Part 3

Dreams filling my mind’s eye. Events that unfolded around me in a not so recent past. Memories assailing me, disturbing me, comforting me.

My first look into his mind.

His voice. A soft, soothing hail rising above the cacophony of never-ending noise. Millions of voices speaking together, directing my thoughts, telling me what to do. Yet that one voice drowning all others with it’s enticing, luring, velvet timbre.

Annika. Listen to your human side. To yourself. The little girl.

His voice. Urgent. Urging. Pleading. It’s silken resonating tones washing over my whole being, tingling my nerve endings with a spark I’d never felt before. A spark of vitality and passion. A sea of faces and memories---its frenzied waves rising and crashing against the jagged, craggy rocks of uncertainty---of confusion. But his voice leading me. Guiding me. Calling me.

I can see your memories. You remember being human.

My eyes on the viewscreen on Voyager’s bridge, my human hand grabbing the console at the helm as the injection tubules snake out of the implant on my Borg wrist and penetrate the helm controls. I hear the Collective in my mind.

Alter course to bring the Alpha Quadrant vessel to Unimatrix 368, grid 0015.

His voice. Yielding, tempting. His memories inundating my consciousness, his thoughts entangling the perfection of harmony in my mind. Filling me with confusion, disrupting my order. My voice rising in a wounded roar of denial.

We are Borg. Your appeal to my humanity is pointless.

The cacophony inside my head increasing in its perfect, hideous order. Millions of voices speaking as one. Their presence sharply felt in my mind, in his mind. His voice rising in alarm, rising in fear.

Stop what you're doing. You're human. I can hear your thoughts. We are one.

And then a new vision filling my mind. Events that couldn’t have been a part of my memories because they never occurred. Yet they are images that come unbidden, propelling into my mind, uninvited.

A Borg vessel appearing on the viewscreen. My tubules interacting with Voyager’s systems, disrupting their defenses, dropping their shields. The voice of the Collective speaking as one.

Your technological and biological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.

Drones transporting all over the ship. Phaser fires all around me. His voice pleading me, cajoling me---even as I hear their screams on every deck, in every mind, in the Collective thought.

Our minds are linked. His voice calls me, filled with anguish. We are one. I can hear your thoughts.

But it’s too late for him. They wrench him down to his knees, his struggles in vain. I watch as his head is yanked back and a drone injects the claws of the tubules into his neck. I hear his pain-filled scream, his eyes clouding with distress---his pain plunging me into a sudden desolate blackness.

And with that suffocating darkness, comes the beginnings of a scream that fills my own tightening throat. However the only sound that comes out is a small gasp of misery, as my eyes finally snap open.

The Interlink Node disconnects from my Alcove and under the sound of my heavy, desperate breathing, I hear the voice of the computer announce.

"Regeneration cycle incomplete."

I stare into the dimmed cargobay two, my heart beating frantically, my breaths coming in gasps, as I try to bring a semblance of order to my bewildered state. It is then that my eyes settle on the figure perched on the cargo containers a step below the platform.

His shoulders as tense as mine, as if he’s shared my thoughts this time as well, as if he knows what I went through under the guise of my regeneration cycle. I stare at him hesitantly, perturbed by his presence, my mind still reeling from the images I’d seen in my dreams.

"Commander." I finally say, as I step off the Alcove, willing my heart to calm its frantic beat.

He slides off the container, a few lines of worry wrinkling the skin between his brows. "Seven."

I access the chronometer. Its 0413 hours.

I look at him, unsure of his reasons for being here at this hour. "You’re up early."

He shrugs, a slightly apologetic twist on his lips. "I couldn’t sleep." His eyes probe mine. "Are you all right?"

It was just a dream, I remind myself. Just a tangle of confusion cooked up by my strained mind, nothing more.

I take a deep breath and step off the platform. "I seem to be suffering from the same predicament as you are."

He looks uncertainly at my profile, looks behind me at the Alcove I’ve just stepped down from, and then slightly frowns. "Aren’t you going to go back to regeneration?"

"Perhaps later." I reply, as I notice his attire---an earthy toned collar-less shirt, seemingly made of a soft material, and loose cream-colored pants---apparently his off-duty clothes of choice. He nods, and makes a small gesture with his arm. "Then may I..." He pauses as he turns sideways, his eyes on the cargo containers behind him, and shakes his head. "No seating arrangements here."

"This is a cargobay." I look at him. "What purpose would having a seating arrangement serve in a cargobay?"

He seems amused. "Cargobay or not, it is still your domain."

I lift my chin. "Borg do not sit." But my words don’t have the same brusqueness as they could’ve had.

And he notices. A slight smile brushes his lips. "Borg who socialize with humans do sit."

I look into his eyes, trying to keep my voice cool under his interested gaze. "Are you asking me to socialize with you, Commander?"

He shrugs. "Oh, I don’t know... I am asking you to take a walk with me to somewhere with a couple of chairs at least." He hesitates a moment, looking slightly unsure. "If you’re not busy that is."

And it’s in this small show of hesitancy that I find a little assurance for myself. If I am not the only one who is uncertain about facing him, if the Commander is as apprehensive about talking to me as I am to him, then perhaps we’d be on equal grounds.

Pushing the remnants of the strange dream I’d just had to the back of my mind, I take a deep breath and nod. "I am unoccupied at this time. I will take the walk."

He smiles, satisfied, and turns around, leading me out of the cargobay. The corridors are vacant at this hour of the morning, with the gamma crew on shift and the rest of them in their quarters sleeping. We don’t use the turbolift. Instead Commander Chakotay finds an Observation Lounge at the far end of Deck twelve and we walk inside.

It’s a lounge I hadn’t looked closely at before. I was being honest when I told the Commander that Borg do not sit. Borg don’t socialize either. And certainly not with former-renegade First Officers of Federation ships stranded in the delta quadrant. But it would appear that times have now changed. And as always I’ll have to find a way to adapt, whether I am ready for it or not.

My gaze travels across the small room furnished with comfortable chairs, cushioned two-seaters, and the few low set glass tables set in front of the two viewport windows, to stop at the man standing next to a seat---looking at me expectantly. I realize he’d been watching me while I was studying my surroundings, lost in my thoughts. I take a breath, step forward to pull out a straight-back chair and carefully sit down, watching him take a chair in front of me.

He leans back in his chair in a relaxed posture and looks at me closely, and I suddenly realize he has lost the slight lines of apprehension that had creased his face earlier. Perhaps the small walk helped him focus, as it did me, in a way.

"So..." He starts, his eyes intent on me, and trails off.

I urge him on. "I am waiting for you to begin."

His brow arches. "Begin what?"

I feel myself frown slightly. "You did bring me here to talk about Kellin, didn’t you?"

There’s a slight pause during which his eyes linger on mine, and then one corner of his mouth twitches. "No, you misunderstood me. I brought you here because I wanted to talk about you."

I look at him incredulously. "Me."

"Yes." He straightens up on his seat, his face suddenly turning serious.

"How are you doing? Since coming back from the away mission?"

There’s concern in his eyes and although I am not sure why, its strangely comforting to me. It’s been fourteen hours since our return from the planet. Lieutenant Paris is recovering in sickbay. The Commander and I were unhurt and we’ve been off-duty since our return. I don’t understand why he’d be concerned about me now.

"I am fine." I reply.

"Are you sure?" His voice is soft, unexpectedly reminding me of the velvet timbre from my dreams, my memories---distracting me for a moment---before it suddenly occurs to me what he’s attempting to do.

I raise my brow at him. "Is this a counseling session, Commander?"

He smiles gently and shakes his head. "No. Just lending a friendly ear." Though, for some reason I don’t want to talk about this. I make an attempt at changing the subject. "Are you sure you do not wish to speak about Kellin?"

He stares at me closely, his throat working as his mind apparently processes the information at his disposal. Then as if coming to a decision, he sighs and leans back on his seat, his brow smooth. "All right. Tell me, what do you know about Kellin?"

I waver, unsure of his changing tactics. How much does he know? How much does he want to know? I decide to start at the beginning. "She was a Rumaran tracer who had come to Voyager looking for a runaway..."

He breaks in. "I know that."

I pause, feeling my brow arching in mild impatience. "The two of you began a romantic relationship..."

He shrugs. "That’s in my accounts too."

I purse my lips, as I feel my impatience expand into slight irritation. Humans have a strangely annoying habit of playing along just for the sake of it. "Her leaving you after her memories were erased caused you a great deal of pain..."

He pauses for a second. "For approximately two hours."

My brows wrinkle at his mysterious behavior. "Are you suggesting that you have not been distracted, that you have not been upset, over this subject in the past few days?"

He blinks and then sighs, a smile breaking on his face, as he shakes his head. "Is this a counseling session, Seven?"

I feel my irritation slowly melt away at the sight of his amusement. "No. Perhaps, I too am only lending you a friendly ear."

There’s another pause as he silently appraises me and then the smile disappears. "Seven," His eyes are solemn. "I really am sorry about how I spoke to you down on the planet."

I heard the Doctor once tell me that all things in the universe go on in a never-ending circle. I told him it was an illogical supposition. I told him all matter in the galaxy was constantly expanding and not moving in a circle as he’d proposed. I couldn’t have known how right he was, at least in respect to some things.

I heave in a deep breath as I face Chakotay. "As I said before, Commander, you have no reason to apologize."

But the Commander’s dark eyes are implacable. "You’re wrong. I was out of line. That calls for an apology."

"You want to apologize to me?" My tone rises in exasperation. "Even after I almost persuaded you to let Lieutenant Paris take the shuttle---which if he had done so, would have resulted in all of us getting killed?"

He grits his teeth. "One thing has got nothing to do with the other." "But I was wrong." I almost got us all killed.

"Yes, you were." His voice rises in force, his eyes piercing mine as he stares hard at me---his mouth set in a firm line.

I stare at him in a shocked silence, my throat convulsing.

And then his eyes soften, the blazing anger replacing with patient understanding. "But I didn’t let you do that. I wouldn’t have. I told you that before."

I think back over the events of the away mission, how I’d argued with him there and how he’d firmly denied my request and realize how relieved I am now that he was as immovable with me as he was. The consequences otherwise would’ve been devastating.

I shift mental gears and think of the dream I woke up from a while back. The false dream. Of events that hadn’t taken place. The images of Borg attacking Voyager, assimilating the crew---assimilating him. And suddenly a realization hits me. That even during regeneration, the human part of me---or perhaps it is the Borg part after all---was trying to tell me something. Was trying to give me a message.

I close my eyes for a second, take in a deep breath, and then open them---knowing all traces of conflict have left my expression. "You stopped me." I tell him.

His brow smoothes. "Yes, I did. We stayed together. Tom is all right now." I shake my head. "No, I mean---you stopped me... before too."

His eyes narrow in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

I look into his dark eyes. "When you severed my connection to the Collective," They’re brown, I notice for the first time, an appealing color for eyes---a warm color. "You stopped me from leading the Borg to Voyager. You stopped me from getting Voyager assimilated."

It takes a moment for comprehension to dawn in those eyes, and then he nods slowly, his gaze turning even softer than before. "I spoke to you in your thoughts."

I swallow as I reply. "You were the last person I heard in my mind." He looks impressed, almost awed by this revelation---as if he’d never considered it before. "Do you still have those memories?"

"You don’t?" I ask him.

He looks at me closely and shrugs as he replies---looking a little dazed. "I guess I do."

"I have them as well." I confirm.

He nods and then the expression on his face changes, his eyes squinting as he tilts his head to one side. "Your regeneration cycle... Is that where your memories of Kellin returned? That is, if I assume you had lost them like the rest of us."

For some reason, I feel relieved at the change of topic and shift my position on the chair. "I had, and yes that’s where they returned approximately eleven days ago."

His brows crinkle as he appraises me. "Why did you take this long to tell me, Seven?" He sounds curious.

I hesitate as I drop my gaze to my lap and then taking a deep breath look up at him. "I was unsure of how to approach you."

He shakes his head, the same amusement again peeking from his eyes. "Seven, you chose a hell of a wrong time to do so."

I sigh, feeling a sudden flush heat the skin of my neck. "I would admit my timing was a little off."

He suddenly smiles as he notices my embarrassment. "And I would say I was just a little... shocked."

I raise my brow at his lighthearted expression. He no longer seems upset and that relieves me even further. "I noticed." I nod. "But then I had already surmised that you would be upset before I spoke to you. I was just..." My voice trails off.

He finishes for me. "Unprepared for that intensity?"

I shrug. "I guess I wasn’t."

A slightly repentant look crosses his face again. "I don’t blame you."

I stare into his eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted---as if I’ve run an ancient marathon race. "How is Lieutenant Paris?" I change the topic again. "I haven’t seen him for a few hours."

He looks at me knowingly, well aware that I am trying to turn the conversation around, his eyes twinkling with comprehension, but lets it go. "Sleeping. I stopped by sickbay on my way to see you. He’s going to be just fine. He’ll be released to his quarters tomorrow."

"It is tomorrow now." I remind him of the early hour again.

"Well, then... A few hours from now, I guess." His lips quirk again. It is disconcerting how suddenly I can notice the color of his eyes and see how many times his lips twist into a smile, when a few weeks back things like these would’ve been the farthest from my mind. My Borg half would certainly disapprove.

But I find that my human part doesn’t mind too much.

"As I remember," I decide to continue on in the same vein. "The Captain ordered you to take time off as well."

His brow arches. "I am on my time off. I told you what I do in my off-duty hours should be no one’s concern but mine."

I stare at him in silence once more, my own brow raised in query.

And then he shakes his head again and sighs. "But since you’ve already shown some concern about how I spend my off-duty time," A slightly indulgent look crosses his eyes as he regards me. "I decided to spend some of it with you. Do you want to get rid of me?"

I let a small smile appear on the corner of my own lips. "No. I want you to do as the Captain said. Get some rest."

He smiles in return. "I am resting."

I lift my chin and state in my no-nonsense voice. "Then get some sleep." He does seem somewhat tired. Spending his off-duty hours sitting with me in the Observation Lounge nine decks down from his quarters won’t help him. The away mission was tiring for him as well.

He straightens his shoulders. "Only if you promise me one thing."

I look at him in question. "What is that?"

He looks me straight in the eye. "That you’ll complete your regeneration." I return his gaze as I contemplate his request. My cycle earlier had been ridden with unpleasant dreams that concerned this crew, and the man sitting in front of me. Can I confront the same kind of images if they storm inside my mind again?

"Is there something wrong?" The Commander is frowning, concern apparent in his expression.

I stare at him a moment and realize my thoughts are much calmer now that I’ve spoken to him. As much as I was dreading facing him, discussing the various aspects of our individual and mutual conflict seems to have helped.

"No." I shake my head. "There was. But not anymore. I believe I can return to my regeneration now."

His dark eyes probe mine. "Sure everything’s okay?"

"Yes." I nod. I am sure.

"In that case," He smiles and gets up from his chair. "I’ll walk you to your domain."

* * *

It is strange how life sometimes throws you a curveball and then expects you to go catching even though your hands are already full with other things.

You juggle the items already in your hands as you try to catch the ball.

Sometimes you manage to do so. Other times you watch in horror as the ball goes sailing past you in vain. Sometimes you even dump the stuff you were already holding and run for the curveball to make a catch of a lifetime.

I am not sure what I’ve chosen to do so, but I believe my life has thrown me a heck of a curveball as well.

And I think I just barely caught it.

"I thought I told you to wait until you were back on duty before submitting your report." Kathryn looks at me indulgently from behind her desk.

I smile at her. "But you’d known that I couldn’t wait to get it over with. It’s almost all I’ve been thinking about for the past twenty-four hours. And besides, I can always relax after I’ve discussed this with you."

"You have a point." She nods as she gets up from her chair and walks around her desk to the replicator. "I was going through the Doctor’s reports and according to him, the toxin that the creature left in Tom’s body was highly potent. If Tom hadn’t been treated with the antidote in the shuttle, it could’ve affected some of the major organs in his body more severely, maybe even permanently."

She walks back to the desk, places a cup of herbal tea in front of me and settles down in her seat with her coffee.

I look at her grave expression and sigh. "It was a close call. We almost didn’t make it to the shuttle. Those creatures were vicious and extremely fast."

She looks at me closely as she takes a sip from her mug. "But there’s something else on your mind."

I sip the sweetened tea. "I was just thinking of the carcasses we saw there. I saw two different species. Tom’s scans show records of a third and Seven’s one more. That’s four distinctive separate species---all probably killed by the same creatures, beginning at the same timeframe---seven weeks ago."

"And no signs of any other life form." Kathryn muses.

"That’s what’s bothering me." I look down at the padd in front of me and then up at her. "I don’t want to think that those creatures killed all other life forms in that area---or worse, on that whole planet."

"Maybe it’s a mutation of some sort." She offers.

"It could be." I reply. "Think about it, Kathryn. No other living animal in sight. No bird in the air. I’d hate to think that these creatures have evolved out of some other native form of life on that planet and then taken control of the environment, killing their way through all the indigenous life forms."

Kathryn looks at me curiously. "Do you think we should’ve perhaps explored some more?"

"I don’t know how we can explore a planet of this size, especially in the light of all the atmospheric conditions that made even that one shuttle ride such a hassle." I shake my head. "For all we know, we could be looking at this situation entirely wrong. For all we know, this could be a very natural occurrence in that environment that happens in this particular season perhaps---when all the other animals migrate to other climates."

"When I was discussing this with Tuvok and the Doctor," Kathryn says. "They were of the view that there are ways of controlling an unusual bend in the evolutionary process in a known environment. In cases where evolution has come to an abrupt dead end with only one species thriving in an environment where more should be living, we have the option of introducing an agent in the environment. Something to hinder the growth and evolution of that single species so that the other life forms can fight back."

"But that is only valid for a known environment." I look at her. "This environment is completely alien to us. We just spent half a day in that area and yes we were attacked. But we could be interfering with what might be the possible natural evolutionary cycle for this world. Maybe that is the way it’s meant to be here."

"So we’re damned if we do," Kathryn lifts one brow. "And we’re damned if we don’t."

I sigh. "When I think about it---we were the intruders to their environment. Maybe they were just pissed off that we interfered in their peaceful existence."

She shakes her head. "Well, they surely showed their displeasure in a very profound way."

I nod as I take another sip of the tea. "That they did."

"At least one good thing came off it." She smiles. "We now have a wide variety of fresh vegetables and fruits for the food stores, and seedlings for the hydroponics bay. Neelix is quite appreciative of that fact, even though he’s a little shaken at what it almost cost us."

I shake my head at the thought of what new experiments Neelix will do with our latest harvesting efforts. I lean back in the chair and look at my Captain. "Well, that was my report. I am sure Seven’s report will provide another unique insight that you’ll find helpful."

Kathryn grins at me. "She was here two hours before you, with her complete report."

I chuckle. "As efficient as always."

It’s funny how the thought of Seven no longer fills me with that slight uneasiness I used to feel in the past. In fact, there’s a lightness in my heart---a strange feeling of pleasant vitality that parts the clouds of gloom that had been covering my horizon for the past few days.

Kellin isn’t even on my mind anymore.

A curveball indeed.

Kathryn looks at me closely, her eyes probing. "She told me of the slight altercation she had with you when she asked for all three of you to be separated on the planet."

I look into my friend’s eyes. "There was no altercation. She and Tom made a suggestion. I refused. That was all."

"But she was blaming herself for almost causing everyone’s deaths." Kathryn prods.

I shrug at her. "Yes, I know, she’s been blaming herself---and I’ll keep telling her it wasn’t her fault until she begins to believe me."

Kathryn seems amused, her eyebrows arching in mock-surprise. "Why, Commander, do I detect a change in your perception of our ex-Drone?"

I can’t help but smile at this. "Perhaps."

She seems genuinely pleased. "That is good, Chakotay. She could learn so much from you---your sense of intuition about everyday things, your compassion."

"I don’t know about her, Kathryn," I look at her. "But she certainly has helped open my eyes about things in this short time that I couldn’t clearly see before."

Kathryn smiles. "I am happy to hear that. She’s a strangely complex person, with many difficult layers, but once you get to know her---you do realize she’s worth the effort."

I nod, noticing Kathryn’s eyes quietly observing as she looks at me from behind her coffee mug. "I am beginning to see that. And also---as far as compassion is concerned, I’ve found she has enough of her own---you just have to look hard enough to see it."

Kathryn’s eyes are discerningly penetrative but my thoughts are already drifting. I give her a furtive smile, and notice her slight shake of head as she chuckles.

"You’re a piece of work, Chakotay."

"What?" I stare at her, my brow arching in query. "Have you been spending a lot of time with Tom? He’s the only one who talks like this." But instead of replying, she shakes her head again. There’s a covert smile on her lips and I feel slightly lost in the wake of her probing gaze.

Piece of work? What could she possibly mean?

I sigh.

Damn curveballs.

Part 4

"Face it, Har, you guys can never beat me---even on my down days."

Lieutenant Paris’s joyful voice rises above the usual hustle of the messhall.

I follow my three jubilant companions as they weave their way through the tables and crewmembers in our way, hurrying to secure a large table being vacated on one side of the messhall. Our journey takes longer than it normally should, though, as I watch several people stop the pilot in the middle of the messhall to inquire about his well being since his recent injury on our away mission.

It’s been forty-eight hours since our return from the planet. Lieutenant Paris was released to his quarters yesterday and after resting for one whole day he is now ready to return to duty. Tonight is his night of celebration, as Ensign Kim puts it, to see whether he’s ready to handle the helm from tomorrow’s alpha shift or not.

Evidently bringing him out to play pool was their way of confirming---or perhaps reassuring themselves of---the Lieutenant’s successful return to health.

I watch as finally, with the help of our impatient Chief Engineer and the simply ecstatic Ops Officer, the Lieutenant is extricated from the clutches of his well wishers---exuberant as they are---and we settle down on our table.

Tom Paris smiles blandly at his two friends.

"Oh get over yourself, Fly Boy." B’Elanna Torres snorts disgustedly---an obviously feigned expression---using her occasional nickname for the pilot. "We were just worried you’d strain yourself too hard, so we went easy on you."

Lieutenant Paris’s eyes widen in disbelief and he shakes his head in mock-outrage. "Losers shouldn’t insult accomplished pool players like me, B’Elanna."

"Oh please, Tom..." Ensign Kim rolls his eyes. "It wasn’t that bad. We’re getting better, you know that."

"Harry..." Lieutenant Paris shakes his head. "You saw how she played. I literally wiped the pool table with her tonight."

My brow raises at Lieutenant Torres’s affronted growl from her seat. "No one wipes the pool table with me. The only reason I lost was because you were too weak and I didn’t want to tire you out too much."

"That is incorrect," I interject. "Lieutenant Paris’s hand-to-eye coordination tonight was better than both you and Ensign Kim. He won on his own merit."

Tom Paris turns to me and his smile turns wider. "Oh Seven, I had no idea you cared." His eyes twinkle with mischief. "That’s it. I’ve decided---from now on, you’re my new best friend. I don’t like these two anymore. You know no one can beat me."

"That’s bullshit, Paris." Torres’ lips pout at him as she gives me an intolerant glare. "You’ve gotten your head too big for your own good. Chakotay can beat you at pool."

"Chakotay?" Tom shakes his head. "You’ve gotta be kidding. He hasn’t beaten me in ages. Heck he hasn’t played pool in ages. He’s not as fast as I am."

"That is incorrect too," I interject again. "Commander Chakotay’s reflexes are stronger than most people on this ship. His hand-to-eye coordination is excellent. I’ve seen him fight against and beat Commander Tuvok in his boxing simulation."

"Seven, boxing is different from playing pool." This time it’s Lieutenant Paris’s turn to pout.

"Not so much different if you take into account the factor of agility versus skill," I reply calmly. "And Commander Chakotay has both---in both the scenarios. He would be a formidable opponent for your level of playing."

"You’ve seen Chakotay box?" Lieutenant Torres looks at me incredulously. "He hasn’t shown me his boxing program."

I turn my head and look at her, my eyebrow arching at her skepticism. "It was a security drill with Commander Tuvok, two months ago. I was monitoring the various techniques they used, and their effects on their physical propensity."

"Still, he uses my Klingon Calisthenics Program," she mumbles.

"B’Elanna, you whine as much as Tom does." Ensign Kim shakes his head at his two friends.

"Me? Whine?" Tom Paris’s voice rises again. "I am not whining. I am just saying Chakotay can’t beat me so easily..."

"Oh shut up, Paris. You’re a pig," B’Elanna growls again, her mock-affronted mask back in place.

"Who’s a pig?"

I start as I look up to see Commander Chakotay standing next to my chair. The expression on Lieutenant Paris’s face changes immediately. He smiles widely at the First Officer, his lips quirking impishly. "Uh, hey Commander---have a seat."

"Thanks, Tom." Chakotay smiles at all of us as he slides down in the seat next to me. "So who’s the pig?"

"B’Elanna called Tom a pig." Harry chuckles from his seat next to the pilot.

"Why, B’Elanna, what did he do?"

"He said he could wipe the pool table with you, Chakotay." Lieutenant Torres huffs dramatically, her one brow raised in challenge.

"That’s a total lie!" Lieutenant Paris’s outraged cry rings into our ears. "I never said anything like that. I said I wiped the pool table with B’Elanna in tonight’s game, that’s all."

"Why, Tom..." The Commander smiles at him. "I thought your memory was better than that. I have beaten you at pool many times."

"Are you kidding? I always let you win because you’re my superior officer," Tom drawls.

"Is that right?" I can feel the vibrations of the Commander’s mirth emanating from his whole demeanor. He’s truly relaxed tonight. "Oh, but I can’t take advantage of you tonight, Lieutenant," He continues. "You just recovered from your severe injuries. I can’t strain you too much at pool at the moment, you know."

I feel my remaining nervousness disappear as all three of them laugh at the pilot.

"God, am I only going to be insulted tonight?" Lieutenant Paris shakes his head, as he returns the smiles.

"Don’t worry, Commander," Ensign Kim says. "Seven said you could beat the hell out of Tom at pool."

I feel myself flush as I feel the Commander’s eyes shift to my profile.

"That’s not what she said," I hear Lieutenant Paris complain again. "She said he’d make a "formidable opponent", that’s all."

"Is that true, Seven?" Chakotay’s voice is teasing yet gentle.

I turn my head to look at him. His eyes are sparkling brilliantly, his mouth softened into a still unexpectedly pleasant smile. I feel my breath catch for some unfathomable reason, as I look into his brown eyes, unable to speak for a moment.

"Tom. Commander. Seven." Our reverie is broken by the cheerful squeal from Mr. Neelix. "Look what I’ve got for you."

The Morale Officer walks jubilantly to our table, a serving tray in his hand. "I tried one of those delicious vegetables you brought from your away mission in one of my pie dishes. And its turned out wonderful." The Talaxian smiles happily as he places the tray in front of us. "I wish I could stay to see how you like it but I’ve got an alpha shift crew to serve. Please enjoy yourselves. Its absolutely delicious."

With that, he walks away---leaving the five of us in a dubious silence. "Uh, guys..." Lieutenant Paris is the first one to speak. "Did you hear Neelix say what I think I heard him say?"

"Yeah, Tom." Ensign Kim swallows. "He thinks it’s delicious."

"Oh no." The Lieutenant shakes his head. "Delicious to Neelix normally means heartburn to the rest of us."

"Oh well, his Silkari brown rice from last week wasn’t so bad." B’Elanna sighs.

"Well, it looks like a yellow version of artichokes." Harry offers in reassurance. "It can’t be that bad."

"It looks like one of your collections, Tom." Chakotay grins from my side. "I don’t remember harvesting anything like this from there." He picks up the fork lying on the tray and offers it to the pilot. "Why don’t you do the honors?"

Tom looks at the XO suspiciously as he takes the fork from his hand and then squints down at the plate of the yellowish baked vegetable pie. The smell rising from it isn’t that unpleasant and I watch as after taking a deep breath, the pilot scoops up a forkful and takes it into his mouth. Four sets of eyes watch as Lieutenant Paris chews the mouthful of the dish our cook has prepared from the vegetable sample the pilot himself harvested, watch as the expression on his face changes from mild curiosity to slight discomfort to abject horror, watch as he spits out the forkful he had taken inside his mouth---his mouth grimacing in absolute disgust.

"No, no, no...’ He moans into his napkin, as I hand him a glass of water. "I can’t believe this." He groans in disdain as he chokes down half the glass in one go.

Curious, B’Elanna tastes a spoonful from the pie and her reaction is the same. "P’Takh," She heaves a sigh of disgust. "It tastes just like Leola Root."

I hear the Commander chuckling at my side as the pilot huffs in outrage. "I can’t believe I almost got killed for this."

"Just your luck, Tom, huh?" Ensign Kim grins at his friend. "You had to go find a Leola version of Artichokes from the planet of hell."

"Who knows, Lieutenant," Chakotay says. "Those Leola-Root lookalikes you threw away down there---could’ve tasted like Mushrooms."

"I hate this." Paris sighs.

"Don’t worry, Tom," The Commander reassures him. "There are plenty of other things that we got from there. I am sure there will be some stuff more to our liking. I’d hate to think everything we harvested tastes like Leola Root."

"It doesn’t." I look at the Commander, and then at the Lieutenant. "Everything I harvested on the planet, after I’d assessed its viability and before I’d labeled and stored it in the containers, I tasted it as well to make sure it was adequate. Nothing you will find from my collection would be repulsive to eat."

"Seven, I told you---you were the best, didn’t I?" The smile is back on Lieutenant Paris’s face. Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Kim too regard me warmly---but it’s the sense of appreciation I feel coming from the Commander that sends a strange quiver of gladness inside my heart.

"Good work, Seven," he says.

But before I can respond to him, I am commed.

"Doctor to Seven of Nine. Your weekly examination is due in ten minutes. This is just a reminder."

I sigh as I hear B’Elanna Torres and Harry Kim groan at the Doctor’s voice, their subject of discussion shifting from horrifying food to horrifying medical practices at the hands of the sadistic EMH. I make a mental attempt to tune out their conversations. Unlike them, I have to face the Doctor on a much regular basis---something my Human/Borg physiology requires more persistently than they can ever realize. I don’t need to hear their worst case medical scenarios---no matter how harmless their intentions.

"You should go," Chakotay whispers next to me, his voice soothing as always.

I look at him. His eyes are soft and understanding, his face calm and his smile reassuring, as he looks into my eyes. I feel someone else’s eyes on me too and turn my head to find myself looking into Lieutenant Paris’s puzzled blue eyes. I watch as he looks at me, looks at the Commander looking at me, and then shifts his probing gaze back to me again---while his two friends stay oblivious, still busy with their sadistic-EMH-complaining. And then, I stare as a smile grows on the Lieutenant’s face, widening as something that looks like understanding dawns on his face.

"I must leave," I announce breathlessly, feeling the Commander’s eyes still on my frame, disconcerted by the various reactions I’ve received in the last few moments. "Doctor’s orders."

"See you later," Chakotay says.

I nod at him as I stand up---my eyes lingering on his face for a moment---nod at Lieutenant Paris---the expression on his face oddly amused---acknowledge Torres and Kim’s good-byes and turning around, walk out of the messhall.

Just for a moment, though, as I reach the exit, I feel myself shiver as the heat of Chakotay’s gaze lingers on my back---its comforting warmth infusing my whole body.

And then the messhall doors close behind me.

* * *

I run my palms across the soft lush blades at my sides and feel the cool slippery texture tickle my skin. So green, so luxuriantly fragrant the grass is---I take in a deep joyous breath of the cool morning air and for a moment, almost imagine myself in the real desert.

I realize, though, that a holodeck simulation is the only place in the delta quadrant where I can get a taste of that beloved, sorely missed, sunrise.

The imagery is almost nearly perfect.

A sea of sand for as far as the eye can see---chilling cold in the night, yet hot and sultry in the day. And somewhere in the middle of these sandy dunes, this small patch of greenery filled with tall leafy palms swaying to the nearly hushed murmur of the cool spring spraying out of the fractured earth. At this hour, everything around me is almost perfectly silent and still---as if waiting for life to languidly arise out of its deep slumber.

I look closely at the dark horizon and can almost make out the beginnings of the new day arriving. That hesitant bluish tint of daylight slowly making itself visible against the thick black curtain of night. I hear the distant call of a bird chirping and feel a smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

Yes. It took me years to get this simulation this far---adding little details that come back to me every time I work on the programming. Even though, I am thrilled with the work I’ve done on this, I might finally have come as close as I am ever going to get to the real thing. I’ve never shared this with anyone before, but that is going to change now.

I hear the holodeck doors open and close somewhere behind me and after a moment hear a hesitant voice call out.

"Commander?"

"Over here, Seven." I call her.

It takes her a moment, and then she walks out from behind the grove of palms, and out into the open air. I look up at her.

"Hello," I greet her.

She nods. "It is dark."

I smile. "Yes. But its soon going to be light." I pat the spot next to me. "Have a seat."

She looks at me doubtfully; her brow raised in puzzlement, but complies. With an elegant grace she’s probably unaware of possessing, she folds her long body into a sitting position and settles down on the patch of grass by my side.

A few seconds tick by in silence as we hear the steadily growing chirps of crickets and the other insects dwelling in the bushes and sands around us. Then she shifts on the grass.

"What are we doing here?" She looks at me.

I turn to her and give her a smile. "Waiting for an Arizona sunrise."

She looks at me dubiously. "A sunrise."

"Yes." I sigh. "Just wait and see. It’s going to be beautiful."

There’s silence for a moment as she ponders over my words, her blue eyes thoughtful, and then she looks at me again. "You miss Earth."

I nod. "I do. Even though I wasn’t born there, I spent a long time there after I joined the Academy. Arizona was always one of my most favorite places to visit. I loved the desert heat."

"It is cold right now," she observes.

"Yes, it is." I agree, feeling the cool morning chill delightfully make its way through my soft cotton shirt and slacks, and push my light sandals off. I rub the soles of my feet on the cool springy grass. "But it’s pleasant," I tell her.

Seven observes my bare feet for a long moment, and just when I start to think that perhaps I’ve made a mistake by taking the sandals off, she reaches down with her hands and one after the other, pulls off her own high-heeled shoes as well. Almost unresistingly, my eyes linger on her feet---they’re exquisitely formed, her toes beautifully aligned in almost a straight line, the heels of her feet arching in a long graceful curve, all covered in soft pale skin.

The sight of her sitting, barefoot, on a slope of cool dewy grass in my holodeck program, in her formfitting regenerative outfit, fills me with a strange wild giddiness---for never before had I ever imagined such a sight in my dreams. I look up into her startled eyes and find her looking at me staring at her feet, and suddenly my mouth is dry. Her eyes widen at whatever she sees on my face.

Spirits, what the hell is happening to me?

Another bird calls out in the chilling air, and I look up to the sky. The daylight is breaking. The sun is coming out.

"Look," I tell her, pointing to the sky.

She follows my gaze.

It’s like a swirling moving fountain of colors---darkness and light blending together to form a beautiful, unexplainably wonderful canvas of life. Lightness replacing the unyielding gloom of the night. The fluffy white clouds slowly becoming visible in the awakening day and from behind them comes our first glimpse of the bright, vitalizing, endlessly alive sun.

The sounds of the birds chirping is like an old melody I’d been nostalgic for a long time. The sun’s yellow rays make the whole landscape glitter like sprinkled gold dusted along the dunes and the light breeze makes the palms behind us rustle to their own private rhythm.

I let the whole scene sink into me, feelings the brightness of the day and the song of the birds fill me with a new sense of vigor.

Finally, I turn to her. "Well, what do you think?"

She takes a moment to gather her thoughts, her eyes still on the vista in front of us, and then she takes a breath and looks at me. "It is impressive."

I smile. "I’d hoped you’d enjoy it."

"I did." She lets a small smile show on her lips and then asks. "Did you program this simulation?"

"Yes," I nod, as I push myself up on one hand and stand up. "It’s never going to be as authentic as the real thing but I’ve tried to get as close as I could."

She follows my lead and stands up as well. "You’ve done well. It’s a soothing environment."

I watch as she approaches the grove of palms and turns around, her eyes lingering on the bubbling spring and the greenery. "A fertile area in the middle of a desert."

I smile. "An oasis. An island of life and hope in the midst of desolate barren dunes of sand."

She looks at me closely. "Hope. Do you always look for the bright side even when all apparent options that might lead to a favorable conclusion are gone?"

"No." I shake my head, my eyes looking into hers. "Sometimes I learn the hard way as well. Sometimes I can be the most hardheaded person you’ll ever find. But experience has taught me that you should always look for the bright side---always keep an open mind. For when you do that---hope finds you itself."

"Isn’t that an excessively optimistic approach, Commander?" There’s a slight quirk to her lips.

"Oh." I stare deep into her eyes, my own eyes soft. "But I thrive on optimism, Seven."

"I am beginning to see that." She returns my gaze, her eyes twinkling. With a nod and a slight smile on her lips, she moves out to stand at the edge of the greenery, next to a tall palm tree. The sun is peeking from behind the clouds, still not completely out but somehow brighter now---its rays washing everything in its luminescent brilliance. I look over the view, my eyes travelling over the dry terrain, watching as a flock of birds flies towards some distant abode, and then my gaze rests on my companion.

Her face turned towards the sparkling spring in the middle of the oasis, her fingers play with a drooping leaf of the palm, as my eyes travel from her bare feet up to her graceful, arching profile, to rest on her golden mane. The sunlight lingers in her hair, making them sparkle under the shade of the palm, turning them alive all of a sudden---their suddenly overwhelming luster turning my mouth dry again.

She notices my eyes on her and turns her face to look at me, and we’re caught in each other’s gazes---her eyes a beautiful, shimmering hue of blue unlike any I’d ever seen before. My heart filling with that same wild giddiness, I find myself walking to her in a daze---suddenly seized by the desire to sink my fingers into her hair.

She looks at me, her eyes wide, as I reach her side---that same now-familiar flush heating her beautiful face.

"May I?" I ask her, my voice suddenly hoarse, as my hand reaches up to touch the line of her hair pulled back from her face.

She nods, her throat convulsing, her breathing uneven.

My fingers slowly map the terrain with their pads as I stroke her bound hair with that one hand, until they reach the pin that clasps her hair into that bun. With a gentle tug, I pull it out and her hair loosens, falling into beautiful wavy strands around her face. I feel my breath catch in my throat as the sunrays fall on her silky tresses, making them glitter like threads made of gold---turning her exquisitely beautiful to me.

My heart hammering loudly in my ears, my fingers running through her golden hair, I gently pull her close, lower my mouth and press my lips to hers. I feel her stiffen against me for a second and then my hand is travelling down to the middle of her back, tenderly rubbing away her fears, my fingers gentle in their touch---and with a soft sigh, she comes closer, her own trembling hands coming around my shoulders. As I trace her soft lips with mine, I feel the heated vibrations of her moan reverberating against my skin, her taste infinitely sweet against my mouth, and with a sigh I let her mouth go, leaning back to look at her face.

Her eyes are closed, her face burning with that beautiful crimson shade, as her breaths come out of her parted lips in small panting gasps---the stunning sight of her making my heart thud against my ribcage. And then she opens her eyes and I am lost in the depths of her soul. I cradle her heated face in my palms, my fingers rubbing her flaming cheeks, as her hands tighten around my shoulders.

"A piece of work indeed," I whisper, my eyes glazed, as a sudden smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.

A small frown appears between her brows. "Explain." She looks confused. So I lower my lips to claim her mouth once more, my smile widening against her pliant mouth. This time, her lips part against mine and I hear myself moan as I finally taste the sweetness of her mouth, my tongue plunging inside to drink at her lush tang. Her hands are moving down my back now, her lips moving against mine, urgent in their need, and I press her closer to me, my hands moving in her hair, threading through the silky strands and my mouth slants against hers to kiss her harder.

As we hold each other close under the shade of the palm tree, her strong slender body pressing against mine, her arms tighten around me and I feel a lightness invade my heart.

That yawning gap in my thoughts, that fissure that had felt as if it had shattered my soul only a few days back, no longer exists. In its place, is a sweet tenderness---that I had never thought I'd find again.

There's hope after all in the midst of all desolation.

My reason is found again.