| |
Nine Months – Getting To Know You
By Kudara
Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and all who sail in her belong to
Paramount/Viacom and no infringement of copyright/trade marks is
intended.
Rating: Adult
Feedback: Always welcome, feedback is what encourages me to keep
writing. Please let me know what you like and what you dislike
about the story.
Revision History: 11/16/05
Summary: Nine months ago they were captured.
****************************************************************
Chapter 6 - Stardate 52235.07 (March 27, 2375 7:17 pm)
“Maybe we should stop talking about this for awhile, Seven.”
B’Elanna struggled to keep her voice even, and her irritation
from showing in it. A quick glance toward the motionless robot
in the corner reassured her that she had been successful. They
were seated on the couch and had been discussing the relative
merits of some technology the Borg had gotten from Species 228.
B’Elanna started the discussion after they finished eating and
cleaning up, in the hope of alleviating some of the Borg’s
boredom, as all the blonde had to do during the day was to learn
how to prepare different foods. Seven, not surprisingly, had
applied her usual perfectionist standards to the task, and had
rapidly become a very decent cook. But, as Seven had stated
earlier, it was not the most challenging thing she had ever
attempted.
Unfortunately the conversation was bringing up all the feelings
of inferiority, and it’s associated emotions, namely anger that
B’Elanna usually felt when the Borg insinuated that there was
something inadequate about Voyager’s technology and about her
own level of knowledge.
Seven stopped speaking immediately upon hearing the half-Klingon’s
words. B’Elanna who had grown more used to interpreting the
expressions that ghosted over the Borg’s face, could clearly
tell that Seven was dismayed and confused. Nibbling on her lower
lip, she examined the Borg closely. After two weeks of enforced
close interaction, B’Elanna was finally questioning whether her
stubbornly held assessment of the ex-drone was actually valid
anymore.
“Do you really think Federation technology is so far behind Borg
technology?” B’Elanna asked, trying not to sound too defensive.
Seven tilted her head to the side and raised one metallic
surrounded brow as she considered the question. “In weapons,
shield and warp technology, there are areas in which the Borg
have acquired considerably more advanced technology. Federation
technology is more advanced in some specific areas, such as
Voyager’s bio-neural system, otherwise the Borg would not be
interested in assimilating it.”
B’Elanna nodded then sighed, and was silent for a moment,
finally she admitted, “I guess I feel that you are saying
Voyager’s technology is inferior when you bring up these
things.” She hesitated for a moment then rushed to finish before
Seven could say anything, “And by extension, that my knowledge
is inferior to yours.” B’Elanna frowned as she realized that she
had surprised the blonde, surely Seven realized that every
modification she suggested implied that there was something
inferior with what was currently there, and that the current
Chief Engineer was inferior as well.
The Borg was silent, and B’Elanna grew more puzzled, then
finally concerned at the silence went on and Seven looked more
and more… depressed, B’Elanna finally decided. “Seven?” she
asked, “What’s wrong?”
Seven still hesitated then in a strangely tentative voice, “It
is my function.”
B’Elanna waited for more information, but none was forthcoming.
“What do you mean?”
Seven drew in a breath, “I was the Tertiary Adjunct to the Borg
Queen, that was my function, to analyze the acquired technology
and determine whether it was superior to the Borg’s current
technology. If the technology was superior then I determined how
to adapt the new technology to Borg technology, or adapt Borg
technology to the new technology.”
B’Elanna was still struggling to make sense of what Seven was
telling her in relation to what she had admitted to the Borg
when Seven continued speaking. “I was the Tertiary Adjunct, the
Primary Adjunct and Secondary Adjunct were superior in ability,
but they were from Species 567 and Species 894.”
B’Elanna frowned, “What? I’m not certain what you are telling me
Seven.”
“Those species have superior analytical abilities compared to
humans,” Seven clarified.
Suddenly it dawned on B’Elanna what Seven was saying, “The
Queen’s Unimatrix, the drones for it aren’t chosen by random,
their chosen for ability.”
Seven frowned slightly, “Of course, it would not be efficient
for Unimatrix One to consist of drones that were not the most
suited to their tasks.”
B’Elanna stared at Seven for a long moment, “I thought your
analytical ability was due to your cortical node…” she trailed
off uncertainly.
Seven looked offended, “All adjuncts have the same implants.”
‘She is, or was, the third best at analyzing how to adapt alien
technology in the entire Collective.’ B’Elanna thought with
dawning respect for the woman in front of her, ‘and I’ve been
throwing her recommendations right back in her face.’ Then she
realized something else, but wasn’t sure how to ask if she was
right. If she was then she had been trampling on the Borg’s ego
ever since the Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix One had first
started making suggestions for improvements to engineering.
Approaching the subject in a round about manner, and deciding to
depend upon the Borg’s honesty, B’Elanna asked, “Did you realize
that I felt like you were telling me that I was inferior to you
every time you made a suggestion?”
Seven’s eyes widened, “No, Lt. Torres I did not.” She paused
then continued, “I was attempting to do the same duties for
Voyager as I did for the Collective.” Seven’s eyes fell then
raised back to hers, “I apologize Lt. Torres, you are a more
than adequate engineer, and display an exceptional ability to
rapidly solve engineering problems.”
Surprised B’Elanna murmured, “Thank you.” Regarding the Borg
steadily for several moments, she finally commented, “I’m sorry
I didn’t pay more attention to your suggestions, Seven.”
“As you correctly pointed out, I failed to take certain
considerations into account when I developed my analysis, and
they were frequently impractical for Voyager to implement.”
Seven looked even sadder and B’Elanna was dismayed to note that
the Borg looked as if she would begin crying at any moment.
B’Elanna shifted uneasily; quite aware of how successful her
trio of stock answers had been back on Voyager. Answer one was
Seven’s suggestion would take a maintenance yard to complete,
answer two had been that no one but Seven would understand how
to repair the resulting equipment, answer three had been that
the suggested improvements would cause conflicts with existing
equipment.
Between the three of them, she had managed to fend off most of
the Borg’s suggestions with minimal effort. Recently the Borg
had appeared to have given up her efforts to even make
suggestions, and B’Elanna recalled how pleased she had been that
her entrenched determination to not change her engineering had
been finally successful. Looking at the Borg’s downcast face in
front of her now though, she didn’t feel quite so pleased or
proud of herself.
“What are you thinking about Seven,” B’Elanna heard herself
asking with some surprise at the soft tone.
“That I have performed inadequately at almost all of the tasks I
have been assigned since Captain Janeway severed me from the
Collective.” Seven finally replied in such a low voice that
B’Elanna had to lean closer to the Borg to hear what she was
saying.
“Uh?” B’Elanna uttered dumbly, taken totally by surprise at the
statement. Seven was confident, self-assured, arrogant and rude…
and crying.
“I am malfunctioning,” Seven exclaimed, distress obvious in her
tones.
B’Elanna stood up, suddenly concerned that the makeshift
regeneration their captors had set up for Seven had damaged her
optical implant somehow. “Let me see,” she ordered the blonde,
“can you run a diagnostic on your optical implant?”
Seven looked up at her, “It is not my implant, I cannot suppress
my emotions.” She explained haltingly.
B’Elanna stared at the Borg bemused, watching the slow trickle
of tears continue to flow. Then her training kicked in, “It’s
stress Seven, you were present in Chokatay’s class with me.” She
referred to the class the First Officer had taught on how to
recognize the symptoms of stress reactions and fatigue. “I think
this qualifies as a long term, high stress situation, don’t
you?”
Seven considered her words and slowly nodded. The tears,
however, did not stop as B’Elanna had hoped. She sighed softly,
“Seven, why do you think you have performed inadequately.”
“I failed to give sufficient consideration to Voyager’s
situation before making my recommendations, I have failed at
adapting to my humanity, I have disappointed Captain Janeway
repeatedly.” Seven trailed off.
B’Elanna stared at the miserable woman before her and felt a
warm trickle of gentle amusement, “So you’ve done nothing right,
everything is wrong, and everyone hates you?”
Seven nodded and looked even more miserable, not catching the
amusement in B’Elanna’s eyes.
“So you aren’t the woman who worked with the Doctor to free us
from the Hirogen when they took over the ship, you aren’t the
woman who saved Neelix’s life, or the woman who brought all of
us safely through the Mutara Nebula, almost killing herself in
the process, or helped Captain Janeway escape when you two were
captured by Arturis?” asked B’Elanna, still in the gentle tone
she had been using since Seven had begun crying.
Seven’s eyes widened in surprise and B’Elanna could see that the
ex-drone was thinking quite seriously about what she had just
said.
“Stress causes people to loose perspective, they will tend to
focus on the negative aspects and events and discount the
positive.” Seven quoted Chakotay’s speech from the class.
B’Elanna nodded in relief, a Borg spiraling downward into a
depression was not something she felt equipped to handle.
Seven’s tears had all but dried and she looked like she was
regaining control. ‘I swear if we get back to Voyager I’m going
to review her suggestions and maybe even implement a few them.’
B’Elanna thought to herself as she watched the blonde woman
seated before her.
A thought flashed into her mind, and before she could censor it,
she found herself saying, “Hey Seven, you know those
modifications to the deflector dish you wanted to make a few
months ago? The ones to increase the range by 0.5%?” B’Elanna
asked.
Seven frowned briefly, confused by the sudden change in topic
then her face cleared, “Yes, Lt. Torres. You pointed out that no
one besides me would be able to understand the theory behind the
modifications in the case that it needed to be repaired.”
B’Elanna fought the desire to fidget, she didn’t want to admit
that some of the equations the Borg had submitted had been
difficult for her to understand, much less her engineering crew.
“Could you explain the theory behind those changes again? Maybe
I could develop a training course.”
Seven looked nervously over toward the robot in the corner but
it hadn’t reacted. B’Elanna had thought it would not, as they
were not talking about escaping, only about a hypothetical
action once they were free.
B’Elanna had not given up on the hope that Voyager would figure
out where they were and be able to free them, but she was less
hopeful than she had been a week ago. Her training had shown
that their captors, for someone was certainly behind the robots
that watched them, possessed very advanced technology, more than
capable, she suspected, of hiding them from Voyager’s scans. It
made the presence of the primitive equipment in their quarters
baffling, unless it was a choice made to limit their access to
technology that might aid them in escaping.
“Of course Lt. Torres,” Seven’s voice drew B’Elanna out of her
thoughts of possible rescue. B’Elanna sat back down beside Seven
and settled back to listen to the Borg. Usually this was a task
that set her teeth slightly on edge, but seeing how much happier
the blonde now looked, B’Elanna found that she was feeling
rather pleased with herself for coming up with the idea.
****************************************************************
Chapter 7 - Stardate 52300.69 (April 20, 2375 6:04pm)
B’Elanna sniffed appreciatively as she sat down at the table,
tonight’s dinner was lasagna, and it certainly smelled like
Seven had done her usual excellent job with it. Watching the
Borg sit down, B’Elanna noted with pleasure that the blonde
looked much more relaxed than she had last week. It had been
several days since she had failed at any task demanded of her
and incurred a corrective action against Seven, and B’Elanna was
feeling rather proud of herself as a result.
Before Seven could ask B’Elanna began relating everything that
she had done and seen during the day. Without either of them
realizing it, it had become a habit after a few weeks. They
would sit down after bathing to eat, B’Elanna would tell Seven
about what she had done during the day, then after dinner they
would discuss something technical.
Over the last few weeks B’Elanna had learned quite a lot about
Borg engineering, the species that the Borg had assimilated the
engineering from, and the theory behind the engineering. Over
that same time, she had been able to convince the ex-drone that
just maybe more Federation technology was as good as Borg
technology than Seven had first thought.
Tonight though, B’Elanna’s mind was more focused on a question
that had started bothering her a few days’s ago, than on what
she was telling Seven.
“You seem distracted Lieutenant,” Seven’s voice broke into her
thoughts.
B’Elanna flushed slightly in embarrassment, “I was just
thinking.” Seven regarded her curiously and waited. After
shifting uneasily for a few moments she blurted out, “Do you
remember the Caatati?”
“Yes, they attempted to appropriate Voyager’s warp core when you
were forced to eject it during our first attempt to form a
transwarp corridor. You and Mr. Paris almost died as a result of
their attack on your shuttle and the compromise of your
protective suit.” Seven promptly replied.
B’Elanna felt a moment of discomfort as she remembered how she
had immediately jumped to the conclusion that the Borg had
sabotaged the experiment, and ordered her out of the engine
room. A conclusion that had been disproved rather quickly, but
that fact had not prompted her to reevaluate her opinion of the
drone at the time. She had remained convinced that Seven was
still just waiting for a chance to betray them, she just hadn’t
that time.
During the rather prolonged silence while B’Elanna was
reflecting upon past events, Seven’s expression had turned from
openly curious to somewhat guarded. When B’Elanna came out of
her reverie, it was the first thing she noticed. “You don’t need
to feel defensive Seven.” B’Elanna tried to reassure the blonde
woman. “It’s just that…” she hesitated, struggling to find the
right words, “What you said that day, it just doesn’t seem to
fit you.” Honesty prompted her to finish, “At least not now it
doesn’t.”
One silver surrounded brow rose at these words, “You are
referring to when you asked me if I felt any remorse over what
the Borg had done to the Caatati.”
B’Elanna nodded silently. The longer she was around Seven the
more she realized how… nurturing the woman could be, there
really wasn’t a word that fit better. Over the past few weeks
Seven had, apparently, decided that in the absence of anything
else to do, she would take care of the only member of her
Collective left in reach. Namely one B’Elanna Torres, and in
performing this self appointed task she had shown a side of
herself to the engineer that B’Elanna had never would have
guessed existed.
She had become an excellent chef, and once B’Elanna had gotten
over her general disbelief over the idea of the Borg cooking, it
had actually made sense to her that the perfection driven woman
had proven to be so able. What had surprised her when she
finally realized it, was that Seven had been observing and
remembering her reactions to various dishes. At some point the
Borg had apparently collected enough data to analyze it, and was
now tailoring all the dishes she cooked with what she had
observed of B’Elanna’s specific likes and dislikes. In addition
to the cooking, Seven had continued to be the one who cared for
B’Elanna’s injuries, and had always displayed the gentle touch
that she had that second night.
The only possible explanation that B’Elanna could come up with
to explain the discrepancy between how Seven treated her, and
how cold Seven seemed toward those not of Voyager, was that
Seven might not think that anyone outside her Collective was due
the same consideration. In which case it was essentially
cultural with Seven, as she would have learned that way of
thinking and acting from the Borg. B’Elanna used to think it was
because the woman wasn’t capable of feeling compassion or
remorse, but she had seen quite a few different emotions from
Seven in the past month, enough for her to give up her
previously cherished idea that the woman would always be an
unfeeling drone.
“I did not understand why I should feel remorse for my actions
at that time, nor was I physically capable of experiencing such
an emotion then.” Seven’s voice brought B’Elanna back to the
present.
Frowning slightly B’Elanna was about to ask what Seven meant by
that when the other woman continued.
“When the Borg assimilate an individual, the cortical node takes
control over most brain activity, one of its actions is to
decrease the pathways in the drone’s brain that are associated
with emotional responses. In the case of children who are
assimilated, the cortical node, and the accelerated growth
process of the maturation chamber, cause the fully mature drone
to not have the same ability to feel emotions as a typical adult
member of their species.” Seven paused, her eye’s searching the
half-Klingon’s for a moment before she continued. “When Voyager
first separated me from the Collective, I was only able to
experience a few very basic emotions, primarily fear and anger.”
“But, I’ve seen you display much more complex emotions,”
interrupted B’Elanna, confused.
“Correct, Lieutenant. Once my cortical node ceased limiting my
reactions, over time my brain activity shifted to resemble that
of a typical adult female human, and I developed the ability to
experience a full range of emotions.” Seven’s voice and face
reflected a certain level of ambivalence about the current topic
of conversation.
The expression puzzled B’Elanna, and while she considered it,
she asked, “So at the time I asked you, you weren’t able to feel
that type of emotion?”
Seven nodded, “No I was not.”
Seven’s expression continued to reveal that there was something
bothering her, and B’Elanna was pretty certain now that it was
not about her inability to feel emotion at that time. “What’s
bothering you about the Caatati?” she finally asked.
Her voice hesitant, Seven finally answered, “I am still
uncertain as to what my answer would be to that question now
that I am able to feel remorse.” A long pause followed after
this statement.
B’Elanna, realizing that her food was getting cold, began
eating. She knew that Seven would continue, once she had figured
out what she wanted to say. Over the past few weeks she had
become somewhat used to the fact that any subject that even
vaguely had to do with how Seven felt about something tended to
be a lengthy one, containing several pauses and moments of
silence. With the last bit of information that she had just
gotten, however, B’Elanna thought she understood perhaps why
that was. She now suspected that Seven paused during those
moments because she was busy trying to figure out just what it
was that she was feeling.
B’Elanna really couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Seven,
to go from being able to feel only fear and anger to slowly
being able to feel an entire range of emotions. Considering the
matter further, while Seven sat across from her slowly eating
and obviously thinking, B’Elanna realized that since Seven had
been assimilated at such a young age, and the average six year
old didn’t really experience a lot of different emotions, that
much of what she had experienced emotion wise over the past year
must have been completely new to the Borg.
Finally noting the continuing silence B’Elanna observed the Borg
closely, noting the slight frown and generally worried look on
the blonde’s face. “Honestly, Seven just tell me.” She finally
stated. Seven paused mid-bite and returned the uneaten food and
fork to her plate. To B’Elanna’s surprise she even fidgeted with
the fork for a moment, before releasing it.
Finally Seven seemed to make up her mind, “I did not understand
why being assimilated was perceived as undesirable when I first
was separated from the Collective. I was confused and bewildered
by the chaotic actions of the crew, and my own emotions. The
Collective represented order and control to me.”
B’Elanna frowned, carefully she asked, “Yet surely you realized
those you assimilated weren’t exactly lining up to join the
Borg?” Seven regarded her warily after this statement, and
B’Elanna finally encouraged her after an extended silence, “I
really want to understand Seven.”
Seven frowned slightly at this, then shifted her gaze to the
table for a long moment and stared fixedly at it, finally she
looked up. “I was aware that those I assimilated experienced
distress over the process. But it had no emotional meaning for
me, I was not capable of an emotional response to their fear,
anger or distress. It was merely an irrelevant fact.”
B’Elanna listened intently and when Seven paused after these
statements she nodded, trying to encourage the Borg to continue.
For once she was also listening to what Seven was saying and
trying to understand it from Seven’s perspective.
“Once assimilated, they no longer experienced the emotions they
had before, order was brought to the chaos of their existence,
and they obeyed the will of the collective just as I did.” Seven
paused for a moment, “It was only after I had been severed from
the Collective for several months that I began to fully
understand why assimilation was viewed with such repugnance.”
Seven paused again, “And I began to question whether I wanted to
return to the Collective.” the blonde admitted.
“It was at that point that I began to comprehend why you and
others expected me to feel regret because I had assimilated
others.” Seven paused and B’Elanna was surprised to see a sullen
look upon the blonde’s face. “However, I did not, and still do
not understand why I should feel guilty about my actions while
part of the Collective.”
B’Elanna’s brow furrowed, “What’s the difference between regret
and guilt… oh responsibility,” she answered her own question and
her confusion cleared. Seven nodded abruptly, and B’Elanna’s
eyes widened briefly as she realized that Seven apparently felt
a lot of resentment over this.
“From my experience of assimilation I knew that any new drone
would assimilate others without experiencing distress. If they
had a previous relationship with the person they would recognize
them, but the relationship was only information to them, they
did not experience any emotional response to the person or that
person’s assimilation.” Seven continued speaking and there was
an intensity to this conversation that let B’Elanna know that
this was very important to the Borg.
“Analyzing the reactions of those I had assimilated, my own
memories of being in the Collective, and my experiences after
being severed from the Collective; I came to the conclusion that
the physical process of assimilation changes the emotional
responses and thought processes to such an extent that the drone
is no longer the individual that they were before assimilation.”
Seven looked to be settling in for an extensive dissertation, so
B’Elanna interrupted her as she was pretty sure she knew where
the Borg was going, “Seven, you weren’t responsible for your
actions when you were a drone, it was wrong of me to insist that
you feel that you were. I think what irritated me, those first
few months, was that you didn’t seem to understand why what the
Borg were doing was wrong, but what you just told me explains a
lot about why you didn’t, and probably couldn’t, understand.”
Seven looked slightly offended at being interrupted, then that
expression was replaced by surprise. “You do not blame me for
the things I did while I was a drone?” she asked in almost a
wondering tone.
“No, Seven. I don’t anymore.” B’Elanna thought Seven still
looked uncertain, “Seven if for some reason we were assimilated
tomorrow I understand that I would be doing whatever task was
given to me. Whether it was to assimilate someone else, repair
something, or whatever, and I wouldn’t think that there was
anything wrong with any of it anymore. I wouldn’t be able to.”
she finished softly.
“No you would not,” Seven agreed in a low sober tone.
****************************************************************
Chapter 8 - Stardate 52325.54 (April 29, 2375 7:44pm)
“I believe this is an appropriate time for me to serve the
dessert I prepared earlier today,” Seven announced as she
brought in a tray, upon which was a plate of what looked
suspiciously like chocolate chip cookies.
Sniffing the air B’Elanna asked with an excited gleam in her
eye, “Are those cookies, Chocolate chip cookies?”
Seven tilted her head to one side and raised her brow in a
characteristic look, “You are familiar with this food item. From
your response, you are pleased?”
“Oh yea, I love chocolate chip cookies,” B’Elanna examined the
cookies on the plate with delight and amusement. They were, of
course, picture perfect, and Seven had even poured two glasses
of milk to go with them. “And milk as well.” she noted.
Seven nodded, “It was recommended as the most common beverage
chosen to accompany these, or would you prefer coffee?” she
asked hesitating for a moment the tray just above the coffee
table.
“No, milk’s great,” B’Elanna said as she grabbed a glass and a
cookie. Taking a large bite she closed her eyes in pleasure at
the taste. It had been such a too long since she had tasted a
really good cookie. B’Elanna wasn’t sure how their captors came
by the basic food staples they provided for Seven to cook with,
she assumed they used some type of replication system. If they
did then it was not like the power efficient system Voyager
used, but one of the types similar to what restaurants used,
where accuracy, not the amount of power, was paramount. Whatever
they used the quality was excellent, and it definitely showed in
the foods Seven cooked.
“Mmmm,” B’Elanna opened her eyes after this eloquent statement
of appreciation, and started snickering at the look Seven was
giving her. “That translates into, these are really good, thank
you for making them.” she clarified.
Seven, still slightly wide eyed at the engineer’s response to
the cookies, replied, “You are welcome Lt. Torres.”
B’Elanna frowned, and castigated herself for not noticing
earlier that Seven still called her by her rank. “Seven call me
B’Elanna, you don’t need to be so formal with me.”
She had just surprised the blonde, that was obvious, what wasn’t
so clear was why. B’Elanna stared at Seven in growing confusion,
over the past weeks she had noticed that Seven’s face,
especially her eyes, were much more expressive than she had ever
noticed before. The Borg just wasn’t as obvious in her facial
expressions as most people were. At the current moment, Seven’s
face was rather animated for the ex-drone, and from the varied
expressions passing over it, B’Elanna could only guess that the
blonde was experiencing several different emotions. Why her
simple offer to let Seven use her first name would get such a
reaction, though, she had no idea.
Finally Seven asked hesitantly, “In my observations of human
behavior, I have noticed that, except in Captain Janeway’s case
where she uses the first names of the Senior Officers to denote
when she is speaking informally to them, the use of the first
name is reserved for those regarded as friends. Does this mean
that we are friends?”
“Well,” B’Elanna paused marshaling her thoughts, “I’d say so, I
mean we have been getting along well lately. And I like you
Seven.” Uncertainly, and feeling a bit defensive she finished,
“Do you not want to be friends?”
A slight furrow between Seven’s brows and silence met her
question. B’Elanna put her milk on the table and crossed her
arms over her chest feeling the first stirrings of rejection and
anger. Then it occurred to her that perhaps Seven might not know
quite what she meant by her offer. She ran through her head
Seven’s relationships with those on board and came up with only
Janeway, the Doc and Harry as possible candidates to have
offered friendship to Seven.
‘So a Captain who can never forget that she’s your Captain, and
doesn’t hesitate to use what she knows about you against you if
she feels she needs to as the Captain; a hologram that lords his
relative knowledge of humanity over you, and a guy that wants to
date you.’ Of the three only Harry was probably a good example
of what a friend should be.
“Seven do you understand what a friend is?” B’Elanna was too
focused on the woman beside her to notice how gentle her voice
had become.
“One attached to another by affection or esteem.” Seven replied.
B’Elanna sighed, “That’s the definition, but do you understand
what it means?”
The furrow reappeared, “At one time I believed I understood the
usage of this term, but it appears to be more complicated a
relationship than I had first thought.” Seven stated.
B’Elanna guessed, “The Captain.”
The metal around Seven’s eye flew upward, “Yes, the Captain is
the primary source of my confusion regarding the nature of this
type of human relationship. How did you know this?”
“Not really that hard to guess,” B’Elanna replied dryly.
“Janeway’s a nice person most of the time, but sometimes when
she gets in her ‘I win’ moods, she can be very…” the half-Klingon
searched for the proper word, but finally gave up. “Well she’s
not such a good friend at that time. Take what she did to Tom as
an example, I don’t think she could have chosen a punishment
that would affect him more than solitary confinement.”
Seven’s face tightened and she nodded jerkily.
Staring at the Borg it suddenly dawned on B’Elanna that what she
had initially scoffed at months ago as light punishment, might
have been a lot harsher on Seven than anyone had appreciated.
‘Except Janeway, she would have known, and would have done it
anyway.’ B’Elanna thought. She had confronted Janeway about
Tom’s punishment, thinking that the Captain had overlooked the
possible psychological effects on the pilot, only to walk out
shaken and enraged when she realized that Janeway not only fully
understood what she was doing to Tom, but she didn’t care so
long as it ensured that he obeyed her in the future.
“Well when she gets in those moods, she uses what she knows
about to you against you. Like you don’t like being alone or not
having anything constructive to do, and like Tom doesn’t like
being alone either and has a definite problem with being
confined.” B’Elanna stated. She wasn’t surprised when instead of
disagreeing with her assessment, Seven nodded, confirming her
suspicions about Seven’s punishments. “That’s not something a
friend is supposed to do, Seven. They aren’t supposed to use
what they know against you, and they aren’t supposed to do
things that could emotionally and mentally harm you, at least
not on purpose.”
Seven looked troubled, “She cannot always be my friend because
she is the Captain.”
B’Elanna barked out a short laugh, “You mean she’s your friend
until you do something to challenge her authority as Captain.”
Seven looked openly distressed at this comment. B’Elanna bit
back her anger, “I’m sorry Seven, I know she’s done a lot for
you. If it weren’t for her you probably would have been left at
some planet to fend for yourself.” she admitted, not feeling too
proud of it. “I’m still mad at her about Tom….and I’m worried
about him.” she admitted.
“Lt. Paris is resilient, and Ensign Kim is his friend. Harry Kim
will care for him in your absence.” Seven tried to reassure her,
but B’Elanna could tell that she was not quite as certain as she
sounded, and was concerned as well.
Staring at the Borg, B’Elanna found her mind wandering back to
those first few months, when Seven seemed to be restricted to
the Cargo Bay as much as she had been in the Astrometrics Lab
she helped build, or Engineering. Had anyone been there to speak
up for the blonde, to even raise the question of what so much
solitude would do to someone who wasn’t used to being alone?
With some shame she remembered her glee over each of those
times, and the last month long confinement when Seven had sent
the injured alien over to the Hirogen. It was only after the
Hirogen had taken over Voyager and forced them to participate in
their Holodeck games that anyone had realized that the Borg had
probably prevented Voyager from being destroyed that day, but
B’Elanna doubted that anyone had ever admitted as much to the
blonde. Even the Captain had been overheard relishing the Borg’s
subsequent greater willingness to obey orders just before Seven
had been given the assignment of working with Kovin. Certainly
she herself had enjoyed seeing Seven, not being catered to, or
given greater latitude than others.
Belatedly she realized that she had never responded to Seven,
“Harry will do his best, he’s a good friend to have.” Seven
nodded and picked up her milk and a cookie and began to
delicately nibble on it. B’Elanna went back to considering the
events right after Seven had been released from the Cargo Bay.
She had always felt slightly guilty over the fact that she had
never clarified with the Captain that she hadn’t actually seen
the events that lead up to Seven striking the trader and
breaking his nose. At the time the Captain had asked, she hadn’t
really thought about the fact that she had looked over and saw
Kovin standing very close to Seven, looked down at her console
and listened to them, and looked up in time to see Kovin impact
the deck. There had been about fifteen seconds of time, during
which Seven struck the trader that she hadn’t actually overseen,
and later she just hadn’t bothered to clear it up with the
Captain, not wanting the woman to think she had willfully
omitted something.
Now thinking of Seven’s obvious rage at the time, and the
subsequent things she had overheard, about Seven having a panic
attack in Sickbay and suffering flashbacks, B’Elanna wondered if
the long confinement had anything to do with Seven’s less than
stable mental state during that time. And what exactly the
trader had done to provoke Seven.
Feeling anxious, and suspecting that she might really not like
the answer, she said, “Seven,” she paused and couldn’t meet the
woman’s curious eyes as the blonde glanced at her in response.
“Remember Kovin?”
Seven frowned and looked uneasy, “Yes, he was killed because of
my erroneous accusations.” she stated quietly.
B’Elanna frowned, having been unaware that Seven blamed herself
for the man’s death. “Could you show me how he hit you?” she
blurted out.
The optical implant rose at this and Seven stared at her blankly
for a moment, “I would not want to damage you Lt…” Seven
hesitated, “B’Elanna.” she finished.
“Damage me?” B’Elanna asked confused, unaware that Seven had
been injured during the episode. To her surprise Seven lifted an
arm across her breasts protectively, covering them.
“The manner in which he struck me hurt my breasts, B’Elanna,”
Seven clarified, she dropped her arm but remained slightly
hunched over and looked very unhappy with the conversation.
‘What the?’ B’Elanna thought, “How exactly did he hit you?” she
asked shocked. Hearing the anger in her tone she jerked her head
to the side and then breathed a sigh of relief at seeing that
the robot had not interpreted it as anger toward Seven.
When she turned back Seven waited until she had her attention,
then moved her hand diagonally across her chest, and over the
center of both of her breasts. “Only he impacted my body here
and here,” she clarified indicating a point on the outside of
one breast and the inside of the other.
“No wonder you hit him,” said B’Elanna. It was the first thing
she though, the second and unsaid thought was, ‘I helped him get
away with it. I helped him get away with striking her like
that.’ She stared off to the side, trying to come to grips with
what she had allowed to happen in her own engine room, and the
fact that she had helped Kovin get away with it by not admitting
to Janeway that contrary to what she had first stated, she
hadn’t actually witnessed the entire incident.
“I’m sorry Seven,” she whispered feeling worse by the second.
“I’m sorry I didn’t go to Janeway as soon as I realized that I
hadn’t seen everything, if I had she would have thrown him off
the ship for doing that.”
Seven’s face revealed her puzzlement, “It was not incorrect of
me to strike him?”
B’Elanna opened her mouth then closed it considering the
question. “Well…Janeway would probably tell you that you
shouldn’t have struck him, just stepped away and reported the
incident. But I certainly would have knocked his ass to the
floor for touching me like that.”
Seven stared at her for a long moment, “I am still responsible
for his death,” she concluded sadly.
“Why do you think that?” B’Elanna asked trying to remember all
the details and what the Borg would have had to do with any of
that idiot’s decisions.
“The accusations I made due to my memory error, they started the
chain of events that lead to his death.” Seven explained.
“Captain Janeway blamed me.” she finished sadly.
“Seven,” B’Elanna stopped trying to figure out a diplomatic way
to say that idea was stupid. “Seven,” she began again, “The
Doctor made a mistake trying to be a psychologist when he isn’t
one. You made a mistake believing that your memories of
assimilation.” B’Elanna paused realizing something, “Memories of
a six year old child who probably didn’t fully understand what
was happening, you thought they were of Kovin hurting you for
some reason. Maybe it was the thoron blast, maybe something
else, but you thought it was true when you said it right?”
Seven mutely nodded in response.
“Kovin was the one who decided to run, Kovin was the one who
decided to fire on Voyager even though we weren’t attacking him,
and Kovin was the idiot who kept firing when his weapon systems
were overloading even when we hadn’t ever fired back.”
B’Elanna’s gaze was steadily meeting Seven’s trying to convince
the other woman of the sincerity of her words. “Seven, he killed
himself, no one forced him to make the decisions that he did, no
one’s responsible for his death besides him.” She paused a
moment, “And if Janeway told you she blamed you for it then she
was wrong for doing that.”
Seven’s face was a picture of confusion and indecision,
haltingly she stated, “She did not tell me that she blamed me,
but after Kovin’s death she turned and looked at me. My analysis
of her facial expression was that she held me responsible for
the event.”
B’Elanna knew the look Seven was talking about, and could easily
see Janeway giving the blonde such a look after Kovin’s ship
exploded. She sighed, “I don’t doubt your right. But I’m sure if
you were to ask her today she would tell you that she didn’t,
and would probably even apologize for causing you to believe
that you should.”
Seven regarded her, her expression still confused, finally she
said, “I will consider what you have said B’Elanna.”
Nodding, B’Elanna went back to her milk and another cookie,
needing something to occupy her hands while she thought about
some of her past actions.
“B’Elanna,” Seven’s voice caught her attention after a few
minutes and she looked up. “I forgive you.” Looking into the
blue eyes meeting hers, B’Elanna could see nothing but sincerity
in them.
*************************************
Chapter 9 - Stardate 52326.14 (April 30, 2375 2:04am)
A slight pressure against her shoulder woke the half-Klingon
from a restless sleep punctuated with memories of the times she
had yelled at Seven or enjoyed seeing Seven embarrassed at some
social situation. Thus, when she woke she was feeling quite a
bit of guilt, and was therefore cranky at the world in general.
Looking over in the dim light she realized with surprise that
what had woken her was Seven, or specifically Seven’s forehead
where it was pressed against her arm. It wasn’t surprising that
Seven was over on her side of the bed. Seven regenerated for
four hours every night on her side, when the cycle ended she
remained asleep and drifted over toward the heated side of the
bed.
Their very first night of captivity, when it had happened
B’Elanna had woken, and had been ready to tell the Borg to move
back over when she realized that the blonde was shivering.
Puzzled she had lifted herself up and reached over the sleeping
woman only to find that the other side of the bed felt
definitely cold compared to hers. It hadn’t taken her long to
realize that her side of the bed was heated, whereas Seven’s was
either not or was actively being chilled. After considering the
situation for a few moments she had just moved over closer to
her edge and left Seven alone.
This was the first time, though, that Seven had actually come
close enough to touch her. Carefully B’Elanna moved away and
rolled over on her side so that she could see Seven’s face, not
even noticing that her irritation over being woken was gone. The
blonde slept with her mouth partially open, showing just the
tips of white teeth, and her hands were folded together against
her upper chest. In sleep Seven’s face showed little of its
usual expression. Instead it was completely relaxed, softer and
much more innocent looking than when she was awake.
‘She looks almost like a child sleeping like that,’ B’Elanna
thought, ‘But she’s definitely not.’ Seven knew, and had seen,
entirely too much to be compared to a child in anything except
understanding her emotions and social knowledge. And even there
she was improving by leaps and bounds.
“I’ve been such a P’taq to you,” B’Elanna admitted to the
sleeping woman in a whisper. Then she smiled wryly, after all it
was not like Seven hadn’t been perfectly capable of getting some
of her own back in their arguments, and definitely had upon
occasion.
Softly she sighed, admitting to herself that the Borg was a much
more forgiving and generally kind person than she was, if their
roles had been reversed she would have made sure that Seven’s
life was a living hell; trapped in these rooms all the time with
nothing to do but cook and clean, she would have blamed the Borg
for it all. Of course that was probably the very reason she was
being trained to be some type of soldier and Seven was the
hostage.
So she got to go outside, learn how to use different weapons and
equipment, taught tactics, how to move around without being
seen, more medical training than she had ever wanted, and Seven
got the pain inducers. All because she would adapt and not hold
it against B’Elanna, and the same would not have been true the
other way around.
Gently she reached out and stroked the blond hair for a few
moments, the only thing she could do was make sure that she
tried her damnedest to please their captor or captors so Seven
wouldn’t be hurt.
****************************************************************
Chapter 10 - Stardate 52394.67 (May 25, 2375 1:21am)
Seven murmured incoherently, and shifted restlessly, in her
fevered sleep. Half-asleep, B’Elanna jerked herself awake, from
where she sat in the chair beside the bed, and glanced over
concerned. She was almost certain that she had properly cleaned
and sterilized all of Seven’s wounds, before sealing them
closed, but the blonde’s fever indicated otherwise.
Movement in the door drew her attention, and she stood up so
fast that the chair fell backward, as one of the insectoid
robots entered. “You will administer these antibiotics and pain
killers to your hostage every four hours. Training is suspended
until further notice.” A slot opened on its front, and B’Elanna
forced herself to move closer to it so she could take the
hyposprays it was offering. After it withdrew from the bedroom
B’Elanna injected Seven with the medicines.
Sitting back down in the chair, she stared at Seven, remembering
the events of the day before. The training robot had led her to
the room where she usually studied first aid, basic medicine and
surgery.
“It is now time for your final surgical test.” It had announced.
Then Seven had stepped in the room, and before B’Elanna even
registered why she was possibly there, her training robot had
lashed out. Blood seemed to go everywhere; and somehow she had
managed to get across the room before Seven struck the floor,
easing the woman down. She had went to knees in shock for a
second; then slipping in Seven’s own blood, she struggled to her
feet, and grabbed the surgical instruments.
Her first action was to sedate Seven who was still barely
conscious, her blue eyes seemingly asking B’Elanna why had this
had been done to her. Her next was to start sealing up the worst
of the damage before Seven bled out. She had struggled to keep
her alive for what seemed like forever, but was only about ten
minutes, before Seven was stabilized enough for B’Elanna to lift
her to the bio bed and finish healing her wounds. Four hours
later she permitted herself a long enough break so she could eat
one of the ration bars and went back to work, this time making
sure Seven’s Borg systems had not been compromised, even though
they had not been directly damaged.
“No you don’t want to eat that one, look its broke Maria.”
B’Elanna focused on Seven in surprise wondering what in the
world she was talking about. “Here, I’ll take that one, and you
can have mine.” Seven continued talking her voice oddly pitched.
Frowning, B’Elanna got up and felt of Seven’s forehead,
internally cursing the robots, and the fact that they had not
permitted her to take a medical scanning instrument with her
into their quarters. Seven at least felt cooler than she had
before, to B’Elanna’s relief, and despite the fact that she had
been talking, the Borg showed no signs that she was awake.
“Papa, was pleased with my equations, he even stopped looking at
the Borg communication, and explained to me how to use integrals
to find the area under a function graph.” Seven spoke again.
B’Elanna paused, her hand still on Seven’s forehead as she
stared down at the blonde finally recognizing the tone. “It must
be the painkiller.” she theorized aloud. ‘She’s remembering when
she was a child, but who is Maria?’ she wondered. Then she
realized something else, at six years of age Annika Hansen had
been doing mathematical equations that she had done in school at
twelve or so.
Throughout the rest of the day, and into the night, Seven would
occasionally speak aloud, apparently dreaming about her
childhood. B’Elanna didn’t want to keep giving her the
painkiller, but was pretty sure that whoever or whatever was
controlling the robots, would take that as a refusal to follow
their directions, and would punish Seven if she did not.
During those hours she learned five things about Seven. One,
much of the behavior Seven exhibited, such as her perfectionism,
that they had thought was Borg, was definitely not, as she had
certainly shown signs of it as a child. Two, the commanding,
arrogant tone that she used was not Borg, it was from her
mother. That gem had come from a snippet where Seven was
giggling to Maria about her father calling her his little
Captain, and complaining about her learning it from her mother.
Three, balancing out the perfectionism and arrogance, were the
characteristics B’Elanna had come to appreciate; Seven’s
kindness and consideration, which apparently had always been
part of her character. Four, which she had already partially
figured out, was that Seven had been mathematically gifted, and
showed an unusual understand of physical theory for a six year
old. And lastly, five, Maria was a stuffed bear that Seven
talked to as a child.
Now at 2 pm, and the last of the medicine given four hours ago
B’Elanna was hoping that Seven would at last fully wake up,
though she had grown rather fond of the glimpses of a young
Annika Hansen that she had overheard for the past 12 hours.
Seven’s eyes flickered and B’Elanna got up from her chair and
leaned over her, smoothing some errant hairs out of her face.
“B’Elanna,” Seven said huskily.
“Welcome back,” B’Elanna smiled somewhat shakily in relief.
Seven still seemed somewhat confused, her eyes roaming around
the room and a frown on her face, finally she looked back to the
half-Klingon, “I am thirsty.” she announced and struggled to get
up.
“No you don’t,” ordered B’Elanna as she placed a hand on either
shoulder to stop the blonde. “I’ll get it for you, you shouldn’t
get up yet.” She continued in a softer voice as Seven stared up
at her wide eyed. Releasing the woman, B’Elanna turned to go out
of the room, turning back she requested sternly, “You promise
you won’t try and get up while I’m getting your drink?” The
brief grumpy pout that greeted this only caused her to grin.
“I will not B’Elanna,” Seven promised, then sighed.
Shaking her head, and slightly worried that Seven still seemed
to not be entirely her normal self, B’Elanna filled a glass with
water, grabbed a straw she had noticed earlier in the day and
returned to the bedroom. She set the glass on the small table
beside the bed, and turned to Seven, “Ok let me help you into a
sitting position,” she inserted an arm behind the blonde’s
shoulders, and helped her sit up, noting with concern the wince
of pain on Seven’s face as she did so. “Are you ok?”
Seven nodded, “I seem to be…stiff.” she explained.
B’Elanna handed her the glass and watched while she drank, when
Seven sat the glass down on the table she was about to ask her
how she was feeling when one of the robots appeared in the
doorway. A distressed noise from Seven caused her to glance back
toward her, and instinctively she released her, stood up, and
stepped between the injured woman and the machine in response to
the frightened look on Seven’s face.
“You will provide an update on your hostage’s condition and
return the scanning device.” It stated shortly, ignoring, or not
caring, where she was standing. With a feeling of relief, she
retrieved the medical scanner, and turned back to Seven. Seeing
the expression on the blonde woman’s face, and her tenseness,
B’Elanna stepped closer and rested what she hoped would be a
reassuring hand on Seven’s shoulder. After a few seconds of
contact, Seven’s fearful gaze finally left the robot still
standing in the door, and switched to her.
With one final squeeze to the shoulder underneath her hand,
B’Elanna started her scan, studying the results she turned back
to the machine. “She is recovering satisfactorily, with no sign
of infection. She should not move around much for another twelve
hours, and should regenerate sometime within the next six. After
twelve hours she should limit her activities for another two
days, after that she should be able to resume normal
activities.”
“Conservative, but not outside the parameters of this training
exercise,” was its pronouncement.
B’Elanna stiffened at the evaluation, but the robot did not take
any other action, so she returned the scanning device, and
watched from the bedroom doorway it until it left their
quarters. Both Seven and she knew better than to comment on
where the robot was, but B’Elanna gave her a reassuring look as
she returned to the side of the bed, and from the blonde’s
immediate relaxation knew that she had been understood.
“I wish to take a bath,” Seven asked her looking rather unhappy.
B’Elanna was not particularly surprised; she knew Seven had to
be feeling rather grungy by now. “Ok,” she agreed, “but you’re
going to let me help you and we’re going to take it very easy.”
“Yes, B’Elanna,” Seven agreed easily, looking brighter and more
cheerful just at the idea.
B’Elanna noticed that Seven seemed quiet as she helped her
bathe, but it wasn’t until she helped her back into the bed and
began combing her long hair that she noticed that she was
becoming distressed. “Seven, what’s wrong? Do you hurt
somewhere?”
“I am functioning adequately, B’Elanna,” she answered in a
strained voice. B’Elanna waited silently, suspecting that the
blonde had more she wanted to say, and was shortly rewarded. “I
seem to have had particularly vivid dreams while I was
sleeping.”
“Ah,” things began to make sense, “I think it was probably the
painkillers that I was supplied. Shortly after I gave them to
you, you began talking.”
Seven looked startled at this information, “I was remembering
events from when I was aboard my parent’s ship, the Raven.”
B’Elanna nodded, “You talked a lot to your stuffed bear, Maria.”
she said with a gentle smile.
“Yes,” Seven looked far away, “While my Papa and Mama were
working.”
Seven looked so vulnerable and lost at that moment, that
B’Elanna felt a rush of protectiveness come over her. Over the
course of the day she felt like she had gotten to know who Seven
was for yet a third time.
Her first idea of who Seven was, the one she held onto so
tightly aboard Voyager, had been so wildly inaccurate that she
was now ashamed of how hard headedly determined she had been to
hold onto it. Since they had been captives together, she had
come to realize that Seven was actually someone she liked, and
had become friends with. Today though, she had gotten to know
the brilliant, arrogant, perfectionistic, kind, compassionate
child Annika Hansen, a child that was very much like the adult
Seven of Nine.
Noting that Seven’s signs of distress were increasing she
started stroking her hair, trying to be soothing. “What’s wrong
Seven?” she inquired worriedly.
She was concerned to see tear’s well in Seven’s eyes, “My
father…” Seven took in a shuddering breath, “My father would
hold me in his lap and touch my hair like you are,” the breath
was definitely more a sob now. “He called me his Muffin, and
told me he loved me.”
Without thinking much about what she was doing, B’Elanna wrapped
her arms around Seven and gently hugged her. “I guess you
haven’t remembered much about your parents until now?” she
inquired quietly.
A head shaking against her chest and a whispered, “No,” was all
the answer she received.
“What are you feeling Seven, what are you thinking about?”
B’Elanna asked, not wanting to tell Seven what she thought the
woman was feeling, just incase she was wrong.
Seven was silent except for deep shuddering breaths, finally,
“What you are doing now, the way you are holding me, the way it
makes me feel, is like what I felt when my father held me. This
emotion causes me to wish that he were here, but if he is still
alive then he is likely a drone.” Seven paused for a moment,
“When I think of that, then I feel anger toward him and my
mother for seeking out the Borg, and our subsequent
assimilation. My emotions are conflicting, but the strongest is
a feeling like what I felt when One died, the Doctor informed me
that this emotion is known as grief.”
The last statement surprised B’Elanna for a moment, until she
thought about it. Janeway had given Seven the responsibility of
training and essentially raising One, it shouldn’t be surprising
that she would have grieved over his death.
Uneasily she remembered the abbreviated funeral held for the
young Borg, it had been attended by only by Seven, Janeway, the
Doctor, Neelix and herself, even though One had died saving all
of them. She recalled Seven standing motionless, and to her eyes
completely unemotional, staring fixedly at the bulkhead as the
service was read. Then she hadn’t known what to think, except
that Seven was acting very oddly. Now she suspected Seven, at
that time, had no idea how to deal with the emotions One’s death
brought up, and that had been her way of trying to control them.
“You were essentially the person who raised him, its not
surprising that you experienced grief when he died.” B’Elanna
murmured.
“He was my son,” the reply was muffled against her chest.
B’Elanna looked down at the blonde head against her chest in
puzzlement, “Your son? Because of your nanoprobes?” she asked
floundering.
“One was not a clone of Ensign Mulchaey, he was a combination of
mine and his genetic material, combined by my nanoprobes.”
explained Seven.
B’Elanna closed her eyes, and hugged Seven even tighter against
her. “Oh, Seven,” she said simply with sympathy. B’Elanna didn’t
know what to think; once again she was feeling what was becoming
an all too familiar emotion around Seven, guilt, with a liberal
amount of shame. At least she could be proud of the fact that
not only had she attended, but during the funeral she had felt a
spark of anger over only four people showing up for it. She had
gone because she had become rather fond of One, his naivety and
engaging eagerness, and out of honor for his self-sacrifice.
“I am experiencing grief over their loss, I am also experiencing
anger, it is confusing.” Seven switched back to B’Elanna’s
original question with a plaintive note to her voice.
“Yes, it is,” B’Elanna agreed, thinking soberly about her own
emotions about her parents.
Seven remained silent, rested face buried against B’Elanna’s
chest just below the hollow of her throat. The blonde held onto
B’Elanna’s shirt front, and every so often the half-Klingon
could feel them tighten and then loosen. She couldn’t tell if
Seven was crying or not, she could only hear deep ragged
breathing, as the woman struggled with the emotions she was
feeling, and the only thing she could figure to do to help, was
to keep holding her.
The silence had gone on for so long that Seven’s voice startled
her, “She is gone.” the tone held only sadness.
“Who?” B’Elanna wondered if Seven was talking about her mother.
“Annika Hansen, she is gone. I cannot be her.” resignation was
added to the already sad tone.
“Seven,” B’Elanna paused to order her thoughts, feeling keenly
that this was something important that Seven needed to know. “I
met to Annika Hansen today, she can be arrogant like her mother,
likes things to be perfect, whether it’s a cookie or the
equation she working on, but she’s also very giving and
compassionate.” She looked down and was silent until Seven
finally glanced up and met her gaze. “And she’s still here.”
Seven pulled back and B’Elanna could tell she was getting ready
to argue with her, “We were wrong, Seven.” Seven’s mouth snapped
shut and she looked puzzled, “We been telling you that you act
like a Borg, but we were wrong. Yes, being a Borg exaggerated
your tendency toward perfectionism and probably your habit of
being arrogant. But they didn’t make you that way; you came to
them that way. Annika Hansen isn’t gone, you’ve been becoming
more her…more yourself every day, we just didn’t see it.”
|
|
