Chapter Two: Lessons

Seven of Nine glanced up as she heard the cargo bay doors open, a small feeling of warmth curling her lips into a faint smile as she took note of the person visiting her.

"Naomi Wildman." She looked down at the half-Katarian child with genuine affection. "It is early. Why are you not taking your lessons?"

"Mom pulled extra duty and the Doctor is busy re-calibrating his matrix." The child practically beamed. "So I got the day off. How are you?"

"I am very busy."

"Oh." Naomi's smile faded immediately. "Do you want me to leave?"

Seven studied her face, thinking that her work would be a great deal easier with the child not present. "That is not necessary." She said gently. "You are welcome here."

Naomi relaxed considerably. "Thanks. What are you doing?"

"I am attempting to run a simulation using an alternative variance to the standard slipstream velocity."

"Oh." She glanced at the screen. "Can I help?"

"I do not believe so. However, you may reorganize the data PADDs in that storage container and return them to engineering. B'Elanna Torres has requested their return and I have, as of yet, been unable to accommodate her."

"Sure!" Naomi's chest swelled proudly. "You can count on me!"

"Thank you, Naomi Wildman."

The young girl moved to the next console and began rearranging the contents of the container, glancing at the Borg every so often before finally speaking. "Uh, Seven…can I ask you something?"

"You may."

"Why do you always call me 'Naomi Wildman'?"

Seven glanced at her, a slightly confused look on her features. "Is that not your proper designation?"

"Well…yes… it is." She smiled. "But I meant, why don't you just call me Naomi? And Lieutenant Torres… why don't you call her B'Elanna?"

"I do not see the relevance of your question."

"Well, you and I are friends…aren't we?"

Seven found herself strangely touched by the note of panic that had crept into the child's voice. "Yes. We are friends."

Naomi sighed with relief. "And are you friends with Lieutenant Torres?"

The ex-drone paused, unsure of how to answer that question, but Naomi seemed not to notice.

"When you're friends with people, you're supposed to call them by their first name."

"Why?"

"Because!" Naomi rolled her eyes. "You're closer to them then ordinary people. It's ok to show it."

"Ordinary people?" Seven turned to give the young girl her full attention. "So when an individual becomes a 'friend' that makes them extraordinary as well? Explain."

"Well, Mom says there are four types of people that you can know. There are your enemies…you don't want very many of those."

"I would think not." Seven agreed seriously.

"Then there are acquaintances. People you don't really know that well, but that you are aware of. Like the people you work with."

"I see."

"Then, there are your friends. The people that you socialize with. The ones you care about." Naomi, who had been ticking off the categories on the fingers of her left hand, stopped abruptly. "This is where I think Mom forgot a type."

"Which would be?" Seven asked patiently.

"Best Friends."

"Best friends?" She repeated slowly. "I was unaware that friendship was an area to be rated."

"No." Naomi giggled. "A best friend is someone that you especially care for. Someone that you can confide in or that you feel very close to." She became serious. "Someone you would consider family."

"Ahh." Seven looked at her closely. "Do you have a…'best friend'?"

The young girl walked over to her, encircling the Borg's waist with her slender arms. "You are my best friend."

"I see." Seven stood stiffly, unsure what her reaction was supposed to be. "What are you doing?"

"I'm hugging you."

"Hugging me?"

"It's a form of affection Seven." Naomi looked up at her but didn't let go. "When you care for someone, it's all right to touch them. To show them that you care. That's why I'm hugging you."

"To show me that you care?"

"Yes."

"I…care also." Seven knelt before the child and awkwardly returned the embrace, being careful in the placement of her Borg-enhanced left arm. "Is there more to this 'hugging'?"

Naomi laughed. "No, this is it."

"All right." She released the girl and straightened. "What is the final category?"

"Well…" Naomi wrinkled her nose. "Mom said she tell me more about that type when I get older."

"Explain."

"The last category is for the people that you love. As friends…but more than that, too."

"Ahh." Seven nodded. "You are talking about mates."

"Mates?"

"Partners…in copulation?" Seven wondered vaguely if she should be discussing this topic with the child. Especially since she didn't know that much about it herself.

"I think the word Mom used was 'lovers'. And it's more than just that part of it, Seven." Her face flushed slightly. "There's all those icky, googly-eyed feelings too."

"Googly-eyed?" Seven quirked on eyebrow. "Is that the actual terminology?"

"Yeah. You know…like when Lt. Torres and Lt. Paris are in the mess hall together sometimes. They hold hands and look at each other with the silliest expressions on their faces. That's love."

"It seems an inefficient activity."

But Naomi only shrugged. "Some people like it. My Mom says I'll like to too… when I get older."

Seven nodded and turned back to her work. "Thank you for the information, Naomi Wild-" She stopped herself. "Naomi."

"Anytime." Her lips curled into bright smile. "I'm done. I'll run these over to Lieutenant Torres now."

"Thank you." Seven watched her friend struggle against the weight of the container until she was out the door.

Sometimes, she thought, lessons came from unusual places. Naomi had given her much to think about.

Which she would do later, when she was done with her projections.

With a presence of will that would make most Starfleet personnel green with envy, she stilled her curiosity and returned to her work

Captain Janeway stood before the windows in her ready room, staring quietly out at the passing stars, her thoughts a million sectors away. When her door chimed, she responded automatically, not bothering to turn her attention away from view before her. "Come."

"Captain?"

Recognizing her First Officer before he even spoke, she slid her command mask into place and turned to greet him. "Good morning, Chakotay."

At six feet tall, with dark hair and eyes, not to mention a robust physique, Chakotay was an impressive figure of a man. His Native American blood had resulted in a deeply tanned complexion, and the tribal tattoo over his left eye gave him an air of mystery that added greatly to his appeal.

At least she thought so. At one time, she had even indulged in the possibility of a relationship with him. One that she was now convinced would never have been viable. He was just too nice for her, too giving and attentive to bring any sort of balance to her life.

"Good Morning." Chakotay responded cheerfully before noting the dark circles beneath her eyes. "Didn't you call a walking inspection of the Gamma shift last night?"

"I did. Why?"

"I guess I just didn't expect you to be in quite this early." He said carefully. "That's a long inspection."

"And one which was passed with flying colors!" She smiled. "Be sure to log that in the personnel files, would you?"

"Of course." He smiled back at her. "How much sleep have you had?"

"Not much." She sighed. "I think it's just too quiet for me to relax completely."

"You'd prefer that we were under attack?"

Janeway laughed. "At least then we'd know what to expect." She looked out at the stars again. "How long have we been passing through this region?"

"Eight days."

"And how long since we've encountered any type of intelligent species?"

"Eight days." Chakotay moved to stand beside her.

"I can't help feeling like it's just too easy."

"The calm before the storm?"

She nodded.

"Maybe there is no storm. Maybe this region is exactly what it appears to be: An area of space on the verge of evolution. Not every sector of the Delta Quadrant can be harboring belligerent aliens."

"Perhaps." Janeway replicated herself a cup of coffee before returning to her desk. "But we're the aliens here, aren't we Chakotay. We are the ones who don't belong."

Suddenly, he understood where this was coming from…and where it might be going. "Maybe you're right." He said quietly. "Maybe we don't belong here in the Delta Quadrant. But that doesn't mean that we're fair game for any species that might want to take a few pot shots at us." He smiled reassuringly. "Besides, we're not going to be here forever. When Captain Kathryn Janeway sets her mind, and heart, on something… I have no doubt as to what the outcome will be."

Janeway glanced at him sharply. "Meaning?"

"Meaning you will get us home." He wondered briefly at her response and then dismissed it. "You've brought us thirty five thousand light years in less than a decade. You never let anything get in your way. Not the Kazon, not the Hirogen, not even the Borg. Our faith in you is something you never have to question."

Despite herself, Janeway felt warmed by his response. His initial remarks had made her wonder how lax she had become in hiding certain of her emotions. But he had merely been commenting on her efforts to return them to the Alpha Quadrant.

Besides,didn't you decide that there's nothing else to comment on?

"Thank you." She said quietly.

"Thank you." He responded, allowing the emotion he felt to show plainly on his face.

Nodding, Janeway activated her console. "I am going to work on the departmental reports. Keep our current heading. Inform me if our situation changes. Dismissed."

"Aye, Captain."

When he was gone, she stared idly after him. It was the faith he spoke of that kept her going every day. Just as she knew that same faith set her apart from those she cared for, creating a chasm between them that she could never cross.

What was it her Grandmother had said to her once?

That faith could be its own sort of curse? Both to those who carried it, and the ones they carried it for.

Twin doors slid open silently, admitting a tall, auburn haired woman into the dark confines of cargo bay two. For a moment, she stopped, looking towards the green glow of the Borg regeneration alcoves lining one wall. None of them were occupied so she stepped in further, smiling when she finally caught sight of Seven of Nine, working at her terminal.

"Hello, Seven."

The beautiful ex-drone looked up, her sky blue eyes assessing the woman before her with cool detachment. "Ensign Mahr," Her head tilted slightly to one side as she searched her memory for an appropriate greeting. "How are you this…afternoon?" Her full, bow-like lips stumbled slightly as she calculated the time of day in her head.

Ensign Mahr smiled, causing the light brown markings on the sides of her face to shift slightly as her cheeks dimpled in delight. "I'm good, Seven." She said softly, moving closer to lean against the Borg's computer terminal. "How are you?"

"I am functioning at acceptable levels." Seven replied, looking at the woman expectantly. When the Trill neither spoke, nor moved away, Seven felt her typical impatience vying to overcome her newly acquired manners. "Ensign Mahr? Is there something further you require?"

"Call me Lili."

"For what purpose?" Seven asked.

The Trill laughed. "It's my first name, Seven."

"Incorrect." The Borg gave the smaller woman a slightly odd look. The Doctor would say it was impolite to correct someone in a social situation, but Seven found herself concerned that the Ensign did not seem to know her own name. "Your designation is Alilianna Mahr. You are a member of Species 1499-B, a 'joined' Trill. Your biological and technological distinctiveness was added to our own."

"What?" The Ensign's face went pale. "When?"

"Over a decade ago." Seven continued flatly as she proceeded to enter data into her console, unaware of the coldness in her voice, or the unease that it caused. "A single long range exploration ship consisting of 27 members of Species 1499-A and 4 members of Species 1499-B. We were, at first, unaware of the differences between the joined, and unjoined members of your species, thereby forcing us to append your designation to account for both." She glanced up, the Borg implant over her left eye rising slightly. "Species 1499-B has proven to be more valuable, however, do to your considerable capacity for data storage. But the knowledge gained from both was highly beneficial."

Lili stared at her, her mouth slightly agape. She knew that Seven was not as socially adept as the rest of the crew, but her horrifying remarks, especially the last which had been offered as some sort of compliment, were more than she could take. "I'm glad we could be of service." She said coldly.

Seven looked at her closely, realizing that the Ensign's mood had changed considerably. "Indeed." She nodded slightly and turned back to her work, but not before seeing the woman shake her head slightly, as though to clear it.

"Lili is an abbreviation of my first name Seven." She smiled stiffly. "Alilianna…Lili…get it?" She ran her fingers through her hair. "Listen, Seven… I like you…so I'm going to tell you something that I think maybe someone should have told you a long time ago."

The Borg turned slightly, giving the smaller woman her full attention.

"You used to be Borg…"

"That is correct, I am Borg." Seven waited expectantly for the crewman to turn and walk away, as most did when her past was laid out for discussion. She was slightly surprised when Lili did not leave. Instead, the young woman merely smiled, waving her hand in the air.

"That's not what I meant, Seven. What I mean to say is that you were Borg. You're not any longer. Now you're Human. And being Human means having friends. Otherwise you are looking at a very lonely existence."

The Borg lowered her eyes somewhat. "I am familiar with that type of existence."

The Ensign swallowed, finally understanding how hard a time Seven was having with her newfound Humanity. "Well… I think maybe people might not be so hesitant to spend time with you if you didn't offer them…assimilation information…about their friends and family."

Seven's eyes widened slightly as she listened. "An interesting hypothesis. One that I will consider more thoroughly at another time." she glanced at Lili's face, noting analytically that the young woman had beautiful, dark green eyes that were very clear. In addition to that, her auburn-red haired created a soft frame around her light Trill markings. All in all, Ensign Mahr was quite aesthetically pleasing. And, if her earlier conversation with Naomi had been correct, she was extending an offer of friendship, something Seven had not experienced that often in the past. "Thank you for the information, Ens…Lili."

The Trill smiled at her again. Not a tight, forced smile as the prior one had been, but a full out grin that caused dimples to appear in each of her cheeks and a sparkle to glow in her eyes. "You are very welcome, Seven." The Ensign leaned in a little closer, partially obscuring the display the Borg was working on. "But…I was wondering…since I have provided you with this very useful piece of information, maybe you could…. do something for me?"

Seven felt a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. Something dark, and very lonely. This is disappointment, she thought to herself. I am disappointed that her help is offered as a debt I must repay.When she looked at the Trill again, her face was composed, her eyes shuttered. "What do you require?"

Lili noticed the change but decided she had come too far to stop now. "A little of your time," She smiled wanly. "Your company, some conversation…" She swallowed hard at the Borg's impassive stare. "Maybe we could get a night cap."

Seven looked confused. "I do not require a nocturnal head dress at this time."

"No…" The Ensign laughed lightly. "That's not what I meant." She decided on the direct approach, thinking she should have tried that to begin with. "Seven…I'm…I'm…asking you out. I am requesting that you spend a little time with me… on a social level?" She clarified when the Borg still did not respond.

"Curious." Seven studied her closely.

"What?" Lili stood up, self consciously straightening her uniform. "What?"

"Ensign Mahr, you are exhibiting emotional and physical characteristics I have, as of yet, only witnessed when in the company of male members of the crew."

"What?" She repeated weakly, starting to feel like a parrot.

Seven picked up a tricorder and held it in front of the flustered Trill. "Increased heart rate, increased respiration, rapid pupil dilation when your eyes focus on certain areas of my body…" She snapped the tricorder shut. "Ensign Mahr, are these symptoms a result of your Trill physiology?"

Lili opened her mouth…then shut it again, swallowing hard against the panic at the back of her throat. She considered fleeing…briefly, until she looked into the very curious, and very beautiful, blue eyes watching her intently. "Are you asking me if I'm attracted to you because one of my past hosts may have been male?"

"Yes."

The Ensign grinned. "Good question." She said with admiration. "Honestly?"

"Is there a purpose, or a use, in being dishonest?"

"No…No I suppose not." The Trill was astounded at the amount of affection she was feeling for the ex-drone. All of her friends, and even a few of her adversaries, had warned her that this would probably not be a good idea.

Screw 'em!

"I guess I have been the victim of a symbiotic 'crush' once or twice. But even as I felt the emotions my symbiont was generating, I knew they weren't mine, and therefore never acted on them." She flushed slightly. "At this moment, I would have to say that the effect you are having on my…'physiology'…is definitely a joint effort."

Seven took a few moments to process this information, finally deciding that the Trill was being sincere in the request for her company. "Very well." She nodded slightly. "I am off duty at 2100 hours."

The smile she received could have rivaled the brilliance of a supernova. "Great! I'm done in Biometrics at 2100 as well. Why don't we keep it simple this time out…dinner? Will you meet me in the mess hall at 2200?"

"That would be acceptable."

"See you then." Lili winked at her before strolling happily out of the bay.

Seven watched her go, intrigued by the emotion she knew was involved in the singular closing of the Trill's ocular cavity.

This was turning in to quite an instructional afternoon.