klingons through nearly constant contact.

Jason stood nervously, then relief flooded his face. "So you're going to let me be ... a Klingon?"

Danni reached back into her bedroom and pulled out what appeared to be a gray metallic attache case. As Jason watched, rapt in curiosity, she set it down, then reached her wrist toward it. The two tubes shot out, intersecting the alien-looking metal. Within moments, the box began to grow, stretching until it was the size of a large telephone booth.

"Those ... you really _are_ Borg!" Jason exclaimed, trying to contain the emotion in his voice. "You could have assimilated me!" Then his eyes widened. "Those stories ... about World Con? They're ... true? You _did_ assimilate a guy?"

Danni nodded slowly. "I told you that I was fully Borg."

Jason's eyes couldn't widen any further. Then a grin appeared. "Cool!" he exclaimed.

Danni smiled to herself. Jason had just proven, beyond any doubt, that he was a true Star Trek and science fiction fan. She easily turned the large box; the side that ended up facing Jason had few features, but those were far more than the other blank sides. A black rectangular panel, about the size of a sheet of paper, seemed to be inset into the metal at about eye level. Below it, a red crystalline pad protruded like a reverse impression of a dinosaur footprint. And finally, a purple crystal knob was attached - somehow - beside the red pad. Jason stood and examined the curious features.

Danni reached out toward the pad, and her assimilation tubes shot out again. Within seconds, a Klingon figure appeared on the black panel, which was obviously a display. From the ridged crest on the forehead to the armor on the body, the display showed a Klingon. And from the cleavage on the front of the armor, the image was female.

Jason gulped. "So what do I do?" he asked uneasily.

Mike shrugged, as if to belittle his confusion. He seemed to have forgotten his own confusion when he'd first used the MAU many months ago.

Danni, however, knew that Jason needed guidance. "You merely touch the pad, and you will be able to customize the body to what you desire."

"And it will be Klingon? I mean, really Klingon?" Jason asked.

Danni smiled. "I programmed the basic parameters of Klingon physiology into the unit. You can tailor the body, but it will remain Klingon." She glanced at Mike. "Darla suggested that it would be more 'logical' to control the parameters that way than to rely on each individual's interpretation."

Mike laughed. "Sensible. For a Vulcan!"

Jason drew back his hand and stared at the display. Danni saw the motion and glanced at what he'd done. "Are you sure?" she asked, seeing the image.

Jason gulped again, then nodded weakly. "If I have to be a female Klingon to fit in, then I might as well do it right." He glanced at Danni.

Danni smiled. She touched the interface device for a moment. There was no visible change, and Jason looked puzzled when she glanced at him. "I added some muscle strength and tone to the back muscles to help accommodate the extra ... load," she said with a smile. "Trust me — you're going to need it!"

Jason gulped. "Now what?"

Danni pointed to the knob. "Touch the purple control." Jason tentatively touched the knob, and flinched visibly when half the side disappeared, forming an opening.

"Now what?"

Danni pointed inside. "Step in, and then touch the knob you find there. The machine will complete the transformation within ten to fifteen seconds."

Jason glanced at Mike, and saw the Klingon looking disdainfully at him, as if Mike expected Jason to chicken out. Jason squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and stepped into the MAU. The door disappeared as soon as he touched the purple knob.

A few seconds later, the opening reappeared. Slowly, hesitantly, a Klingon woman emerged, her mouth hanging agape as she held her very large bosoms. For several seconds, she stood, still, shocked at her transformation. Then she looked up at Danni.

Danni nodded, then she touched the plate, causing the box to restow itself into its compact form.

Mike, on the other hand, stared wide-eyed at the new woman. She was a magnificent specimen of Klingon womanhood, with large breasts that threatened to burst forth from her armor. Her cleavage showed a gaping crevasse, an inviting channel for the stares of men. Her waist was somewhat narrowed, and her hips were definitely no longer shaped like a man's.

"Wow!" the former Jason exclaimed softly. "This is _real_!" He - she - touched her breasts gingerly, wanting to explore her new body and yet almost afraid to. Her voice, though gruff like a Klingon, was higher in pitch and more feminine. A shudder coursed up her spine. "Something's not right," she suddenly blurted as she glanced at Danni. "I feel warm." She shook her head. "Something's not right."

Danni glanced at Mike. "You better wait outside," she cautioned. "Unless you want Sandy to get angry again."

Mike considered her advice for a moment, then he nodded in agreement. "My mate _is_ a bit possessive and jealous, isn't she!" He laughed and hastened from the room.

When he was gone, Danni looked back at Jason. "Better?"

Jason took a breath, then nodded. "Yeah." She shook her head. "What was that?"

Danni laughed. "You're a Klingon woman. Klingon women are much more ... passionate ... than humans."

Jason frowned. "You mean ... I was ...?"

Danni nodded. "You were feeling aroused by the presence of a male and the pheremones he was giving off."

"But that means I'm ... " Jason looked near tears.

Danni shook her head. "No. It means your body is reacting according to Klingon physiology. Female Klingon physiology." She gently pushed Jason down into a chair. "Now, we have a few things to talk about."

"Like what?"

Danni laughed. "First of all, Jason doesn't fit you any more. You need a new name. A _woman's_ name. Because you _are_ a woman now."

Jason started. "No!" she screamed as she struck out senselessly at Danni.

Danni knew the blow was coming and easily ducked it. She let Jason flail about wildly for a while before she easily caught Jason's hand. Jason's eyes burned with anger, and she fought against Danni's Borg-enhanced strength. Danni let Jason know that she'd lost, then she pushed her back down into a chair.

For a few seconds, Jason's breathing was wild and erratic, a result of an explosion of anger and adrenaline. Her eyes slowly regained focus, and she forced herself to take a few deep breaths. Finally, she looked back at Danni, her eyes betraying her confusion.

Danni merely smiled. "It will take you time to adjust to being Klingon. Your emotions are more ... exposed, nearer the surface. Your body will surge with adrenaline at the slightest provocation. Your hormones will heighten your emotional reactions."

"But it's ...."

"Your body is reacting in precisely the manner described in media and literary depictions of Klingons. All of SF fandom has woven a rather complex tapestry of Klingon culture and physiology, and your new body conforms to that image."

"But I got so angry ... so quickly!" Jason protested. "And when Mike was here, I was ... horny?"

"Correct." Danni eased herself into a chair. "You will adjust to your new body. At first, it will be strange, but you will adjust."

"But ... I was horny? That means ... I wanted to get laid? My body did?"

Danni smiled. "That's one way to put it."

Jason looked like she was going to be ill. "But ... screwing? Me? Getting laid ... by guys?"

"In the literature, Klingon women are very ... aggressive. The device has adjusted your hormone levels to match that profile. Ultimately, you will adjust," Danni said again, her voice soothing. "As many of us already have."

Jason's eyes widened. "You mean you ...?"

Danni smiled sadly. "I was once male. As you were." She watched Jason accept her data. "And I have adjusted." She nodded slowly. "There is a surprisingly large support group available to help you adjust."

**********

Jaina, as Jason wished to be known, paused inside the door of the party suite. Like most science fiction party rooms, a badge checker was stationed at the door to limit attendance to convention participants. The Klingon badge checker at the door was openly lusting after Jaina's prominent assets. "Are you sure about this?" she asked of Danni.

Danni finished waving at a Trill girl, then smiled. "Relax, Jaina. Everyone here is transformed. Everyone." She gestured at the guard. "If we weren't, we wouldn't have been allowed in."

Jaina glanced at the guard, and saw him staring into her cleavage. She felt a shiver run down her spine. "I suppose. But it feels ... weird!"

Danni grinned. "Hi, T'mor," she called to a Vulcan who was passing.

"I greet you, Danni," the Vulcan answered calmly. "You honor us with your presence."

"Allow me to introduce Jaina," Danni said, grasping Jaina's arm and pulling her into view, and coincidentally, out of leering range of the guard. "Jaina, this is my friend T'mor. T'mor, this is Jaina. She is new to us."

T'mor raised an eyebrow, then nodded deferentially. "You have elected to be a Klingon? I will not pretend to understand the logic of your choice, but it is _your_ choice to make. Live long and prosper."

Jaina nodded at the Vulcan. "I appreciate your wishes," she said cautiously. She grasped Danni's arm as T'mor glided away, seemingly effortlessly. "I don't know if I like this!" she whispered.

"Ah! Here you are!" Mike's voice boomed over the party noise, causing a silence to fall over the revelers. All eyes turned to Mike, and then to Danni and Jaina. Danni led Jaina to Mike's side.

Beside Mike, a Klingon girl stood, tightly clutching his arm. She frowned at Jaina, her eyes narrowing to slits that burned with anger and jealousy. Danni noticed, and leaned closer to Jaina's ear. "You should stay away from Mike," she cautioned. "That's Sandy, his wife, next to him. She's _very_ jealous. And she's had more practice at being Klingon than you have." She watched Jaina's eyes widen at the revelation. "Of course, you could challenge her for her mate, if you'd like."

"Uh, no thanks," Jaina said nervously.

"Jaina has elected to join the ranks of Klingon warriors," Mike roared to the crowd. As one, the assembled Klingon men raised their mugs and roared their approval. The contents, a deep red wine, sloshed around freely, landing on the Klingons, the carpet, and other guests. Not one person, however, seemed to object. Or, more precisely, no one deigned object. Drunk Klingons, as the group had learned, _loved_ to fight.

A goblet was thrust into Jaina's hand. "Let us drink to our new warrior!" one of the Klingons shouted. The Klingons drank deeply again, and Jaina tried to imitate them. She coughed and sputtered as the wine burned down her throat. "What _is_ this stuff?" she croaked to Danni.

Danni laughed. "It's the nearest think to Blood Wine the Klingons can get. Some kind of brandy, I think. If I were you, I'd go easy on that stuff. It's pretty potent."

Jaina nodded, her eyes still wide from the burning in her throat and stomach. "Like I need to be told to take it easy!" she whispered.

Danni smiled and drifted away, leaving Jaina to talk with her new compatriots. There were many in the room — nearly fifty total. Through the months of conventions, people had elected to change to a wide variety of forms. There were the Klingons, and the Vulcans. Romulans. A Ferengi or two. A few Bajorans. An Orion slave girl. A few major characters, like Danni. There was even a shapeshifting Odo around somewhere. Danni accepted a glass of milder spirits from one of the Vulcans.

"Thank you, Stalek," Danni said warmly, even though the emotion was wasted on the Vulcan. She glanced around. "I do not see T'Miri."

"My wife will be here momentarily," the Vulcan explained. Even as he spoke, another Vulcan, a woman, dressed in the long flowing robes so favored by most Vulcans, slipped gracefully through the crowd. She held a large bundle close against her, and as she neared Stalek, she raised her hand.

Stalek returned the greeting, gently touching two of her fingers with his own in a silent but telling gesture of intimacy.

Danni waited until the couple had finished their greetings. She looked carefully at the bundle held by T'Miri.

T'Miri turned to Danni. "I greet you, Danni," she said formally. Then she noticed Danni's gaze fixed on the carefully wrapped bundle she clutched lovingly to her chest. "I judge from your curiosity that you have not heard the news."

"News?" Danni wrinkled her brow. "No, I haven't heard anything. Not since your bonding ceremony."

T'Miri gently unwrapped the coverings from the bundle, revealing, to Danni's shock, a tiny baby Vulcan boy. "I delivered our son last month," she said matter-of-factly.

"He looks adorable," Danni finally stammered. "May I?" T'Miri looked puzzled for the briefest of moments, then she nodded and extended the bundled baby to Danni. Danni cradled the baby in her arms, running her fingers gently across the dark straight hair on his head. "What's his name?" Danni asked without looking up from the resting baby.

T'Miri opened her mouth to speak, but Stalek spoke first. "I hoped we would name him Sarek, in honor of the Ambassador."

T'Miri nodded. "I prefer Surak, in honor of the father of Vulcan. Of course, that name is an illogical choice." She spoke as if everyone knew the reasoning behind her statement. She saw the confused look on Jaina's face. "Naming a child after Surak would place an undue burden on the child to achieve greatness, to live up to the name given him. Such a thought is ... inconceivable. It would be as if we were human and named a after George Washington," she explained.

Danni nodded. "Of course," she answered. She gave the baby one more look, then she handed him gently back to his mother. "I'm surprised you had a child so ... soon."

T'Miri cocked her head to one side. "Your surprise is understandable," she noted. Her voice lowered to something only barely above a whisper. "Undoubtedly, you are surprised that we entered Pon Farr so quickly after our transformation."

Danni nodded. "That's one way to put it." Vulcans mated, through Pon Farr, only once every seven years. These two had only been Vulcan for a few months, and mated for less time. Danni began to suspect that Pon Farr had driven their choice to bond as husband and wife. Of course, it was debated hotly throughout the fan community whether the Vulcans could _only_ mate when in Pon Farr, or whether could mate at other times but were biologically _compelled_ to mate during the Pon Farr.

"Would you like to see me dance?" A green Orion slave girl sidled up to Stalek and looked up at him seductively. "I am _very_ skilled at dancing. And at many other things as well," she added. She began to move her body to the music in an extremely provocative manner, her every motion screaming sensuality. Her eyes contained a burning need, and she licked her lips at Stalek, as if desperate to get his attention.

"You waste your time, slut!" A large Klingon warrior parted the crowd and grasped the dancing girl around the waist, He easily lifted her from her feet, clutching her luscious body tightly against his. "Vulcans are the one race immune to your charms!"

"Let me go!" the girl screamed.

The Klingon laughed. "My _wife_, if you dance for anyone, it will be for me!" he roared, much to the amusement of his fellow warriors. "If anyone ravishes you tonight, it will be me!" He tipped his goblet and, spilling the wine as he drank, guzzled deeply. With a metallic clank, he tossed the now empty goblet aside, then he gazed hungrily at the girl. Even a blind man could have seen the desire building between them. With a roar of passion, the Klingon pulled his 'captive' to one corner.

"What is he doing?" Jaina whispered insistently to Danni. Danni had sensed Jaina's presence, even without having seen her approach. It was just another benefit of the Borg implants and sensors.

Danni looked to the corner, where the Klingon had torn the girl's clothing from her and was fondling her nude body as he struggled to remove his own armor. "I believe he said he was going to ravish his wife," she answered as if reporting the weather.

"But..." Jaina flapped her mouth a few times, clearly confused.

"They are husband and wife," Danni explained.

"But ... in public?" Jaina protested.

Danni shrugged. "He's a Klingon, and she's an Orion girl. They have ... high passions." She smiled. "Besides, with this group, nothing seems strange any more."

"But ... it's making me feel ... weird!" Jaina complained.

Danni laughed. "You'll get used to it." She glanced at the corner again, then at the Klingon men. "As for you, if I were you, I'd have a few quick mugs of wine to dull your senses, or get the hell out of here pronto."

Jaina shook her head. "I don't understand."

Danni smiled. "The Klingons are getting into the spirit of the evening, so to speak. Before long, they're going to be fighting, or doing other ... physical ... activities." Danni saw Jaina's eyes widen. "So your choices are to either get drunk and have fun, or retreat while you still can."

Jaina staggered away from Danni. The look in her eyes showed her inner turmoil. On the one hand, her new Klingon body was hot, sensuous, and more than ready. On the other hand, she was still Jason — sort of — and not ready to have sex in a woman's body. Danni knew it was only a matter of time before her animal instincts won. She hoped Jaina had the sense to get good and drunk first.

"I presume you are leaving," Stalek and T'Miri observed as Danni strode toward the door.

Danni cocked her head toward the Klingons, who were getting increasingly more boisterous and amorous. "I really don't want to fight off drunk horny Klingons tonight."

T'Miri nodded slightly. "Indeed," she commented dryly. "It is late enough that we should put our child to bed. And I have no desire to be in the middle of another of their drunken brawls. Perhaps we should take our leave as well."

**********

The man seemed to be about thirty-five or thirty-six. Trim, neatly dressed, he seemed, somehow, to be a little out of place in the party suite. And he seemed overly fascinated by Danni. She sensed, perhaps through female intuition, that he was trouble.

"You really do look like Seven," the man commented lightly to Danni. "Are you sure you're not really Jeri Ryan in costume?"

Danni shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not," she answered, trying to sound bored.

"Because I've heard that she has put in an appearance or two at some bid parties. Like at WorldCon last year." The man didn't seem to notice that Danni had said anything.

Danni shrugged again. "Nope. Sorry, but I'm just a girl who's lucky enough to look like a star."

The man babbled on. "You know, that's probably the best makeup I've ever seen! Are you going to wear that to the costume contest?"

Danni felt her shoulders stiffen. This guy was annoying, but she wasn't quite sure how to be rid of him. He wasn't taking any hints. "No."

"You should. I bet you'd win!" He snagged a drink from a passing tray. "You want something to drink?" he offered politely. "By the way, my name is Quinton. They call me Quint for short."

Something told Danni to stay put, to sound this guy out, despite the fact that he was annoying the hell out of her. There was something wrong, and she felt a compulsion to get to the bottom of it. "Like the dead captain in Jaws?" she observed.

The man started, then he grinned. "Yeah. Only I don't want to end up like he did!" He glanced over Danni's implants one more time. "I take it you're a big fan of the Borg, right?"

"You could say that."

"I heard someone faked a Borg assimilation at a bid party at World Con. Everyone says it was Jeri Ryan that did it." His eyes were focused, searching. "That wasn't you, was it?"

Danni silently thanked the implants which dampened her emotions. Because of them, her reaction betrayed no guilt or sense of 'gotcha'. "I heard about that, too," she replied lightly. "Sorry, I wish it was me. Everyone says it was pretty realistic."

Quint sighed. "I'd hoped I'd met the genius who pulled that off." He shook his head. "Of course," he added in a low whisper, as if confiding a state secret, "others say it was done with some kind of alien technology, and that the guy really did become a Borg."

Danni felt her heart race, and she had to concentrate on remaining calm. "Really?" she asked. "You know, you're not the first one who's suggested that."

Quint's eyebrows raised. "Oh?"

It was Danni's turn to study Quint. "Yeah. A couple of guys were asking a lot of annoying questions at a con last December. They were a royal pain in the rear. They seemed to be focused on people like me who like to dress up as their favorite series character or actor." She shook her head disdainfully. "They were really annoying!"

Quint's eyes narrowed just a tiny fraction. "I suppose that would be a pain," he agreed. He lowered his voice again. "I'm glad I wasn't there in my Romulan outfit. It's tiring when non-fans keep making comments about those of us who like to wear costumes."

Danni started to ask why Quint wasn't in costume at the moment, then she thought better of it. She'd noticed that Quint had mentioned non-fans, when she hadn't said anything.

Quint took a sip of his drink. "You know," he whispered, barely audible above the crowd noise in the very packed party suite, "sometimes I wish I could find some kind of alien box that could change me into a _real_ Romulan!" He had a wistful look on his face. "That would be like a dream come true."

Danni took a measured breath. "I suppose it would be really fun," she observed. "But it might be hard to deal with in mundane life."

Quint watched her for another second, then he seemed to accept that she had nothing to tell him. His tone shifted abruptly. "Well, I've probably bored you long enough. I think I'll check out some of the other bid parties."

Danni forced a smile. "They've got some great hors d'ouvres at the 'Minneapolis in 72' party. You should give that a try."

"Thanks," Quint answered with a smile. "I'll have to check it out."

Without being obvious, Danni watched his face, his reaction to the ongoing joke bid party. She saw exactly what she expected. When he glanced away, Danni slid through the crowd, quickly losing Quint, and she began to search for someone she knew.

**********

Even before she snapped the light on, Danni's senses were on heightened alert. Something wasn't right. She flipped the switch and scanned the room quickly. Satisfied it was empty of obvious threats, Danni rescanned, much slower and taking in more detail. She repeated the process in her bedroom and bath. Satisfied at last that her room was empty, she picked up her phone and dialed a couple of numbers.

It took only moments for a knock to sound at the door. Danni opened it, admitting Darla.

"Problem?" Darla asked quickly.

Danni nodded. "Someone searched my room."

Darla's eyebrow shot up. "You are certain?"

"Yes. My implants give me the ability to note things that ... normal humans do not. Such as minute differences in the locations of my ... things. There was a heat pattern in the room that indicated someone had been present. The bathroom door.was approximately two centimeters further open than I'd left it. My bedroom door was closed, when I'd left it open." She nodded grimly. "It was probably searched while I was at the parties earlier."

"You suspect someone," Darla observed quickly.

Another knock sounded, and Danni paused to let Mike in. "Uh huh," she answered Darla's question. She quickly scanned her memory, and settled on Quint and his annoying behavior as the most likely suspect. "There was a guy named Quint at the BaltiCon party that was behaving oddly."

"I take it you mean that he was asking inappropriate questions," Mike snarled.

Danni nodded. "He was using ... mundane jargon. My guess is that he was _pretending_ to be a fan."

"Why?"

Mike frowned. "The box, I bet."

Danni's solemn nod affirmed his guess. "He said a few things that indicated that he knew about the box — and what it can do. My guess is he was trying to locate it."

"And that's why he searched your room," Mike added.

"He didn't find it?" Darla asked the obvious question.

Danni shook her head, then picked up her laptop computer. "It's nice to know that in addition to altering the appearance of others, it is capable of altering its own appearance," she said with a smile. Her assimilation tubes shot out to the laptop, and in moments, it had resumed its original form of the plain gray alien box with the strange symbols.

"So what do we do?" Mike asked.

Danni glanced at Darla, then she looked back at Mike. "I don't know," she answered softly. "I guess we should be careful."

**********

"You _really_ can do that for us?" The guy, Gary, could barely contain the excitement in his voice, even though he was obviously trying to keep himself from being disappointed. He glanced at his girlfriend Elissa, seeing the hope in her eyes as well.

Danni glanced at Mike, then back at Gary. "It is possible. But it will not be as easy as you expect."

Elissa frowned. "I'm not sure I understand ..."

Mike roared with laughter. "Such a change is not like putting on a costume!" he chuckled. "It is a change to your very being. To everything that you are."

Elissa's eyes widened. "You mean I'd really be ... Vulcan?" she asked softly.

Danni nodded. "That is correct."

"Cool!" Elissa glanced quickly at Gary, and then she smiled. "Could it, you know, switch us?"

Danni nodded, watching the confusion on the guy's face. "Yes," she answered simply.

"So it could make _me_ into Trip? And Gary into T'Pol?"

Gary's jaw dropped. "What?" he asked, stunned. "We said we'd be ..."

"Trip and T'Pol," Elissa concluded. "We didn't say who would be which!" she added with a grin.

"But that's ... weird!"

"Not really," Danni said nonchalantly. "Just yesterday, a guy wanted to be changed into Sheba. You know, Commander Cain's daughter from Battlestar Galactica."

"But me ... as T'Pol?" Gary asked again. He shook his head. "I don't know. It just sounds too ...."

"Oh, come on!" Elissa said, suddenly going into charm mode, batting her eyes at him and pleading in a soft, seductive voice. "It'll be fun! We can ... be creative!" It was obvious she was trying to use the lure of her sex appeal to persuade him.

"It may not be practical to use T'Pol's form for the ... purposes you have in mind," Danni cautioned. The girl stopped her charm offensive, and Gary's eyes widened. "Vulcans are ... Vulcan. Completely."

Elissa's jaw dropped. "So that means ..."

Danni nodded solemnly. "A person changed into a Vulcan pattern essentially _is_ Vulcan."

Elissa wrinkled her nose. "Once every seven years? And no desire to be cuddly?" She shook her head. "Ouch! I guess T'Pol is out."

Gary seemed to breath a sigh of relief. "Well, I guess ...."

"Hoshi!" Elissa suddenly called out, her face bright again. "You can be Hoshi!"

"But ..." Gary glanced at Danni, then at Mike, his eyes pleading. He realized that he was going to get no support from either of them. "I don't want to be the girl!" he complained weakly.

Elissa sidled up close again, using her feminine charms. "Oh, come on! I know you've dreamed about it! You told me!" Gary glanced quickly down even as his cheeks reddened. "It'd be fun!"

Gary knew he was going to lose. He decided to surrender with honor. "Okay. We'll try." He looked up sharply at Danni. "But we can change back, right? Tomorrow night?"

Danni nodded, ignoring Elissa's tiny gestures to say no. "If you are not satisfied with your new forms, you will be able to revert before the convention is over. After that, I will provide contact information so you will be able to get in touch with me."

Gary sighed. "Okay," he sighed. "How ... how does this work?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Danni opened the box. "Touch the pad and think about the character you desire. When the image on the screen is complete, you will be able to enter the device and be changed."

Elissa's eyes were burning with excitement. "Me first!" she said. She touched the pad and closed her eyes to concentrate. In seconds, Trip's image was displayed on the screen. "Now what?" she asked.

Danni touched the purple knob, and the opening appeared in the box. "Enter the device and touch the knob on the inside. The transformation is automatic once you touch the knob."

Elissa glanced at Gary, then she stepped into the box. She drew a deep breath, held it, and touched the knob.

Gary's eyes widened with surprise and a bit of fear as the opening vanished. He glanced nervously at Danni, and took a bit of reassurance from the fact that she seemed calm. Moments later, the door opened. Gary's jaw dropped open when Trip stepped out.

Elissa's eyes were wide open, and she was tentatively touching her new body, feeling the way her 'Enterprise' uniform hung and fit her new masculine body. "I'm really Trip?" she asked, her voice nearly trembling and her face registering surprise at the sound coming out of her mouth.

Danni nodded. "Completely."

Elissa trembled. "This is ... kind of spooky!" she said softly. Then she glanced at Gary and grinned. "Your turn!"

Gary gulped, then he stepped to the pad. With a bit of effort, mostly because his case of nerves was making it difficult to concentrate, he got Hoshi's image displayed. He touched the knob, and the opening appeared. Gary started to step inside, but he paused to glance at Elissa. His eyes were filled with uncertainty and nervousness.

"Go on," Elissa said sternly. "I did my part."

Gary swallowed again, then he nodded slightly. The door vanished, and when it reappeared, Hoshi stepped forth. More precisely, Gary stepped out in Hoshi's body, complete down to her 'Enterprise' uniform and the styling of her hair.

If Gary had appeared nervous before entering the device, he looked terrified now. He was examining his body, noting the curves on his chest. It was obvious that he wanted to touch them to confirm the change, but that he was terrified of actually discovering that they were real. He looked up at Elissa — Trip — and looked like he was going to cry.

"You look ... beautiful!" Elissa said in admiration. She — he — trembled as her new male body started reacting to the appearance of Gary. "Uh," she said hesitantly, "I think there's something wrong with this."

"Uh ... yeah," Gary whispered. He flinched at the softness, the femininity of his new voice. "I feel really ... weird! Like there's something wrong! This is weird!"

Danni nodded and smiled. "You were both rather ... excited ... at the prospect of changing for some ... exploration. Now that you _have_ changed, your bodies are reacting to the each other's pheromones. You," she looked at Gary, "are not used to female hormones or the feelings of sexual stimulation. And you," she turned to Elissa, "are not used to a _male_ body. It will take you some time to adjust to your new bodies. I would strongly suggest you spend some time getting used to them before you go out in public. Or the reactions could be ... embarrassing."

Trip glanced at her and grinned, her eyebrows raising and lowering quickly in a sign of anticipation. Gary merely nodded. "That sounds like a good idea."

Mike looked like he was going to laugh as the pair left the room, but Danni shot him a warning glance. Only after the door was closed behind them did she smile.

"Ten minutes," Mike said with certainty.

Danni smiled. "That's a sucker bet. You saw the look in her eyes." She thought for a moment. "Twenty. He's terrified. It'll take her a little while to get past his fears."

Mike laughed. "But she's the dominant one, remember? She's _used_ to having her way with him. I don't think this is going to be any different."

"Good point."

"Think he'll want to change back?" Mike snickered.

Danni shrugged. "I have my doubts. But we'll have to wait and see." She glanced at her watch, a totally unnecessary gesture since her implants included an extremely accurate chronometer. Still, lifelong habits were hard to break. "Have we got any more?"

Mike nodded. "A Padme Amidala and an Anakin Skywalker."

Danni's eyes widened in anticipation. "Straight, or with a gender swap?"

Mike shrugged. "Does it matter?"

Danni smiled. "I guess not." She grinned. "But I think the changes are more ... interesting."

"And one Princess Leia."

Danni shook her head. "A lot of Star Wars this time," she commented, her voice almost sad.

Mike picked up her feelings from the tone of her voice. "The movie just came out. What do you expect?" He grinned. "Wait until 'Nemesis' comes out," he added, referring to the upcoming Star Trek movie. "I bet we'll get a lot of requests then." He smiled. "And Leia — it's a guy making that request.."

Danni laughed. "You don't mind the guys changing into girls, do you? Is it just because you Klingons want to ravish another Earth girl?"

Mike roared with laughter. "Maybe some of the others! But Earth girls are too ... fragile!" He grinned broadly. "And sometimes I think that _you_ enjoy the guys changing because you enjoy watching them adapt like you had to!"

**********

"I'm ready for the party circuit," Danni sighed as the new Princess Leia practically skipped out of the room. The guy had chosen to be the older Princess Leia that was Jabba's captive, complete down to the bikini and chains, although Danni was reasonably certain that he'd exaggerated her breasts by a cup size or so. Danni ignored the inaccuracy. She'd long ago ceased questioning the choices some fans made.

Darla studied Danni carefully. "You appear to be fatigued."

Danni sighed, then she nodded. "I did not regenerate last evening."

"Why not?"

Danni shook her head slowly. "I seem to have misplaced my regeneration unit."

Mike frowned. "Or it was stolen," he said ominously.

Danni shook her head. "I don't think so," she said, but her voice echoed with uncertainty. "I do not _lose_ things," she said. "I couldn't find it after I discovered that my room had been searched."

Darla's eyebrow raised. "How much longer before you must regenerate?"

Danni winced. "Two or three days. Not much longer." She sighed. "I'll be home before regeneration becomes mandatory. I have the permanent unit there." She turned to the box and shot out her assimilation tubes. "Time to put you away for the night," she said, talking to the inanimate box as if it were a living entity. Almost instantly, the box began to shrink from its phone-booth size to the compact attache case dimensions it had when stowed.

"Danni!" Mike's voice was harsh, as if sounding a warning.

Danni spun. "What?" She followed Mike's gaze out the window, and across the street — to where drapes were fluttering in the next building. Danni felt a stir of panic. "Company?"

Mike nodded. "You think it's the same guy?"

Danni's lips were pursed tightly together, her face pale and serious. "Probably." She swore under her breath. "I'm willing to bet it is. He was a little too curious about the box. But whoever it is knows we've got the device."

Mike frowned. "You want me and the boys to catch him?"

Danni shook her head slowly. "No. If he's half as smart as I think he is, he's long gone." She picked up her black 'modem' cube and interfaced with it. "I should have done this last night." For several minutes, she stood silent, plugged into the network through her Borg interface. Finally, as Mike began to fret, she set the cube down.

"Problem?" Mike asked quickly, reading the expression on her face.

Danni nodded. "The Collective couldn't find a name to match with his face. Or anything else. The guy who registered in the room doesn't exist." She grimaced. "The Collective found no records of him in any database. Even in the restricted government systems."

"That's impossible! The only way those records couldn't exist is if they'd been erased! And the only group that could do that is ... the Collective!"

Darla nodded. "There are other possibilities. His identity might have never been entered into any official records database. Any records of him might be in a standalone system that cannot be accessed by the Collective."

Danni sank onto her bed. "It's got to be that," she decided quickly. "I just interfaced with the Collective. If they had done it, I'd know."

Mike nodded slowly. "So that means some very secretive agency. What do we do?"

Danni shook her head. "I don't know. All I _do_ know is that we can't let the government get their hands on the box."

"You fear that the government would use it for nefarious purposes?" Darla asked needlessly. "Given the events of the past two days, I am forced to agree with your conclusion. We must protect the secret."

"Apprehend and assimilate?" Mike suggested.

Darla looked at Mike with an expression that seemed to convey both disdain and surprise. "If the man is an agent of the government, and if he were to disappear, undoubtedly replacements will be sent. The advantage we how hold is that we know who this person is, and can avoid him. We need to find out how much he knows to determine how much of a threat this secretive agency is."

Mike nodded. "That sounds reasonable. But I'd suggest you take the box and go to the ranch. For safekeeping."

"And if he follows me?" Danni didn't sound worried.

Mike grinned. "Then he'll be playing in _our_ sandbox."

**********

Danni glanced over her shoulder one last time. There was no doubt but that the man, Quint, was following her. He'd followed her on the plane trip to Sheridan, Wyoming, trying to stay discreet but failing miserably thanks to Danni's Borg-enhanced senses. When she rented an SUV for the drive to the 'ranch', he followed her as well. She'd been rather reckless in her driving, counting on her enhanced senses to stay out of trouble, since she was alone in the vehicle and the ranch country around Sheridan was sparsely populated. As she skidded to a halt beside the main gate, she spied a dust cloud about a mile away. It was still Quint, following her, and a few minutes behind. Danni grabbed her duffel bag and the box from the passenger seat and alit from the big vehicle.

The gate was a massive affair, made of metal bars and heavy beams and easily topping ten feet in height. It was reinforced like something in King Kong — or Jurassic Park. On either side, stretching into the distance, the fence seemed ill-matched to the gate, consisting only of six-foot high woven wire panels attached to steel posts. Danni grinned — appearances definitely _were_ deceiving at the ranch. She ignored the warning signs and stepped to the gate. Set into the massive metal frame was a small door, a portal for human-sized beings. Danni reached for the door, flinching a bit as an energy field tickled her skin. She easily opened the door and stepped through, shivered as the field danced across her entire body.

"Oh, it's you!"

Danni turned at the snarling voice, then she grinned. "Who else could get through the field?" she laughed.

The Klingon grinned. "Mike warned us you would be coming. He said you are being followed." He glanced through the gaps in the gate, quickly focusing on the dust cloud. "What should we do with him?" he asked, almost grinning with anticipation of some type of violent encounter.

"Let him in."

The Klingon laughed. "The bears and Targs will appreciate the feast!"

Danni smiled. "No. Keep him alive." She saw the Klingon's expression fall. "Let the beasts have some sport, but keep him alive."

**********

"I would speak with you!" The sound from the door of her room was harsh, typical of the Klingons.

Danni glanced up from her desk, where she was sitting interfaced to the computer cube. She withdrew the assimilation tubes, breaking the connection. "Very well." She stared at the Klingon for a moment. "You are known as Kleng, correct?"

"Correct." The Klingon stepped into her room, then glanced behind himself. He seemed nervous to Danni. "You may close the door if you desire privacy," she offered.

Kleng nodded, then he closed the door. "Things are not ... going well."

Danni felt her eyes widen in surprise. "Oh? You are unhappy at being Klingon and wish to change back?" Her comment was deliberately provocative; in any normal Klingon, the implication of her words would cause a violent outburst.

Kleng's eyes narrowed, and the expression behind them wavered in a way that Danni couldn't read. "No!" he snarled. "Being Klingon is all I have ever desired!"

Danni felt confused. "Then ... what?"

The guy dropped his gaze to the floor. "I wish to remain Klingon. But ... there are not enough ... females."

Danni studied Kleng as he shifted his weight back and forth between his feet. He was obviously embarrassed by his request. Sudden realization caused Danni's jaw to drop open. "You ... lost a wager?"

Kleng nodded, his eyes glaring with anger. "Warmok, Rotal, and I wagered on the last Targ hunt," he explained. "Whoever was last to kill a Targ would change." He snarled. "Warmok cheated. His Targ was a mere cub! Even a human could have killed such prey bare-handed! And Rotal took _my_ prey before I could get him!"

Danni nodded her understanding. "You don't _wish_ to be female, but honor ..."

"I would _die_ rather than betray my honor!" Kleng snarled, his eyes ablaze with the passion of his statement. "I must change to preserve my honor," he insisted strongly, staring at the floor as he spoke.

Danni nodded, then lifted the box. "Very well. Would you prefer to design your own body, or would you rather someone else did it?"

Kleng glared as the box unfolded. "I will design my own body!" he said gruffly. "If one of the other males designs the change, they would make me fit for little more than their own pleasure. And if one of the women were to do it, they would make me _weak_ and _soft_!" He spat the words as if they were distasteful.

Danni could find no fault with Kleng's logic. She gestured at the control pad, the odd reddish bump on the side of the device that was shaped like some odd dinosaur footprint. "Were you wanting to change immediately?" she asked when Kleng hesitated.

"The wager requires that I change at the first opportunity." He glared at Danni. "I had hoped that I would have a few more days as a male, until the convention in Dallas next week. I didn't expect you to come _here_!" He focused his attention on the control pad. Within seconds, the display above the control pad showed the image of a Klingon woman, clad in full battle armor.

Danni's eyes widened and she glanced at Kleng from the corner of her eye. "Are you certain that's what you want?" she asked softly.

Kleng snarled at her. He slapped the purple knob, then stepped into the device. Within seconds, Kleng was gone, and a new Klingon woman emerged in his place.

Kleng was going to have some serious adjustment to his new body. The newly formed woman was of moderate height, but the ridges on her forehead were very prominent, and thus, to Klingon males, very sexy. Her straight black hair was longer than normal for Klingon women, and just as coarse and tangled. This, of course, was no surprise for a race that put personal hygiene and grooming far down their list of priorities. From what could be seen beneath the armor, the woman was very muscular and athletic; there seemed to be no fat on here — except for two strategic locations.

Kleng was busily feeling his new breasts, his eyes wide at the feel of them in his hands and tugging at his shoulders. Without doubt, Kleng now had the largest breasts ever seen on a Klingon woman, which was no small feat considering that one of the women looked like Lursa, the very busty Klingon adversary of Worf from the Next Generation series.

Kleng glared once more at Danni, then she squared her shoulders and marched from the room, her eyes burning with anger. Danni laughed to herself; given the nature of the Klingons, she guessed that Kleng hadn't told her the entire wager, and that Kleng would be losing her innocence within hours to Warmok and Rotal.

Danni glanced at the window, then turned back to her desk. A curious smile formed on her lips as she contemplated the next move in this strange game.

**********

The man, Quint, was completely helpless as he stood between the two Klingons, his arms held firmly and painfully by either of his captors. Beads of sweat dripped from his brow, and not because he was too warm.

"Once more, I will ask," Martok, or rather a Klingon who was the spitting image of Martok, asked. It was clear that he was the leader of the Klingons at the compound. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Quint winced as one of his guards shifted ever so slightly and a new stab of pain coursed through his shoulder. "I was just hiking and got lost," Quint explained feebly.

Martok scowled, and a fresh scream of agony erupted from Quint's lips as the guards twisted. "You can do better than that," Martok sneered.

Quint gasped for breath as the pressure and pain eased. "Okay, okay," he sputtered. "I'm ... a fan ... of Miss Ryan."

Danni smiled as she rose from her chair. She strutted in front of Quint. "Okay," she said very calmly. "What's her birth name?"

Quint's eyes widened.

Danni continued. "Where was she born? What's her son's name? Who is she dating? Where does she live? When did she compete in the Miss America Pageant, and what place did she win?" She smirked at Quint as he squirmed, his lips unmoving and his voice silent.

Danni glared at him. ""I don't think you're a fan," she said coldly. "You would know the answers if you were. And in case you'd forgotten, we had this little discussion in the party suite, remember?" She paced back and forth, then turned once more to the captive. "And what were you doing following me here? Would you have me believe that you're so stupid that you forgot our little conversation, or that you're such an obsessed fan that you'd follow me anywhere?" She grasped his cheeks between her thumb and finger, squeezing painfully as she tilted his head slightly downward to look her eye-to-eye. When she got no reaction from him, she pushed his head rudely aside. "Let him go," she said to Martok.

Quint's eyes widened with a ray of hope. Then he saw the wicked grins on the assembled Klingons. "You're just going to let me walk out of here?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes, we will," Martok said. The other Klingons roared with laughter, and Quint felt a chill race down his spine. "But the Targs may not!"

Quint tried to draw himself up, to appear strong. "I didn't meet any wildlife coming in. I'm sure I'll get out okay, too."

Kleng, or the former Kleng, leered at Quint. "You fool!" she spat. "We had orders to keep you alive while you came _in_. I'm sure we will have no such orders for your journey out!"

Quint felt his knees go weak. Martok and Danni saw him pale, and they laughed. "Unless you decide you have something to say first," Martok added with a grin.

Quint glanced around the Klingons and realized that this was all sport to them. Still, there was always hope. There _had_ to be hope of getting out of this. But as he read the expressions of the Klingons, his heart sank. _They_ didn't look like there was a way out, and that they were anticipating his demise.

Danni strode back to him. "Who are you, and who do you work for?" she demanded again. When Quint failed to answer, she extended her arm toward him, and her twin assimilation tubes shot out toward him like laser-guided missiles. Only the distance between them kept the tubes from Quint's neck. Danni read the terror in his eyes. "I'm sure that whoever you're working for knows what a Borg is. And what assimilation is. Perhaps they briefed you?" She moved her arm an inch toward Quint and watched as he tried to draw away, unable to because of his Klingon captors holding him fast. "If I assimilate you, I'll know everything I need to know."

Quint stood, trembling and sweating with fear. Still, despite the pressure upon him, he kept his silence. Eventually, Danni let her tubes retract. She spun from him in disgust. Martok nodded, perhaps with a touch of admiration at the man's courage. "Throw him in a cell," he barked. As the Klingons hauled Quint away, with perhaps a bit of excess enthusiasm, Martok moved beside Danni, and whispered something in her ear. A grin spread across her face as she listened.

**********

Quint stood in the center of a small pen, with his hands and legs bound tightly. The pen looked to be intended for holding livestock such as pigs. Around the fence were Klingons. Danni stood beside Quint. His face was impassive, but no doubt he was considering his fate.

"You still have nothing to say?" Danni asked. From the tone of her voice, it was evident that she expected no answer. When Quint shook his head no, she sighed. "Bring it," she said to Martok. In response, one of the Klingons entered the pen carrying a small gray box. Quint's eyes lit up when he saw what the Klingon was carrying. Danni noticed his expression. "I see you recognize it." She smiled. "You know what it does, don't you." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Quint stood silent. Danni smiled. "I _know_ that you're fully aware of the device's ... capabilities," she said in a firm voice. "The box opens when you touch the lettering on top. It ... unfolds to something about the size of a telephone booth. The control pad is essentially a mental interface, and the display shows whatever the user happens to be thinking of, right?" She saw from Quint's eyes that she was dead on. "Further, the box has the power to actually change the individual to the form which is displayed. The changes extend down to the genetic level, as well." She saw Quint tremble as he realized exactly what she knew. "But ..." Danni paused, watching the man closely, "it stops working after approximately four days."

Quint alternated between staring at the box and glaring at Danni. He _knew_ that she knew all about the box. Inwardly, a debate raged. There _were_ rules about secrecy, after all. Still ... "Yes. That's how it operates," he finally answered.

Danni smiled again. "Wrong." Quint's jaw dropped open and his eyes widened. With a look of triumph, she stepped to the box and extended her arm. Her assimilation tubes shot into the box, and it immediately unfolded to its operational configuration. Quint's jaw hung in amazement. "This is the first time you've seen one of these work, isn't it?" Danni taunted.

"But ... that's impossible!" Quint finally stammered. "They don't work after four days!"

Danni nodded, smiling. "Normally, that's correct. You see, this is a Fwirthian Morphic Adaptation Unit. Mark V, to be precise. It is a demonstration unit, and it operates for only four days before the user is required to pay the license fee to continue using it." She smirked as Quint's eyes went wide, his jaw dropped nearly to the ground, as she explained more about this mysterious box than he, a trained agent, had ever known.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, suddenly very wary. She'd told him things that he hadn't known, and that _she_ knew he hadn't known. She'd betrayed a lot of secrets. Why? He felt a cold chill run down his spine.

"Would you care for a demonstration?" Danni asked simply. Without waiting, she stepped to the box and interfaced to the control panel. The image on the display became something rather pig-like, but much larger and meaner. Danni glanced at Martok, who nodded. As the opening formed in the box, a Klingon dragged in a large squealing razorback hog. From the sound the pig was making, it was not happy. The Klingons, however, didn't seem to care. Nor did they seem worried that the razorback had vicious looking tusks and sharp teeth. Quint began to get a hint of the people he was dealing with; they treated a very dangerous feral razorback hog with no more concern for danger than if it had been a pet dog. The Klingon shoved the hog into the device, and before it could turn, Danni touched a control. The door vanished.

Now, the Klingons cleared the pen, dragging Quint with them. Danni, too, climbed up the fence. In moments, the doorway reappeared. What emerged, however, was not nearly so docile as the razorback which had been shoved into the device. It was much larger and much meaner. The Klingons cheered, while Quint's face drained of blood.

A Klingon opened the gate, and with a bit of encouragement, the Targ raced out of the pen into the woods. Danni turned to Quint. "Impressive, isn't it." Quint just stared after the Targ, amazed at what he'd seen. Danni walked back to the box. Within seconds, the Klingons were hooting and yelling. Quint glanced at Danni, and he saw the image on the display. From the corner of his eye, he saw the Klingons staring at him, laughing and pointing, and he realized what the display was about. He paled as he considered what was on the display.

It — or rather she — was green. Her hair was jet black, but her skin was green. Her nails were green. Even her bare nipples were very dark green. She was extremely curvy, with full firm breasts. The image alone was more sensual than anything Quint had ever seen, and judging from the Klingons, they thought so as well.

"What ... what is that?" Quint asked softly.

"If you're going to pretend to be a Trek fan, you should at least learn something about Trek," Danni said disdainfully. "She's an Orion slave girl. Her body exists for one reason — to bring pleasure to men."

It didn't seem possible, but Quint turned an even whiter shade than he'd been as the last drops of blood drained from his face. He was starting to get a very bad feeling. "What do you want?" he stammered.

Danni nodded to Martok, and almost before Quint knew what was happening, two Klingons were shoving him into the box. "We want to everything about these devices, and who is investigating them, and why."

Quint suddenly got a smug smile as he stood within the box. He'd remembered one weakness in Danni's flaw. "I won't touch the inner control on my own."

Danni nodded. "That's true." She shot out her assimilation tubes toward the red control plate. "You have, however, forgotten about these."

Quint paled as he realized that Danni could make him into whatever she wanted, with or without his cooperation, just as she'd done with the hog. It took only a couple of milliseconds for his spirit to snap, and he began to spill his guts.

As he finished divulging his data, an eerie sound echoed from the woods. The Klingons instantly turned to the noise, just in time to see a half-human cyborg emerge from the forest, with another Klingon warrior at his side.

"Dammit," Martok screamed. "There goes another Targ!" He wheeled on Danni. "Every time one of _them_ shows up, they wander through the forest killing anything that tries to attack them! They really take a hell of a toll on our prey!"

"I see you are safe!" the new Klingon boomed to Danni. "My friends have treated you well?"

Danni smiled. "I'm glad you're here, Mike. We just got our spy to talk."

Mike grinned. "What did it take? Torture? Starvation?"

Martok clapped Mike on the shoulder, rattling his armor. "No, my friend. Just the threat of making him into an Orion slave girl!"

Mike roared with laughter, as did the other Klingons. Quint stood in the box, ignoring the obvious insult at his courage while he peered out fearfully through the opening. The cybernetic man clumped straight into the holding pen and to Danni. "We have penetrated the computer system," the Borg reported in a very strange voice. It sounded like many voices overlaid, all speaking in unison. Quint cowered in the box.

Danni nodded. "We captured one of their agents. He divulged a significant amount of information."

The Borg didn't seem to flinch. "We must interface to exchange data. The database must be complete."

"Agreed." Danni extended her assimilation tubes into the Borg. Her eyes glazed for a few seconds, then the tubes retracted.

"Well?" Mike asked.

Danni grimaced. "The agency is merely an investigative group. The agency has no idea how to control the device, nor where they came from, nor how many devices there are. It is a very small agency, as well, and because of the need for secrecy, it has not, to date, used force in its investigative work. Even more significantly, Agent Q," she pointed at Quint, "has reported that we may be using the device in ways that they have never seen. The agency is highly interested in us."

Mike winced. "You are no longer safe," he said slowly to Danni.

Danni nodded slowly. "That's precisely what I was thinking." She sighed. "And we're going to have to assimilate him to control him."

Martok glanced at Quint, then at the box, then at Danni. "Perhaps not," he said with a grin. "Perhaps not."

**********

"You'll never get away with this!" the green girl screamed even as a Klingon warrior started to paw her nude body. "I'll .... No! ...a Aah! Aaahhh!" Her screams quickly turned to moans of pleasure as the Klingon began to caress her breasts and crotch. In moments, her protests were lost in cries of passion as yet another warrior had his way with the new Orion slut.

Danni ignored the copulation in the corner. "Will this work?" she asked Mike.

Mike grinned. "See for yourself." He raised his voice. "Kurnik!" On cue, Agent Q walked confidently into the room.

Danni nodded slowly. "His appearance is perfect. However, the agency probably uses fingerprints or retinal identification for added security."

Martok grinned. "We thought of that. Your friend the Borg has altered the records in their computers."

Agent Q frowned. "I do _not_ like this form," he snarled. "It's so ... weak!"

Mike clapped his shoulder roughly. "When your mission is complete, we will change you back to your true form, Kurnik."

"Yes," Martok added enthusiastically. "Or a busty female Klingon warrior! We need more females!"

Agent Q frowned. "I will choose my body at the time."

Martok glanced at Mike. "We had to try."

Danni shook her head at the Klingon's banter. "You know what you have to do?"

Agent Q nodded. "I am to slowly discredit myself to the agency by giving increasingly irrelevant, misleading, and fanciful reports. I am to give the appearance of 'going native' among Trek fans, and then resign. The entire process should take not less than four months."

Martok, Mike, and Danni smiled. "Perfect," Danni said with a smile.

"What of the Orion girl?" Agent Q asked. "From what the Borg reported, this agency has encountered some very peculiar changes, and they usually believe wild tales of transformations."

Mike frowned as he realized the agent was right. "If she ever escapes and contacts the agency, it might cause more trouble."

Danni bit her lip. "Maybe we _will_ have to assimilate her, after all."

Martok's face fell. "That would be a shame. She's such a ... lively ... little thing!" He shook his head. "Too bad we can't just have one of the Vulcans do a mind meld to help her forget her past."

Mike started to shake his head, but Danni's eyes lit up. "Perfect!" she announced. "That's a perfect solution!" She turned to Mike. "Bring her. We're going back to the con."

Martok shook his head. "If we bring her, we'll have to bring half the men! They're all eager to try her out, you know!"

**********

"No, I am _not_ interested in copulating with you," Darla said bluntly to one of the Klingons. Undeterred, he tried to put his arm around her. After brushing him away twice, Darla moved her hand to his neck. The Klingon collapsed to the floor, unconscious, and Danni shook her head. She glanced at Danni and Mike. "You really should create a more equitable ratio of males to females," she suggested.

Mike laughed. "We're trying. It's not as easy as you might think. Not everyone wants to be a Klingon woman — especially the men!"

Darla's eyebrows raised. "I see no logic in that statement. If the objective is to become a Klingon warrior, what difference does the final gender make?"

Danni tilted back her head and laughed. "You'd understand if you weren't a Vulcan ..." she commented through tears of laughter.

Darla shook her head, then glanced at the green slave girl in a very skimpy bikini sitting on the sofa. Her hands and feet were bound — just in case — and her eyes betrayed her anger. "This is the agent?" She sounded like she didn't quite believe Mike and Danni's story.

Mike nodded. "Hard to believe, isn't it."

For a Vulcan, Darla had as close to an expression of disgust as was possible. "I _do not_ approve of your request," she said coldly. "What you are asking me to do is to essentially erase one sentient being's identity and replace it with something else." She shook her head. "That seems little different from murder."

Danni opened her mouth, then she paused, staring at Darla as she contemplated her words. "We _have_ to do something," she finally pleaded. "He's ... she's ... too much of a threat. To _all_ of us."

Darla glanced at Mike who nodded in agreement. "I believe," she finally offered, "that I can implement a solution to our problem without destroying the fundamental character of our agent."

Danni glanced at Mike, then she nodded. "If you can do it..."

Darla nodded, then she sat down beside the girl. The girl flinched as Darla reached toward her, her fingers spread in the familiar pattern. Slowly, Darla touched her face. "Your thoughts to my thoughts. Your mind to my mind," she chanted softly. For several minutes, the two sat, silent, while Darla probed into the girl's mind. Finally, she withdrew her hand. The girl slumped unconscious onto the couch.

"Are you ... okay?" Danni asked as Darla seemed to have trouble focusing her attention.

Darla shook her head softly. "Such chaotic thoughts," she said disdainfully. "Such a torrent of emotion, based on conflict between her body's sexual drive and her former male thought patterns." She shuddered involuntarily.

"Were you successful?" Mike asked bluntly.

Darla nodded slowly. "I believe so. I suppressed her memories of having been Agent Q. To her, they will be hazy, like the remnants of a nightmare. I added the background of having always been a Trek fan. To facilitate the sexual conflicts, logic suggested that I include suffering from gender dysphoria stemming from being forced to cross-dress by her dominating mother. She will believe that she's always been a fan, always felt uncomfortable being a male, and that she gratefully jumped at the chance to be changed into an Orion slave girl. Any memories that surface will be easily explained as ongoing adjustments with her sexuality. The remainder of her personality and memories are intact."

Danni nodded appreciatively. "It sounds like you thought of everything."

Darla looked puzzled. "Logic dictates that I think of all possible outcomes and eventualities, and consider them in my course of action. Anything less would be illogical."

The girl was slowly stirring. As she came to, she saw a Klingon, a Vulcan girl, and Seven of Nine watching over her. "Er, did I drift off?" she asked hesitantly.

Danni nodded. "We were concerned about your safety. Are you feeling well?"

The girl tilted her head, then she glanced down at her body. "I ... think so," she replied. "What happened?" She sounded genuinely confused.

Darla raised an eyebrow. "It is a long story. It is sufficient to say that you should be okay."

"Oh, okay," she answered simply. "Oh, I don't remember if I told you my name. I'm ... Lorella." She glanced at Mike, and she slid toward him on the couch. "And I could use a bit of company," she hinted brazenly as she let her fingers begin to dance across the armor of his chest.

"Not with my mate, slut!"

Mike and the girl glanced up at the sudden interruption. Sandy marched through the room toward Mike, her eyes angry and threatening toward Lorella.

"Where have you been?" Sandy demanded. "You disappeared for over a day, then show up with this ... Orion whore!" She spat at Mike. "What about your mate? What about _my_ needs?" she grabbed Mike's hand and bit deeply into the flesh of his palm.

Danni glanced at Darla and Lorella. "I think we're not needed any more," Danni observed quietly as Sandy began to tear off her own armor.

Darla nodded. "I agree," she said. Silently, the trio of girls rose and strode quietly out of the hotel room, ignoring the very loud sounds of increasing passion behind them.

"Oh, Danni," Sandy yelled out when she realized that Danni was leaving.

Danni paused in the doorway. "Yes?"

Sandy gave her a quick glance. "There's someone looking for you. He says he wants to be Yoda."

FIN (for now)