Chapter Four:

After a month of not being allowed to take the Delta Flyer out for a spin, the now Ensign Tom Paris had been happy when he finally got the chance again, going on a mission with Tuvok and Samantha Wildman. A few days in however, he suddenly found himself missing the safety of his cell in the brig.

“We’ve got another ion storm coming in,” he said, checking his sensors. “Great. We still haven’t gotten ourselves patched up from the last one. No way we’re making it back to Voyager today.”

“I am never leaving the ship again,” Samantha said. “I get stranded by the Kazon, Naomi gets sick, dipshit weapons dealer nearly blows Seven’s hand off; every time I step off Voyager something bad happens.”

“That is not wholly accurate,” Tuvok said. “I can recall with little effort at least two occasions where you were off Voyager, and nothing that could be described as negative occurred.”
“Yeah, two,” Samantha said. “That doesn’t disprove my point. Leaving that ship is just bad luck.”
“To be fair, Sam,” Paris said, “it’s not like every day on Voyager herself is sunshine and bunnies.” He checked his console one more time to make sure the Flyer was stationary as trying to move during an ion storm only made it more dangerous. “We’ve got several minutes before it hits, better contact Naomi, let her know you’ll be delayed so she won’t worry.”

—

Naomi Wildman beamed with pride as she left the holodeck, having quickly and triumphantly solved the problem presented her in the current Flotter chapter on the holodeck she was on, and she was looking forward to sharing her accomplishments with her mom. She wasn’t going to have to wait too long though, because the reason she’d left the holodeck when she did was because Neelix had called to let her know that her mother was contacting from the Delta Flyer, and that Neelix had set up a visual communications link in her quarters.

Once she got there, Neelix simply stood back while Naomi sat at the table and looked at the screen. She’d asked where Seven of Nine was, but Neelix said that Seven was being kept busy on the bridge. Naomi thought it was kind of weird that her mom’s girlfriend wouldn’t be here, but figured maybe they’d talk later, and talk about the kind of grown up stuff she didn’t like being in the room for.
“Hi Mom,” she said.
“Hey sweetie,” Samantha replied. Naomi wasted no time in detailing how she’d helped the Flotter character make peace with a character named Trevis, even though deep down she knew that her mom probably knew these characters already since she’d also played in those holonovels as a kid.
“I can show you how I did it tomorrow when you get back,” Naomi said, finally finished. Her mother sighed as the static on the channel got worse.
“I’m sorry, Naomi, the away mission is taking longer than planned. It may be a few more days.”
“Days?” Naomi said, frowning.

“‘Fraid so. But don’t worry, I’ll be bringing back some beautiful sillenite crystals for you and for Seven. Now I know what time it is there, so I want you to get ready for bed while I talk to Neelix, okay?”
“All right,” Naomi said, sadly, getting up to do as her mother told her.

—

Neelix could tell even through the static that Samantha Wildman was putting on a brave face. As soon as Naomi went to her room to change, Neelix sat down.
“Samantha?” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“We got hit by an ion storm,” she said. “We took a beating, but I imagine it would be worse if we were in a regular shuttle.”
“How bad?”
“We’re trying to make repairs, but there’s another storm on the way.” The static got worse. Neelix saw Samantha look down. It was probably just as bad on her end too. “I need to go. Say goodnight to Naomi for me.”
“Of course,” Neelix said. “Do you want me to say anything to Seven of Nine as well, or-”
“I’m sure the Captain’s already briefed her on the situation. But thanks. The signal’s getting worse, I have to go.”
The screen went black. Neelix sighed. For a moment he considered telling Naomi the truth about why her mother was delayed, but decided against it. Samantha hadn’t said anything, probably not wanting Naomi to worry unnecessarily.
I won’t tell her yet, he thought. I just need to figure out when. Or maybe I’ll get lucky and Samantha, Tom, and Tuvok will all be home before it even becomes an issue.

—

Neelix, along with the rest of the senior staff still on-board listened quietly in the briefing room as the static-marred mayday message from Tuvok played for them, the sound cutting out just after his voice told them that they were looking for an emergency landing site for the Delta Flyer.
“That was the last transmission we got from them,” Chakotay said. “We haven’t heard anything since. We’ve tried hailing them but they aren’t responding.”
“If they’re looking for a place to land,” the Doctor said, “it must be pretty bad.”
“Exactly what I was thinking,” B’Elanna said. “Can we pick them up on long range sensors?”

“We lost their energy signature when the second ion storm hit,” Harry Kim said. “But we’ve triangulated the coordinates of the distress call. They’ve entered a planetary system about 0.6 light years from here. That’s the good news. The bad is that another ion storm blocking our path. It’s a level five.”
“Hmm,” Janeway said. “We’ve been through worse than a Level 5. And since Edwin’s shield reinforcements are still in place, we should be able to ride it out just fine. We’re not going to let a little bad weather get in the way of our rescue mission. Dismissed.”
“What should I tell Naomi?” Neelix said, speaking up for the first time since the briefing started. “Or should I tell her anything for that matter?”
Chakotay shrugged. “If you don’t feel comfortable handling that Neelix, perhaps I could help.”
“That won’t be necessary Commander,” Neelix said. “I know she needs to be told, and it probably should come from me. Except for her mother and maybe Seven of Nine, I’m closer to her than anyone. I’m just worried about how she’ll handle it.”
“Understandable,” Janeway said. “Look, just keep her occupied for awhile while we handle the rescue mission. If things go sideways, it’ll be my job to deliver the bad news.”
“This reminds me,” B’Elanna said. “Has anyone told Seven yet?”
“She’s aware of the Flyer’s damage from the first ion storm,” Harry said. “But us in this room are the only ones with the latest information. I’m sure she’ll handle it fine though. This is the woman who was able to save us all from a killer nebula, while in the middle of a nervous breakdown no less,” he added, referring to last year’s month-long period where all but Seven and the Doctor had to sleep in stasis tubes.
“This is different though,” Janeway said.
“How so?” Neelix said, wondering where the captain was going with this.
“It’s a matter of scale,” she said. “The larger the number of people in danger, the easier it is to detach and focus on the task at hand. There’s a huge difference between a hundred and twenty plus, and three. And when one of those three is someone you’re emotionally attached to…”
“I would remind you that my boyfriend is one of the people in danger,” B’Elanna said. “And I don’t see anyone worrying about me not being able to focus.”
“I’ve known you longer, I know I don’t need to,” Janeway said. “We’ve all gone through something like this before. But for Seven this is still new, she’s never had to perform with these kinds of stakes before.”

“With all due respect Captain,” Harry said, “I think you’re selling her short. I’m confident Seven of Nine won’t let her connection to Sam cloud her judgement, and we’ll probably need her skills on this mission.”
“I agree,” Neelix said.
“Same here,” the Doctor said. Janeway shrugged.
“You’re probably right,” she said. “Harry, let her know the situation. Neelix, keep Naomi occupied, like I said. Everyone else, let’s start putting a rescue plan together.”

—

Seven of Nine was slightly confused. When Janeway summoned her to the bridge and updated her on the Delta Flyer’s situation, Seven began to feel a sense of panic, not unlike the one she’d had weeks before when Edwin was allowing himself to die in sickbay. She couldn’t quite understand why though. The concern for Samantha, of course was natural, and she imagined that B’Elanna Torres felt much the same way about Tom Paris, whose life was also in danger aboard the Flyer. During her time on the ship however, the entire ship had been in danger more times than should have been statistically probable. By extension, Sam was in danger then too. Seven just could not discern what made this different.

Maybe it’s because I helped design the shuttle, she found herself thinking as she went over schematics on a PADD that Harry had handed her. If I’d been more involved perhaps it wouldn’t be so badly damaged.
“Has Naomi been informed?” she asked Lieutenant Kim.
“Neelix is going to handle that,” Harry said. “but not just yet. I can’t blame him for being reluctant, no one wants to be the bearer of bad news.”
“Perhaps that is for the best,” Seven said. “I would offer to tell her myself, but as Sam as pointed out to me more than once I still require improvement in the, to use her words, ‘tact department.’”

Harry chuckled at that. Seven had not intended the statement to be amusing, but she decided to keep that to herself.

“I should probably steer clear of Naomi for the remainder of the operation,” she said. “If I see her she will likely ask me about the status of her mother, and much like Sam I do not like deceiving her.”
“You’ve had to lie to her before?” Harry said.
“Yes,” she said. Harry looked for a moment like he might ask for further details on that, but he didn’t, for which Seven was grateful as she would not have given him any. None of the falsehoods were large ones, it was simply a matter of there being things that Sam felt it was in Naomi’s best interest that she not know about until she was an adult. Seven was skeptical, but chose to defer to Samantha on the matter.

What will I do if she doesn’t come back? she thought. She tried to push the intrusive thought aside, but it kept nagging at her quietly in the back of her mind, so she instead tried to focus harder on the information on her PADD, working to put together a rescue mission.

—

As Tom Paris pushed the thrusters on the Delta Flyer to their limits, Samantha kept her focus on the console screen, trying to find somewhere, anywhere, to land the ship. With warp drive and even impulse engines off-line though, she knew they were only delaying the inevitable and that the ion storm was going to hit them.

“And to think that being demoted and having to spend a month in the brig would end up not being the worst thing to happen to me this year,” she heard Paris mutter.
“The storm is throwing off my readings,” she said, “but there is definitely a big rock nearby, I just can’t find it.” The ship shuddered.
“The wave front is accelerating,” Tuvok said. “Less than two minutes to impact.”
“Great, so I’ve only got about thirty seconds to land this thing,” Tom said. “Samantha, I hate to rush you-”
“Got it,” she said, “Finally. I read a class-M atmosphere, and a benamite mantle.” She quickly transferred the distance and coordinates to Tom’s console.
“Benamite? I want to land this shuttle, not bury it,” he said as he turned the shuttle towards the planet which would hopefully protect them from more ion storms.
“Well, we could always just try to surf the ion storm,” Samantha snarked, her patience starting to waver as the shuddering got worse.
“We’ve entered the upper atmosphere,” Tuvok said a few seconds later. Samantha continued her scans.
“Nothing but impact craters and volcanoes,” she said, “this is not a good landing place.”
“The storm is closing,” Tuvok said. “Shields are already at maximum.”
“It’s gonna have to do,” Tom said. “So long as we don’t land in a volcano we should be fine.”
“Starboard thrusters are down,” Tuvok said.
“Damn,” Tom said. “This is just not my day.”
“We’re going in too fast,” Samantha said, finally starting to panic.
“Hang on!” Tom yelled.

The ship shook violently, there were loud clanging noises, Samantha felt her head hit something, and her vision became fuzzy. She didn’t remember being unconscious, but when she opened her eyes, she saw that she’d been moved from where she’d been sitting, and she was very, very sore.

“Wha-what happened?” she said, touching a sore spot on her head, and seeing blood on the tips of her fingers.
Tom was scanning her with a medical tricorder. Samantha found herself glad that he had agreed to be trained as a field medic.
“We made it. -ish,” Tom said. “The Delta Flyer’s first real planetary landing wasn’t exactly an auspicious one. We’re three kilometers under the surface. At least our primary hull is still in one piece.”
“Wish I felt the same way,” Samantha said.
“You’ll be okay,” Tom said. “Minor fractures, a concussion, nothing I can’t handle.”
“You’re a better nurse than you are a liar, Ensign,” Samantha grunted and clutched her side, which was hurting worse now.
Tom closed the medical tricorder and sighed. “You have a punctured kidney,” he said. “You need surgery.”
Samantha nodded.
“I have transmitted another distress call,” Tuvok said. “So far, no response.”
“I’ve got to talk to Naomi,” Samantha said, feeling scared. “And Annie. My girls, they’ll be so worried about me.”

“Conserve your strength, Ensign,” Tuvok said. “Mr. Paris and I have the situation under control.”

“Sam, I’m going to give you a mild sedative and something for the pain, okay?” Tom said, holding up a hypospray. Samantha nodded. She felt a little woozy after Tom applied the hypospray, but she could still hear him and Tuvok as they discussed their situation. Were she not drugged, it might’ve made her panic more.
“Any chance we could abandon ship and walk out of here?” Tom said.
“Unlikely,” Tuvok said. “We’re far too deep underground, and the cavern behind us has filled up with fluorine gas.”
“Seriously?” Tom said, sounding incredulous. “Fluorine? How did it not all ignite when we crashed?”
“Unknown,” Tuvok admitted.
Samantha, not wanting to fall asleep, tried to remember everything she could about fluorine gas and had to agree with Tom. That type of gas was so reactive water would ignite it, and now there was a huge cave full of it right behind them.
Three ion storms in one day, a crash landing, and surrounded by a gas that can explode if you look at it wrong. Welcome to the worst day of my life, she thought.

“Our best option,” she heard Tuvok say, “is to wait for Voyager.”

-o-

Naomi kept thinking about how her mom hadn’t contacted her in awhile, how Seven of Nine seemed to be avoiding her, and how nervous Neelix seemed to be. Something was going on, and no one was telling her and it was making her mad enough that nothing the Doctor was telling her about botany was registering.

The Doctor was saying something about organelles when Naomi finally just said what was on her mind.
“My Mom was supposed to call me today. Why hasn’t she?”
The Doctor paused for a moment.
“Well,” he said, “she’s probably just busy.” The Doctor was still smiling like he was when he was giving his lessons, but Naomi felt something was a little off with the smile, like it was there just to make her feel better. “Now let’s have a little look at the cell wall,” the Doctor said, tapping a button on the console screen in front of her.

“Can we try to call her?” she said. The Doctor didn’t answer right away.
“Well,” he started to say but was interrupted when the door to sickbay opened. “Neelix, so happy to see you,” the Doctor said. Neelix seemed surprised at that.
“Um, okay,” Neelix said. “I was just coming by to pick up Naomi. We’re going to do another Flotter story on the holodeck today. I’m not too early am I?”
“I was just asking the Doctor if we could call Mom on the Delta Flyer,” Naomi said. Neelix sighed. He looked at the Doctor, who nodded and stepped into his office, leaving her and Neelix alone.
“I should have said something sooner,” Neelix said. Naomi suddenly felt very nervous. “The Delta Flyer got hit pretty bad by some ion storms and had to land on a planetoid to make repairs. We can’t talk to them right now because of the damage. I’m sure you’re scared right now, and it’s okay to be scared, but I want you to know that everyone is doing everything they can to make sure the Flyer and everyone on it comes home safe. Okay?”
Naomi didn’t say anything. She just sat there. She did feel a little scared, like Neelix said she would, but she was also mad. Mad at him for not telling her right away that her mom was in trouble, mad at her mother for not saying she was in trouble the last time she called, mad at ion storms…

She got out of her chair and just left sickbay. Neelix followed her, asking her if she was okay but she just ignored him. She wanted to go somewhere where she could feel safe, so she went to holodeck one and activated the Flotter program. When Neelix tried to follow her in she just yelled “No!” at him and asked the computer to seal the door. She walked as far as the nearest tree, which wasn’t very far since the simulation was of a forest, leaned against it, and cried.

—

Seven of Nine worked at her console in the astrometrics lab. She was concerned for Sam, but she wasn’t allowing her fear to cloud her judgement. If pressed, she would have to admit that she just didn’t know if she could emotionally handle losing her, but that was all the more reason not to be reckless. She imagined that being allowed to work on the rescue mission played a large part, if not the largest, in helping maintain her calm.

“Computer, switch to polythermal imaging and enhance resolution,” she said. As she said so she heard the door open behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Neelix enter.
“Do you require assistance, Neelix?” she said.
“Maybe. I’m worried about Naomi,” Neelix said. He sighed, then added, “I messed up. I should’ve told her sooner, but I didn’t and I think waiting only made it worse.”
“How much did you tell her?” Seven said.
“Not much, just that the Flyer was in trouble and had to land. I didn’t tell her it crashed though.”
“I’ve found that Naomi is more clever and resilient than many on board Voyager give her credit for. She may well be angry that she wasn’t informed sooner about her mother’s situation, but I doubt that will hold for long. She will understand that you were only trying to protect her.”
“I could’ve done a better job of it, but thanks anyway Seven. Since she knows now, maybe you should talk to her before going down there to join the rescue team. She noticed how you weren’t saying much to her the past few days.”
“I will do that. Currently I am mapping the caverns around the crash site.” Seven stopped, and looked up from her console. “Do you have any experience mapping caverns, Neelix?”
“Not using technology like this, but I see where you’re going with that. Just tell me which buttons to push and I’ll keep the program going while you talk to Naomi.”
“Thank you,” Seven said. She gave Neelix a pat on the shoulder, a reassuring gesture that Samantha had done for her on numerous occasions. “If it is any consolation, the fact that you are willing to admit you were in error means you are unlikely to make a similar mistake in the future.”

“It doesn’t make me feel much better, Seven,” Neelix said. “but thanks for trying anyway. I suppose it’s a good thing I’m only a godparent and not a real parent.”
“That is not for me to say,” Seven said. As she started to leave, her comm badge chirped.
“Commander Chakotay to Seven of Nine.”
“Yes, Commander,” Seven said.
“Rescue Team Alpha needs that data,” Chakotay said, his voice suggesting urgency. Seven sighed. “I will meet you at the transporter site.” She closed the communication and turned to Neelix. “I don’t think I’m going to have time to talk to Naomi after all. Keep looking after her Neelix. She’ll need someone to talk to once the initial shock has worn off, if it hasn’t already.”

“Okay. And Seven? Bring them home.”
“I intend to.”

—

“Ready, Tuvok?” Tom said.
“Ready,” Tuvok said. Samantha heard much of what was going on since the crash, but wasn’t sure what they were ready for. She had been drifting in and out of consciousness the whole time since they’d crashed, and the painkillers Tom was giving her were still working but they were also making it hard to focus.

“Cross your fingers,” she heard Tom say. He reached into an open panel, touched something, and something on the panel up at the front where Tuvok was seated sparked.
“Damn,” Tom grunted.
“The magnetic relays have overloaded,” Tuvok said.
“We’d better find another way to polarize this hull, or Voyager’s sensors won’t be able to pick us up,” Tom said.
“Do not give up hope,” Tuvok said. “Probability of rescue is admittedly low, but it is not statistically impossible.”
“Comforting,” Tom said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“If we don’t make it,” Samantha said softly, “who’s going to look after Naomi?”
“The most likely outcome would be that Neelix and Seven of Nine would share that responsibility,” Tuvok said. “That is, of course, assuming we do not get rescued, which you should not rule out.”
Samantha scoffed, followed by a wince as the pain in her side flared up again.
“Our ship has Borg enhanced sensors and they still haven’t found us yet. If my honey’s tech can’t find us-”
“I’d hate to be the one who gives Seven the order to abandon the search,” Tom said under his breath, not realizing that Samantha could hear him.
“Shut up, Tom,” she said.
“Sorry,” he replied, looking embarrassed.
“You are concerned for your daughter, this is understandable,” Tuvok said. “I would remind you however that I am also a parent. My youngest child has been without her father for four years. Yet I am certain of her well-being. Your child will likewise survive and prosper, no matter what becomes of us.”
“He’s right,” Tom said, the first time she’d heard him say anything to or about Tuvok that wasn’t dripping with sarcasm since the crash. “There’s not a sentient on Voyager that wouldn’t take a phaser blast for that kid and you know it.”
Samantha felt tears well up, but not from the pain.

“Thank you,” she said.

—

Seven of Nine walked around the cavern with her tricorder out, trying to learn everything she could about the cavern they were in. She, along with Chakotay, Joe Carey, and the rest of Rescue Team Alpha had found a piece of one of the Delta Flyer’s nacelles. While Chakotay informed the captain, Seven put together the data she collected. The cavern ahead of them had collapsed, but there was a hull signature behind the debris. She almost smiled, certain that not only had Sam and the others been found but they were likely alive, albeit trapped. Trapped however was preferable to dead under the majority of circumstances.

Soon the other rescue teams were there, as were the phaser drills. She continued scanning as the drills operated, making sure that the activity didn’t cause another cave-in that would kill them as well. As progress was made, Seven was able to get more information in her tricorder about the cavern ahead of them, including the composition of the gas…
“Oh no,” she uttered before yelling at the team to stop the drills.
“What is it?” Carey asked. She handed him her tricorder.
“Fluorine gas,” she said. “If we pierce the final layer with a phaser it will ignite, destroying the cave, the Delta Flyer, and us with it.”
“Son of a bitch,” Carey said. “How did that even happen?”
“We could name this whole solar system after Murphy’s Law,” Chakotay said in exasperation. “We can’t just give up and leave them there, but long range sensors show yet another ion storm coming which would likely cause another cave in cutting off all hope.”
“Another ion storm?” Seven said, not even hiding the shock in her voice. Ion storms were not a rare thing in the galaxy, but for a single star system to have four of them, four of massive size, in less than an Earth standard week was so ridiculous that she felt like punching something, regardless of the fact that doing so would accomplish approximately nothing.
“Beaming through rock isn’t impossible,” Carey said. “It’s the amount that’s keeping us from getting our people out of there. Maybe if we keep drilling, but stop just before we reach where the gas is-”
“Except the transporter beam would likely ignite the gas as well,” Seven said.
“Possible,” Carey admitted. “But I don’t have any other ideas.”

“Nor do I,” Seven admitted.
“Alright,” Chakotay said. “you two try to come up with a way to bleed that gas out of the cave without igniting it. But work fast. We’ve got a few hours at best before the Captain gives the order to abort the mission.”

-o-

Inside the Delta Flyer, Tom Paris was recording a goodbye message for B’Elanna. Samantha didn’t want to eavesdrop, but it was difficult giving how she couldn’t move, and the ship, while larger on the inside that a standard shuttlecraft, just didn’t have enough room for there to be much in the way of private space. Tuvok was writing out his message to his family on a PADD. Sam wasn’t sure which way she was going to go with that just yet, or even if she should bother. Would anyone ever see or hear my last words anyway? she thought.

“Warning. Life support has fallen to critical levels,” the computer said, cutting off Tom mid-sentence.
“Don’t mind the computer, she’s just jealous that I’m spending my last few moments talking to you. So long,” Tom said. As he hit the button to end recording, Samantha let out a bitter laugh.
“There are men who can’t say ‘I love you.’ And Tom Paris is their God-king,” she said.
“Do you really want to spend your final moments on the mortal coil being a smart ass, Sam?” Tom said, though there was no real anger to speak of in his voice, just resignation. She believed he didn’t really care how she spoke to him at the end, just that he was used to being the one to come back with a quip, so why stop now.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and she meant it. She chalked up this uncharacteristic pettiness to the slowly fading sedatives and painkillers in her system. Tom had offered her more as there was still several doses worth in the Flyer’s medkit, but she refused. She did not want to be doped up when she made her own goodbye message, which she finally decided would be a visual one, like Tom’s. With Tom’s helping her up since she still couldn’t walk, she got into the chair and started the recording.
“Computer, encode message for delivery to Naomi Wildman, and Seven of Nine.”
“Acknowledged,” the computer said.
“Hi,” she said. “I know you’re both feeling very sad right now but I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay? First of all, I love you. Both of you. Naomi, I am so proud of you. How smart you are, how funny, how kind, how determined to learn new things. You are going to grow up to do extraordinary things. And you listen to Seven of Nine and to Neelix, they’ll be taking care of you now.

“Seven, Annika, I know that this will be harder on you than anyone. But don’t let it stop you from continuing to explore your humanity. Don’t be afraid to keep learning new things, about other organics and about yourself. Don’t use me as anchor. Mourn for however long you feel is right, but if another girl comes along who makes your heart beat faster the way I did, don’t pass on that chance.” Samantha stopped talking for a moment, wiping tears out of her eyes.
“Goodbye, Naomi. Goodbye, Annika Hansen. I love you both, so much.”
“Warning. Oxygen depletion in ten minutes,” the computer said just before Sam ended the recording.

Sam heard a sniff, and turned to see Tom Paris wiping his eyes.
“Okay, I want a do-over,” he said.

—

Neelix walked onto the holodeck, the forest from the Flotter stories still smoldering from when the trees had been burned in the last chapter. From what he knew of the story there was at least one way, if not more, to restore it, but it appeared that Naomi had not done so yet. He considered for a moment that maybe she just hadn’t figured out how, but realized that far more likely was she wasn’t even trying. She was probably too upset about everything that was going on with her mother and the Delta Flyer.

“Naomi?” he called out.
“Go away!” Trevis, a character from the holonovel yelled at him. The anthropomorphized tree looked as angry as his voice suggested he was, though if it was at him or at the fact that he was still partially smoldering he wasn’t sure.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Trevis continued.
So he’s mad at me then, Neelix thought. Can’t say I blame him.

“You lied,” another voice said. Neelix saw Flotter, a water elemental type character,  standing just behind and the to the right of Trevis.
“I thought you were vaporized,” Neelix said.
“Naomi re-liquified me. Now leave!”

Neelix sighed. He didn’t have time for this, so he told the computer to delete the characters.
“Unable to comply,” the computer’s voice said. “Holodeck controls have been encoded.”
“Great, probably something Seven taught her,” Neelix said. “Look, Flotter, Trevis, I know I made a mistake. I should’ve told her sooner. That’s why I’m here to apologize, to try and make things right.”

“I wonder if the liar can swim,” Flotter said.
“We could always hang him from one of my branches,” Trevis said.
Good gods who wrote this thing? Neelix thought. This is supposed to be for children.
“Naomi,” Neelix called out. “Please let me talk to you.”
“It’s okay,” he heard Naomi’s voice say. She stood from behind the fallen tree she’d been hiding behind.
“You be nice,” Trevis said.
“No more lying,” Flotter said, pointing a finger in Neelix’s face. Neelix walked around the two characters and went and sat next to Naomi.
“Is my mother dead?” she asked, not looking him the eye.
“We don’t know,” Neelix said. “The rescue operation is still going on.”
“What happened?”
“The Flyer was hit by an ion storm. They tried to land on the planet below us to do repairs, but crashed.”
“I saw debris. Fires. A crater.” Neelix noticed that Naomi still wasn’t looking at him when she talked, like she couldn’t bear to look at him after he’d kept her mother’s situation from her.
“But not the hull. Until we know for sure, I am not giving up on them being alive. Seven of Nine hasn’t, she’s down there helping with the rescue effort right now.”
“Do you really think they might find her?”
“Yes, I do. Your mother has Tom Paris and Tuvok with her, and they’ve survived worse than a shuttle crash before.”
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth this time?”
Neelix thought about it for moment.
“I never told you this before, but when I was younger, I lost my mother. My whole family. There was a war, and they died.”
“Who started it?” Naomi said, looking at him now.

“It doesn’t really matter,” Neelix said, not wanting to admit that his people had been the aggressors. “Not anymore. Either way, it was still the worst thing that ever happened to me. I wanted to tell you the truth, but every time I came close, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know if I was protecting you, or myself. I let you down Naomi, and I am so sorry.”
“Why didn’t Seven tell me? She loves my mom, why didn’t she tell me?”
“Seven is still learning about what it’s like to be human,” Neelix said. “I don’t think she was ready for that kind of responsibility, having to be the one to tell a child that their parent was in danger. So she just stayed focus on the rescue effort. I think it helped her stay sane. Though I imagine she’s as scared as you are.”

Naomi reached out and touched Neelix’s hand. Neelix was sure she was about to say she forgave him, but the ship suddenly shuddered.
“All hands to emergency stations,” Janeway’s voice said over the comm. “The approaching ion storm has just upgraded to level eight.”
“Ion storm? What’s that?” Flotter said.

—

“Level eight? What the hell is wrong with this star system?” Joe Carey shouted when the rescue team in the cavern received the call from the captain.
“No, no, no,” Seven muttered. Progress on the rescue had been slow, but they were so close, she just knew it, even though the data on her tricorder told her it was even odds at this point. For the first time since she’d heard about the Delta Flyer’s troubles several days ago, Seven of Nine crossed the line from fear for her girlfriend’s safety into full blown anxiety. Her hand shook, unwanted visions of Samantha being crushed by kilotons of rock filled her mind, and she was pretty sure she was about to cry.

“Just a few more meters,” Chakotay told the captain over his comm badge.
“When that storm hits, your cavern is going to destabilize,” Janeway said. “You’ve got six minutes, make the most of it.”
“All right,” Chakotay said. “Keep going, we’ve almost cleared enough rock to be able to beam the whole shuttle out through the rock.”
“But we haven’t been able to clear the fluorine gas yet,” B’Elanna said.
“We’ll have to risk it,” Chakotay said. “It’s that or we lose them for good to another cave-in.”
“I swear, it’s like this system is cursed,” B’Elanna said.
“I was thinking the exact same thing,” Carey said.
“Focus,” Seven snapped at them. Rather than getting mad at her as they usually did when she was so curt, they did as she asked. She actually felt bad for having yelled at them, but this task was just too important. She made a mental note to apologize later, once Samantha was safe and sound.

—

“Warning. Oxygen depletion in two minutes,” the computer said.
“You know, I think I’m just gonna turn that damn thing off. I don’t need a stopwatch running on my impending death,” Tom said.

“In accepting the inevitable,” Tuvok said, “one finds peace.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I guess this isn’t how I figured it would all end.”
“Did you envision perhaps a more heroic death?”
“Yeah, why not? Why not go out like Captain Kirk, saving the Enterprise-B and a bunch of refugees from an anomaly? Or Captain Garrett, paving the way for peace with the Klingon Empire by going down fighting against the Romulans? I can think of worse ways to go.”
“Like bleeding out from your kidneys?” Samantha coughed out.
Tom was debating whether to not to reply to that, considering that he didn’t want to risk the last words Samantha Wildman ever heard would be sarcastic ones, when he heard a sound that it took him a second to recognize. When he did, he laughed.
“They did it,” he said after laughing. “They found us. Those are phaser noises, I’d recognize them anywhere!”

—

Seven of Nine and the rest of the team was beamed aboard just seconds after the Delta Flyer had been beamed to the shuttle bay with the aid of pattern enhancers. Seven did not wait to be dismissed before just dropping her gear on the pad and running, heading for the shuttle bay. When she got there, she saw Ensign Brooks helping Tom Paris step down. He looked a little dizzy and clearly needed the ensign’s help staying upright, but appeared otherwise unharmed, Tuvok climbing out of the shuttle right behind him.
“Sam?” she said. Tom looked at her.
“We had to have her beamed directly to sickbay,” he said. “She needed surgery for internal bleeding. I’m sure the Doc-”
Seven didn’t wait for Tom to finish. She slapped her comm badge so hard it nearly fell off.
“Seven of Nine to Naomi Wildman, meet me outside sickbay,” she said, running again, and nearly knocking over several crewmen as she made her way to sickbay. When she got there, Naomi was already outside, and Neelix was with her. The latter leaning against the bulkhead while the former was pacing until she spotted Seven.
Without saying a word, Naomi ran to her, wrapping her arms around her.
“Is she…” Seven said, but couldn’t bring herself to finish the question.
“The Doctor told us to wait outside,” Naomi said, trying not to sob as she spoke. Seven couldn’t blame her. “Seven, it’s okay that you didn’t tell me Mom was in trouble. I know you were scared. I’m scared too.”
“I’m sorry,” Seven said. “I was so focused on bringing Sam home I didn’t think about what was happening to you.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Neelix said. “She was still conscious when they beamed her on board. That has to be a good sign, right?”
“I believe it is,” Seven said, though she had to admit she wasn’t one hundred percent sure of that. The three of them waited outside in the hall, moving to let people past them when they had to but mainly waiting quietly. When the quiet got to be too much for Seven, she started to ask Naomi about how her holonovels were going, when the door to sickbay opened. The Doctor stood there, smiling.
“Naomi, Seven, you can come in. Mr. Neelix should wait out here so as not to crowd her.”
“No problem,” Neelix said, smiling himself. Seven followed behind Naomi, who quickly ran into her mother’s arms. Seven moved more slowly, not wanting to interrupt the reunion. When Sam saw her, she reached out an arm and motioned for Seven to join them in a group hug, which she did gladly.
“Good to see you again, Annie,” Sam whispered in her easy.
“Likewise,” Seven said.
“I think it goes without saying,” Sam said, “that I am never getting in a shuttle ever again.”
Seven of Nine, for the first time in what had felt like an eternity, laughed.

Prologue

Seven of Nine watched from the corner of the mess hall as the Voyager crew was throwing yet another party. It had only been about five months since the joint party thrown for her and Harry Kim, and since then there are had been several birthdays, a Bajoran religious ceremony, and now a celebration for Voyager itself, having by way of a spatial vortex just shaved another two years off its journey back to the Alpha Quadrant.

“So, why aren’t you enjoying yourself, Annie?” Samantha Wildman said, standing next to Seven with an arm around her waist. Seven took a sip from her glass of replicated champagne before answering.
“In the past year, Voyager has had years taken off it’s estimated return time on no less than four occasions. Once by Kes, once by a new course plotted with the aid of my Borg star charts in astrometrics, then there was the slipstream drive technology we took from the Dauntless before it turned out to be a trap, and now this. When it happens often enough to no longer qualify as a ‘special occasion,’ I don’t see the point in throwing a party for every single instance. Had we gained twenty years as opposed to two, then this party would make more sense to me.”
“Well, I think there’s a bit more to it than that,” Sam said. “We not only shaved more time off our journey home, we got out of dark space much sooner, which is good because most of the crew was going pants on head nanners over the lack of, well, anything visible.”
“Pants on head?” Seven muttered, confused by the metaphor.

“And add to that the fact that we helped save an innocent race from the slow motion genocide they were facing because of those Malon traders that were dumping radioactive waste in their territory.”

“However,” Seven said, “much like the shortening of the journey to the Alpha Quadrant, this is not the first time that Voyager has stepped in to save people who were being harmed by malicious outside forces.”
Sam sighed.
“Okay, you got me there,” she said, putting a hand on Seven’s back.

“Perhaps it’s something I would understand more if I were fully human,” Seven said. “As it stands right now, though, this seems like an even more meaningless symbolic gesture-” Seven’s monologue was cut off when some music began playing. Seven felt ambivalent towards it; it was not offensive to her ears, but she didn’t derive any pleasure from it either. Suddenly, Samantha took Seven’s drink from her and put both their glasses down on a nearby table. Samantha, smiling, extended her hands to Seven of Nine.
“Shut up and dance with me,” Samantha said.
Odd, Seven thought. Suddenly the music seems more pleasing.

“I am afraid I do not know how,” Seven said.
“It’s slow dancing Annie,” Samantha said. “it’s kinda hard to screw up. Just follow my lead and we’ll be fine. It’s not like we’ll do doing the tango.”
“I do not know what the tango is, but perhaps you’ll teach me that later.”
“We’ll see.”

Chapter One

While Seven of Nine was finishing her preparations for a mission to survey a proto-nebula she’d be taking with Tom, B’Elanna, and the Doctor, Samantha walked into cargo bay 2.
“Hey, Annie,” she said. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?”
“No. I am almost finished,” Seven said. “Are you sure you don’t wish to come with us?”

“I appreciate the offer,” Sam replied. “But one, nebulas are not really my thing, I’m a biologist not an astronomer. And two, those class-2 shuttles aren’t really well suited to seating five comfortably.”
“I’ve actually had some thoughts about that,” Seven said. “Though I’d rather not go into details until I’ve had a chance to discuss it with Mister Paris since he has more practical experience with small craft than I do.”
“Why honey,” Sam said, smiling. “Is that humbleness I hear coming from you?”

“I have been perfectly willing to admit my shortcomings in the past,” Seven said, shaking her head. “Yet somehow each time it is treated as though it is unusual. While I have extensive knowledge about the operation of small spacecraft in my memory, as a drone I was never required to use it. Lieutenant Paris not only has years of training and practice, he has also demonstrated an innate talent for it. Not seeking his insight would-” Seven was cut off by the sound of her comm badge chirping.
“Doctor to Seven of Nine, we’re waiting for you in the shuttle bay.”
“I was unaware I was late Doctor,” Seven said.
“You aren’t actually. Apparently, the departure time was moved up by ten minutes, which I was only informed of five minutes ago. You can blame Mister Paris for that.”
Samantha could hear a quiet, “I said I was sorry!” come over the badge and assumed that it was Tom. She quickly covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Regardless,” the Doctor continued. “If you are ready, please report to the shuttle as soon as possible.”
“On my way,” Seven said, tapping her badge to end the conversation. “Well, see you when I get back.”

“Just so you know,” Samantha said. “Naomi insists on helping me prepare dinner tonight, so if my quarters seem messier than usual when you get back you’ll know why.”
Seven smiled and gave Samantha a quick hug as she headed out.
“To borrow a phrase from Lieutenant Kim,” she said before the cargo bay door closed behind her, “Don’t burn down the ship while I’m away.”

“Aw, you’re no fun,” Samantha said in mock disappointment.

—

Lieutenant Harry Kim stood at his station on the bridge, feeling good about the day. It had now been approximately six months since his last Year of Hell flashback, and the Doctor had finally agreed to reduce the dosage on his PTSD medication.
That good feeling went away when he heard the beep and looked down.
“We’re receiving a distress call from the away team,” he said. “They’ve been caught in the gravimetric shear of a plasma surge.”

“Bridge to Transport Room 1, prepare for emergency beam out,” Captain Janeway said.

“On it,” Ensign Todd Mulcahey’s voice replied. “I’ve got a partial lock on them, but unless their shuttle clears the nebula…”
“It won’t,” Harry said. “They’ve lost propulsion.”

“Then it’s going to be a rough transport,” Mulcahey said, “Resetting pattern buffers…”
“Harry, get down there and help-”
“Got them, Captain,” Mulcahey said. “Their signals are clearing.”
“Good work, Ensign,” Janeway said. “I’m on my way down there now.”
—

When Seven of Nine came out of transport she looked around. She couldn’t quite place it, but she’d felt something odd during transport. She couldn’t come up with the proper word to describe it, but was certain that she had never felt it before. Everyone else who had been on the shuttle seemed fine, though, both Tom and B’Elanna smiling in relief as they stepped off the platform.
“Well, that was certainly exciting,” the Doctor said.

“As potentially fatal occurrences go,” Seven said, “that one was relatively mundane.”
“Only on a Starfleet ship could a sentence like that be uttered,” Tom said.
“Well I-” The Doctor’s form flickered suddenly. A look of panic crossed his holographic face. “My emitter has been damaged!”

“I’ll transfer your program to sickbay,” B’Elanna said, moving quickly to the main console in the transport room. While she tapped away at the console, the Doctor vanished, and his mobile emitter fell to the ground. Seven was close enough to pick it up right away.
“Did you get him transferred in time?” Tom asked.
“Doctor to transport room 1, report,” a voice chimed over the comm.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” B’Elanna said, walking over to where Seven stood to take a look at the emitter. “Doctor, it looks like some of your emitter circuits were fused during transport. I can probably repair it but I’ll want to run a diagnostic on it first. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Please, do whatever it takes,” the Doctor’s voice said, sounding concerned.
“Trust me, Doc,” B’Elanna said, a confident grin on her face. “Mulcahey? I’ll need to borrow you for a bit. meet me in the science lab.”
“Yes ma’am,” the Ensign said, following B’Elanna as she left.

Tom looked at Seven and shrugged.
“Well, that trip was a lot shorter than I’d hoped for,” he said.

“Since you’re here Lieutenant Paris,” Seven said. “I have a matter I was hoping to discuss with you during the mission.”
“Right, I remember you making a comment about making improvements to our shuttles. I’ve had a few ideas of my own about that.”

—

Samantha was awoken suddenly when Seven of Nine sat up abruptly, breathing heavy like she’d just been snapped out of a particularly bad nightmare.
“Baby?” Samantha said, groggy, “What’s wrong?”
“I need to get to the bridge,” Seven said.
Samantha frowned. “Annie, did you have a nightmare?”
“I certainly hope so,” Seven said as she slid out of bed, grabbing her uniform jacket off the back of one of the chairs around the dinner table, still not entirely clean from last night, and headed out the door, only partially zipping it up.
Worried, Samantha tossed the sheets and grabbed the first clothes she could grab to put on, a civilian outfit she didn’t particular care for in terms of how it looked but kept for its comfort on days when she was off duty and had no intention of leaving her quarters. Any concern about her crewmates mocking the outfit were pushed aside and she jogged to try and catch up to her seemingly panic-driven Borg girlfriend before she could get to the bridge.

“Wait, Annie, hold up,” Sam said, just managing to get in the turbolift with Seven of Nine before the door closed. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Seven sighed.
“I apologize for alarming you Sam,” she said. “With any luck, I am in error, though if that is the case I will need to speak to the Doctor about making repairs to my cranial implant.”
“Why?”

“My proximity transceiver has been activated. It could indicate Borg presence nearby.”

Samantha’s eyes went wide.
“So, Bridge?” she said.
“Bridge,” Seven replied, the turbolift moving as it accepted what Seven has said as a command.

“Are you sure?” Samantha said.
“No,” Seven said. “This may well prove to be a false alarm, but I cannot risk the safety of this ship on that possibility.”
“Agreed,” Samantha said. Just before the lift reached its destination, Samantha glanced down at the civilian outfit she was wearing. “If any of the bridge crew see this get up I will never hear the end of it,” she muttered.
Seven looked Samantha up and down.
“Perhaps,” she said. “The color scheme does not compliment your features.”
Samantha smirked. “If anybody other than you said that, I’d be insulted,” she said right before the turbolift doors opened. “I’ll just go back to my quarters if that’s alright with you,” she whispered to Seven, who nodded before stepping out onto the bridge.

—

“Commander,” Seven said to Chakotay shortly after exiting the turbolift.
“Seven, good morning,” he said, only briefly looking in her direction as he handed a PADD to Harry Kim.
“That remains to be seen,” she said, repeating in more specific detail what she had told Sam.
“Are you sure?” Harry said. “We’ve been running sensors sweeps non-stop all night, gathering data on the proto-nebula. We haven’t detected any Borg signatures at all.”
“Perhaps the nebula could mask a ship’s signal?” she said, feeling conflicting emotions as she said so. She didn’t like being wrong on principle, but this instance she very badly wanted to be.

“Even a Borg cube couldn’t last ten seconds in there,” Harry said, looking at the nebula on Voyager’s viewscreen.
“Maybe it’s a false alarm,” Chakotay said. “A malfunction in your transceiver maybe?”

“Possibly,” Seven said. “I will go and speak to the Doctor.”
Chakotay nodded.
“I’ll keep an eye out,” Harry said. “Just in case.”
Seven nodded. “Thank you,” she said, heading for the turbolift once again. The feeling of actually wanting to be mistaken was a new one to her, and she wasn’t quite ready to accept it, but she did feel less afraid. For Sam and Naomi’s sake, she thought, this had better be a malfunction.

As soon as she got to sickbay, and relayed her concerns to the Doctor, he immediately took out a medical tricorder and began scanning. He was only seconds in when she flinched suddenly.
“Seven?” the Doctor said.
“I felt it again,” she replied. “Stronger this time.”

“I don’t know what could be causing it if there aren’t actually any Borg nearby. I wonder if-” Whatever the Doctor was going to say next was lost when the ship went to red alert.
“Dammit,” she said. “The one time I wanted to be wrong.”
“Chakotay to Seven of Nine. Looks like you were right, we’ve detected a Borg force field in the science lab on deck 8.”
“How many drones?” she asked.
“Unknown. Tuvok is taking a security team there now.”
“I will meet him there,” Seven said, heading for the exit to sickbay.

“Seven,” the Doctor said, sounding worried. “My mobile emitter is in that lab.”
“Doctor this is not the time to-”

“This isn’t about my freedom Seven. It’s about the 29th century technology that the Borg may have already assimilated.”
Seven groaned. Every curse word she’d heard since she came on board last year fought in her mind to be the one she said in response to the prospect.
“No,” she said. “I won’t let them do that. I will not let them take this ship. I will not let them have Sam or Naomi.” With that, she headed out, taking a hand phaser with her as she did so. When she got to the lab, Tuvok, Lieutenant Ayala, and two others whom she recognized by face but not by name were at the lab’s partially open door, two on each side. An all too familiar green glow emanated from the lab.
Tuvok saw her approach and nodded. She nodded back, and Tuvok and Ayala pulled the door the rest of the way open, the other two guards going in, phaser rifles raised. Seven went in right behind them, Tuvok and Ayala behind her.
“He’s alive,” one of the guards in front of her said, looking down at an injured but surprisingly unassimilated Ensign Mulcahey, but Seven’s focus quickly shifted to the object at the center of the room.
It looked like a Borg maturation chamber, the kind she had been put in when she was first assimilated as a child, the way all those who were taken before their physical maturity were before being fitted for implants. Like, she thought. But not quite. I’ve never seen one that looked like this before.

“This resembles a Borg maturation chamber,” she said to Tuvok. “But there are components which are unfamiliar.”
“Sir,” Ayala said, holding a tricorder over Mulcahey. “There’s puncture wounds from Borg nanoprobe tubes, and the signature on the probes match Seven of Nine’s, but she was in sickbay.”
Seven went over to both of them. She took the tricorder from Ayala.
“He is correct,” she said, sounding confused. She looked at Ayala, then Tuvok, as if hoping either of them might have an explanation. The latter only raised an eyebrow, the former shrugged.  “I don’t know how this happened. None of this makes sense. A tissue sample appears to have been extracted. There’s no sign of nanoprobes in the Ensign except around the wound. You should get him to sickbay though, he does appear to have a concussion.”
Tuvok motioned for Ayala and one of the other guards to do just that. Seven handed Ayala back his tricorder, and went back to look at the maturation chamber. She took a deep breath and stepped up to where the sensors said the force field was. She took one step forward and passed through it.
“What are you doing?” Tuvok asked.
“It recognized me as Borg,” she said, tapping button on the side of the chamber. “There’s a control here to open a panel on the side. We’ll be able to see what’s in…” Her train of thought was disrupted when she saw something she did not expect to see. A Borg drone, in a fetal state.
“That shouldn’t be possible,” she said. “The Borg expand their numbers by assimilation, not procreation.“

—

Captain Janeway looked at the “baby” through the transparent panel on the side of its maturation chamber. Once Seven of Nine and Tuvok briefed her on what they knew, she had only one thought.

I haven’t even had my coffee yet.
“So, just so I’m sure I understand you correctly,” she said, “you’re saying that when we beamed you off the shuttle yesterday, some of your nanoprobes got mixed up with the Doctor’s mobile emitter?”

“Correct,” Seven said.
“And Ensign Mulcahey DNA was used as a template to create this, baby drone?”
“A simplification of what occurred, but accurate,” Seven said.
“We have erected a Level 10 force field around the chamber,” Tuvok said. “As you can see, the drone’s mass has increased since you arrived in the lab. Seven says that it is maturing at a rate twenty-five times the normal rate for a Borg.”
“Good. The force field I mean. Post twenty-four hour security around the lab.”
“Very well Captain,” Tuvok said.
“Captain,” Seven said. “You intend to let it mature?”

Janeway nodded. “That’s correct. Right now, it’s not a direct threat to the ship, and it didn’t assimilate Mulcahey. We’re dealing with something new here. If it becomes a threat we can beam the whole chamber out into space, but I don’t want to do that unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
Seven didn’t respond right away. Janeway gathered that Seven was concerned about the ship’s safety, which was good, but she hoped that Seven wouldn’t act rashly.
“I,” Seven finally said. “have concerns.”
“As do I,” Tuvok said to Seven. “However the final decision is the Captain’s.”
“Understood, but I wanted my concerns noted for the record.”
“They are Seven,” Janeway said. “don’t worry. I want you and B’Elanna to go to astrometrics. Modify the sensors so you can scan the drone from there.”
“Yes, Captain,” Seven said, still sounding apprehensive but not pushing the issue.

—

Seven of Nine went over the data twice to be sure, before showing it to B’Elanna.

“Damn, this thing is growing quickly,” B’Elanna said. “It was a fetus when we started this, now it’s about the size of a six-year-old.”
“A six-year-old boy,” the Doctor’s voice said, speaking to them from a monitor since he was still unable to leave sickbay. “From what I can tell the drone is male. Probably due to the source material. According to my own scans Borg implants compose approximately twenty-seven percent of his body, but he’s mostly human.”
“A human with polydutonic alloy plating,” B’Elanna said. “The same material as your holo-emitter. The nanoprobes must’ve extrapolated that technology for its design.”

“Definitely,” Seven said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Even as a single drone, this unit could easily threaten the ship with such an advanced level of technology; five hundred years ahead of what the collective had now. “I have already dampened its proximity transceiver to prevent it from contacting the Borg Collective.”
“I’ve located my mobile emitter,” the Doctor said, sounding less than pleased much to Seven’s surprise. “Embedded in his cerebral cortex. I don’t think we can remove it without killing him.”
“That may become necessary,” Seven said. “Continue with the scans, the Captain wants a full report on the drone’s capabilities.”
“Already almost done, unless it invents something new while I’m recording the data,” B’Elanna said. “You know, if we can keep it from contacting the collective, we might be able to convince it to stay with us, the way you did. Imagine what we could do with 29th century Borg technology on our side.”
“That decision rests with the Captain,” Seven said. “However I personally would advise against that.”
“You’re probably right,” B’Elanna said. “but I’d rather not throw away a potential source of new technology unless I had to. I mean, look at this.”
Seven stepped away from the console she was working on to look at what was on B’Elanna’s monitor. The list of abilities the ship’s chief engineer had managed to identify in the new drone was impressive, to put it mildly.

“Internal transport nodes. Fascinating,” Seven said. “I must get this to the Captain immediately. The drone will fully mature in only a few hours, but its shielding is not yet active. She needs to make a decision while destroying it would still be an easy option.”
“Hmm. I wonder if I should tell Mister Mulchaey he’s a father,” the Doctor said in a joking tone of voice.

“I doubt he would treat the matter so lightly Doctor,” Seven said as she took the PADD B’Elanna offered her before leaving astrometrics.

—

Captain Janeway put down the PADD Seven of Nine had handed her, and asked a question she’d actually been thinking about since earlier that day.
“Seven, what normally happens when a Borg exits a maturation chamber?” she said.
“It awaits instructions from the collective,” Seven said.
“So without those instructions, it has no designation. No purpose.”

“Captain, are you suggesting we-”
“Exactly. If we can keep him from interfacing with the collective, we can give him a purpose.”
“Captain, this is the most advanced drone to ever exist. It could easily threaten Voyager, even without the Collective.”
“I understand your concern, Seven, and I am not taking destroying the drone off the table entirely. But if we can teach it our values, we will have a powerful ally on our side.”
“If we fail,” Seven said, “No, let me rephrase. If we succeed at convincing the drone to become part of this crew, but the Borg are able to take us and assimilate it anyway, the Collective will become more powerful than ever. I am uncomfortable with taking that risk.”
“Noted. But I would remind you, Seven, that there were some on this crew who made the same suggestion about you.”
“This situation is different,” Seven said, a hint of anger in her voice.
“Is it?”

“There are similarities yes, but I would remind you that I am not enhanced by technology five hundred years ahead of our time, and my parents conceived me naturally rather than having their DNA stolen by rogue nanoprobes.”
“Okay,” Janeway conceded. “Fair enough on that point. It would seem we are at an impasse here.”
“You could just order me to work with the drone,” Seven said.
“True, true. But much like destroying the drone I’d rather save that as a last resort.”
After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Seven of Nine said something that Janeway did not expect.
“Have you consulted Ensign Mulcahey on this matter, Captain?”
“No. Why?”
“Since it was his DNA that was used as the template for the drone that would, in effect, make him the father. Shouldn’t he have a say in the matter?”
“Nice try,” Janeway said, smirking. “But what started this was your nanoprobes, and the Doctor’s holo-emitter. If anyone could be said to be that drone’s parents, it’s you two, not Mulcahey.”
“There are multiple species in this galaxy who procreate with three parents rather than two,” Seven said.
Janeway sighed. “Fine, fine, I’ll play along with this but only because I’m tired of arguing with you.” Janeway touched a button on her desk. “Commander, has Ensign Mulcahey been cleared to leave sickbay yet?”
“Yes Captain,” Chakotay said. “He was released a few hours ago. Why?”
“Have him meet me back in sickbay. I have something to discuss with him, the Doctor, and you. In private.”
“Understood,” Seven said.

—

Seven of Nine was not thrilled with the situation at hand, but having her lover at her side lessened the discomfort. Despite her best efforts, she ultimately lost her argument. She made her case as best she could that the drone should simply be destroyed, but at the end, she found herself simply outvoted. The Captain putting it up to a vote had not been expected, but when it was suggested, Seven assumed that at worst it would end in a tie, with her and the Doctor on the side of destroying the drone so that the mobile emitter could possibly be recovered. More likely as she saw it, the Captain would be the lone vote for not destroying it. Seven had assumed that Ensign Mulcahey would carry some resentment over having his genetic material taken against his will.

“Yeah, okay,” he’d said instead after the Captain told him her plans.
“What?” Seven had said, in the same tone of voice that Samantha would say the same word when Seven informed her of what was going to happen.
And now, here she was, in the science lab. Tuvok and three armed guards behind her, Sam holding her hand, and a drone in front of her.
“Like ripping off a bandage,” Seven said, repeating a phrase she’d learned from Sam last year. She went over to a console. “Maturation cycle is complete.”
The drone stepped out of its alcove.
“We are Borg. State this unit’s designation,” he said.
“You do not have a designation,” Seven said. “You are not part of the collective, you are an individual. You will receive your instructions from me.” So far the drone had not made any threatening gestures. He stood perfectly still, his arms at his sides. Seven thought for a moment that perhaps this task would succeed after all, and that the Captain had in fact made the right decision.
“Insufficient,” the drone said.
Or maybe I’m right and this is a terrible idea, Seven thought.

“You will comply,” Seven said. “My designation is Seven of Nine.”
“Seven of Nine,” the drone repeated. “What is this unit’s designation?”
“He wants a name,” Samantha whispered in Seven’s ear. “Maybe you should give him one.”
Seven looked at Samantha, and nodded. She turned back to face the drone.
“You are an individual. You may choose a designation for yourself,” she said. It wasn’t what Samantha had suggested, but she didn’t want to admit that she simply did not feel comfortable with the idea of naming a new lifeform.
“Insufficient. Seven of Nine, state our designation.”

Seven sighed, then turned to Tuvok. “He does not understand me. His responses are programmed. I must initiate a direct neural interface.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Tuvok said.
“Yeah, I’m wondering that myself,” Samantha said.

“There is no other way for me to communicate with him,” Seven said. “Sam, I would prefer you remain outside, in case something goes wrong.”
“But-”
“I will not be responsible for robbing Naomi of her mother,” Seven said. “Please,” she added in a softer tone.
Samantha frowned, but then did as she was asked, moving outside of the lab, and behind one of the security officers.

Seven moved towards the drone, and extended her arm. The drone reflexively stepped back, surprising Seven.
“You will not be harmed,” she said. “You will be provided with instructions.”
The drone stepped forward again, close enough for Seven to extend her arm, and extend her assimilation tubules, though not for the purpose which they’d originally been designed for. After a few moments, Seven glanced at Tuvok.

“He understands,” she told him, but suddenly the drone grabbed her arm. She grunted in pain from the grip.
“The drone is probing my neural pathways,” she said, wincing. “It is trying to assimilate all of my knowledge.”
“Annie?” she heard Sam call from behind her, but the sounds she heard after suggested that the guards were holding her back from entering. Tuvok was at her side now, a hand phaser pointed at the drone.
“Stop it,” she told the drone. Tuvok fired, but a force field surrounded the drone immediately.
“Terminate… interface!” she grunted. The drone just stared blankly ahead, as if he didn’t even hear her.
“You are hurting me,” Seven said. The drone looked at her, and without changing his facial expression even slightly, stopped probing Seven’s mind. Seven retracted her tubules and stepped back.
“I will comply,” the drone said.

Seven, after taking a few calming breaths, finally spoke.
“We’ll need to try something else. Perhaps Borg data nodes will work. I’ve already activated its linguistic database, so communicating will be easier.”

—

Samantha and Neelix walked down the corridor towards engineering, each carrying a Borg data node with them.
“It wasn’t necessary to help me, Samantha,” Neelix said.
Samantha smiled.
“I’m happy to help. Besides, ferreting all this stuff back and forth is going to be the only chance I’ll get to spend time with Seven today since the Captain has her so busy with the new drone.”
“As good an excuse as any,” Neelix said. “Still haven’t named him yet?”
“Seven insists he should pick his own,” Samantha said as they reached the door to engineering. “I’d try to talk her into it but I usually know when I can’t get her to budge on something.”
As they stepped inside, Neelix spoke up to grab B’Elanna’s attention.
“Special delivery! Two Borg data nodes.”
“More,” B’Elanna said, sounding exasperated. “Well, you know the drill,” she said, waving towards the data port.
“Having a bad day, B’Elanna?” Samantha asked.
“I’m just wondering how many more Borg hitchhikers we’re going to pick up along the way. They’ve suddenly turned from a force of nature threatening the galaxy into annoying in-laws.”
“I don’t think it happening twice counts as a pattern,” Neelix said as he hooked up the first node.
B’Elanna scoffed. “Or maybe it’s the collective’s new strategy. They don’t assimilate anymore, they just show up and look helpless.”
“Well, if it keeps them from killing people would that be so bad if they did?” Neelix said.
“Look,” B’Elanna said, “we don’t know what this drone will turn into! I don’t think I’m being paranoid here, it’s gone from infant to adult in one day.”
“It’ll be what we help it to be,” Samantha said.
“Exactly,” Neelix added.
B’Elanna rolled her eyes. “How Starfleet of both of you. I don’t even know why I brought it up. I just hope your girlfriend does a good job, Sam. We’ll all pay if she blows it.”
“I’ll pass on your vote of confidence,” Samantha said dryly. And I thought Annika and B’Elanna were finally getting along, she thought.

B’Elanna just shook her head and went back to work, while Samantha hooked up the Borg data node she was carrying to another datalink. Once both nodes were filled, she and Neelix headed back to the lab.
“Is it just me,” Neelix said as they left engineering, “or is B’Elanna more agitated than usual lately? I mean, wasn’t she saying we should try and keep the drone just yesterday?”
“She’s been a little off for awhile really,” Samantha said. “I think she’s still upset about what happened to her Maquis friends back home. Can’t say I blame her to be honest.”
“Did you lose anyone to the Dominion?” Neelix asked.
“Not that I know of, but it’s also been months since we’ve been able to contact Starfleet.”
“True. In fact, sometimes I think people on Voyager actually forget there’s a war going on back home. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, though.”
“Who’s to say it can’t be both,” Samantha said. She and Neelix were quiet the remainder of the way to the lab. When they stepped inside, Seven turned and smiled when she saw Samantha enter. She stepped past Neelix to take the data node that Samantha was holding.
“How goes the upload?” Samantha said.
“It is going well,” Seven said. “The drone is assimilating the knowledge most efficiently.”

“And he hasn’t tried grabbing you again?” Samantha said.

“He has not.”
“Good. I might have to hurt him if he did.”
“Please do not take offense, but I believe you lack the combat expertise necessary to present a threat to… You were joking weren’t you?”
Samantha nodded. “You’re busy today, don’t worry about it.”
“Very well then,” Seven said as she plugged the first node in while Neelix set the one he was carrying down on nearby table. The drone stepped off his platform. Samantha found it rather amusing how his head seemed to bobble slightly as he walked.

“We are Borg. State this unit’s designation.”
“We have compiled information into this data node for you to assimilate,” Seven said, ignoring the request.

“We do not understand,” the drone said.
“You will,” Seven replied. “But first you must assimilate this data.”
Samantha found herself amused again, this time by Seven, who told the drone that he must assimilate data the way that she used to have to tell Naomi to brush her teeth.
“Give me your arm,” Seven said the to the drone. He did not move. Seven sighed and looked at Samantha.
“Was Naomi ever this difficult?” she said.
“She had a rough patch,” Samantha said. “but it only lasted a few months. Don’t tell her I told you, though, she’s very sensitive about it.”

Seven nodded, then took the drone’s arm herself and held it over the data node.
“Inject one of your assimilation tubules into this access port,” she said.
“We do not understand,” the drone said.
“If you don’t mind,” Samantha said as she moved to stand closer to Seven. “might I suggest you demonstrate what it is you want him to do? You have tubules of your own after all.”
Seven nodded.
“An excellent suggestion Sam, thank you.” Seven then did just that, briefly extended her own tubules into the data port, before quickly removing them. “Now, you do the same, but use yours to assimilate the data in the node,” she said to the drone. It did so, and Samantha watched as the drone’s face changed, his mouth open partially, his human eye opening wider. His face bore a similar kind of awe and wonder to it that Naomi had had the first time she’d been shown what the warp core looked like.

“Your designation is Seven of Nine. Borg,” the drone said after removing his tubules.
“Yes,” Seven said. The drone turned to face Neelix.
“Your designation is Neelix. Talaxian.”
“That’s me,” Neelix said.
“Your designation,” the drone said, now looking at Samantha, “is Samantha Wildman, Human.”

“Correct,” Samantha said. She smiled as she put an arm around Seven’s shoulder. “Well done, Annie. The data nodes were a great idea. With the added bonus of preventing any injury.”
“Annie? Does Seven of Nine have an alternate designation?”
“It is,” Seven said, pausing briefly before continuing, “a designation that only Samantha is allowed to call me. You are to continue referring to me as Seven of Nine, or as just Seven.”

The drone started looking around the room, turning in place.
“I am in a laboratory, on a vessel, traveling through interstellar space,” he said.
“Yes. You’re on the Federation starship Voyager,” Neelix said.
He almost seems excited, Samantha thought. It’s kind of child-like.
“Why?” the drone asked.
Okay, very child like.
“This is a vessel of exploration,” Seven said.
“I am an explorer,” the drone said.
“We all are,” Samantha said.
“We are Borg,” the drone said.
Swing and a miss.

“You are a unique individual, one of many on Voyager,” Seven said. “This is not a Borg collective. Do you understand?”
“Individual. Yes,” the drone said, practically smiling. “I wish to assimilate more information,” he added, extending his arm towards Seven.
“Not yet,” Seven said. “First, you must meet with the ship’s Doctor for a medical examination. You will come with me. Sam, will you be joining us?”
“That’s okay, I’d just be in the way. I’ll see you later,” Samantha said.
“I may have to pass on dinner tonight. Send Naomi my regrets,” Seven said. “After we have gone to sickbay, I will upgrading one of the alcoves in the cargo bay to allow him to regenerate.”
“Okay,” Samantha said, giving Seven a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving.
“Welcome to Voyager,” she said to the drone as she left.

—

As they walked down the corridor, two guards following them, Seven of Nine listened politely as one by one the drone began vocally naming off the various components of Voyager.
“Seven of Nine,” the drone said. “Before we left the laboratory, the one designated Samantha, she touched you with her lips. I do not understand.”
“It is called a kiss,” Seven said. “She kissed me before we parted way for the day because she is my romantic partner.”
“I see. Is this why your pheromonal levels went up and your body temperature increased when she touched you?”
“That is correct, though for future reference it is considered, impolite, to discuss such matters in a public setting.” Seven glanced back at the security guards. To their credit, both were acting professional. She imagined that if any other crew members had been there, there would’ve been giggling. Or worse, were it someone with only casual regard for decorum such Brooks or Chell.

“Impolite,” the drone said. “To be not polite or courteous. Rude.”
“Also correct.”
“Will I be given a romantic partner as well?”
That time one of the guards failed to fully suppress a reaction, but Seven glared at him and he remained quiet.
“That is not how romantic entanglement works. I will discuss the admittedly complex history of my own relationship with Sam, if she gives me permission to do so, and only in private as the rest of the crew is not privy to such details. Privacy is another concept you will need to learn if you are to integrate into this crew. I should warn you though that maintaining it on this vessel can be difficult at times.”
“I am noticing that many of the other crewmembers we pass are afraid of me. I can detect their physiological responses.”
“Their fear is understandable,” Seven said. “We come from a species that is hostile to them. My position in this crew was earned, and it took a considerable amount of time. Though I admit to having made… mistakes along the way that prolonged the matter. However, as you have not directly assaulted any crewmembers since your creation, you will likely have an easier process.”
“I see,” the drone said, sounding sad, which was a surprise to Seven. “I want to know more about the collective. Tell me about the Borg.”
That was not a surprise to Seven. She knew this was going to come sooner or later.
“The Captain and I will determine when you are ready for that information,” she said. “You must not be impatient. There are other things for you to learn in the meantime, as well as adapting to life on Voyager.” Seven stopped walking when she saw the door to sickbay. She motioned for the drone to enter ahead of her.
“Good morning,” the Doctor said.
“You are the emergency medical hologram,” the drone said.
“Very observant,” the Doctor said. “Have you been given a name yet?”
“I do not have a name. Seven of Nine says I should choose my own, but according to the data I have assimilated so far, it is customary for humans to name their children. As my DNA is human, would it not be appropriate for my progenitors to give me my designation?”
“He has a point, Seven,” the Doctor said.
“Very well,” Seven said. “You name him then.”
“Why me?”
“Your mobile emitter merging with my nanoprobes in the transporter beam is responsible for the drone’s existence.”
“Wouldn’t that make both of us his parents then? And what about Mulcahey? Shouldn’t he get a say too since it was his DNA-”
“I have already discussed the matter with him,” Seven said. “He expressed no interest.”
“Well that just seems rude,” the Doctor said, as he opened his medical tricorder. Facing the drone he continued. “This is a non-invasive biomedical scan. You will not feel a thing.
“And another thing Seven,” he added as he started his scans. “I’ve been active for going on five years and I’ve yet to pick my own name.”
“A fair point. Though in all honesty I’ve wondered why you simply do not adopt the surname of your creator.”
“Doctor Zimmerman? I’ve considered it.”
“Doctor,” the drone said once the initial scan was done. “I am confused about my creation. From what I heard you and Seven of Nine say, I am an accident.”
“Well,” the Doctor said, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Yes, but these things happen.”
“It was a random technological convergence,” Seven said. “But that is irrelevant.”

“Am I unwelcome here?” the drone said.
“Unexpected,” the Doctor said. “That doesn’t have to mean unwelcome. If you are successful in integrating with the crew, you will find yourself most welcome.”
The Doctor began performing new scans, when suddenly he stopped.
“Edwin,” he said.
“I’m sorry?” Seven said, wondering where this seemingly random outburst came from.
“Edwin is Ensign Mulcahey’s middle name. I was thinking that’s what we could call you.  It’s not uncommon for human parents to name their children in such a fashion.” the Doctor said to the drone. The drone did not give any visible sign that he heard the Doctor, but after a few seconds began speaking.
“Edwin. Origin; Earth. Means ‘rich friend’ from the Old English elements ead meaning wealth or fortune, and wine meaning friend. This does seem not an appropriate name given my origins.”
“Good lord Seven, just how much data did you give him?”
“I did give him the ship’s linguistic database,” Seven said. “I did not realize he had processed that much of it already. But if the drone does not wish to be named Edwin, I suggest we not pressure him.”
“Edwin is acceptable as a designation,” the drone said. “Regardless of its inaccuracy.”

The Doctor smiled.
“Well there you go,” he said. “Welcome to the crew, Edwin.”

Seven sighed. It could be worse I suppose, she thought.

—

When Seven brought the Borg drone, now calling itself Edwin, to the Captain’s ready room, Janeway couldn’t help but notice that Seven was starting to behave almost like a proud parent, though in her own unique way.

Seven succinctly explained to her how she’d familiarized Edwin with Voyager, including a productive visit to engineering where the drone had helped B’Elanna Torres by predicting the rate of expansion of the proto-nebula.
After telling Janeway about his name and where he got it, and explaining that he had already assimilated forty-seven billion teraquads of information, he asked her if he was sufficient. When she told him he was, Edwin asked to be excused, as Torres had asked him to help improve the efficiency of the Bussard collectors.
Once he was gone, Seven remained behind.
“He’s been asking about the Borg collective,” she said. “I’ve been deflecting the conversation as much as possible, but I’m not sure how much longer I can put that off.”
Janeway stood up and clasped her hands behind her back.
“Maybe we won’t need to hold off much longer. It’s only been a few days but he’s already started fitting in well with the crew. Though from what I hear he could use some teaching in the personal space department.”
“He does still tend to stand too close to people when speaking to them,” Seven admitted. “I am working with him on that. I asked Samantha to help me, but since she never had that particular problem with Naomi she had little advice to offer.”
“Speaking of,” Janeway said. “has Edwin met Naomi yet?”
“No,” Seven said. “While he has been adapting well, as you said, and even though Sam has stated she is okay with it I admit to still being somewhat reluctant.”
Janeway nodded.
“I can see that,” she said. “The way I understand it, your relationship with Samantha started because she had similar concerns about you.”
“The similarity of the situations is not lost on me Captain, though at least in Sam’s case she did have specific instances she could point to to justify her concerns. I worry I am simply being overly cautious, as Edwin has not stolen a shuttle, or struck Harry Kim.”
“Good point. As for the matter you first brought up, wouldn’t you rather he learn about the Borg from us than from the collective?”
“The lure of perfection is powerful Captain. He may be tempted to seek out the Borg. That would pose a grave tactical risk.”
“All the more reason he should hear about them from us, but we’ll continue withholding that information for now. As an individual though he does have the right to know. I won’t give you an ultimatum, I’m going to trust your judgment on when to tell him, but you must tell him.”
“Understood, Captain. I have made the necessary upgrades to the alcove next to mine. After we have gone through a regeneration cycle, I will consult with some of the other parents on the ship to discuss the matter of how to present the information. Mister Tuvok and Mister Carey have multiple children, their experience would prove most valuable.”
“Okay. See you in the morning, Seven,” Janeway said. As Seven went to leave though, a thought occurred to her.
“Wait,” she said. “One last thing. Does Ensign Mulcahey know? About the drone’s name, I mean?”
“I do not know. Lieutenant Torres believes he will not be pleased to learn about it, however. Her exact words were, ‘Todd is going to flip his shit when he finds out.’”
Janeway smiled and chuckled.
“I hope you told her to watch her language,” she said. Seven groaned.
“After three months I’d hoped that that was finally over,” she muttered as she left the ready room.
—

Seven of Nine found herself abruptly brought out of her regeneration cycle. That in itself wasn’t unusual, though in the past when it had happened it was due either an intense nightmare, or a ship-wide alert.
Instead, she was simply not in the cycle anymore, and her eyes were opening to the site of Captain Janeway, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, and several armed guards with phaser rifles pointed in their direction.
“Captain?” Seven said.
“The drone transmitted a Borg proximity signal. Wake him,” she said.
Seven did exactly as she was told, feeling utterly disappointed, and a little worried. When Edwin opened his eyes and stepped out, Seven managed to impress herself with how level she managed to keep her tone of voice.
“You have contacted the Collective,” she said.
“I have not,” Edwin said.
“Check his transceiver,” Janeway said.
“Seven of Nine deactivated my transceiver two days ago,” Edwin said, seeming confused at the accusation rather than angry or defensive. Seven ran a tricorder over Edwin’s skull, and sighed.
“Your cranial implants have adapted,” she said. “They built a second transceiver while you were in the regeneration cycle. Tuvok, have long range scans picked up any vessels?”
“Not yet, but they have detected a transwarp conduit,” Tuvok said. “Assuming it is a Borg vessel, which is the most logical assumption, it will intercept us in approximately three hours.”
“The Borg?” Edwin said.
“Yes,” Seven said.
“I wish to meet them.”
“Seven?” Janeway said. “Looks like it’s time to have the talk.”
Seven nodded, wishing she’d had more time to prepare for this.
“Edwin, you are to follow the Captain and I to astrometrics,” she said.

“I will comply,” Edwin said.

Once there, Janeway put everything the ship’s records had on the Borg up on the large screen in the lab, including what visual logs there were of Wolf 359. Seven of Nine added some of her own from her own memory via her remaining cranial implants.
“The Borg have assimilated thousands of species,” Edwin said. What becomes of those species?”
“They lose their individuality. Everything they know becomes part of the collective’s memory, and they themselves become drones,” Seven said, bothered by the look of awe Edwin as on his face while he looked at the screen.
“I wish to experience the hive mind,” he said.
Crap, Seven thought.
“If you do that,” Janeway said. “You will no longer be unique. Your individuality will be destroyed.”

“That is undesirable,” Edwin said, now looking at Janeway.
“Very,” Janeway said.

“The Borg add voices to the collective against their will. I do not understand. Such a violent act would seem counter to the goal of seeking perfection, does it not?”
“I believe it is,” Seven said. “While I still share many of the desires I had as a part of the collective, since my link to them was severed I find their methods repulsive.”

“The Borg are one of the most destructive forces we have ever encountered,” Janeway said. “With your technology, they would become even more so.”

Edwin looked at the screen again. “That is unacceptable,” he said. “Knowledge should not be obtained through violence.”
Seven finally let go of the breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. She was ready to congratulate Edwin on coming to that conclusion faster than she had, but Commander Chakotay’s voice over the comm interrupted them.
“Red alert! All hands to battle stations. A Borg vessel is approaching.”
“Come on,” Janeway said. “we need to get the bridge. You too Edwin. You can help us enhance our defenses.”

“Understood,” Seven said. The three of them turned and exited the lab, heading for the nearest turbolift.

—

Once on the bridge, Chakotay filled them quickly.
“The Borg vessel’s moving into range,” he said. “It’s not a cube though, too small. We think it’s one of their spheres.”
“A sphere?” Janeway said. “I read about that one in the data packet Starfleet sent us. Didn’t think I’d actually get to see one.”
“We’re being scanned,” Harry Kim said from the ops console.
“They’re preparing to attack,” Seven said. She turned to Edwin. “You must help us enhance our shields. This console over here will give you access to the field generators.”

“Captain?” Chakotay said, sounding unsure.
“Do it,” Janeway said.

“We are being hailed. Captain,” Tuvok said.
“Don’t bother responding, I think we all know the spiel by now,” Janeway said.
“I can hear them,” Edwin said. “In my mind.” Seven thought he sounded afraid, as though the Borg would be able to assimilate him through thought alone. The ship shuddered.
“They’ve got a tractor beam on us,” Harry said.
“I hear them too,” Seven said, “We must resist. This ship will be destroyed if we do not.” Edwin nodded, and with a look of determination on his face, he held his arm over the console and fired off his assimilation tubules into it. Within seconds, the ship’s shields began modulating, and Voyager was able to break free of the Borg sphere’s tractor beam.
“Can you enhance our phasers?” Janeway said.
“Yes,” Edwin said.
“Do it,” Janeway said. “Tuvok, as soon as he’s done target the sphere’s propulsion systems. Be prepared to jump to warp Mister Paris.”

“Yes ma’am,” Paris said.
“Enhancements complete. You may fire,” Edwin said.
“Firing,” Tuvok said. A second later, the ship shuddered even more violently than when it had been caught in the tractor beam.
“They inverted our phaser beam with a feedback pulse,” Seven said. The ship began shuddering again as the sphere fired on them.
“They just took out our warp drive,” Paris said.
“Your technology is limited,” Edwin said. “I cannot enhance it any further. I must transport over to the sphere, and disrupt them from within.”

“They will try to assimilate you,” Seven said.
“They will fail,” Edwin said very matter-of-factly, as if he were repeating something that he shouldn’t have to. Seven didn’t like it. She imagined that Sam would feel much the same way if it were Naomi offering to go fight the Borg all alone. Unlike Naomi though, Edwin could possibly do it, though that likelihood did little to temper her concerns.

Seven looked at Janeway. Janeway looked back, and nodded.
“Harry,” Janeway said, “lock onto the drone.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Edwin said, activating his own internal transporter.
“He’s inside the sphere,” Tuvok said.
Seven turned to look at the viewscreen, and tried not to let her worry overwhelm her. The ship took another hit from the sphere’s weapons.
“Shields down to 29%,” Harry said.
“Had they not been enhanced they’d likely be down already,” Seven said.
Harry chuckled. “No doubt about that,” he said. “The Krenim were able to hurt us worse than this.”
“We haven’t survived this yet Lieutenant,” Chakotay said. “Don’t get cocky.”

Suddenly, the sphere stopped firing, and began moving.
“It’s heading towards the proto-nebula,” Tom said. “It’s gonna get crushed in there.”
Seven held back a gasp as the image of the viewscreen showed the sphere crumpling as it flew straight ahead, small pieces of it flying off into space while the rest of it collapsed in on itself like a mess hall napkin being crumpled up after its use.

“Beam back Edwin, beam back,” she muttered just before the sphere exploded, the shockwave making Voyager lilt so quickly inertial dampeners couldn’t fully compensate, and the whole bridge crew nearly lost their balance and toppled to the right.

Seven stared ahead at the viewscreen, her heart feeling like it was sinking into her stomach. The red alert lights went out and the main lights came back on, and Seven could hear Janeway giving orders to the command staff, but couldn’t process them, until Harry said something that snapped her out of it.
“I’m detecting a lifesign,” he said. “It’s the drone, he made it. He’s erected a multi-spatial force field, but it’s collapsing. I’m attempting to get a lock on.”

“When you have him,” Janeway said, looking as happy as Seven felt, “beam him to sickbay.”
“Aye Captain,” Harry said. Seven didn’t wait for permission, she bolted to the turbolift right away.
“Sickbay!” she said, wishing the lift could go faster. When she got to sickbay, the Doctor was already scanning Edwin, who was lying on the biobed, his armor looking beaten up, and a red welt on his exposed head, but otherwise he seemed fine. “Damage?”
“Several of his implants were fused in the explosion but they’re regenerating,” the Doctor said. “His biological systems are another story, Cranial trauma, internal bleeding, he’s going to need immediate surgery.” The Doctor closed his medical tricorder and moved quickly to grab his surgical equipment.
“The sphere?” Edwin said.
“Destroyed,” Seven said. “You were successful.”

Edwin closed his eyes and exhaled. “Good,” he said. He opened his eyes again and glanced at Seven.
“The Borg are aware of my existence. I could hear their thoughts when I was linked to them, taking over the sphere. They will pursue me.”
“Irrelevant,” Seven said.
“I need to get started,” the Doctor said, gently nudging Seven aside.
“No,” Edwin said. Seven’s lower lip began to quiver.
No, no, don’t do this, she thought.

“I should not exist. I am an accident. A random convergence of technologies.”
“You are unique,” Seven said, barely holding it together.
“As long as I exist,” Edwin said, “you are in danger.”
“We can talk about this later,” the Doctor said, going for Edwin’s neck with a hypospray, but it bounced off of a force field that was now suddenly surrounding Edwin’s body.
“Allow the Doctor to proceed,” Seven said in as commanding a voice as she could manage. Edwin simply looked at her, his breathing quickening as an alert noise came from the Doctor’s console.
“His synapses are failing,” the Doctor said.
“Edwin, you must comply.”
“I will not,” Edwin said, his voice shaking as his upper body convulsed.
“You must comply. Please,” Seven said forcefully. Then quietly she added, “You are hurting me.”
“You will adapt,” Edwin coughed out. Then the lights in his implants blinked out, his breathing slowed, and his body slackened, his mouth hanging partway open. Even before the Doctor walked up to her and said “I’m sorry,” Seven knew that he was gone. She couldn’t move, her eyes were beginning to wet, and she felt like she could barely breathe even though consciously she knew her lungs were fine.
Eventually, without saying a word, she managed to walk, slowly, and left sickbay, only once having to use one of the nearby beds to maintain her balance before she made it out the door.

She went back to cargo bay 2. When she stepped inside, she just looked at the alcove that Edwin had used. She hadn’t wanted it to happen, but it did. She had begun to see Edwin as her offspring. She wondered if the Doctor felt any of the loss she did. She wondered if Ensign Mulcahey had any regrets about never having spoken to him. She sighed, and sat down in front of her own alcove, and began to cry.
She wasn’t sure how much time she’d spent there when Samantha came walking in, holding a mug.
“Hey,” she said quietly.
“Hi,” Seven said back. Samantha sat down next to her and offered Seven the cup.
“Vulcan tea,” she said. “I think it may have cooled down a bit too much on the way over.”
“Thank you,” Seven said, taking the cup, but not bothering to drink it, instead focusing on the warmth of the sides of the mug in her hands.
“How are you holding up?” Samantha said.
“Not terribly well,” Seven admitted. “I feel like I lost a child.”
“Yeah, well, I can understand that,” Samantha said, shifting uncomfortably.
“Sam,” Seven said. “The Captain told me. About what really happened the day Naomi was born. The version that isn’t in the ship’s log.”
“Oh. I had no idea. You never mentioned it.”
“I did not feel I had the right to,” Seven said. “and even if I had felt I had the right, I also did not want to cause you any discomfort.”
“So, why mention it now?”
“If you, I mean, are you okay with me asking how you handled it?”

Samantha took a deep breath and put an arm around Seven’s shoulder, pulling her in close.
“I wish I could help you, baby,” she said. “I really do, but I never really got the chance to handle it. I mean, it felt like one minute my daughter is dead, the next she’s back in my arms because the other Voyager sent her and Harry over. It all happened so fast. The whole incident, with the duplication, and the pulses, and the Vidiians, it was barely even half a day. Sometimes I have nightmares about it, but they’ve never been frequent. I never truly got to experience losing a child and I wake up every day hoping I never have to.”
“We should all be so lucky,” Seven said. “But I’m not going to see Lieutenant Kim coming through a spatial rift with a perfectly intact Edwin following him.”
“No,” Samantha said sympathetically as she gently stroked Seven’s hair. “I guess not.”
“I’m torn,” Seven said after about a minute. “Between asking the Captain for time off to grieve, or simply throwing myself into a project of some kind. Maybe helping Tom with his new shuttle idea. He’s calling it the Delta Flyer. It seems adequate”
Samantha chuckled. “Coming from you sweetie I’m sure he’d see that as high praise.”
“What do you think I should do, Sam?”
“Take the rest of the day off. I can handle astrometrics for awhile, you’ve shown me the basics. Get some rest. Then, after that, decide which of those two you’re going to do.”
“Acceptable,” Seven said, resting her head on Samantha’s shoulder. “Just stay here with me for a few more minutes.

Chapter Nine

Seven of Nine walked back and forth in her cargo bay, talking to herself quietly as she read from the PADD in her hand.

“Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart too great for what contains it,” she said. “Measureless, liar. No, no, don’t pause, put an emphasis on the word liar. Yes, that should work.”
“Am I interrupting anything?” Captain Janeway said.
“Captain, I didn’t hear you come in. I was just practicing lines for the play Sam and I are doing next week,” Seven said.

“Oh, right, I’d heard about that. Shakespeare, right? Which play?”
“Coriolanus.”
“Hmm. I don’t think I know that one.”
“Understandable. It is one of his less popular plays, as well as less performed. This particular reading we’ll be doing is based on an interpretation that suggests homoerotic tension between the title character and the antagonist, Tullus Aufidius. I’ll be playing Tullus, and Sam will be playing Coriolanus.”

“Will you be adjusting the pronouns, or playing it as written?”
“Changing the pronouns,” Seven made a few notes on the PADD, then finally looked Janeway directly in the eyes.
“By the way,” she said. “If you could keep this to yourself for the time being that would be greatly appreciated. All the other roles will be played by holograms, this is something Sam and I will be doing by ourselves. If anyone else finds out about this before we’re ready to present, we’ll have to put up with crewmembers wanting to audition. The Doctor especially will be, persistent.”
Janeway laughed quietly. “Yeah, that sounds like something he’d do. As for me, I won’t ask for a part. I prefer the better known Shakespeare works myself. Well, those and Titus Andronicus.”
Seven shuddered. “Yes, I read that one. It’s memorable for having been the first time since my assimilation by the Borg that something ‘grossed me out,’ as Naomi would put it.”
Janeway nodded. “Yeah, it has that effect on people. It bothered me too, first time I ever saw it performed, but as I got older I found I respected it’s willingness to push the boundaries of taste.”
“Please don’t say ‘taste’ in the same context as that play,” Seven said, frowning.
Janeway laughed. “Fair enough. Anyway, the reason I came down here was actually because I wanted to invite you to a game of Velocity.”
“I’m not familiar with that game, but I have time. Sam is on the bridge today, and Naomi is spending time with the Doctor. She’s developed an interest in biology lately.”
“Seems to me like we’ve got a budding scientist on our hands,” Janeway said.
“Agreed.” Seven put down her PADD. “Which holodeck will I be meeting you in for the game?”

—

“Captain’s log, stardate 51978.2. It’s been five months since we received the encoded message from the Alpha Quadrant that came with the letters we received from home. We know that the transmission was from Starfleet Command, but we still can’t decrypt it. B’Elanna thinks it’s a lost cause, that too much of the data stream has been destroyed, but I haven’t given up. I keep hoping inspiration will strike, somehow.”

As soon as Janeway finished her log entry, she decided to head to the mess hall to get something to eat. She hadn’t eaten anything since finishing up her game of Velocity with Seven of Nine earlier today, a game that Seven insisted she should’ve won given her Borg implant enhanced reflexes.

She brought a PADD with the message they’d received from Starfleet months ago from the ancient relay network used by the Hirogen before its destruction. She was working on it while she ate, and was so into it she didn’t notice Chakotay had walked in until he started speaking to her.

“Good morning,” he said.
“To you too,” Janeway said.
“I just heard from Tom and Neelix,” he said, smiling. “They’ll be leaving the trading colony pretty soon. Looks like they got more than what we needed.”
“Good for them,” Janeway said, still focusing on her work.
“Neelix is asking permission to bring one of the locals on board. A man named Arturis. Neelix says he was very helpful, and he wants to repay Arturis by bringing him aboard Voyager and granting him passage to the next star system.”

“Of course,” Janeway said. “We’re heading in that direction anyway. Set up some guest quarters for him.”
Chakotay looked at the PADD Janeway was working on.
“Still searching for buried treasure?” he said.
“That’s one way of putting it. So is searching for a needle in a haystack, going snipe hunting, travelling to El Dorado…”
“Have you considered asking Seven to help?” Chakotay said. “I’m sure she might have some Borg encryption algorithms that could help.”
“She’s taken a few passes at it already, between her regular duties in astrometrics and her time with the Wildmans. I suppose I could order her to set aside one of those things and focus on decryption.”

“The Wildmans?” Chakotay said in a joking tone.
Janeway snorted. “Oh I’m sure that would go over well. All joking aside, Samantha really seems to be the best thing to happen to Seven since we brought her on board. I’d hate to imagine what she’d be like otherwise. Probably still ordering people around and fighting with me over every order.”
“She does fight you a fair amount, Captain,” Chakotay said. “And frankly, I think you cut her a little too much slack sometimes.”
“It’s just a conflict of personalities, Chakotay,” Janeway said.
“Because you’re that different?”

“Because we’re that alike,” Janeway said. She looked at her mug and saw it was empty. Well that’s just unacceptable, she thought.

—

Seven of Nine was in astrometrics when the alien who’d helped Tom Paris and Neelix was brought on board. She’d imagined she might see him walking around during the trip to the next star system, but was surprised when almost as soon as he arrived, Captain Janeway brought him directly to astrometrics.

“Seven,” Janeway said. “Bring up the data stream from Starfleet. I think this man might be able to help us.”
Seven simply nodded, and went over to one of the consoles on the wall in the lab and pulled up the data.
“You must be Arturis,” Seven said.
“That is correct,” the alien said.
“Mr. Neelix praised your negotiation techniques. They must’ve been most impressive given how overloaded the shuttle was when it returned.”
Arturis gave a shy smile and shrug, then looked at the screen as the data appeared on it.
“Oh my, you were not exaggerating Captain. This data is very corrupted,” he said. He looked at Seven and asked her to run it by him again. While she was resetting, he leaned in a little closer.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help but notice the implants, are you, Borg?”
“Yes. And no. I am no longer part of the Collective,” she said.
“Fascinating,” he said. “I didn’t even know that was possible.” He looked at the screen again and pointed at it. “Ah, I see, I see the problem. May I?” he motioned at the console.
“Of course,” Janway said, sounding excited. Seven stepped back to allow both of them easy access to the panel.
He seems harmless enough, Seven thought. Though he could stand to learn a little more about personal space. I hope he wasn’t flirting with me, he’ll be sorely disappointed.

“Have you encountered his species before?” Janeway said.
“Yes. Species 116. Why do you ask?”
“Is that what you call us?” Arturis said.
“Yes. The Collective has been unable to assimilate your people entirely. Most impressive.”
“A compliment from a Borg? That’s something I never would’ve expected to hear in my lifetime,” Arturis said, never taking his eyes off the screen or his fingers off the console. Seven had to admit she admired the man’s multitasking skills. “The Borg are like a force of nature. One never really expects to hear praise coming from a storm on the horizon, you just avoid- Ah, here we go. I was able to restore most of the undamaged blocks of data. However, several degraded sections of the message are still unrecoverable I’m sorry to say. Let’s see, we have a video recording of an Admiral Hayes and a spatial grid. There’s more, of course, that’s just what I saw initially. I imagine you’d prefer to see the rest in private.”

“Pull up the spatial grid,” Janeway said to Seven, who did so quickly.
“It’s a set of coordinates, less than ten-light years from here,” she said.
“Maybe Starfleet is trying to direct us there,” Janeway said, sounding excited.

“Plausible,” Seven said.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Janeway said, giving Seven a friendly slap on the shoulder. Seven sighed as she followed Janeway and Arturis out of astrometrics and up to the bridge.

—

Samantha Wildman and Tom Paris stood in front of the ops station where Harry Kim was doing a routine check of his systems while engaging in idle conversation.
“So, basically this Arturis is a walking babelfish?” Samantha said. Tom’s smile widened.
“I am amazed that you know what that is,” he said.
“What’s a babelfish?” Harry said.
“Let me guess,” Tom said. “You’re one of those people who thinks we have no place for science fiction in society anymore now that we really travel in space and meet aliens, right?”
“Hey, don’t treat me like some kind of snob,” Harry said. “I read Asimov in high school, same as everyone else. It’s honestly amazing how much he got right, especially compared to his peers. But I can totally understand why the genre fell out of favor. It happens.”
“Harry,” Samantha said. “When you get the time, look up a writer named Douglas Adams. You’ll thank me later.”
“Any specific book, or do you want me to-”
Harry’s reply was cut off by the sound of the turbolift door opening and Captain Janeway, their alien guest, and Seven of Nine walking on to the bridge. Samantha gave Seven a quick smile and wave. Seven smiled and nodded back. The alien, Arturis, looked at the both of them, briefly confused, but then he just shrugged.
“Tom, take the helm. We have a new course,” Janeway said.
“Aye Captain,” Tom said, moving quickly from where he was down to the helm. While Janeway was giving Tom the coordinates she wanted them to go to, Samantha quietly stepped over to stand next to Seven.
“What’s going on?” she said, quietly.
“Arturis was able to clear up some of the data sent to us from Starfleet,” Seven whispered back. “Included were a set of coordinates on a spatial grid. We’re headed there now.”

The familiar streaking stars on the viewscreen began going past even faster, indicating an increase in speed. The usually only barely noticeable hum of the engines getting loud enough to no longer easily ignore.
“We must be at maximum warp now,” Samantha said.
“Correct,” Seven said. “We should be at our destination in a few minutes.”
“A few minutes? That close?” Samantha whistled softly. If we hadn’t cracked that message, we’d have flown right past where Starfleet wanted us to go and not even known it, she thought.

“We’re approaching the coordinates,” Tom said.
“That was quick,” Samantha said.
“Take us out of warp and scan the vicinity Mr. Tuvok,” Janeway said.

“Aye Captain,” Tuvok said. A few seconds later he spoke up again. “I am picking up a vessel. Unless I am mistaken, it has a Starfleet signature.”
“Well I’ll be damned,” Harry Kim said.
“Wow,” Samantha said.
“‘Wow’ is right,” Seven said, actually sounding impressed.

“I have attempted to hail the ship,” Tuvok said, “but I have received no response.”
Seven tapped a few buttons on the console in front of her.
“It is unlikely you will. Sensors detect no organic matter on board,” she said.
“No sign of damage to the outer hull,” Harry said. “Life support, propulsion system, all on-line and fully functional. I wonder what happened.”
“The answer is in the rest of that transmission,” Janeway said. “I’m sure of it. We need to finish the decoding. Chakotay, take an away team and secure the vessel.”
Chakotay nodded. “Tom, Tuvok, come with me.”
Samantha noticed that Arturis had walked up closer to the Captain. The two of them were talking but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. She felt a small poke in her hip, and looked down to see she was being nudged by Seven of Nine’s elbow.
“You’ve always told me that eavesdropping is rude,” Seven whispered, grinning slightly.
“Okay, you caught me. So what are they-”
“Seven, we’re going back to astrometrics,” Janeway said, she and Arturis heading for the turbolift.

“Assuming I am correct about what you think they were saying,” Seven said. “precisely what you think.” Seven took one of Samantha’s hands and gave it a light squeeze before following the Captain.
“Well, I’m sure she’ll tell me all about it later,” Samantha muttered under her breath before heading to her bridge station.

—

“The Dauntless huh?” Samantha said as Seven of Nine filled her and Naomi in on what the away team had learned about the other ship, including its automated navigation, and slipstream drive. “I don’t think I like that name all that much.”
“I have no opinion on that,” Seven said, wondering why Samantha didn’t like it but deciding that asking would derail the conversation. She didn’t mind when things got off-topic when they spoke, largely because she was just happy to be talking to Sam, but she knew that this news was of import to her and didn’t want to miss a detail.

“Well, I’m just glad we were able to catch up to them,” Samantha said. “Took us two days, but they got there in seconds. Amazing.”
“And in that time we were able to decrypt more of the message from Starfleet and, oh, you got a little potato on your lip there. Let me, okay. Yes, Arturis proved very helpful in that regard.”

“Well?”
Seven stopped to take a drink of water before continuing. While she was drinking, Naomi spoke up.
“Can I see the ship next time an away team goes over?” she said. “I’ve never been on another starship before.”
Samantha started to speak, but then stopped and seemed to ponder the question.
“No, wait, that wasn’t a ship, never mind,” she muttered. “As for going over, we’ll see, okay?”

“Okay,” Naomi said, sounding a little excited.
“As I was saying,” Seven said. “we were able to decrypt more of the message, including clearing up the video from Admiral Hayes. He explained that while slipstream technology is still experimental, he believes it is safe, and at the end of the message he told us to use the Dauntless to return to the Alpha Quadrant.”

“So, are we?” Samantha said.
“Most likely,” Seven said. “The Captain is consulting with the Doctor, and she’ll be sending Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Kim over in the morning with an engineering team to inspect the ship further. It is likely we will need to bring a fair amount of our own supplies. According to Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, the Dauntless has no replicators, which would be problematic for feeding the crew for a three month journey. Also, it only has one transporter, and no shuttlecraft. If something were to go wrong, evacuation would be nearly impossible.”
“So, better safe than sorry?” Naomi said.
Seven nodded.
Samantha took in a deep breath. “Wow, this is a lot to take in,” she said.
“I apologize if I overwhelmed you with information Sam,” Seven said, putting her hand on Samantha’s thigh. “There’s a bit more, but I can stop if you need a moment.”
Samantha smiled.
“Yeah, a moment sounds good. Let’s finish up dinner.”
“Okay,” Seven said. She had her concerns about the ship, and was worried that the crew’s enthusiasm at the prospect of returning home was premature, but so far everything with the Dauntless seemed in order.

So why does the Captain seem so hesitant? she thought. I’ll ask her at the next opportunity.

—

The next day, Seven of Nine was on board the Dauntless herself, having been invited by B’Elanna and Harry to join them in their efforts to drop out of slipstream warp at a moment’s notice, something that the ship seemed to lack when they found it. Seven found that an odd omission on Starfleet’s part, but kept that feeling to herself.

Once they had their “safety net” as Torres called it, Harry left to run a metallurgical analysis of the bulkheads to look for anything unusual, while B’Elanna told Seven she would be on the bridge with Arturis, but as she was leaving, she turned back and began speaking to Seven.

“Are you, excited at all, about seeing Earth? Just curious.”
“Honestly, no,” Seven said. “I have no memories of it or anywhere else in the Alpha Quadrant. All my pre-assimilation memories are on starships, and there are very few of those, much of them, blurry.

“I imagine meeting Samantha’s relatives will be an uncomfortable situation. Sam says she lost an uncle at Wolf 359. I was not on that cube, but I was a drone and as such I have memories of that battle that were uploaded into my consciousness. I will understand if her relatives hold me responsible for their loss.”
“That wouldn’t be fair if they did,” B’Elanna said.
“That is accurate, but it also would not be abnormal for humans.”
B’Elanna chuckled. “It’s not just humans, but yeah I see your point. Good luck with that. I mean it. I may need a bit of it myself, being Maquis and all.”
“On the contrary,” Seven said. “Considering the current circumstances with regards to the Dominion War, I doubt Starfleet would waste the potential resources you and the other Maquis crewmembers provide. I do not see a blanket pardon as an impossibility.”
B’Elanna nodded.
“Yeah,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind getting a crack at the Jem’Hadar. If Starfleet would let me, I’d try to take out ten of them for every single one of my friends in the Alpha Quadrant they killed.”
“That would be reckless,” Seven said. “But I can empathize with the sentiment.”

“Kim to Seven of Nine,” Harry’s voice said, coming from Seven’s comm badge. “I could use your help with something.”
“I am on my way,” Seven said, tapping her badge to close the communication. As soon as she got to Ensign Kim, he began speaking without looking at her, his eyes focused on his open tricorder.
“There’s an anomalous surge of energy emanating from behind this panel,” he said.
“Unlikely. There are no power conduits running through that section.” Seven took out her own tricorder anyway and began taking readings of her own.
“There aren’t supposed to be, anyway,” Harry said. “Something seems a little off about this whole thing frankly.”
“What do you mean?” Seven said.

“You ever hear the phrase ‘too good to be true?’”
“I have. Judging from her behavior recently I believe the Captain shares your concerns.”
“And you don’t?”
“I have no cause to doubt the legitimacy of this ship or it’s origins,” Seven said.
“Weren’t you telling us the other day that our excitement over possibly getting home was premature?”
“At the time it was,” Seven said.

“Fair enough,” Harry said, continuing his scans. “So, given any thought to where you’re going to end up once we get to the Alpha Quadrant?”
“I have not. I’ll likely end up visiting the Ktarian homeworld when Samantha takes Naomi to meet her father, and I will likely end up being asked to divulge all I know about Borg technology to both Starfleet Intelligence and Research & Development divisions. Beyond that, I am uncertain.”
Seven’s comm badge chirped again. “Janeway to Seven of Nine.”
“Yes Captain?”
“I need you back on Voyager. Please report to astrometrics, ASAP.”
“On my way,” Seven said.

—

Captain Janeway didn’t bother looking at Seven of Nine when she heard her come in.

“Seven, I could use your help with something,” she said. “I’m still trying to reconstruct the last fragment of the data stream, the one Arturis said was too badly damaged. I have this feeling that he gave up a little too easily.”

“A feeling?” Seven said.
“Call it intuition. Something just doesn’t seem right about this.”
Seven sighed.
“I am hearing that a lot today Captain,” she said.
“Really?” Janeway said.
“Ensign Kim also has his doubts. I am starting to wonder if perhaps this is some psychological condition.”
“What do you mean?”
“That perhaps you, Ensign Kim, and maybe others, feel they somehow don’t deserve this opportunity.”
“Since when did you have an interest in psychology?” Janeway said, genuinely surprised that for once Seven of Nine was not the cynical one in the room.
“I began reading on the subject after the hallucinations I had last month,” Seven said.
“I see. Well, if you’ll indulge me and my hunch, I’ve designed a new encryption algorithm that I want to test on the message.”
“Very well,” Seven said, going up to another console. After a few moments, Seven turned to face her.
“Seven?” Janeway said.
“Captain, I, have concerns about returning to the Alpha Quadrant.”
“That’s understandable, but now is not the time-”
“I am Borg. The Borg Collective is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of Federation citizens. I worry that if I am to return with you, I would be endangering my own life.”
Captain Janeway had certainly not expected to hear anything like this when she woke up this morning.
“Boy it sure is nice out here in left field,” she muttered.
“Captain?” Seven said, looking as confused as she sounded.
“Seven, let me make it clear. You’ve saved this ship twice since you came on board. This crew cares about you. Samantha and Naomi love you. And I am ultimately the one responsible for putting you in this position in the first place so let me make this perfectly clear because I will only say it once. If Starfleet wants to try and make a scapegoat out of you, they’ll do it over my dead body. Is that understood?”
Seven didn’t say anything for what felt like several minutes.
“Thank you, Captain. That means a lot. In all honesty, were it not for Sam, I’d likely not be going with you.”
“I’m not sure how I feel about that,” Janeway said. “But I appreciate your honesty. Even if you do overdo it sometimes.”
The console started beeping.
“Well, looks like my new algorithm worked. Let’s see…”
“Captain?” Seven said.
“That’s weird, I thought we already decrypted this section. It’s Admiral Hayes again.”

“Perhaps it’s an addendum to his original-”
Seven was cut off when the video began playing on the larger screen in astrometrics.
“Apologies from everyone at Starfleet Command,” the Admiral said. “We’ve had our best people working around the clock trying to find a wormhole or a new means of propulsion, anything to get you back home. I know this data packet isn’t what you were hoping, but we have sent you all the data we have collected on the Delta Quadrant. Hopefully you’ll find at least some of it useful. Have a safe journey. We hope to see you soon.”
Janeway sighed. She heard Seven of Nine tap her comm badge.
“Seven of Nine to Ensign Wildman,” she heard Seven say.
“Wildman here. What is it?”
“Did you allow Naomi to go over to the Dauntless today?”
“I was about to. We’re-”
“Don’t. I can explain later, just stay on Voyager.”
“Annie, what’s wrong?”
“Samantha, this is Captain Janeway,” Janeway said. “Seven’s right. Don’t go over there. We’ve been lied to.”

—

“Whoa, hey, careful with that,” B’Elanna told Arturis, seeing his hand going near the helm console. “You almost kicked us into slipstream drive. There’s only a few of us here on the ship, we’d rather not go home without more than ninety percent of the crew.”
“I apologize,” Arturis said in Klingon.
“Hmm. I didn’t know you speak Klingon.”
“I do now. Your Captain was kind enough to allow me to look at your ship’s linguistic database. So many languages, it was-”

The sound of transporter beams interrupted the conversation. B’Elanna turned to see Tuvok, the Captain, Seven of Nine, and two security officers, all armed with hand phasers, pointing in their direction.
“Evacuate the repair teams,” Tuvok said to Vorik, who had been working at a console near the rear of the bridge.
“Yes sir,” Vorik said.
“Captain, what-” B’Elanna started to say, but Janeway cut her off, walking right up to Arturis.
“Explain yourself,” she said to him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arturis said.

“You fabricated the message from Starfleet. I found the real one, the one you said was irreparably damaged. And Tuvok and Mister Kim found alien technology aboard this vessel hidden behind a bulkhead.”
“This is absurd,” Arturis said.
B’Elanna moved to stand in between the Captain and Seven, and had turned to face Arturis herself.
“I’d like to hear the explanation myself,” she said.
“I don’t know where you got the idea that I-”
“Starfleet didn’t send us this vessel. Is it yours?”

“I assure you Captain. I am not the threat,” Arturis was stammering, and would probably be sweating now if he were human. B’Elanna looked at his panicked face and just knew right away that Janeway was right.
“How do you know it wasn’t her,” Arturis said, pointing at Seven of Nine. “that altered the message? She’s Borg, she could’ve been sabotaging you this whole time. And what about that woman, I saw you speaking with on the bridge? You were whispering to each other. You could’ve been conspiring…”
“Attempting to shift blame onto me was a logical choice,” Seven of Nine said. “given my history. Perhaps you should’ve stopped there, before dragging my romantic partner into it.”

“Romantic? You? A Borg? What could you possibly know about romance, you’re a machine.”
“Enough of this,” Janeway said. “Tuvok, take him to the brig.”

Tuvok motioned for two of the security officers to take Arturis into custody, but before they could reach him, Arturis tore open one of the panels on the helm, and pulled a lever hidden beneath it. Suddenly, the entire bridge changed, all evidence of Starfleet technology gone as a holographic facade fell away. The two security officers tried to tackle him, but was able to fight them off just long enough to erect a force field around himself and the helm.
“Janeway to Voyager, get us out of here,” the Captain said. Arturis began rapidly tapping buttons on the console beside him.

“I’m trying Captain,” Harry Kim’s voice said. “He’s trying to deflect the transporter beams.”
The two security guards vanished, and B’Elanna felt a beam begin to take her as well. Her last thought before appearing on one of Voyager’s transporter pads was that she wished she’d been allowed just one chance to punch Arturis in the face.

—

Seven saw first Torres, then Tuvok get beamed out, but the beams around her and Janeway broke as the sound of the slipstream drive grew louder and louder.
“Where are you taking us?” Janeway said.

“Home,” Arturis said.
“If Voyager was what you wanted,” Seven said. “there were simpler ways you could’ve done it. Your technology is superior in many respects. Something this elaborate… This is personal, isn’t it?”
“Very perceptive,” Arturis said, anger punctuating every syllable.

“How did you create the Starfleet bridge? It had to be more than just holograms to fool us as long it did,” Janeway asked.
“Particle synthesis,” Arturis said. Seven couldn’t help but notice that he wouldn’t look at them as he spoke.
“Is this what your species does? Prey on innocent ships?” Janeway said.

“Innocent?! So self-righteous Captain. You have some nerve calling yourself innocent when you are the one responsible for my people being assimilated by the Borg.”
Oh shit, Seven thought for the first time ever, finally seeing the word’s value as an exclamation.

“You negotiated an agreement with the Borg Collective,” Arturis said. “Safe passage through their space in return for helping defeat one of their enemies. Did it ever occur to you, Captain, that there were those of us who had a vested interest in that war? Victory for the race you call Species 8472 would’ve meant annihilation for the Borg.”

“Yes, and after them all life in the galaxy,” Seven said.
“You don’t know that!”
“Yes, I do. We were able to make telepathic contact them. Species 8472 is violent, xenophobic,” Seven said.
“In my estimation,” Janeway added. “Species 8472 posed a far greater threat than the Borg.”
“Who were you to make that decision?!” Arturis screamed. “Who were you to make such a large decision for this entire quadrant?”
“What would you have had me do, take a poll?” Janeway said. “I had to act quickly.”
“My people managed to elude the Borg for centuries. Centuries! All that gone because of you. We had a chance to survive. Our defense had been weakening, the Borg were finally closing in but Species 8472 presented a chance. But then you came along, and helped the Borg win, and soon, hundreds of cubes surrounded my homeworld.”

Arturis paused, taking a breath. Seven shared a look with Janeway, neither seemed willing to interrupt, possibly for the same reason of not wanting to make the situation worse.
“I don’t blame you Seven of Nine,” he continued. ”You were already free. And I don’t even blame the Borg, not really. They were just drones, acting on collective instinct. I blame you Captain. You had a choice!”
“Nothing I could ever say or do could bring back your people,” Janeway said. “But you have to understand, I couldn’t have known.”
“Species 8472 would not have stopped with Borg,” Seven said. “Your world would be gone regardless of which choice the Captain made. How many of your species is left?”
“Why do you care?”
“Please, tell me,” Seven said, trying to sound sympathetic and hoping it came through.
“Ten, maybe twenty thousand.”
“Enough for a viable population. With Species 8472 your race wouldn’t even have that much of a chance to survive. I often disagree with the Captain’s decisions. But the decision to aid the Borg was not one of them.”
“Easy for you to say,” Arturis said, pointing at Seven. “You’re both Borg and human. You’re doubly biased.”
Something about that statement, “You’re both Borg and human,” stuck in Seven’s mind, but she set it aside to focus on the matter at hand.
“The Borg are responsible for the deaths of many in the Alpha Quadrant, where Voyager is from. Do not presume that the decision the Captain made was taken lightly.”
“Arturis,” Janeway said. “where are we going?”
“I was hoping to get your whole crew,” Arturis said. “But you will have to do. This ship is heading towards my homeworld, now inside of Borg space.”
“If you want revenge on me, fine. I’m the Captain, I’m responsible for this, but let Seven go.”
“Too late for that, Captain, our course is locked in. Besides, I imagine your Borg friend will be quite relieved to be returning to the collective.”
“You would be wrong,” Seven said, before even she realized she was speaking. There was anger in her voice, but rather than hide she wanted to make sure she made her point loud and clear. “As you said, I am both Borg and human. I still do not know entirely what it means to be both. No one has ever been both a Borg and something else before.”
Arturis nodded. “If it’s any consolation then, I am saddened that in just a matter of hours I will be destroying something so unique.”
“You’ll be assimilated as well, you have to know that,” Janeway said.
“That, is, irrelevant.” Arturis said.

—

Janeway flinched after touching the force field on the ship’s brig, she and Seven of Nine having been thrown in together by Arturis.
“Any ideas?” she said.
“Not at present,” Seven replied.
“Can’t you just walk through the force field? You’ve done it before.”
“That function was disabled by the Doctor however. After the incident involving the Raven.”
“Right, forgot about that. Any way I could turn it back on?”

“A detailed modification of my cranial implant is required to re-enable this function. I do not see anything in this brig that could work as a tool accurate enough to, tweak, the implant without harming me.”
“Seven, why is it you always pause right before you use a human colloquialism?”
“Is this really the time to have a discussion about my speech patterns, Captain?”

Janeway sighed. She actually was curious, but Seven was also right that during an escape attempt was not the ideal time for conversation.
“A little less conversation, a little more action. Makes sense. I think, if we take apart one of our comm badges and remove a microfilament, that might work in terms of having a tool fine enough to do the tweaking. If this works, once you’re out, shut down the force field and we’ll make our way to the engine room.”
“From there we can initiate the emergency shutdown,” Seven said. “A decent plan.”

“Thanks,” Janeway said, already disassembling her comm badge. Within minutes, and with Seven’s guidance, Janeway made the modifications necessary, and Seven easily walked through the force field. Janeway watched her go over to the console. When it took longer than it should’ve, Janeway started to get concerned, but before she could say anything, Seven spoke up.
“He is attempting to disrupt my efforts from the bridge. This should just take one more moment.”
The force field collapsed seconds later.
“Good work, Seven. Let’s go.”

When the two got to engineering, they saw that the particle synthesis that made the consoles look Starfleet issue were still in place down here, unlike on the bridge. Janeway was quietly grateful for that as she and Seven silently got to work on shutting down the slipstream engine.

“I am unable to initiate the shutdown,” Seven said.
“He’s blocking us from the bridge. Dammit, I should’ve seen that coming.”
The ship shuddered.
“What-” Janeway started to say.
“We have increased velocity. At our new present speed we will be in Borg space in 12 minutes.”

Janeway uttered a string of expletives, then looked at Seven.
“Oh, sorry about my language there.”
Seven groaned. “Perhaps one day I will understand the human tendency to make jokes in the face of imminent death,” she said. “Or at the very least that the crew will eventually forget about my outburst on the holodeck that one time.”

“Do we still have access to the power distribution grid?” Janeway said.
“Affirmative.”
“Good. Send a power surge to the starboard thrusters and attempt to turn the ship in the wrong direction. That should give us a distraction as well as changing course.”
“Understood.”
“I’ll head for the bridge to take advantage of the distraction. Keep trying to get control of navigation down here.”
“Captain,” Seven said as Janeway started to leave. “remember, our performance of Coriolanus is still scheduled for tomorrow. Sam would be disappointed if you couldn’t make it.”
Janeway smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, turning back around and heading towards the bridge, nearly falling over along the way when the ship turned violently.

“Sorry about that,” Janeway said as she entered the bridge in time to see Arturis just getting back into the navigator’s chair. “Shame no one ever thinks to put seat belts on starships isn’t it?”
“You can slow this ship down,” Arturis said, “but you can’t stop it. Soon, you will be a Borg drone, just like most of my people.”
“Seven has accessed your navigational systems,” Janeway said, as the ship tilted to her right hard enough that she nearly fell over again. “This isn’t over yet, but it can end now if you just turn this ship around. It doesn’t have to end this way. Set aside your desire for revenge, and instead carry on the legacy of your people; their accomplishments, knowledge, all that can survive in you.”

Arturis paused for a moment. Janeway believed she was getting through to him. He tapped a button on the console.
“I have destroyed the navigational controls so that no one can stop the ship, not even me. We will arrive in Borg space in two minutes. It’s over, Captain. You lo-”
The ship shuddered again, but this time not from a sharp turn. They were being fired upon. Consoles began exploding, one nearly hitting Janeway in the face.
She heard rather than saw Arturis move to another console.
“Voyager!” he shouted in anger.

“You can come with me, it’s not too-” Janeway’s words were cut off as the transporter beam took her.

—

“Three hundred light years closer? Wow, that’s great!” Samantha said, as Seven draped her legs across Samantha’s lap.
“Unfortunately,” Seven said, stirring the drink that Sam had replicated for her, “engineering’s diagnostics have concluded that we can’t risk using this technology again, at least not for the foreseeable future. I have some ideas, but the Captain’s orders for R&R were rather strict. Somewhat ironic, but I declined to make that observation to her directly.”

Seven smiled at Sam.
“Are we still on for tomorrow, Annie?”
“I believe so,” Seven said. “though perhaps the material we have chosen for our first stage play may be too dark considering the events of the past week.”

“Maybe, but to hell with it, we worked hard on this thing.”
“Indeed we have,” Seven said. “So, where’s Naomi tonight?”
“The Doctor actually agreed to watch her. He says he feels like he doesn’t understand children all that well, and wants to gain some practical experience.”
“Hmm,” Seven said, after taking a sip of her drink. “While she has her moments, Naomi is an exceptionally well-behaved child for her age. I’m not sure he’s going to learn all that much.”
“Probably not, but so what? We’ve got the room to ourselves for about the next six hours.”
“I assume you’ll want to do some additional rehearsing for the play then,” Seven said, winking.
“Tease,” Samantha said.