10. Shattered
In all his thirteen months of activation, the Doctor had never experienced a day like this. Here was Commander Chakotay, having dropped in from five years in the future in an alarming state of temporal flux (i. e. with the stomach of an eleven-year-old boy, the kidneys of an eighty-year-old man, and the rest of his organs anywhere in between). After repairing the damage with a chronoton serum which, anywhere but the Delta Quadrant, would have earned him the Daystrom Award, the Doctor found himself struggling to pay attention as Chakotay outlined his very dangerous plan for recovering the ship.
"First, I need to convince the Captain we're not enemies," said the Commander, pocketing a hypospray of chronoton serum. "Can't do this without her, she knows the ship better than anyone. Second, we have to get to Astrometrics and find Seven - "
"Astrometrics? And seven of what? Commander, are you absolutely sure you're on the right ship?"
"It's a future installation, Doctor. They have temporal sensors that should be able to tell us just how many time periods are on this ship. And Seven of Nine is a person, a Borg crewmember, to be exact. What she doesn't know about spatial and temporal anomalies isn't worth knowing."
The Doctor was tempted to whip out his tricorder and scan the Commander's brain, or else his own auditory subroutines.
"Did you say - ? Good grief, Commander, you don't mean to tell me that in your time, we have the Borg on our ship!"
Chakotay, drat him, looked more amused than concerned. "Only two. A young woman and a teenage boy, both severed from the Collective and completely loyal to the crew. You can blame yourself as much as the Captain, since in my time, you and Seven are pretty close."
Something about the Commander's smile intrigued the Doctor; he had never been "close" to anyone, with the exception of his young friend Kes and the beautiful Denara.
"How close?" he asked.
"I don't know, Doctor," with a shrug. "I'm not exactly in your confidence. All I know is that you give her social lessons, to help her adjust to individuality. And the two of you make excellent singing partners."
"Now that's ridiculous," scoffed the Doctor. "I wasn't programmed to sing. I'm a doctor, not a diva. And if anyone on this ship is qualified to give social lessons, well … I'm hardly the best candidate."
Not according to Paris, Torres and Kim, anyway. Their jokes at his expense continued to rankle, even though Kes told him his bedside manner was improving splendidly. He couldn't very well see himself in the role Chakotay described.
"You'd be surprised how much we change," said the Commander. "You included. Now, much as I'd like to stay and chat, I still have a temporal anomaly to fix. Take care, Doctor. See you in the future – I hope."
He nodded goodbye and turned away; just before he reached the doors, the Doctor scurried after him. His curiosity wouldn't let him rest.
"Commander, wait!"
"Yes, Doctor?"
"What does she look like? Seven of Nine?"
The faintest hint of exasperation showed in the upward motion of Chakotay's eyes.
"She's a white Human. Tall, blonde and stunningly beautiful. Are you satisfied, Doctor?"
"Now, really, Commander, I don't believe this is a joking matter!" he called plaintively through the closing doors.
A Borg woman, a valued crewmember, who relied on him to help her become an individual. A duet partner. A tall, blonde and stunningly beautiful creature who was "close" to him.
If it wasn't a joke, it was certainly too good to be true.
=/\=
At a later point in his mission, Chakotay watched the drone Seven of Nine with barely concealed distaste. It was not so much the cybernetic armor, bald head, missing eye and pallid skin as the way she talked.
"If I were to assimilate you and the Captain into a small Borg Collective," Seven said, "You could work together much more efficiently."
He could sense Kathryn's revulsion as she stood next to him and sent her a calming look. We need her. Relax.
"Sorry," said Kathryn, her Indiana drawl coming through with the irony in her voice. "I prefer my own plan, thanks."
Chakotay quite agreed. Watching the two women, it was hard to believe they were best friends in his time. Hard to believe this was the same Seven who would show respect at John Kelly's funeral; care for Naomi and the Borg children as if they were her own; kiss the Doctor in public and defend him like a lioness during the Jetal tragedy.
He remembered the Doctor's past self, sniping about being underappreciated and 'imprisoned' in Sickbay. He'd forgotten how annoying their EMH used to be before Seven came along to put him in his place. Likewise, without the Doctor's long hours with her in the holodeck, the ex-Borg would never have warmed and softened to the degree she had. He remembered them in his own timeframe: standing together in a corner on social occasions, no doubt making wry scientific observations about the rest of the crew. Two more reasons, then, in his long list of urgent reasons to get Voyager back into one timeframe: their lovably eccentric cyber-pair, intolerable without each other.