Chapter Text
“Since this was the first time her words had ever been directed to me, I became so ecstatic that, like a drunken man, I turned away from everyone and I sought the loneliness of my room, where I began thinking of this most gracious lady and, thinking of her, I fell into a sweet sleep.”
-La Vita Nuova by Dante Alighieri (trans. Mark Musa)
Barring disasters and strange spatial phenomena, the senior staff of the USS Voyager hold their regular weekly meeting at 0900 hours every Monday, one hour into Alpha Shift. Though not a ranked crewmember, Seven of Nine has attended 212 of these weekly meetings, having been unofficially incorporated into the senior staff several months after her arrival on the ship.
Seven thinks these meetings a clever mode of disseminating data to the department heads, who will further disseminate to their staff members, as well as an ideal venue for hosting discussions on current problems of relevance. She also thinks these meetings inefficiently orchestrated — frequently they devolve into irrelevant discourse, or ‘chitchat’, among the senior staff.
It is unfortunate that Seven is being dragged into this irrelevant discourse.
She prepares to head to the briefing room, with the intention of arriving five minutes early. She and Neelix need to discuss details for Ensign Kim’s surprise party later, which she has already agreed to assist with. While the briefing room is not the most appropriate place for such a discussion, she sees no alternative. She has to lead the engineering team in a complete recalibration of the EPS manifolds, which she estimates to take the rest of the day, leaving no time later for ‘chitchat’ with Neelix.
Seven’s last five and a half months as chief engineer have been hectic, to say the least. As head of astrometrics, she has years of experience leading a department, and yet it has not sufficiently prepared her for this particular challenge. Every system onboard, every problem, seems to come back to engineering, and it is up to Seven and her team to fix it. And although Seven considers herself a talented problem-solver under pressure when it comes to astrometrics, she finds restoring a warp field in under five minutes while under enemy fire to be… difficult. Every day she appreciates more how creative B’Elanna Torres is, and how effectively she is able to remain clear-headed and utilize that creativity, even in crisis.
Lieutenants Torres and Paris have been on parental leave since the birth of their daughter, Miral. As the most skilled engineer after Lieutenant Torres, Seven has been fulfilling the role of chief engineer. She splits her time between engineering and astrometrics, with Ensign Vorik and Crewman Gilmore filling in whenever Seven is in astrometrics. Seven suspects that Crewman Gilmore could perform the role of chief engineer adequately, but either her lack of familiarity with Voyager or her troubled history on the Equinox made Captain Janeway reluctant to give her that responsibility.
Her new chief engineer role means Seven is now at every senior staff meeting. She is always looked to for warp core efficiency reports, for miraculous solutions. She has never regarded herself as needing recreational time in order to function, but now she understands the value of having time that is her own, where she gets to decide what she does, instead of catering to everyone else’s needs. Fortunately, Lieutenant Torres plans to return to her engineering duties for four half-days a week soon. Seven is looking forward to the respite. She wants to work on her personal astrophysics projects again, play Kadis Kot with Naomi Wildman, and spend time with Captain Janeway.
In fact, Seven has barely seen the captain the past few months — her divided duties as dual department heads mean she is rarely available to serve on the bridge. Any ‘spare time’ she has she spends following up on problems that crop up in engineering during her absence, or regenerating.
“Ensign Vorik,” Seven says, straightening and stepping away from one of the centre consoles. “I am leaving for the senior staff meeting. These relays are still misaligned. You will continue to repair them.”
“Yes, sir,” Vorik says with a nod.
“When I return, we will begin our recalibration of the EPS manifolds.”
Seven heads towards the doors. She nods at several of the engineers as she passes by.
As Seven moves through the hallways towards the turbolift, she thinks about the senior staff meeting, and seeing Captain Janeway. She suspects that her own busy schedule is not the only reason why she has been seeing little of the captain. Ever since Voyager’s attack on the transwarp hub, when the ship dealt a brutal blow to the Borg but also lost another opportunity to return to the Alpha Quadrant, the captain has been withdrawn. Seven has seen it before in Janeway, but never for this long a period. With every year that Seven gets to know her better, she also finds herself more and more affected by the captain’s moods, her depression spreading to Seven like an airborne disease.
Fortunately, the captain seems to be doing better recently. At their staff meeting last week, they sent Ensign Kim away to astrometrics early so that the rest of the senior staff could covertly plan his upcoming party. Janeway’s smile had felt genuine, and her eyes more alert. She seemed to genuinely be looking forward to the celebration. It eased some of the tension that has been lingering in Seven’s chest for months.
The turbolift arrives, unoccupied. Seven steps inside, tucking her arms behind her back, and says, “Bridge.” The doors shut and the white lights pulse as the turbolift starts rising.
Perhaps after the meeting, Seven should ask the captain to a game of Velocity. With B’Elanna’s part-time return, Seven will have the time now to fit it in.
The thought of the captain accepting makes Seven’s heart feel light and airy for a few seconds. She considers the uniqueness of this feeling. Seven has come to care for many people on Voyager, and has missed spending time with them — Icheb, Naomi Wildman, Lt. Commander Tuvok. But the way she has missed Captain Janeway feels different, in a way she struggles to identify. It isn’t logical to care about Janeway more than she does the others, and yet time spent with the captain is… special.
The turbolift doors hiss open, and Seven steps onto the bridge. The captain isn’t there, but Commander Chakotay looks over his shoulder with a smile and says, “Morning, Seven.”
“Commander.”
She walks across the top level of the bridge, passing by Ensign Kim, who smiles at her. “Hey, Seven.” He glances down at his monitor, and his smile turns into a thoughtful half-frown as he says, “You’re a little early.”
“I wish to speak with Neelix before the meeting. Has he arrived yet?”
“No. But I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
Seven sighs quietly, annoyed but not surprised. “I will wait for him in the briefing room, then.”
“As soon as he arrives, I’ll tell him to head straight in,” Kim promises. “I won’t even let him get into one of his discussions about Belgian waffles.”
Seven gives him a smile with her eyes, rounds his station, and walks into the briefing room.
She expects it to be empty, so feels a jolt of surprise at seeing Captain Janeway near the window, cup of coffee in one hand and PADD in the other, which she is reading off of with a focused set to her eyebrows.
“Captain.”
Janeway looks up and smiles. “Seven. How goes the warp core?”
“It was still functioning when I left engineering.”
“That’s what a captain always wants to hear. And how are you doing?” Janeway tosses the PADD down on the table and takes a sip from her mug.
“I am… looking forward to Lieutenant Torres’ upcoming return.”
The corner of Janeway’s mouth twitches. “Missed her that much?”
“Chief engineer is an extremely demanding position. I prefer being in astrometrics.”
“I haven’t served as a chief engineer before, but I imagine it’s quite taxing,” Janeway says, sitting down at the head of the table. “You’ve been doing a fantastic job these past few months.”
Seven warms at the compliment. “Thank you, Captain.” She mirrors Janeway and sits down in the chair beside her. Normally, the seat is unofficially reserved for Commander Chakotay or Lt. Commander Tuvok, but Seven feels it is appropriate in this moment, with just the two of them here. She does not wish to sit at the end of the table, away from the captain.
Seven glances at the PADD that Janeway has tossed down. She sees a few sentences about exotic matter. “What are you reading?”
“A paper that Chakotay gave me.” There is excitement in the captain’s voice as she picks up the PADD again. “A friend of his back home is a theoretical physicist, and she’s submitting it for publication. It’s on variable mass of wormholes.”
Seven tilts her head. “How does it approach the problem of mass-energy conservation?”
“Her proposed solution is quite ingenious, in fact. I’ll give it to you once I’m finished.” Janeway taps her PADD against the table. “We haven’t had much time to talk lately. I know filling in for B’Elanna must be a lot of work, but are you enjoying it at least? Being chief engineer of an Intrepid-class starship?” Her tone is teasing but kind. Seven has missed this side of her.
“I have enjoyed working more closely with the engineering staff. Now that I know them better, we are able to function more efficiently as a unit.”
“Mm.”
She is waiting for more. Seven shifts her shoulders, out of practice with the captain’s probing conversational style. Finally she admits, “It is gratifying to know that I am now trusted by the engineers. And Lieutenant Torres. She no longer deliberately looks for flaws in my methods when I deliver my engineering reports.”
“She can be a harsh taskmaster,” Janeway says with a laugh in her voice. “But she certainly keeps her team in line. I’m glad the two of you are getting along better. And that the engineering staff are responding to you more positively.” She sets her mug and PADD down and leans back, lacing her fingers together. “They must see you as a good leader.”
Seven isn’t certain what to say to this. It isn’t exactly the captain giving her a compliment — she is just reporting what she believes the engineering staff to think — and yet she says it like it’s an opinion she shares. Seven just nods, her throat suddenly tight.
The briefing room doors open and the Doctor walks in. Janeway startles a little at the sound, even though it shouldn’t be surprising; the staff meeting is scheduled to begin in two minutes and four seconds.
“Doctor,” Janeway says in greeting.
“Captain, Seven!” he says cheerily. “How are you two doing today?” His voice drops to an exaggerated whisper, even though they are the only three people present. “Everything ready for the party later?”
“I plan to discuss that with Neelix right after the meeting,” Janeway says. “He has big plans in store. I’m only happy I’m not the one in charge of all the cooking.”
“As are the rest of us,” Seven mutters.
Janeway narrows her eyes. “I don’t recall you offering up your phenomenal culinary skills for the party. Is a chief engineer too busy for such frivolities?”
“Perhaps as captain, you should reassign me to the kitchen. I’m certain the warp core can run itself from now on, so that I always have sufficient time to bake pain au chocolat.”
“Hmm, I’ll talk to B’Elanna. Maybe she’d be willing to come back full-time to aid such an important cause.” Janeway is wearing a look of concentrated thought on her face, but Seven senses that she is only teasing, and she is pleased that she has developed the skills to tease back. She finds that she enjoys it.
The Doctor has taken a seat near Seven, but he has not joined in on their conversation, as though he can’t quite catch an opening. He tries now and says, “I’m sure Neelix will do his best to create a… memorable menu. I must admit, at times I’m grateful I don’t eat.”
“When you talk with Neelix, will you ask him to report to engineering later to speak with Lieutenant Mrado about the modifications he requires to the lighting in the mess hall?” Seven asks the captain. “I will not have sufficient time to discuss the details with him.” Seven could just ask Neelix during the meeting, but she knows that the Voyager crew wish to maximize the surprise elements of this gathering, and she does not want to take that pleasure away from them.
“I’ll make sure to tell him. I’ll warn him to pull out a spare pair of oven mitts, too, just in case you decide to join him as a new chief cook.”
“A wise precaution, Captain.”
The rest of the senior staff start to file in. Janeway gives Seven one more teasing smile, and soon the meeting starts.
They review the charted course for the upcoming week. Lieutenant Torres is in attendance, as part of her gradual return to duty. Lieutenant Paris, who plans to take a longer full-time leave with Miral, is not. At the end of the meeting, the captain promises to see them all for the party this evening. The crew is using the pretense of a celebration of Bolian midsummer to disguise the event’s true nature from Ensign Kim.
As they all stand to leave, Commander Chakotay says, “Seven, will you stop by my office at around 1300 hours? You as well, Tuvok.”
Seven holds back a sigh. Engineering will be in the middle of the EPS manifold procedure at 1300. Any extended absence by Seven will mean a drop in efficiency, possibly even pushing back the completion of the project by a day. But she suspects the nature of this meeting, and if she is correct, she knows its importance, so she replies, “Yes, Commander.” Tuvok nods as well.
Captain Janeway raises a questioning eyebrow, so Chakotay explains, “More party preparation.”
“I see. I’m lucky to have a first officer so dedicated to his duties.”
“I take this job very seriously, Captain,” he says, and grins.
Seven heads for the door, but glances back once to make eye contact with the captain, who says, “See you tonight, Seven.”
“Yes, Captain.”
-
Seven did not visit Commander Chakotay’s office frequently for her first few years on Voyager. When her department needed to report astrometric data, she delivered it to the captain or Tuvok. However, now that Seven is in charge of the largest department on board, she has to make extensive personnel reports to the commander, which meant regular visits to his office. These visits grew even more frequent when Chakotay, Seven and Tuvok began their special ‘meetings’.
Seven chimes and enters Commander Chakotay’s office, which is clean and lightly decorated. A couple of potted plants sit near the far wall.
Tuvok is already there, standing in front of Chakotay’s desk. Seven moves to stand beside him.
Chakotay sighs softly. “Would either of you be interested in sitting down?”
Tuvok glances at Seven, and they both reluctantly sit in the chairs in front of the commander’s desk.
“What did you wish to discuss, Commander?” Tuvok asks.
“I thought we should check in. The captain hasn’t been doing too well these last few months, but she seems to be much better in the past few days.” Chakotay settles back in his chair. “Do you think she might swing back around, or is this a good sign?”
“I predict this positive trajectory to continue,” Tuvok says. “Based on what I have observed of Captain Janeway in the past, her recent increase in energy and focus indicates an improvement in her mental state.”
“I agree,” Seven adds. “The captain visited engineering twice last week during her ‘strolls’ of the ship. When she is in a depressed state, she remains stationary in her ready room for the majority of her shift.”
Tuvok lifts his eyebrows. “An astute observation.”
Chakotay’s shoulders relax. “Good. I’ve also noticed her interacting with the crew more. Have either of you done anything social with her recently?”
While Tuvok describes recent meals he’s shared with the captain, Seven observes Commander Chakotay. He is calm, his dark eyes trained on Tuvok. It is interesting to Seven how strongly the captain affects everyone close to her. Commander Chakotay has been more serious these past few months, with a shorter tolerance for mistakes than the even-tempered man normally exhibits. All his energy has been directed towards caring for the captain and keeping a constant gauge on her mental state, and he seems to have little energy left for caring for himself.
Five months ago, Voyager passed by a nebula swarming with Borg activity. They skirted the area, and a few days later encountered a fleet of species 7883, the Hanep. They informed Voyager’s crew that the nebula was hiding a Borg transwarp hub. Voyager turned back, and with the help of the Hanep, who had been fighting the Borg for years, they fired transphasic torpedoes from inside one of the conduits, detonating them after they had spread to several conduits, so that the cascading effect collapsed the hub. The attack meant Voyager only had seconds to retreat before the conduits were destroyed, not enough time to use one and travel back to the Alpha Quadrant. They flew out of the entrance aperture before it collapsed, and back into the Delta Quadrant. Five of the seven Hanep ships were destroyed, and two members of Voyager’s crew, Ensigns Rel and Belish, were killed.
The senior staff unanimously agreed to the plan, but Seven suspects Janeway felt an illogical guilt about once more condemning them to the Delta Quadrant, as though she made the decision all alone.
After these events, the captain withdrew rapidly. It puzzled Seven. Especially since the rest of the crew, after recovering for several weeks from the ensigns’ losses, seemed better than ever. They had dealt their greatest blow yet to the Borg. Everyone was at last in regular contact with their families back home. There was a new baby aboard, and Seven has learned that if anything excites humanoids, it’s babies. But none of these things seemed to uplift the captain.
Janeway started spending all her shifts in her ready room, which then became some shifts in her ready room and some shifts in her quarters. Seven never saw her eating in the mess. She didn’t come visit her in engineering or astrometrics.
Two days after the last of Neelix’s annual Prixin parties, which Janeway didn’t attend, Chakotay called Seven and Tuvok to his office, and their biweekly meetings began. All they discussed was Captain Janeway — dissecting her recent behaviour, restructuring the workload of the senior staff so that the captain had less administrative duties to attend to, pre-emptively filling away mission teams to discourage the captain from leading dangerous missions in her present state of mind.
After questioning Lt. Commander Tuvok, Seven learnt that he and Chakotay had meetings like these in the past, in a less official capacity. This was the first time Seven was invited to join.
She recognizes the significance of this. In the eyes of Tuvok and Chakotay, the two closest people to Janeway on Voyager, Seven has recently become part of the captain’s ‘inner circle’. It is an extremely nuanced social structuring, one that should confuse Seven, and yet she understands it with perfect clarity, and knows that this is one of the most important developments in her humanity she has made since the day she became an individual. Seven matters to the captain, so much and so transparently that it is easily observed by the people around them.
“Do you think she’s ready to lead away missions again?” Chakotay asks, his question directed to Tuvok.
“If the captain decides to lead away missions again, then any attempt to stop her would be a futile effort,” Seven points out.
“I suppose you’re right,” Chakotay says with amusement.
“If the captain is accompanied by another senior officer, then I believe an away mission to be an acceptable level of risk,” Tuvok says. “She has a renewed sense of focus. In fact, a change of routine may be what she requires to improve her state of mind.”
Seven’s combadge chirps. “Ensign Vorik to Seven of Nine.”
She taps it. “Seven of Nine here.”
“We’re having a problem with one of the plasma injectors.”
“I am on my way.” Seven stands. “I must return to engineering. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?”
“No, I’ll let you get back to your duties.” Chakotay stands as well. “I would say that the captain would appreciate all you’ve done for her…”
“But she is a stubborn individual who frequently rejects help from others,” Seven finishes.
Chakotay nods. “But I want you to know that I appreciate it.”
Seven swallows. “You are welcome.” She tilts her head to Tuvok, moves towards the door, then turns back at the threshold and says, “I hope to not see either of you at these meetings in the near future.”
Chakotay laughs. “We hope to not see you either.”
-
Seven bats a drooping leaf out of her face and hunches closer to the control panel. She and Icheb are trying to adjust the lights to Neelix’s exacting specifications — the engineers earlier weren’t quite able to capture the effect he was envisioning.
Neelix has transformed the mess hall into a forest. Plants and orb-shaped lanterns are scattered around the room. She recognizes one of the broad potted ferns from Chakotay’s office, and a couple of orchids that normally stand in the captain’s ready room. Crewman Tal is moving around the room and switching on the lanterns. Neelix has requested the spectrum of the overhead lights to be altered to a low purple glow, to ‘give off the effect of twilight’.
Icheb adjusts a few wires with his hyperspanner. “How is that?” he asks, as the colour of the lights shifts.
Seven looks over her shoulder at Neelix and raises her eyebrow. “Does this meet with your specifications?”
“Almost, almost,” he says, rushing over and kneeling beside the two of them. “It could be a little warmer. And perhaps a touch dimmer?”
Seven holds back an eyeroll and turns to Icheb. “Lower the wavelength by thirty nanometres, and reduce the light output by ten percent.”
Icheb makes the modifications, and the overhead lights change to a soft pink.
“Perfect!” Neelix says, jostling Icheb as he claps him on the shoulder. “Like a warm summer night on Talax.”
“I thought we were trying to represent a summer night on Bolarus IX,” Icheb points out.
“Uh, yes, well.” Neelix scratches at a tuft of hair on his cheek. “I don’t think Chell or Golwat will mind. Besides, a taste of Talax never hurt anyone.”
Seven gives him a skeptical look. “It seems not.”
“I should get back to the puff pastries,” Neelix says, standing and scampering off to the kitchen.
Seven and Icheb seal the panel and stand, Seven taking the hyperspanner and tucking it back into her personal toolkit. Icheb dusts off his knees so that his cadet uniform is once more pristine. When he began his training, Captain Janeway allowed him to continue wearing his civilian attire, but because of the formality of tonight’s event, Icheb has decided to wear a dress uniform. Seven has seen him fiddling with his collar several times already and imagines that it is not particularly comfortable, though it does make him look more like a member of Starfleet. She feels a mild ache in her chest at the thought that he is moving further away from her.
“I will bring my tools back to the cargo bay and return shortly. Will you stay to assist Neelix with any last-minute decoration whims?”
“Of course,” Icheb says.
“Did you remember the box the captain gave you?”
He pulls a small black box from his pocket. “Don’t worry.”
“I am not worried,” Seven says with a frown. “I will see you soon.”
When Seven returns, dressed in formal civilian clothing, the mess is already crowded with people. A few crewmen are helping Neelix carry out trays of food.
B’Elanna Torres spots Seven and immediately rushes over. She is in her gold dress uniform and has what looks like a glass of Bolian cider in hand.
“Did the recalibration go okay?” she asks.
“The procedure was a success.”
“Did you double check the coolant ducts on the upper level after you finished? Sometimes they can glitch after-”
“Everything has been attended to, Lieutenant. The procedure took longer than anticipated, but engineering has now been restored to full functionality.”
“Okay, okay,” Torres says. “Everything alright? You usually like talking about engineering.”
“I am feeling… apprehensive. I dislike parties. Especially ones I am expected to speak publicly at.” Seven’s mind flashes back guiltily to Lieutenant Torres’ baby shower, which Seven skipped altogether because of anxiety.
Torres’ face softens minutely. “It’ll be fine, Seven. It’s just Harry, after all. He’ll be happy no matter what you say.” She steps back and looks Seven over. “I like your outfit.”
Seven shifts her hands behind her back. “Thank you.” Since the rest of the crew was in dress uniform, she thought she should wear something other than the biosuits she has on every day, so she has chosen a light blue button-up shirt, tucked into black trousers. The shirt sleeves are long and cover the implants on her arms. Her hair remains pinned up like usual — she does not want to forgo practicality altogether.
“You also look pleasing,” Seven says. The lieutenant’s hair is curly, with a few strands on the side braided.
Torres seems surprised. “Thanks.”
“When will Ensign Kim be arriving?”
“Tom will bring him in a few minutes. He’ll let me know when they’re on the way. Right now he and Miral are busy entertaining Harry in his quarters.”
“Good,” Seven says, a little distracted. Over Lieutenant Torres’ shoulder she has spotted the captain, who is at a repurposed bar table near the windows with Icheb, instructing him on the amount of cider to pour into people’s glasses. She is standing near one of the orb lanterns, and the white light brightens the red of her uniform and catches a wave of her hair so that it is almost gold. “I will go make sure Icheb is prepared.”
“Seven, try to relax, okay?” Torres says. “I mean it, Harry will be happy no matter how your speech goes, and so will the rest of us. I’m sure he’ll appreciate that you wanted to say anything at all.”
Seven forces her breath to slow, trying to take in her words. “I appreciate your help, Lieutenant.”
“Hey, chief engineers need to stick together, right?” Torres gives her a playful look and drifts away into the crowd.
When Seven arrives at Janeway and Icheb’s table, the captain is garnishing Tuvok’s glass of punch with a lime wedge.
“Hello, Seven! Would you like something to drink?”
“I do not require liquid refreshment at this time.”
“Well, if you change your mind, I’m sure our new bartender will be able to take care of anything you require.” Janeway puts her hand on Icheb’s shoulder. “I’m leaving the drinks in your capable hands, Cadet.”
“Yes, Captain.” He straightens up, very serious.
Janeway grins and leaves the bar to form a small standing circle with Seven and Tuvok.
“You look very nice, Seven,” Janeway tells her. Her eyes linger on Seven’s shirt.
For some reason, her compliment makes Seven feel more nervous than Lieutenant Torres’ had. “I thought a change of clothes would be appropriate for the occasion.”
“How’s your punch, Mr. Tuvok?” Janeway turns to her friend.
“It is flavourful, Captain.”
“Do you think I would make it far as a bartender, or should I quit now?”
“I have known you to succeed in every endeavour you set your mind to,” he says. “I do not doubt that you would be an accomplished mixer of drinks if you were to pursue such an activity. However, might I suggest that you stick with your duties as captain.”
Janeway’s eyebrows quirk up in bashful amusement. Seven takes a moment to appreciate the captain like this. When she is with Tuvok, her guard sometimes falls away a little, like he allows her to recall a time other than Voyager, when she was something other than just a captain. It is a rare treat to witness.
Seven will usually spend the entirety of a party reviewing the Doctor’s social lessons from many years ago, attempting to apply them. It can be reassuring to have a clear guide to rely upon when navigating unfamiliar situations, like the standard procedures one follows when conducting ship’s maintenance — Dress for Success, Beguiling Banter, Life of the Party. However, with Tuvok and the captain, Seven feels more at ease, and the rules of socialization fade into the background. They are two people who she knows she can always speak easily with, and who will not become upset when she does not observe standard conversational protocols.
Lieutenant Torres rushes over then, her hand landing on Seven’s shoulder. “Tom says that he and Harry and Miral are heading over now.”
Neelix appears at Seven’s other shoulder. “Did you say Harry is on his way?”
“Yes,” Seven says.
“Everyone!” Neelix announces loudly, clapping his hands together twice. “Mr. Kim is on his way here. If you all could clear the floor here, this is where the captain will stand… Sam, is the cake ready to go?”
Ensign Wildman looks over to her daughter, who is hovering at the kitchen entrance. Naomi Wildman gives a thumbs up and says, “The cake is ready, Neelix.”
“Good, good. We’ll need space on the table here. Mr. Tuvok, if you could clear it off? Captain, you’ll stand over here.” Neelix guides the captain to the space where the couches normally are. They have been moved to the far side of the room for the evening. Captain Janeway crooks her finger for Icheb to join her. Seven moves to the front of the crowd so that she can watch them both closely.
When Kim, Paris, and the baby arrive, they are greeted by Crewman Chell playing a very poor rendition of Midsummer Winds on a curved Bolian flute. Paris, his daughter strapped to his chest, steps into the crowd, which has gone silent, and Commander Chakotay walks over to Ensign Kim, guiding him to where the captain and Icheb are standing.
“Is everything okay?” Kim asks, his face bewildered.
“Ensign Kim,” the captain says formally, her arms folded in front of her body. He straightens up automatically. “You have served as my Operations officer for the past seven and a half years. Had we been back home, I likely would have lost you years ago to another captain promoting you to a position on another ship. I feel very fortunate that I was the first one to snatch you up from the Academy, and that you’ve stayed to serve on my bridge ever since.” Her face softens briefly, eyebrows lilting up, and then she raises her chin and the professionalism returns to the captain’s face, like it’s the only thing getting her through this.
“I know this posting on Voyager isn’t what you imagined for your first assignment, but it has been a privilege to have you here with us. You are an irreplaceable part of this crew. Cadet?”
She turns to Icheb, who pulls the box from his pocket and opens it for her.
“Thank you. Ensign, for your exemplary services as Operations officer, it is my pleasure to grant you the rank of Lieutenant junior grade.” She removes the pip from the small box and pins it to the curving neck of Harry Kim’s dress uniform. “I’ve never served with an officer who deserved it more.”
“Thank you, Captain,” he says, grabbing the captain’s hand with both of his and shaking it. Seven has never seen a bigger smile on his face. He shakes hands with Icheb as well, who congratulates him. The crew all applaud.
Seven’s gaze flicks to the captain, whose eyes are shining. Her throat bobs several times before she turns to the rest of the crew and says, “And happy Bolian midsummer, everyone.”
They all raise their glasses and cheer. Tom Paris and B’Elanna Torres appear instantaneously at Lieutenant Kim’s side after the toast, hugging him profusely, and the crowd guides him to the head of one of the long tables, where Neelix places a cake in front of him.
“It’s coconut and vanilla,” Naomi Wildman explains.
Seven walks up to the table and says, “Naomi has been perfecting the recipe for several weeks.”
“Thank you, Naomi,” Kim says sincerely, and Naomi beams.
“Congratulations, Harry,” Seven tells him. The name feels odd in her mouth, but it seems like it was the right thing to say. He grins up at her, with an energy radiating from his face and shoulders like he will never run out of happiness from the memories of this evening.
The cake is cut and set to the side while everyone eats and drinks their way through the rest of dinner. The crew is scattered around the room, while the senior staff sit at the table with Lieutenant Kim. When it is time for dessert, slices of cake are passed in an energetic frenzy around the room.
Seven finds herself seated between Tom Paris and Lt. Commander Tuvok, with Captain Janeway across from her. Cake has appeared in front of her, which she picks at tentatively with her fork. She wants to reward Naomi Wildman for her hard work by eating it, but she finds most sugary foods unpleasantly intense.
Janeway, already halfway through her cake, points her fork at Harry and says, “I know that a promotion like this usually comes with greater responsibilities, so Tuvok and I have been talking and he’s agreed to begin training you in tactical. When we get back home, you’ll have more opportunities for advancement if you have a wider variety of experiences.”
Seven hears a small laugh, and turns her head to the left to see Miral Paris-Torres watching her from her spot on her father’s lap. Miral Paris-Torres — a lengthy and inefficient designation. Though Seven isn’t really one to talk.
Almost half a year old now, Miral has a head of dark, downy hair, and has recently learnt how to smile and laugh, which she practises at every available opportunity.
Seven maintains eye contact with her for a few seconds. She raises her eyebrow minutely, and Miral’s face splits into another grin.
Seven glances up to see Janeway watching her with one of her unknown expressions.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Torres says, and Janeway’s eyes dart away from Seven’s face. “Harry was telling me that he found a class five nebula on long-range sensors this afternoon. Are you going to send an away team to survey it?”
“I’ve been thinking about it, yes. It shows some interesting readings so far, but it’s a little out of the way, and there’s a couple of small asteroid fields between us and the nebula.”
“Now that I’m returning to duty part-time, maybe I could join the away team. I haven’t left the ship in weeks.”
“I’m not sure if this would be the best one for your return, B’Elanna,” Janeway admits, taking a sip of her drink. “Harry was showing me the projected route. It would take the Delta Flyer eleven days, roundtrip.”
“Probably a little long,” Lieutenant Paris says, his voice tentative, afraid of his wife’s reaction. But Torres just nods and looks to Miral, who grins at her, and she grins back.
“Actually, I was thinking of leading this away mission,” the captain says. “I haven’t had a chance to survey a nebula in a long while. I need to stretch my legs.”
Seven’s chest tightens. She turns to Tuvok beside her, who makes brief eye contact with her before saying to the captain, “Would you object to an experienced tactical officer and former junior science officer joining you on this mission?”
“Worried about me, Tuvok?” Janeway’s voice is still light, but there is a slight cautioning look in her expression, as though she is expecting resistance to her proposal.
“On the contrary, Captain. More personnel with scientific expertise will maximize the amount of data we collect during the survey. As I have many decades of experience, I wish to offer my assistance. I trust that you will find my company tolerable for eleven days.”
Seven tunes out of the conversation again, deeply unsettled by the tension sitting in her chest. She knows that the captain is a capable individual, and that Tuvok’s presence on this away mission will ensure she does not take any rash actions. So why is she experiencing this growing unease? She remembers Tuvok and Chakotay discussing the possibility of the captain undertaking away missions again, though she hadn’t realized it would be happening so soon.
It is the length of the trip, she concludes. The thought of Captain Janeway being absent from the ship for eleven days is… unacceptable.
Why is it unacceptable?
“I think it’s time we have some toasts,” Chakotay says, raising his glass of cider. “Seven, are you ready to start?”
“Yes,” she replies shakily. Icheb brought her a flute of sparkling juice earlier, and she grabs it with her Human hand and rises from her chair. Paris clinks his fork against his glass a few times and the room quiets.
I want to spend more time with Captain Janeway, Seven reasons, especially now that the captain seems to be feeling better.
But she can spend time with the captain when she returns from her away mission.
That isn’t acceptable. She wants to spend time with the captain now, today and tomorrow and every other day.
“Lieutenant Kim,” Seven begins. Her heartrate has accelerated. She takes a breath. Her mind flashes to one of her social lessons, Toast the Town. She looks down the table to the Doctor, who is smiling encouragingly, and it calms her slightly.
“When I first arrived on Voyager, I found you to be energetic, perplexing, and inefficiently talkative. After years of deliberation, I have concluded that my first impressions were correct.”
The room chuckles. Seven is focused only on Harry, but she can feel the weight of everybody’s eyes on her.
“However, with time I have been able to make additional observations about you. I have learnt that you are ambitious and considerate. I did not realize at first that your loquaciousness was an attempt to make me feel more welcome.” She pauses. “After being separated from the Collective, you were the first individual who made me smile. I appreciate you reminding me how to do so.”
He has a soft expression on his face, and is watching her attentively.
“I have no doubt that you will continue to excel at being an officer, as well as a friend.” She raises the flute up and says, “To Lieutenant Harry Kim.”
The room is a discordant mixture of “To Harry!”, “To Lieutenant Kim!”, and miscellaneous whoops of praise. Everyone applauds, and as Seven sits, Harry is beaming at her.
Tom Paris calls for Harry to give his own speech, and then he is standing and talking, but Seven can barely concentrate on his words.
She looks across to Captain Janeway, who is watching Harry with adoration. She looks beautiful in the artificial twilight, especially the curve of her smiling eyes. Seven is overcome with an understanding of how special Janeway is. Special to her. She has been in a hivemind of billions, and even after becoming an individual, she has personally encountered hundreds of beings in addition to the 144 other crewmembers currently on Voyager. None of them feel special the way the captain does.
“I don’t know what my life would have been like if my request to join Voyager hadn’t been approved,” Harry is saying. Seven tries to bring her focus back to him. “Now that we’re in contact with home again, we’re hearing all the time about everyone we lost during the Dominion War. Friends who I haven’t seen since I was at the Academy have died. If I was back there with them, maybe I would have died as well.”
He swallows. He had been looking all around the room during his speech, but as he continues, his attention shifts to the captain, like the rest is for her.
“It’s funny. The longer we’re away from Earth, the more I miss home, but I also miss it less every day that I get to know this crew better. I feel lucky to have served on Voyager for all these years. And until we make it back, I can’t think of any other people who I would rather be sharing my life with.”
The captain’s eyes are shining with unshed tears again. She holds them in, the way she always holds herself in. Seven feels a spike of desire to see her cry. To see her reveal even a fraction of what’s going on within. Seven wants everyone else in the room to disappear, so that only she gets to perceive the captain in this vulnerable state.
She struggles to remember if her reactions to the captain have always been this strong.
Even though she is finished giving her toast, her heartrate is still elevated. She can feel her pulse thrumming in her throat.
Lieutenant Paris gives a toast (with Miral chiming in occasionally), and then the party turns more informal as people get up from their seats to come congratulate Harry personally. Everybody starts milling around the room.
Seven stands mechanically and turns to the viewport, watching distant star systems distort as Voyager flies by at warp six.
She doesn’t know what is happening to her. She has had a panic attack before, and it is beginning to feel like one is creeping up on her now — her heart won’t slow, and her head and hands are tingling to the point of dizziness. But she also knows she is on the edge of a revelation, one she refuses to turn away from, and so she takes no action to calm herself down. She continues looking blankly at the stars.
She can hear the crew talking, and it is easy for her to separate the overlapping conversations into distinct speech streams. Lieutenant Kim is talking about his upcoming call with his old friend Danny Byrd. Ensign Kwan is complimenting Naomi Wildman on the cake. Commander Chakotay is discussing holodeck programs with Lieutenant Torres and Crewman Chell.
Her focus narrows in on Captain Janeway, who has gotten caught in a conversation with the Doctor. He is describing in detail his new design for the upcoming yearly physicals. Seven can see the ghost of Janeway’s reflection in the window, nodding along diplomatically, with a look of veiled boredom.
She tries to puzzle out what makes Janeway different from the rest of the crew. There are too many variables to narrow them down. She shifts her analysis slightly by comparing her relationship with Janeway to the other significant relationships in her life: the Doctor, Naomi Wildman, Icheb, Lt. Commander Tuvok, the rest of the senior officers, her engineering team, her astrometrics team. There is something present in her relationship with Janeway that isn’t present in any of these other relationships.
Seven glances over her shoulder, turning away from the reflection so that she can look at the real Captain Janeway. She has expertly shifted the topic so that she and the Doctor are now discussing ancient Earth plays.
Janeway’s poise, her presence, the richness of her voice and sharpness of her annunciations, the movements of her hands, the tilt of her chin, are captivating. Her beauty, Seven thinks.
Civilizations across the galaxy have widely different concepts of beauty, and even within a civilization, those concepts change radically with the passage of time. Yet in a great number of those civilizations, Seven is convinced that the captain would be considered beautiful. She has an attraction to her that must shine clearly across differing cultural perspectives.
Seven feels a jolt in her chest, as though for a moment her implants forgot how to properly regulate the functions of her heart. She whips her head back around, her gaze moving to the blurred stars, and then drifting to the floor.
It isn’t Janeway’s objective attractiveness that makes her and Seven’s relationship unique; Seven can perceive objectively appealing qualities in all of her friends. It is the fact that Seven, subjectively, considers her attractive.
Her fast heartbeat seems to impossibly speed up more, as well as grow stronger. She can feel it pulsing in her palms now. Even as sensation spreads through her body, she is analyzing it: her heartrate, body temperature, the hormones flushing through her system.
She cannot focus, cannot understand what this means, and suddenly the room is uncomfortably loud and hot, filled with bodies. Cutting across the mess hall swiftly but erratically, like somebody who is drunk, she turns away from everyone and seeks the loneliness of the cargo bay. Fortunately, nobody notices, or if they do, they don’t try to stop her.
There, Seven steps into her alcove and initiates a regeneration cycle, even though she doesn’t require one yet. She begins to think about Janeway again and, thinking of her, she falls into an unsettled state of rest.
-
After three days of thinking, Seven steps into Holodeck Two and the orange evening glow of da Vinci’s workshop.
The program has not been run in many months. Seven and the captain never visit it together anymore — they more often spend time playing Velocity, or go to the captain’s quarters to have a discussion, or astrometrics to work on some mathematical problem. Though even these typical activities they have not participated in together with much frequency the past few months.
The da Vinci hologram is absent. Seven moves silently around the cluttered space. The fire casts a dancing light across the tables and chairs. The far wall has three tall and ornate windows, one of which has been opened to let a cold night breeze in. Seven pushes the window open further and leans forward, gripping the window frame tightly. She closes her eyes, wishing the bite of the cold could quiet her brain.
Seven has spent these past three days mulling over her thoughts, allowing them to solidify in her mind. She has been occasionally distracted with thoughts of the captain for months, but she assumed that was just because she was worried about her.
With the crackles and pops of the fire behind her, and the sleepy sounds of Florence below, she searches her memory, trying to find a catalyst for her feelings, or at least a clear moment when they began.
Did it start when her cortical node was breaking down and Janeway invited her to visit her home, had said that she was proud of Seven’s growth, had been prepared to fight the Borg to keep Seven alive? Or earlier than that, when Tuvok bridged their minds so that the captain could enter Unimatrix Zero, and she had stood in front of Seven and seen her as Human? When Seven had felt the edges of the captain’s mind rubbing against her own? It was like being back in the Collective, but one composed of only two minds, hers and Janeway’s. Has she always felt this way about her? She doesn’t think so, but now she is unsure. When she tries to pull up her early memories of the captain, they are coloured by the obsessive, voracious emotions of her current state.
She wants to find a logic to it all, but she cannot. She remembers Janeway saying once that imagination is what allows for compassion. Imagining yourself in another person’s situation is what gives you the capacity to feel what they are feeling, which can propel you to empathize with them. But she does not think it is simply compassion she is feeling towards the captain. In fact, despite Seven’s growing skill in navigating social situations, the captain remains a puzzling figure to her. She struggles to understand what she is thinking and feeling. She can never predict with perfect accuracy how she will react.
Seven steps back from the window and approaches the fireplace. She does not like to sit, but she wants to observe the fire without curling her neck down, so she settles in the nearby chair. The flames are compelling, everchanging. It helps focus her thoughts.
This setting is where Seven’s imagination started to return, after nearly two decades of inactivity. She hopes it will provide her with some clarity, now that her imagination has come to life once more, and with a ravenous appetite.
All evidence points to Seven being attracted to Captain Janeway. She is not certain if it is romantic attraction, or sexual, or aesthetic, or something else. Humans frequently describe attraction as though it is one homogenous entity, though her research of Earth literature from the past several hundred years, as well as the literature of several other Alpha Quadrant societies, has led her to believe that there are many types of attraction, and that a person can feel all of them directed towards another person, or just one type, or some other unique mixture. For example, Vulcans describe shon-ha’lock as an overwhelming combination of romantic and sexual attraction, similar to the Human concept of ‘love at first sight’. She also knows from her research that different types of attachment correspond with different neurotransmitters in the brain.
Seven’s mind since Lieutenant Kim’s reception has been chaotic. She struggles to focus on her work, or even maintain a conversation.
She imagines things for the future, but not even things she necessarily desires, just things she can’t help but imagining. Returning to the Alpha Quadrant and getting a position at the Daystrom Institute alongside Janeway, where they spend all their time collaborating on science projects together. Visiting the captain’s grave decades from now and seeing that there’s a blank spot on the gravestone waiting for Seven’s name, so that their bodies will be buried together.
She recalls that Neelix has only one lung, donated to him by Kes — she has previously assimilated the information from the ship’s logs. Seven wishes that Janeway would lose her lungs so that Seven could donate one of hers. She does not understand why she would desire something like that. But it’s true, Seven wants a piece of herself inside Janeway, a piece of her keeping Janeway alive. She wants a part of Janeway to be Seven. She wants a permanent aching space inside her own chest because she gave that piece away to the captain.
She wants to assimilate Janeway, watch her Borg tubules break through skin and see the nanoprobes moving along the captain’s veins, glittering under her skin. Seven’s nanoprobes.
The two of them once stood in this workshop together, on a sunny day, and discussed the topic of imagination. She revisits Janeway’s words: It inspires ideas and solutions, and it can provide a great deal of pleasure. She lingers on the end of the sentence, replaying it in her mind in the crispness of the captain’s voice.
Seven grips her human hand with her Borg fingers, digging in until the press of the metal hurts. She thinks about the shape of the captain’s eyebrows. About mouthing at the captain’s jaw, her chin, her throat. Seven’s face is warm from the fire, but inside she is warm as well, with a heat that fills her chest and creeps down to every part of her body.
This ‘imagination’ that Janeway has been extolling the virtues of for the past four and a half years has suddenly sprung to life, with Janeway herself as the source. Seven wishes she could share this with the captain, knowing how excited she would be for her, but the idea of expressing these thoughts is so intolerable that it makes Seven feel the edges of nausea.
The next day, Seven sets a goal for herself to go 24 hours without thinking of the captain. After several unsuccessful attempts, she switches her goal to going the first hour of the day without thinking of her. But like running water returning after a drought and following the carved-out path of a riverbed, Seven’s thoughts inescapably go down the same route every morning. She is in the ordered, restorative peace of regeneration, and then the computer is announcing 0600 hours. Regeneration cycle complete, and as she steps off the dais, the image of Captain Janeway instantly springs to her mind.
The captain has left for her away mission now. It should be easier to put thoughts of her aside, and yet it is like she is still everywhere.
-
Seven marches into sickbay at 1204 hours. For a moment it appears there is nobody there, but then Seven turns to the Doctor’s office and spots him through the glass, sitting on one side of his desk with Naomi Wildman at the other.
Seven steps into the office.
The Doctor perks up and says, “Ah, Seven! Something I can help you with?”
“Yes. However, it can wait until you are finished.”
Naomi has swivelled around in her chair to look at her. “Hi, Seven.”
Seven nods to her. “Naomi Wildman. What are you studying today?”
“The history of medicine.” She doesn’t sound particularly enthusiastic.
“A very important subject,” the Doctor says, drawing the young girl’s attention back to him. “We were just discussing the bowhead whale and its contributions to finding a cure for cancer in the early 22nd century.”
“Bowhead whales have low cancer rates because they have enhanced DNA repair,” Naomi explains to Seven.
“Intriguing,” she says, and means it. “Perhaps you should bring up this topic with Icheb. He is very interested in cell mutation and DNA repair. I am sure he would be happy to help you understand the process more fully.”
Naomi bounces up from her chair, like she is about to rush off and ask Icheb about it right now, but the Doctor makes a tutting sound at the back of his throat. “I’m afraid we’re not finished our lesson yet, Miss Wildman.”
She settles back down sullenly.
Seven walks into the lab area of sickbay and examines the Doctor’s ongoing experiments. In the sterile environment, with her friends’ voices in the backdrop, she feels herself relax a little. She can hear the Doctor’s lesson continuing through the glass.
“Let’s play a game,” the Doctor says. “I will list a time period and a historical figure, and you have to say which medical breakthrough is credited to them.”
“Okay,” Naomi responds, sounding a little more engaged. Seven has observed many times in the past that the girl enjoys a challenge.
“Kes and I used to play this game,” the Doctor says. “One of us would name two symptoms, and the other would guess which ailment they were thinking of. Do you remember Kes?”
Through the slight distortion of the glass, Seven watches Naomi scrunch up her face a little in thought. “Not really.”
She can’t see the Doctor’s face clearly from this angle, but she hears the disappointment in his voice when he says, “I see. Well, you were very young when she left.”
Naomi is nearly six years old, though because she is half-Ktarian, she develops at an accelerated rate compared to typical Human children. It seems that this acceleration does not apply to the development of long-term memory capacity.
The two carry on with their lesson. Seven examines a sample of bacteria.
A few minutes later, they are finished, and Naomi jumps up and quickly collects her PADDs.
“Don’t forget to meet me at Holodeck One at 1500 hours,” the Doctor reminds her.
“Okay. Thank you, Doctor. Bye, Seven!”
After Naomi rushes out the doors, Seven steps back into the Doctor’s office.
“Naomi and I are on babysitting duty this afternoon,” he explains. “We’re taking Miral to see a short theatrical performance. I can’t allow my goddaughter’s cultural education to be left in the hands of Mr. Paris, after all.” He stands up. “How can I help you, Seven?”
“I wish for you to examine my cortical node.” Her throat is tight, and she can hear it in her voice, which irritates her.
The Doctor’s eyes alight with panic. “Is something wrong?”
“I am… not certain.”
He ushers her to the main room, grabs a tricorder, and begins scanning her. She straightens her spine and folds her arms behind her back.
“Hmm. I’m not seeing anything out of the ordinary. Can you describe your symptoms?”
She hesitates. “I am experiencing… obsessive thoughts. They are interfering with my ability to function. Several days have passed, but their severity has not diminished.”
“Thoughts about what?”
“Another individual aboard Voyager.”
The Doctor’s face shifts subtly. The confused furrow of his brows and panicked wideness of his eyes disappears. Seven is not an expert on humanoid facial expressions by any means, but she knows the Doctor well, and detects sympathy on his face. Annoyance grows inside her.
“Are these obsessive thoughts of a positive nature?” he asks.
“They are not pleasant to experience,” she says, clenching her back teeth.
“Yes, but are they directed towards an individual who you hold in a positive regard?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” He lowers the tricorder and folds it up. Her anger increases.
“It is not-” she starts, but does not know how to continue in a way that is accurate, without being too revealing. “It is more intense and disruptive than I believe is typical. I cannot work on a task for more than 26 minutes without being interrupted by thoughts of this individual. I was worried a defect in my cortical node may be exacerbating these symptoms.”
“Seven, the scans say that nothing is wrong with your cortical node. Fortunately.”
“Then scan again,” she demands.
He sighs and opens up the tricorder. “I’m seeing heightened activity in the ventral tegmental area,” he says. “But that’s typical under certain circumstances.”
“What circumstances?” she asks.
“As a reward response to a positive experience, for example, or following the use of mood-enhancing drugs. It’s also common in the early stages of infatuation.”
She takes a breath, her eyes darting away to fix on the far wall.
“Everyone finds love overwhelming, Seven,” the Doctor says, with the voice he uses when he wants to exhibit a soothing bedside manner. He does not use it often. “Especially when you’re unaccustomed to it.”
“I am aware of that,” Seven says, tensing her jaw muscles.
“You described your feelings as unusually strong and disruptive,” he says. “I know that you had a special connection with your friend Axum, from Unimatrix Zero. Are these overwhelming feelings similar to what you experienced then?”
“No. It is worse now.” Her feelings upon reuniting with Axum in the virtual Borg haven were vastly different to what she is going through now. That was anticipation, chasing the thrill of a previously lost memory, excitement more about the fact that she could feel than what she did actually feel. Everything was in a rush. She thought of him many times in the weeks after, but passing thoughts that drifted in and out of her mind infrequently, eventually turning into a longing for some kind, any kind, of connection. Perhaps her emotions regarding Axum were once this intense and persistent, when they first met. She cannot remember.
Despite having a similar amount of social experience to Seven, the Doctor occasionally exhibits an adeptness at recognizing emotional states in others that Seven does not possess. She remembers the swiftness with which he diagnosed her feelings for Axum: the dilation of her pupils, increased blood flow to her face. In addition to the physiological signs, he had probably been observing it in her behaviours and expressions. She suddenly feels worried that he will be able to guess the target of her emotions now.
“I no longer wish to discuss this,” she says.
“Then why did you come here?”
“To receive a medical diagnosis. Since you have informed me that my cortical node is not damaged, I can leave now.” She turns to go.
“Did you not also come to ask for advice from a friend?” the Doctor asks gently.
Her annoyance returns. She wants to disagree, but instead she mutters, “Perhaps.”
Instead of walking out the door, Seven moves to one of the computer consoles and starts to look through it aimlessly. She sees that the Doctor has recently logged data on several lab experiments without properly labelling them; she starts correcting it.
She senses the Doctor approaching her, peering over her shoulder at what she’s doing. He sighs again, and says, “Seven, please look at me for a moment.”
She does, reluctantly, and what she sees in his eyes surprises her. She expected sympathy, pity, perhaps even eagerness, like he was hoping she would share interesting gossip with him. What she sees instead is gentle interest, and sadness. Not for her, but for himself. She is reminded of his confession many months ago of his romantic interest in her, when he thought his holomatrix was about to destabilize and shimmer out of existence. She wonders if it was a mistake to come to him for help, but she does not know who else to turn to. The Doctor is her friend, someone who shares her skeptical outsider approach to humanity, and she wants his assistance.
“I can tell that this is difficult for you,” he says. “If my diagnosis is correct, then you are going through an extremely turbulent emotional process. But trust me when I say that if you pursue this, the rewards can be unimaginable.”
“Only if the feelings are reciprocated,” she grumbles, turning back to the computer console. The Doctor’s filing system seems to become more disorganized every time she visits sickbay.
“True,” he admits. “Do you think this person may reciprocate your feelings?”
“I am not certain. I have noticed no overt signs which would indicate so.”
“Well, you could always go for the old-fashioned approach and ask,” he says, a twinkle of humour returning to his eyes.
“I would rather not.”
“Ah, the suffer in silence approach. Seems rather… inefficient?”
She glares at him.
“Tell me, Seven.” He walks around to the other side of her console. “What do you picture for yourself in the future? Does this… individual feature in your vision?”
Immediately, and with confidence, Seven says, “I wish to continue seeing her every day, for the rest of my life.”
The Doctor takes that in. A quick jump of his eyebrows. “Well, in any case, this person is clearly important to you. Do you wish to change the nature of your relationship?”
“I do not know.”
“Well, if you decide you do, I’m afraid it will never change if you remain silent about your feelings forever.” He taps his chin, begins to pace. His eyes narrow. He looks at her and says, "Is there a particular reason why you came to me for advice on this matter?"
"I wished for a medical diagnosis.”
He gives her a condescending smile. “I hardly think you needed my medical expertise to come to these conclusions. If you wanted to discuss this with a trusted colleague, you could have gone to someone with more practical experience in romance, such as Commander Tuvok. Or the captain.”
“They are both on an away mission.”
“They return in three days. Surely such an important discussion is worth the wait?”
She rolls her shoulders, apprehensive. “Romance and its related emotions are not openly discussed in Vulcan society. I did not wish to make Commander Tuvok uncomfortable.” If she had gone to Tuvok, he likely would have tried to help her intellectually deconstruct her present emotions in an effort to eliminate them. Although Seven does not enjoy her current condition, she is also reluctant to lose these feelings. They connect her to Janeway.
“What about the captain?” the Doctor asks again.
“Captain Janeway would be… unsuitable for this discussion.”
“Why?”
“I chose to come to you,” she says irritably. “We are friends.”
“We are, and I am honoured that you came to me for help, but it seems unusual that you would ask me questions about love when I hardly have more experience than you in the matter.”
“I did not say anything about love,” she argues.
“Wouldn’t it be preferable to go to a more reliable source for this kind of advice?” he continues.
“You are reliable enough.”
“What glowing praise.” He takes a step forward, puts a hand on her shoulder. “Would you like to tell me who it is who has captured your interest?”
“No,” she says, her voice accidentally coming out too loudly. “Besides, you have always been adamant in educating me before, no matter how ‘inexperienced’ you were.”
He blinks, his mood seeming to deflate. But he presses on. “Shall I try to guess?”
Seven’s cheeks feel hot. “This is not a game!” She is embarrassed, and angry, and frustrated by her inability to resolve this problem herself. She looks back down at the computer screen, but makes no move to continue typing.
“I’m not trying to treat it as a game,” the Doctor assures her. “I simply thought that if you were reluctant to talk about it, it might be easier for you if I were to guess.”
She closes her eyes. She does not want to hear him pick apart her psyche and attempt to make deductions about her life.
“It is Captain Janeway,” she says quietly. Her anger is suddenly gone. She simply feels defeated.
There is a long pause. Then she hears the Doctor ask, “How long have you felt this way?”
“I don’t know.” She opens her eyes and looks at him. “Since Unimatrix Zero, I have felt like my life has been lacking certain qualities. Eight months ago, I began running social experiments in the holodeck in order to explore aspects of my humanity I thought were underdeveloped. I wanted to feel the way I felt in Unimatrix Zero.”
She breathes shakily before continuing. Her throat feels raw. “But I grew uncomfortable spending so much time with the imaginary crew, and I began to confuse my emotions for them with my emotions for Voyager’s real crew. I stopped the experiment after only three sessions. That is when I first considered revisiting the lessons in dating that we practised several years ago. The last few months, I have been so busy that I have not thought about it again until recently, when I became aware of my feelings regarding the captain.”
“The moment of realization,” the Doctor says wryly. “They call that sort of thing anagnorisis in the old Greek plays.” He frowns. “Though come to think of it, the term was mainly used in tragedies.”
“That is not helpful.”
“Perhaps epiphany is a better word,” he amends. “A moment of divine clarity.”
“It did not feel divine,” she says. “I am damaged. My ability to function has been impaired.”
“You’re not damaged,” he argues passionately. “Romantic attraction is perfectly natural.”
Whether natural or not, it certainly does not feel good. Seven once told Harry Kim that love was like a disease, before apologizing to him for her choice of analogy. Now, though, she believes she was right in the first place. This is a malady interfering with her day-to-day functioning. She feels physically sick from it. It seems like it will never end.
“Perhaps our lessons in dating would have gone better if I had encouraged you to include female crewmembers on your list of candidates. I’m sorry I didn’t think to.” His eyebrows raise in excitement. “What if I helped you create a new and improved list of potential partners?”
Seven frowns at him. “I do not desire a new list. I have just stated who I want. It is the captain.”
“That may be difficult, Seven. You know how resolute she is when it comes to ship protocols.” He huffs out a sigh. “As much as I have tried to convince her to take care of her wellbeing, Captain Janeway is determined to remain a solitary figure.”
“There is no such protocol prohibiting Starfleet captains from pursuing romantic relationships,” Seven says. “It is merely discouraged in regards to individuals directly under the captain’s command. Furthermore, I am not a member of Starfleet, nor do I intend to become one.”
“I don’t mean to discourage you, Seven. I’m just trying to be realistic.”
“I know.” She folds her hands neatly behind her back, trying to regain her composure. “What is your prognosis for my condition?”
The Doctor begins to pace across the room again, gathering his thoughts.
“This obsessive infatuation typically lasts only a few months. After that time, it will likely either fade or, if a relationship has been initiated, it can grow into a deeper form of connection. Excessive time spent together can encourage the production of oxytocin, which is associated with bonding, empathy, and stress reduction. Some refer to it as the ‘love hormone’.”
“So if I do not pursue these emotions,” Seven says, “they will eventually go away?”
“Eventually, yes. I can’t give you a timeline for when, but their intensity will certainly decrease.” His eyebrows knit with concern. “I don’t know what advice to give you, Seven. Deepening your bonds with other people is an important step in your development, and I’m proud of you for this achievement. But the captain is an… unfortunate first object of your affections. I’m worried about you getting hurt.”
“I suppose I will have to consider my options,” she says. “I will inform you when I have come to a decision.”
He smiles. “I look forward to it. And in the meantime, a healthy dose of daydreaming never hurt anyone. In fact, it can be very enriching. Within reason, of course.” A haunted grimace passes over his face.
She takes a couple of slow breaths. She feels calmer now, and more focused.
“Thank you for your assistance, Doctor.” She walks to the doors of sickbay, then pauses. “You will keep the contents of this conversation private.”
“I know, I know. Or you’ll assimilate my program.”
“Precisely. I also encourage you to pay more attention to your filing system. It has become disorganized since I last improved it.”
After the end of her shift, Seven returns to Cargo Bay Two and reviews every occurrence of anagnorisis, epiphany, and related phenomena of sudden realization in the database. A memory sparks, of a brief discussion Seven and the captain once had about Archimedes and his eureka moment of epiphany, when he discovered the displacement of fluid while having a bath. Although Janeway has always suspected the anecdote to be fictional, she said she still finds the concept of Archimedes’ scientific clarity very inspiring.
One recurring element Seven finds in her research of the phenomenon is clarity, and not only that, but conviction of clarity. Along with sudden understanding comes a certainty that the belief must be true, and is not leading the thinker astray.
Seven concludes that her own realization cannot be false.
-
With her thoughts marginally clearer and her feelings, for the time being, under control, Seven deliberates on how best to proceed.
She outlines two courses of action she could take.
1) Seven of Nine keeps her thoughts and feelings to herself, and waits for the intensity of her attraction to fade.
2) Seven of Nine informs Captain Janeway of her feelings, which leads to the outcome of either
a. The captain does reciprocate these feelings
b. The captain does not reciprocate these feelings
Of 2a and 2b, both could lead to the following events:
i) Captain Janeway does not react negatively to this knowledge, but chooses not to pursue Seven of Nine romantically, and the two of them remain friends.
ii) Captain Janeway does react negatively to this knowledge, and chooses not to pursue Seven of Nine romantically, and their friendship is either damaged or discontinues altogether.
Option 2a — Seven informing the captain of her romantic interest, and the captain admitting that she reciprocates — is the only possibility that could lead to the following outcome:
iii) Captain Janeway agrees to change the parameters of her relationship with Seven of Nine, and the two become romantically involved.
Both courses of action could lead to their friendship remaining as it is, with the first option — Seven remaining silent about her feelings — being the most likely to elicit this outcome. However, speaking to the captain is the only course which could lead to what Seven now admits is her desired outcome.
Seven wants a romantic relationship with Captain Janeway.
The logical next step is to determine whether there is a possibility that Captain Janeway returns her feelings. It would be fruitless to reveal her own attraction to the captain and threaten their friendship only to discover that there was never any possibility of the captain returning her affections. If she can eliminate the possibility of 2b in her calculations, it will increase the likelihood of getting what she wants.
Seven is uncertain how to acquire the necessary data. If she takes her usual direct approach with the captain and inquires whether she finds Seven attractive, Janeway will likely guess immediately what Seven’s intentions are. She has become more adept at subterfuge as she regains her humanity, but no matter what she does, the captain always seems to be able to read her as though her thoughts and intentions are transparent.
Seven is a scientist. She needs data in order to proceed with this project, and she will devise some way of acquiring it.