Denial.
She was human wrapped in armor. Flesh infused with machine.
The pain of silence deafened Seven of Nine, formally a drone from Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One and the absence of voices pushed her to the precipice of madness.
Captain Kathryn Janeway, the woman her pulled her from a comfortable existence and thrust her into this nightmare stared intently at the keypad in front of her as her nimble fingers typed in the authorization code required to access the inside of the cell.
If only glares could kill, Seven thought to herself, Kathryn Janeway would be dead a thousand times over.
"What are you doing?" She snarled, her fists tightening at her sides. She could feel the muscles in her arms tighten. It felt…wrong. She felt damaged.
Janeway stopped, her eyes staring intensely at the drone before replying, "I'm coming in."
Seven replied without hesitation.
"I'll kill you."
The Captain's eyes were calculating. Her mind was analyzing the risk, contemplating whether Seven of Nine would do as she had threatened.
With the tiniest hardening of her jaw, Janeway visibly came to a decision, staring directly into the eyes of Seven of Nine who up until a few hours ago had been a thoughtless and ruthless Borg Drone.
"I don't think you will."
And with those simple words she was inside, holding out a PADD to the drone and expecting her to overcome the nanoprobes swimming through her veins and accept her humanity.
Seven of Nine stared. This woman was small and aged. She was far from perfect. Her brown hair was tied into a severe knot behind her head and she had small stress lines branching out from the corner of her eyes. She carried a heavy burden, Seven could see it in the way she forced her shoulders to stand tall. She was a woman carrying guilt, anxiety and a dozen other emotions.
If she were to go swimming, Seven was sure she would drown under the weight.
"The weight of the world." Seven said, interrupting Janeway's explanation of how she found Seven of Nine's original identity, Annika Hanson.
The Captain stuttered to a halt and looked at her with wide, confused eyes.
"What?"
Seven pulled the memory from deep within her stores.
"It is an Earth saying is it not?" She asked, hands behind her back with a raised eyebrow, "For someone with much responsibility?"
Janeway, still confused, nodded.
"Yes, it's something that humans tend to say when someone is stressed."
Seven nodded, understanding. She reached out a hand tentatively, her fingers gently touching the lines under the Captain's eyes.
"You carry your world."
Janeway, deprived of love and touch for so many years, felt her eyes flutter involuntarily shut at the gentle touch. As Seven's mechanical fingers gently touched the cool, pinkish skin, there was an audible snap.
Kathryn Janeway's eyes were open in timeless surprise as her body slid to the floor of the cell. Seven's hand released her grip on the Captain's neck as the weight intensified on her fingers and she watched the form hit the ground with a satisfying thump.
"You are weak." She said calmly as alarms blared within the brig and officers surrounded her, shouting.
For a second, with the chaos that had overcome the bridge, Seven felt as if she were back in the collective.
She could imagine the Borg Queen standing in front of her, a gentle, loving smile on her face as she looked at her faithful drone.
You have done well, Seven Of Nine. Now it's time to come home.
The officer, Chakotay stood before her, his eyes cold as his finger pulled on the trigger of his weapon.
In flash of light, Seven of Nine, formally of Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One, was gone.