TITLE: "Memory" Part 2 of 4
AUTHOR: Layla V.
CONTACT: v_layla@hotmail.com
WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/chakotayseven
ARCHIVING: Sure. Just let me know where.
FANDOM: Star Trek Voyager
PAIRING: Chakotay/Seven
RATING: PG-13.
CODES: Slightly A/U. Angst. H/c.
SUMMARY: What if the Rumaran virus meant to erase Kellin's
memories from every mind on Voyager wasn't as effective as
we'd thought at first?
DISCLAIMER: All characters owned by Paramount. I am merely
playing with them. No copyright infringement is intended.
NOTES: Major thanks to Sorcha for her invaluable suggestions
and betaing. Also thanks to Kristin for her encouragement
without which I could never have been able to finish this.
:)

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This Story won *First Place* in the Bowl First Kiss contest!
http://www.geocities.com/the_fresh_bowl/contest.html
========^*^========^*^=========





"Now that's a sight for my sore aching eyes."

Tom Paris sighs happily in the pilot's seat by my side, his
eyes riveted to the main viewport in front of us.

I, sitting in the co-pilot seat of Davies, steal a look at
his rapturous expression from the corner of my eye and shake
my head knowingly.

The sense of marvel and excitement filling the Lieutenant's
eyes is one that I can share. As a fellow pilot, I
understand that nothing can compare to the sheer excitement
that comes with taking the helm at one of these small
beautiful ships. The sheer exultation of flying into
virtually unknown territory, the thrill of exploring, and
the freedom that comes with it---it's all an exquisitely
privileged experience; one I am grateful to be a part of.

The easy familiarity that comes with this feeling almost
makes me forget all my confusion and worries of the last few
days, as if they've been blissfully left behind in a past
life. As if they were all part of a bad dream, and should
cause no more confusion than the slight disorientation which
descends for a few dizzying moments upon waking up from one.

But things are never that simple and not everyone can be as
easily impressed by the mere joy of gazing out a
shuttlecraft's viewport window, as us small-minded
individuals can.

"You find a Type 3 asteroid field dense with severe
gravitational disturbances leading to a planet's
stratosphere which is filled with heavy ionic activity---an
appealing sight!" The slightly affronted observation comes
from the science station behind us.

There's a slight pause during which I can't help but feel
the corners of my mouth twitch at the incredulity in her
tone of voice. She can't help it, I know. I also know that
she's trying to understand Paris's perspective, trying to
dissect the data available to her as efficiently as
possible. But its not going to work. She doesn't have the
correct frame of reference.

The Borg obviously never assimilated a sense of wonder.

As Paris rolls his eyes and comes back with a drawn out,
drawled out rejoinder for our reluctant ex-Borg colleague,
the feeling that I might be judging Seven a little too
harshly in this instance pricks at my conscience.

After all, if I am to be completely honest with myself, she
isn't the same Borg Drone we liberated from the Collective a
year ago. She has changed, is still changing, learning and
picking up things along her decidedly laborious journey of
discovering humanity for the first time in her adult life.

I always knew Seven---no matter how sure Kathryn was of her
success---was going to be a difficult assignment for all of
us. Always knew it was going to be hard, if not impossible,
for the vulnerable young woman who was emerging from under
all those Borg implants to fully embrace her humanity.

I never really expected her to change overnight.

I slightly tilt my seat sideways to glance back at her, as
she answers Tom's good-intentioned counters with her own,
almost painfully precise responses, and silently berate
myself for lying so blatantly to my own heart.

It's not that I never expected her to change *overnight*.

The thing is I never expected her to change, period.

The fact that she *has* changed, that she *has* surpassed my
obvious doubts, proved wrong my secret fears, and gone
beyond any reluctant hopes that I may have held regarding
her, has me thoroughly and truly confounded.

Seven of Nine is an enigma, she always has been, and even
daring to attempt to seek out all her secrets, and to solve
the puzzling contradictions within her personality feels to
be a Herculean task indeed.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Seven." Paris is
still at it, patiently trying to convert her way of thinking
even though she now seems to be adamantly, almost
stubbornly, holding her ground. "Look at the asteroid belt,
its absolutely *breathtaking*," he gushes "And the
navigational challenge the gravitational pull, not to
mention the ion storms in the atmosphere, will present our
descent sequence---should be any capable pilot's idea of a
really, really fun ride."

I stoically keep my smile hidden from view.

He's right about the challenge part at least. When Voyager
had reached the system we'd laid a course for three days
ago, our sensor readings had been a little chaotic, if not
completely discouraging. The initial scans indicated that of
the three planets, the only one that was M-Class also had
thick blustering ion storms roaring in the lower atmosphere
that made it nearly impossible for our sensors to penetrate
the disturbance. Not to mention the fact that the same
disturbance made transporters usage a no-option as well.

All we had been able to come up with were some hints and
scraps of readings between the tiny fragmented windows that
opened whenever the storm activity decreased:
Oxygen-Nitrogen atmosphere. Some suggestions of water bodies
large enough to be dubbed oceans perhaps present.
Considerable doubts of any larger predators looming about.
No traces of toxicity in the planet's atmosphere.

As it dawned on us soon enough, if we wanted any more clues
about what was down there, we'd have to take a shuttle down
and explore. And that's exactly, as the following briefing
had decided, what we were about to do.

I turn to look back at my two partners and wait for the next
rejoinder. It is brisk in coming.

"Beauty is irrelevant." Seven shoots back, her eyes cool.

I bite back a snort as the pilot throws up his arms in
resignation.

"Fun is irrelevant," She marches on, unchallenged, "And the
assumption that your flight's descent down to the planet's
surface will be a worthwhile challenge at all weighs
entirely on your *own* supposed 'capability' at the helm."
She finishes, her single unhidden brow raised in a
deliberate challenge.

"Seven, I am offended!" Tom's mock-insulted outcry is almost
drowned by the sound of Ensign Kim's chuckle over our open
comm-link from Voyager.

"Nice going, Tom." Harry's grin is audible over the link.

"Glad to hear everything's going just as normally as we
expected, Commander." Kathryn's amused voice comes over the
comm.

"No need to worry, Captain. Everything's going smoothly." I
throw a crooked smile at Tom.

"Yeah, smooth for you, Commander." Tom huffs dramatically.
"*You* didn't just get your feelings trampled on, did you?"

"Relax, Lieutenant," I give him a bemused look and glance
back at our Astrometrics Officer, strangely warming up to
the banter between my crewmates---reluctant or not. "I am
sure Seven didn't mean anything by it."

"It seems Lieutenant Paris's personal shields are
malfunctioning." Her steel blue eyes are on the pilot, and
what looks like cool amusement vying for its place next to
smooth victory plays on her delicately sharp features. "I am
afraid in their absence, the journey through the asteroid
field to the surface below would be a formidable task for
him."

As Tom concedes with a laugh, Seven's eyes shift from his
frame to settle on my face. Her eyes lock with mine and for
one long moment, I am caught in the deep swirling blues of
them. The direct gaze seems to be probing, their penetrating
effect on me almost intrusive, as she apparently studies the
contours of my face, her wandering look both intent and
intense---the silent inspection leaving me quite unsettled.

And then, just as quickly as her eyes had begun their visual
forays on my face, she breaks the contact as well. As if
caught red-handed doing something unauthorized, a strange
look of contrite uncertainty---the same abashment I'd first
seen on her face three days back in the messhall---replaces
her confident foraging of a moment ago, and she abruptly
drops her gaze. As I stare at her crimson face, I realize I
find her uncertainty even more unsettling than her haughty
over-confidence; my brain puzzling over the mystery of her
ivory-hued cheeks suddenly flushing with something akin to
embarrassment, as her eyes turn away.

"Commander, let us know as soon as you have set up the
subspace transceiver on the other side of the disturbance."
The Captain's over-the-comm voice breaks through the haze
like a blast of phaser fire and I almost jump in my seat.

I swallow a couple of times to wet my suddenly dry mouth, as
I turn back to my console.

"Affirmative, Captain." I look at my readings as Paris's
flying fingers prepare the shuttle for our entry into the
thick asteroid belt. "Once we enter the stratosphere,
forming a direct comm-link won't be possible, but we'll
contact you as soon as we've set up the assembly."

"Understood," Janeway replies. "Its still impossible to get
a clear picture of what's down there from our sensors. Keep
us posted when you can, Commander. See you soon."

"Will do so, Captain, and yes, we'll see you soon." I assure
her. "Chakotay out."

With the link to Voyager closed, I turn my full attention to
the task at hand. I hear Seven relaying sensor readings to
Paris's and my stations concurrently and shift my mental
gears to set my private observations of her behavior aside.
That can come later. Right now, we have a stream of flying
asteroids to navigate through.

Irrelevant or not, for a moment as we hurtle onwards to meet
the skimming chunks of rock and the shimmering crystalline
fragments glowing and flying in our path, we're all
transfixed by the sheer magnificence of the spectacle. It
was impressive from afar, but at such close proximity as we
are about to experience the entrance at full throttle, and
with the asteroids screaming along their orbits like a
racing traffic of high-speed fleet of ships, a collective
surge of adrenaline spikes through our bodies.

"Okay, here we go." Tom swallows audibly, as he keeps one
hand on thruster controls, slowing and controlling the
shuttle's speed, as he expertly guides the small craft into
the field.

Slight tremors go through the vessel upon our entry, as
Paris turns the shuttle this way and that, his fingers
flying to dodge the bigger chunks, as I keep an eye on the
navigational deflector---watching it force the
micro-meteorites and other smaller debris away from our
haphazardly shifting course. The gravitational pull is heavy
indeed and we struggle to keep the shuttle's trek through
the asteroids smooth, but Tom's legendary talent at the helm
isn't just mythical after all, as he valiantly skips past
zipping hunks of rocks and planet debris strewn across our
path.

As we reach the middle of the belt, the rush of asteroids
zooming under and over and along the shuttle's path becomes
heavier, and the gravitational pull denser. The few sharper
tremors felt inside tells us of the occasional chunks barely
grazing past our defenses, the thickness of the pressure
acutely felt as the vessel makes its way across the field.

"Shields holding," Seven confirms as I recheck the deflector
readings, my eyes shifting from the viewport to the sensor
readings, and back again. Everything checks out fine.

With a last heavy shudder that jolts through the shuttle's
frame, as we dodge a final cluster of asteroids along the
edge of the belt---their one final bumpy farewell which
Paris rides with his usual flying flair---we clear the belt
and come through the other side of the spectacle.

"We're through." Paris releases his breath and I feel myself
relax incrementally in my seat.

"Good work, Tom." I nod at him.

"Thanks, Commander." He sighs gratefully.

"Five point seven seconds to enter planet's atmosphere."
Seven announces as my eyes fly back to rest on the sensor
readings.

"Reading heavy ion storm formations in the lower
stratosphere." I read from my console.

Tom's fingers are once again moving on the console with
lightening speed. "Distance from the surface twelve thousand
kilometers."

"Temperatures rising to six thousand six hundred degrees."
Seven reports.

There's a jolt as our shields compensate for the varying
temperature changes as we slide through the thick
atmosphere. At the uppermost levels of a planet's
atmosphere, as you go through each distinctive layer, the
temperature changes from kilometer to kilometer, and a
lesser vessel might not be able endure the complexities as
easily. But Davies is equipped with Borg-enhanced shields,
which were designed especially for this mission by Seven and
Harry, and a few shudders and jolts are all that we feel as
we make our descent.

"Sensors detecting high concentration of ionized particles,"
Seven counts the numbers from her console. "Hull temperature
dropping to two hundred degrees, region dense with a heavy
concentration of chemicals in the atmosphere which are
reacting with the solar energy coming from the system's
sun."

"All right folks, I've got the touchdown spot noted." Tom
announces jubilantly. "This is gonna get a little bumpy
before it gets better."

"But I am sure we couldn't be in safer hands." I grin as my
eyes linger on my readings. "Distance one fifty kilometers."

As we enter the troposphere, I watch as the silvery-white
fog of the thick clouds swirling around the vessel suddenly
replaces the blackness of the space.

"Air pressure rising to fifty kPa. Wind activity
increasing." Seven intones.

"There we go, baby." Tom murmurs softly as he tames the
thrusters under his adept hands, his voice gentle and low,
as if he's speaking to the vessel itself---and judging from
the rapt expression on his face, he probably is. "I see the
spot, lets take it nice and easy now."

"Eighty kPa." Another jolt as Seven speaks. "Temperature
dropping to seventy degrees."

And suddenly, we watch as the clouds part to reveal a lush
green terrain filled with trees and patches of water
spattered across its surface. I gasp, feeling Paris too
freeze next to me for a second, as the sheer beauty of the
world is finally revealed to us.

"Thirty five degrees. Twenty. Pressure up to hundred and ten
kPa." Even Seven sounds awed, her voice a little distracted.

Tom's fingers guide the vessel down as all the shuddering
and jolting finally ends and with a final smooth thump,
barely felt, the shuttle lands on the clear patch of grass
the pilot had already noted for touchdown from several
hundred kilometers above.

He looks at Seven and me expectantly, and I smile at him,
"That definitely was a 'fun ride', Lieutenant," getting up
from my seat.

"A most 'capable' performance at the helm indeed." Seven
rises from her console as well and her remark brings out a
radiant smile on his face.

"Gee, thanks Seven, that almost makes up for you breaking my
heart earlier."

I bend over the sensor readings once more. "Gravity 1.2
Earth normal, tropical weather conditions, temperature 40
degrees Celsius, plenty of water, fertile soil, dense
vegetation and abundant mineral deposits." I turn to my
crewmates and smile. "Neelix and B'Elanna will be damn
happy. I think we've found the perfect place to stock up our
draining supplies."

"Oh yeah, and no large life forms registering either." Tom
jumps up from his chair. "If the weather clears up, we might
even be able to get the Captain to approve a shore-leave
schedule."

"One thing at a time, Tom." I shake my finger at him, not
wanting to but still feeling the reluctant need to suppress
his bubbling exuberance. "I don't suppose I need to remind
you why we're here in the first place."

"Oh great, I know," Tom grimaces. "A day long happy
expedition of collecting samples, mapping areas and taking
readings of where and in what concentration the minerals are
located, not to mention 'which', so that we can point out
the perfect spots to begin excavation when the teams start
arriving."

"Right."

"You're no fun, Chakotay." He pulls a face and sighs. "Lets
hope those vegetation patches provide for something better
than Leola Root."

"In that case, I suggest we get out and begin our
'exploring'." Seven announces as she moves to the aft of the
shuttle and releases the hatch of the shuttle door. We
follow each other out of the shuttle and walk into a
miniature version of what looks to me like heaven in the
delta quadrant.

The first thing to greet me is the clean, fresh, terrestrial
air---thick with tropical humidity---filling my lungs. The
lushness of the endless greenery around soothes my eyes, as
I take in a long deep breath of the refreshing air. With the
sweetness of the various scents permeating the air filling
me, I scan my surroundings.

We've landed in the middle of a small basin, a grass-filled
plain that is naturally formed in the shape of a slightly
sunken few hundred meters wide oval, and is surrounded by
groves of trees covering us on all sides. Low patches of
greenery and stalks of grass cover the ground around us,
which roll sedately as a soft breeze flows down from the
upland.

My brows wrinkle at the thought that the trees around the
plain obstruct our view of what lies beyond. Even as my
spirits lift at the pleasant change of environment, I feel
this clearing is a little isolated and gives a perception of
being confined. In a strange alien environment, one must be
aware of all the possible dangers involved---and for that
one must know the terrain.

I flip open my tricorder as I make my way out into the
grassland, walking in a small circle as I make an initial
circuit of the perimeter around the shuttle.

"There're rock formations about three hundred meters beyond
these trees," Tom's voice breaks into my haze, his eyes on
his own tricorder. "Probably a mountain face of some sort,
and scans indicates raw Deuterium deposits."

"I see them," I nod my head, without looking up from my
readings. "Along with Titanium, Beryllium and scattered
deposits of several Magnesium compounds. I also read thick
vegetation that could prove promising in the edible
department right up ahead, Lieutenant." I glance his way.
"You up for a small sample collecting trek?"

"Sure, Commander." He shrugs.

We turn back to the shuttle, and Seven who'd been listening
in to our conversation follows us inside.

"I'll set up the Dual Subspace Transceiver so that we can
make contact with Voyager." She says, taking out the
paraphernalia B'Elanna and Harry had packed into the back of
the shuttle. The idea was to have a transceiver on both
sides of the disturbance---in our case the ion storms in the
planet's stratosphere---so that boosting a comm signal via
radio connection, through the small cracks occasionally
forming in the disturbance, could become easier to
accomplish.

"Do you need a hand?" I ask her.

"No, I am certain I will be able to complete the task before
you are back from your small 'sample collecting trek'." She
replies.

I let a hint of a smile show as I nod. "We're not going very
far. We'll stay in a 300-meters perimeter around the shuttle
and I insist we keep an open comm-link at all times. And
better keep the shuttle hatch closed while you're here. I
don't like the idea of leaving anyone alone for any period
of time."

She stands back and takes out her phaser, and we watch as
she changes the setting on the weapon with a flick of her
thumb before putting it back in the pocket at her right hip.
"My phaser is now set on heavy stun. Don't come in
unannounced."

Tom chuckles as we both get the message succinctly. The two
of us go back to the aft of the shuttle and take out the
containers and equipment we'll need for collecting samples
and specimens, and are soon on our way.

We're in no actual hurry as there's plenty of vegetation
around in all directions to explore, and the initial scans
have shown the potential this planet holds as far as needed
minerals are concerned, so we make our trek a leisurely
stroll up the grassland. Paris keeps up a continuous chatter
by my side, commenting on every strange alien plant or rock
or bush he sees, while I make mental notes of everything
that comes into view.

We climb up the gracefully sloping incline that leads to the
woods, step onto the platform, the grass lush under our
feet, and pause, hovering at the threshold. The woods are
thick, the trees bristly with leafy, blooming branches that
almost bend to the ground with the lush weight of the
strangely shaped fruits and leaves, giving them an exotic
alien appearance.

I slowly turn around to look down the meadow at the
shuttlecraft. She is standing peacefully in the middle of
the grassland, and I note the vista behind her is a
beautiful blend of color and vitality, the daylight peering
down at the meadow through the thick clouds. I look up at
the sky and surmise the time right now must be the season's
mid-afternoon, when it suddenly occurs to me that Paris has
fallen silent next to me. I turn to look at him and find his
head tilted to one side, a slight frown on his face.

"What?" I ask.

His head tilts further and his eyes squint as if focusing on
something far, far away. "Do you hear that?" His eyes shift
to me.

I feel my heart give an uncertain thud as I peer at his
scowling face, and strain to listen to the mysterious sound
he's talking about.

"It's like a strange droning..." His voice trails off as he
looks off in the distance.

And then I hear it: an unending buzzing sound, a strangely
continuous flat drone, that I'd probably mistaken for the
normal rustling that is usually associated with forests. But
now that I can isolate it in my head, I realize it's
actually quite different from any sound I'd hear in forests.
An odd hissing murmur that is ever present, like an ominous
distant droning of bees, humming about in earnest.

"I hear it too." I nod at Tom.

"Insects?" He states the obvious and I nod again.

"That's what it sounds like... some kind of bees maybe."

He looks about in consternation. "But you can't see
anything."

I follow his gaze. He's right. We haven't seen any life
forms so far; no crawling insects, no flies buzzing around,
no fuzzy little critters scampering about. I look up at the
sky. Not a bird in sight. We couldn't even tell if there
were supposed to be any birds in this world or not.

"But the initial scans proposed there were probably no
*larger* animals registering, we should see some small
ones." I look at my companion again and raise a brow when I
see him fiddling with his phaser.

"Planning to shoot at bees with your phaser, Paris?" I grin
at him.

"No, I had just forgotten to set it on high stun." He shoves
it back in his pocket and then frowns at me. "How the hell
*do* you escape from an attack from bees in a crunch
anyway?"

I look down at the ground and see several pieces of fallen
branches scattered ubiquitously, and scuff at a couple with
the point of my boots. "Well, for starters you could build a
makeshift torch by binding the bark of some trees to one end
of this branch. Smoke tends to avert or distract an attack
like that while you make your escape."

"Oh great," Paris gives me a funny look. "I've heard all
about your fire-starting skills, Commander. You'll probably
get us all killed while you're trying to start that fire."

I chuckle at him. "Well, if you don't trust my survival
skills, you can always find a body of water to jump into,
Lieutenant. Bees don't swim."

"Hey that's a great idea." Tom smirks, as he starts to walk
again. "Let's go look for water to jump into in case we get
attacked."

I shake my head at him, as we enter the forest. "You know
what?" I ask him, my eyes again surveying our
surroundings---the continuous strange drone somehow sounding
thicker in the thickness of the woods.

"What?" He asks.

"If you don't like either of those ideas, you can always
take out the spray can with the title SE-IA from your
backpack. The title stands for 'Survival Equipment---Insects
Attack'. It sprays a cloud of cool compressed gas that is
specifically used for situations like that." I smile. "Its
part of every survival kit and has proven to be very
effective in tropical climates."

Paris glances at me, an incredulous expression on his face.
"And I always wondered what the 'IA' stood for. I never had
the need to use it on any of our survival skill hikes."

"Then consider yourself lucky." I smile as I open my
tricorder again, beginning my scanning of the vegetation
once more. My eyes linger on the pathway we're on and look
at the trees on both my sides.

"Look at this trail," I point to Paris. "It's almost as if
it is a usual one taken by an animal, judging from the worn
out shrubs along its sides."

"Yeah," Tom bends down to look at the low-lying underbrush
at our feet. "It looks a bit trampled."

I join him on the floor, picking at the leaves with a pair
of pliers I've taken out from my pack. "Yes, but the degree
of discoloration suggests the trampling must have happened
quite a while back." I point the tricorder at the bush.
"According to this, the decaying of the leaves occurred
approximately seven weeks back. Since then, the plant has
grown back but at a sedate rate perhaps."

"Maybe it's just the season, the climate, maybe they just
grow slow in this season." Tom suggests.

"Perhaps." I nod at him. "That sounds very plausible."

"That means there should be animals visible around, right?"
He looks at me.

Before I can answer him, though, our combadges crackle into
life.

"Janeway to away team."

I smile at the pilot as I answer the hail. "Chakotay here.
Its good to hear your voice, Captain."

"Its good to hear your voice too." Kathryn responds. "We've
been waiting on the edges of our seats to hear from you."

"Good work, Seven." I speak into the combadge, as both Tom
and I get up from our crouch---suddenly realizing that I'd
forgotten my own instructions of staying in constant touch
with each other, so engrossed I was in the alien
surroundings. "That surely was efficient work. Thanks."

"No need to thank me, Commander." Seven's voice comes from
behind us as we turn around to watch her coming into the
foliage to join us. "I had as much 'fun' putting the
transceiver together as evidently you and Lieutenant Paris
had discussing probable methods of escape from bees attacks
and ascertaining the decaying factor of dead vegetation."

Tom grins at her and then at me, as Kathryn's husky chuckle
comes over the comm-line.

"I can see you're still having a good time with those two,
Commander." She says.

"As always, Captain." I look closely at Seven, a small smile
on my face, as she returns my gaze for a few seconds before
looking around at her surroundings.

"All right, back to business." Kathryn says, her tone
quickly shifting from playful to serious. "Now that the
transceiver is working on the other side, we're not only
able to establish a communication link with you, but also
our sensors are able to penetrate the disturbance now."

"That's great." I answer. "What do you read?"

"In the western hemisphere, where you've landed, and which
evidently is the only place our sensors can effectively work
because of the booster signal originating from there---there
is plenty of mineral deposits that we could use, and
possible edible fruits and vegetables as well."

"Yes, our scans indicate we could harvest some of these
vegetables for the food stores." I look at Tom who nods at
me. Both our readings so far indicate the same.

"Perfect." Janeway replies. "Perhaps you can start
collecting some samples while you're exploring."

"We're on it, Captain." I say.

"One more thing," Janeway says. "Our sensors picked up just
one single type of native life form in your area."

My brows wrinkle as I look at Tom. "Just one type?"

"I noticed it as well." Seven speaks. "I checked the several
bio-signatures of the life signs our sensors were detecting
in this area, and they're identical in all ways. There's
only one kind of life form in this perimeter at least."

"That is strange." I look from Seven back to Tom.

"But it's a smaller life form, from what our sensors can
detect." The Captain sounds slightly apprehensive.

"That is correct." Seven replies.

"Have you seen anything?" Janeway asks.

"No, but we believe we've heard something." Tom answers,
looking at me.

"All right. Please report once you've surveyed a larger
area, and if you find anything unusual." The Captain says.
"Janeway out."

With the link from Voyager disconnected, I turn to my away
team. "All right, let's get to work, and stick close." I
turn back to the trail Paris and I had been following
earlier and am about to start walking when the pilot stops
me.

"Commander, maybe we should take a round of this area in the
shuttle," He says. "Look around the terrain, pick out the
best spots for foraging or excavation or whatever."

"Maybe later," I shake my head. "Right now I want to keep
doing what we're doing. Spend a few hours on foot. There's
plenty of area we can check out that way."

"But if I take a short trip in the shuttle," Tom begins
again. "I can figure out the surroundings of this area,
while you guys explore on foot."

I turn to face him completely. "No." I tell him firmly. "I
told you we won't separate. We have no idea what lies beyond
these trees."

"But we have already separated once." It's Seven, who looks
at me with her direct gaze, her one brow raised in a
question. "You left me in the shuttle, while you and
Lieutenant Paris came here to explore."

"But we hadn't gone far away." I make an effort to keep my
voice controlled, as I feel my patience suddenly running
thin. Had to be my luck to be stuck with the two people who
would always question my orders. "We could still see where
the shuttle was. We were in direct comm-link. If anything
had happened, we could always return to the shuttle. We
*will* work together, all three of us. If there had been a
fourth crewmember, I would've allowed us to break into
groups of twos, but that is not an option right now."

"That is an inefficient way to work." Seven's voice turns
cold, her suddenly blazing eyes making me feel like a
specimen in one of the EMH's petri dishes. "If we break off
in singles, we could get the work done faster."

"Inefficient or not, it is the *safest* way to work in an
alien environment such as this." I grit my teeth and stare
hard at her. "I can't allow any of us to get separated,
especially now that we know there is only one kind of life
form prevalent in this environment, one that we haven't the
*slightest* idea what its like. And that's an *order*. We
*will* stay together. So that if anything goes wrong, we can
help each other. Do you understand?"

There's a long moment as the ex-Borg looks at me with
strangely glistening eyes, her jaw set. And then she
swallows and nods curtly. "Yes, Commander."

I turn to Tom. "Paris?"

"Yes, Sir." The pilot nods, a slightly repentant look on his
face. He probably had no idea his suggestion would spiral
out of control like this.

"Good." I nod at both of them, and then turn around. "This
is where we were headed earlier. Let's continue on our
trail."

The three of us follow the trail, the air strangely thick
with tension as I feel their silence hanging around me like
a suffocating curtain of intractability. I am not sure whose
obstinacy it is that I feel, though, theirs or mine?

The silence finally breaks as we come across a carcass of a
small animal. I crouch down and study the bones closely. The
state of the cadaver suggests the flesh was ripped apart
right from the bones, no sign of skin or flesh remains on
the carcass. I look at my tricorder readings and nod.

"The bone decay suggests it was killed around seven weeks
back." I look up at my companions. "The same time as the
trampled plants."

"Do you think this is our lone life form?" Tom looks at the
corpse.

I shrug---a stray bleak thought coming to my mind, which I
try to ignore as I get up.

"Or perhaps, it is the victim." Seven looks at the bones and
then at me, as if she's read my mind.

"I was afraid to say that." I look at her, sensing a change
in her mood. Her eyes have lost their hard glint, and her
mouth has softened as she looks down to the cadaver and back
at my face. I look at Tom's suddenly pale face and realize
that after seeing this evidence, neither of them would want
to be separated from the rest of the team.

I nod at them reassuringly. "Come on. Let's start collecting
samples."

We get to work. Harvesting edible fruits and vegetables
isn't that hard to do so when there's so much variety
around. Take a sample of the vegetable or fruit, put it in
the test-kit, key in the code to assess the viability and to
see whether its edible or not, and then if proven to be
okay, put it in a separate labeled container. We did throw
away quite a few samples because they were toxic, or as Tom
said: "too close to Leola Root in appearance", but within
two hours since we'd begun our harvesting, we'd collected a
pretty good variety of fresh vegetables, fruits and
seedlings.

The three of us take several trips back and forth from the
shuttle to leave our harvested supplies in the aft portion,
always staying together, and expand our surveying perimeter
a few meters ahead every time we begin a new round. Finally,
while following the same trail, we come across a second
clearing that is very much like the one our shuttle has been
parked in. This was where, as we realize, the mineral
readings had come from.

In front of us are several hilly areas that we'd detected
from the shuttle, along with a thin creek filled with
sparkling clear water. With the tricorder, we assure the
viability of the water---it's drinkable---and take detailed
readings of the places where the needed minerals can be
detected and then, return to the edge of the woods again,
going back to our vegetable hunting.

I find another set of bones next to a tree and hunker down
to take more detailed readings. My brow wrinkles as I
realize this carcass is different from the last one we'd
seen---this one was a different species than the one we
scanned before. I shake my head, my mind puzzling over this
mystery. We've only seen cadavers and not a single living
animal around so far. What could this mean? What happened on
this world?

It's while I am noting the scans giving information about
the tissue degradation on the cadaver when I suddenly
realize that the forest has gone absolutely still. I feel
the tiny hairs at my nape stand up as a shiver goes through
me at the realization that even that ever present strange
droning has ended. Not a peep can be heard from anywhere
around us. I look up at the sky and determine the time to be
around late-afternoon---the light has gotten dimmer with the
passage of time and with the cloud covering becoming
thicker.

I look for my team and see Paris scraping away at a bush a
short distance away, but find that Seven is nowhere to be
seen. Alarmed, I get up from my crouch, my brows wrinkling
at the thought that she may have disobeyed my orders and
gone her own separate way and am about to hit my combadge
when I hear a rustle behind me.

"Commander." I almost jump at Seven's voice, startled by her
sudden appearance.

"Seven!" The surprise in my voice is clear and the
expression on her face changes to one of apology.

"Commander, I didn't mean to startle you." She explains.

"That's okay," I shake my head as I stand up straight. "You
just took me a little by surprise. What did you want?"

She hesitates a moment before squaring her shoulders and
looking straight into my eyes. "May I ask you to turn off
your three-way comm-link for a private conversation?"

I stare at her face a moment, puzzled by her strange
request. "Seven, if it has anything to do with your
suggestion of breaking off into singles..."

"No. It has nothing to do with this mission." Seven
interrupts me. "It's a personal matter."

I stare at her a second, my mind puzzling over what she may
have to say to me, and then look at Paris---only to find him
looking at both of us from his bush several dozen meters
away, obviously having heard our conversation up till now.

"Stay in sight, Tom." I instruct him and after getting his
affirmative reply, I punch my badge to close the link. Seven
does the same.

"I am all ears." I turn my attention to her.

She looks at me a little uncertainly, swallows and then
looks down at the ground---obviously nervous about
something. I am perplexed and a little doubtful of what she
wants to say as well---I've never seen her so undecided
before.

"Seven, what's wrong?" I ask, feeling my brows furrow in
concern. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," She begins, looking up at my face again, "I mean no,
there is a matter of deep concern that has me somewhat
conflicted." Her brows furrow and then once again, she
squares her shoulders and straightens her spine. Her eyes
lose their uncertain glint and she looks me straight in the
eye, as if coming to a decision. "Perhaps, this might sound
a little intrusive to you, Commander, but I've noticed your
slight distraction over the last few days."

She pauses for a breath and within that second, a sudden
infusion of bewildering, confusing thoughts floods my mind.
What the hell is she talking about?

"Distraction?" My voice turns cooler.

"Yes," She continues on, not noticing my sudden aversion to
this topic---*whatever* this topic is. "You've seemed a
little subdued than your normal self. You've been avoiding
crowds, interacting with less and less people, coming to the
messhall for your meals when none of your friends are
there..."

"With all due respect Seven," I interrupt her bluntly,
feeling hot fury suddenly inundating my whole being at this
forced infringement. "How I spend my off-duty hours
shouldn't be anyone's concern but mine."

"You don't understand," She stares at me hard. "I know about
Kellin."

I know my mouth has fallen open at this revelation. I find
myself unable to form a response as my mouth works for a few
seconds in vain but no words come out.

"You *do* know about her." She looks at me closely, her eyes
probing, the same feeling of being closely scrutinized by
her that I'd felt in the shuttle once again overwhelming me.
"You *did* keep some kind of record."

"How the hell do you know about that?" I finally find my
voice. "There were no records in the ship's database, how
*can* you know that?" I growl at her, once again feeling
like a specimen in that petri dish, so vulnerable this
feeling of being needlessly exposed is.

She hesitates. "My Borg systems enabled me to keep a record
of those memories."

I snap in impatience, suddenly turning from her and walking
into the woods. "You've known all this time and you kept
this to *yourself*? Why didn't you make a report of your
findings to the Captain or to *me*?"

The expression on her face changes to one of surprise,
perhaps at my sudden explosion of anger, as she follows me
into the grove. "Commander, I only found out ten days
earlier. I didn't make an actual connection with you until I
realized your replicator usage for nutritional consumption
had drastically fallen and then..."

"You've been keeping *tabs* on my replicator usage?" My
voice rises in outrage. I can't believe what I ever did to
warrant such wanton meddling in my personal affairs. "What
else have you been doing? Breaking into my private records,
snooping behind my back at everything I *do*?"

I realize something is wrong with this whole scenario, that
I am reading the situation completely wrong, the moment a
look of something I thought I'd never see on Seven's face
passes through her sparkling blue eyes---genuine
unadulterated pain.

"That's not how I'd intended it to be seen," she chokes out,
her eyes suddenly dulling as she presses her lips together.

I don't get a chance to think about her reaction, though.

Because suddenly the whole forest comes alive.

The buzzing sound, that insistent continuous droning, that
had disappeared a while back, suddenly comes back in full
force---only this time its much stronger, its intensity
almost ferocious. Startled, I look around us, seeing the
concern on Seven's face as well, and start when I hear Tom's
shout.

"Commander."

I scramble out to the clearing, my ears ringing at the
fierce noise, and see Tom running to our side, his face pale
with what can only be described as fear.

"Chakotay, look at that." He turns and points to the
horizon.

I stare at the spot in the sky where he's pointing and feel
my heart start to thud in trepidation. From the distance it
looks like a dark cloud racing down to the forest, something
alive, bustling, roiling with life.

The first thought that comes to me is that they're a flock
of birds, flying in a formation or something. And then I
look up at the sky---the sound of ominous droning rising
with every passing nanosecond and suddenly, I have made the
connection.

"What the hell do you think they...?" Tom starts but I don't
let him finish. I push him towards the trees and turn to
Seven and yell.

"Start *running*---to the *shuttle*."

"I left my equipment back at that site." Tom begins but I
grab his arm and pull him into the woods.

"FORGET IT." I scream. "Now MOVE!"

They get the message as the swarming cloud of whatever the
hell those creatures are dives down at the clearing and we
dash into the woods, running for our lives, our phasers out
in our hands, our feet stampeding through the trail as we
weave our way through the trees.

The swarm follows us, hovering about the trees, their
buzzing louder, somehow sounding different at this close
proximity---almost like a snarling hiss that sends shivers
down my spine. The distance to the shuttle is not that
large, only four hundred meters or so, but running between
the bristly thick trees while making sure we don't fall down
is difficult, and the swarm's presence above is blocking the
sunlight---making it difficult for us to see our way ahead.

Suddenly, one of the creatures dives inside the trees and I
fire at it and miss, the phaser blast instead hitting a tall
tree---and a branch breaks and falls behind us.

"Keep RUNNING." I yell at my companions, as the same
creature changes directions and comes at us from the front.
I aim my phaser at it and fire again, this time my blast
joined in force by one from Tom's weapon. Just before it
explodes in the phaser beam, we get our first look of the
creature---grisly ugly head, large compound eyes, veined
wings, bristly antennae, sharp fangs---it's almost like a
huge foot-wide flying insect of some sort.

"Oh SHIT." Tom groans as the severity of the situation dawns
on all of us. We're in deep trouble. In the trees there's at
least a slight cover---though not real protection---but what
will happen when we make our way to the shuttle under the
clear sky? I bend down and grab a few thick branches from
the ground, throwing one each at my companions as I shove
mine into a hoop hanging loose from the trekking belt I've
got around my waist, my feet never halting in their steady
dash behind my crewmates.

More creatures dive, more phaser blasts are fired---all
three of us firing in reckless abandon---as more branches
burn and fall around us. Stumbling, rolling, staggering, we
run almost blindly, barely keeping our feet on the trail,
until finally, with our chests heaving with exertion, we're
out of the grove and under the open sky. The shuttle is
visible from this point, standing in the middle of the
meadow---the sky is darker above us, even without the swarm
at our heels.

This time a drove of flies descends on us. Tom has taken the
SE-IA can out of his pack and he uses both his weapons
simultaneously---sending a fog of condensed gas up at the
snarling beasts as well as the phaser blast pointed at one
of the creatures. I watch two creatures fall to the ground
as the three of us keep our steady stampede down the slope
and into the grassland.

I suddenly feel myself stumble and stagger on the unsteady
ground, barely catching my step, as I hear a gnarling hiss
from right behind me. I turn around and aim at the fly
diving for me, my other hand on the branch, ready to use
whatever means I have at disposal to fight for my life as I
fire. As the creature falls to the grass in front of me, I
hear Tom's painful scream from behind me. I turn around and
watch aghast the horrifying sight of my pilot struggling
with one creature that has grabbed him by its snapping jaws.

"Tom!" I yell as I fire at the fly attacking him and curse
as I miss the aim. I run towards him, barely aware of the
cover Seven is providing me as she fires at the swarm above
us, the branch held in my hand like a sword. The huge fly's
fangs are closed around Tom's nape, and with a blind rage, I
shove at the ghastly beast with the end of my stick, its
wings continuously in motion. Its jaws loose their grip and
I fire at it at point blank range and watch as it shrivels
into a burnt mass of melting flesh.

I grab Tom before he can fall to the ground, but his eyes
are losing their focus, his body almost limp in my arms.

"COMMANDER." Seven yells. "We must MOVE."

"Tom, you've gotta WALK." I urge the pilot.

"I can't..." He chokes, his breath coming short, as he
blinks up at my face, "I can't move, Chakotay."

I throw my arms under his shoulders and pull his feet up,
straightening his body. "You have to TRY." I order. "I'll
HELP you."

I drag him towards the shuttle, now barely a hundred meters
away, while Seven keeps up a steady stream of weapons fire
at diving droves. But in a manner of seconds, it has become
clear to me that whatever was in that fly's bite has
affected Tom's mobility. He barely twitches as I lay him
down on the ground, turning to fire my phaser at another
attacking fly.

"Commander?" Seven looks at me in confusion.

"He can't WALK." I tell her as I bend the pilot's body at
the waist, pulling his arms over my shoulders. "So I am
gonna CARRY him." I hoist him up on my shoulders and with a
grunt, stand up, feeling his dead weight along my limbs as I
once again hustle my way towards the shuttle. My hands
struggle as I strain to keep the pilot's body balanced on my
one shoulder and I realize I can't use my phaser anymore so
I throw it to Seven. "LEAD THE WAY." I nod at her.

She gets the message. From that point on, I have no idea how
many creatures dove down and attacked us as we staggered
towards the shuttle through the knee high grass. All I am
aware of is the steady flow of phaser fire from the two
weapons held in Seven's hands as she aims with what must
have been remarkable accuracy, because the attack of fangs
on my neck or shoulder that I'd been dreading since the
swarm first appeared never came.

Finally, we reach the shuttle and Seven briskly opens the
hatch as I stagger inside with my weight. Just as soon as
all of us are inside and the hatch is banged closed, we hear
the sound of creatures slamming into the hull---the sound of
their thudding against the titanium plating full of anger
and hostility. I lay Tom down on the portable biobed that
slides out of a wall in the aft section at the push of a
button, as Seven brings out a tricorder and begins scanning
him.

I hear her read out the diagnosis---unknown toxic substance
has damaged the nerve tissue, resulting in partial to
complete loss of the ability to use involuntary muscles---
her voice strained with worry, as with shaking hands I
establish a link with Voyager again.

"Chakotay, what is it?" Kathryn asks.

"We're in trouble. Tom is hurt. We were attacked. Can you
establish a transporter lock on him through the
transceiver?"

There's a pause as she checks the status with Harry. And
then she replies. "Negative. The subspace signal is too weak
for a transport attempt. What happened?"

"I have no time to explain. I am establishing a datalink
through the transceiver. Please get the Doctor online, we'll
need his advice RIGHT AWAY."

"You've got it." Kathryn's worried voice comes through.

I power the engine and bring the shields back online and
with that, hear the furious thumping against our hull fizzle
out. Then I go back to the biobed where Seven is working on
Tom. His breathing is labored, his eyes closed. The
tricorder scans tell us that his heart is closing, slowly
losing its ability to beat because of the paralysis
spreading. I watch as Seven places a small device on his
forehead.

"A Neural Transducer." She explains. "It should transmit the
nerve impulses it receives from his brain to the affected
involuntary muscle groups."

I stare at our gasping helmsman, see his dwindling
bio-readings on the tricorder, and realize he needs to be in
the sickbay. Neither Seven nor I are trained to help him in
the condition he's in.

As the EMH comes online and starts speaking to Seven, I look
at her and realize she's no less affected by the situation
than I am. Her brow is wrinkled with fear, her throat
convulses as she swallows a knot of worry with much
difficulty. My eyes fixed on her face, I hand her a hypo the
EMH advises to be injected into Tom and place my hand on her
wrist. "Work on Tom." I tell her as she looks into my eyes.
"Listen to what the EMH says. I am gonna get us out of here
right *now*."

With that I turn around and walk back to the helm, settling
in the chair with a quiet determination.

I am not going to let Tom die. I won't fail him, won't fail
Seven. Not when it was only supposed to be an innocent
harvesting mission. I can't afford to.

I fire the thrusters and the shuttlecraft lifts up, my eyes
fixed on the readings. I hear the Doc announce that Tom
desperately needs to be in the sickbay to be treated
properly and I softly murmur under my breath.

"Hang on Paris. We're on our way."

The ride back up the atmosphere isn't laden with the same
sense of awe we'd encountered on our way down. The rise and
drops in the hull temperature doesn't fill me with the sense
of wonder I felt while Tom was at the helm. This time
around, the only thing on my mind is that I have to get out
of the disturbance as soon as possible, so that Tom can be
transported to the sickbay. I take no notice of the jolts
and shoves and jabs the shuttle experiences as we pass
through the heavy ion activity in the stratosphere. I see
the green blues of the damned world below us get replaced by
the swirling nebulae of silver-white clouds and heave a
strange sigh of relief.

The computer announces the sudden temperature drops and
increases in its mechanical voice, as we rise through the
atmospheric levels, and I only lend half an ear to them---my
fingers constantly moving on my controls, my eyes firmly
fixed on the viewport in front of me.

My attention strays back to the aft of the shuttle where
Seven is still working on Tom, even as we break atmosphere
and the blackness of space finally comes into full view.

"Voyager, can you get a lock on Tom now?" I growl into my
combadge.

"Negative." Kathryn's worried voice comes over the link.
"Chakotay, the gravitational pull in the asteroid belt is
interfering with the signal. You'll have to..."

"Fine, we're coming *through*." I announce, cutting her off
in the middle, as my fingers fly on the console as if moving
of their own accord. I steady the speed of entry as I plunge
into the asteroid belt, not caring about anything but to get
my crewmates home safely---in one piece.

There's no finesse in this return voyage through the
asteroid field. My eyes don't linger on the flying chunks of
rocks hurtling past our shields to admire their spectacular
beauty but rather to think up ways to barely evade the
wonders as best and as fast as possible. We get hit a few
times, the jolts nearly dislodging me from my seat but I
hang on with a strange, energizing sense of resolve.

Tom will probably make fun of my flying, but he'll be amazed
at my speed record.

"Shields down to seventy percent." I hear Seven's voice
behind me from the science station. I don't ask her why she
is sitting there and not standing at Tom's side, my heart
shrinking in fear at the thought of what her answer might
be.

And at last, after what seems like an eternity, with one
final lurch as we bump past the thick, streaming edge of the
field, we've cleared the asteroid belt.

"Voyager?" I yell into the combadge.

"We've got a lock on him." Kathryn replies. "Energizing."
And then after a moment, "We've got him. Good work,
Chakotay. We're coming over to meet your shuttle at
mid-point."

I feel myself go limp with relief as I punch the auto-pilot
on and turn to face Seven.

She's sitting at the science station, her head bowed in
abject misery, and my heart thuds at the picture of sheer
helplessness she paints.

"Seven, how was he?" I ask her, trying to keep my voice
calm.

She looks up and her fear-filled eyes meet mine.
"Unconscious. Barely breathing. His heart was struggling. I
injected him with the antidote and implanted the Neural
Stimulator into his central nervous system."

"You did all you could." I tell her. "He's going be all
right."

She drops her eyes, her gaze fixed on a point somewhere on
the floor. I watch as she swallows heavily. "If we'd done as
I'd suggested, if we'd broken off in singles, when the
creatures attacked, all of us would've been defenseless."

I frown at her. "But we didn't."

"If I'd persuaded you to let Lieutenant Paris take the
shuttle for that survey," She looks up at my eyes. "We
wouldn't have been able to return to the shuttle in time."

"But we didn't break off, Seven." I tell her, as I feel a
strange lump forming in my throat at her unfounded guilt.
"We stayed *together*."

"But if he had taken the shuttle," She implores at me with
her shimmering blue eyes. "If he'd gotten attacked while he
was away from us, or if we'd gotten attacked while the
shuttle wasn't close by, one of us or all of us could've
gotten killed."

"But we *didn't*, Seven." I raise my voice in desperation,
trying to penetrate through this strange haze she's fallen
into. "I *wouldn't* have let you do that. We stayed
*together*. And we're all right. Tom is going to be all
right."

She stares at me for a long moment and then drops her eyes
again. I stare at her drooped shoulders, my heart beating
furiously in my chest at the sight of her so filled with
pain and self-recrimination.

The strange angry conversation I'd had with her, right
before the attack, comes back to me---and in this new
perspective, it finally occurs to me that I had been wrong
to judge her so harshly. She wasn't trying to be intrusive.
This woman who is sitting in the chair in front of me,
feeling guilty about things that are not her fault, couldn't
have meant to hurt me. I misunderstood her, criminally so.

"Seven," I call out her name. "I am sorry for how I spoke
with you down on the planet."

She looks up at me, her eyes squinting in question.

"When you tried to tell me about how you know about Kellin."
I swallow hard. "I was wrong to speak with you like that.
Please forgive me."

She stares at me as if she can't understand what I am
saying. "There's no need to apologize, Commander." She
blinks. "It was *my* fault. I should never have violated
your privacy like that."

I frown at her. "No, you don't understand what I am saying,
Seven." I sigh impatiently, upset at the fact that she isn't
accepting my words. "I am apologizing to you. You're not at
fault. *I* am."

"You're wrong, Commander." She straightens her shoulders, a
hint of her characteristic stubbornness returning to her
posture. "It was my fault. All of it."

"Seven!"

My exasperated cry is drowned out by the computer's
announcement that we're approaching our destination. I turn
around and see Voyager's welcome appearance looming at us
from the viewport.

I glance back at her and notice her eyes on her sensors, her
jaw once more set. I want to speak to her, to clarify
things, to make her understand that it wasn't her fault,
that she didn't do anything wrong, but there's no time right
now.

Voyager's shuttlebay doors are opening. The Captain's voice
is on the comm welcoming us back. Its time to go home.



========^*^========^*^=========



"I must say, Commander Chakotay's and Seven's timely
intervention and the subsequent emergency treatment of
Mister Paris as per my apt instructions helped save his
life." The Doctor is speaking to the Captain, as Seven and I
stand to one side of his office and listen. "Also if Mister
Paris hadn't gotten back to the sickbay as fast as he did,
thanks to the Commander's astounding flying skills, he
wouldn't have been recovering as nicely as he is right now."

"Agreed." The Captain nods. "How long before he can get back
on his feet?"

"Although all traces of the toxic substance have been purged
from his system," The Doctor replies. "He went through
severe neurological and cardiovascular trauma. All the
damage has been repaired but I'd like to keep him under
observation for the next twenty four hours."

"Very well." Kathryn agrees. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Well, now that this task is done, I must return to my
patient." The EMH says as he picks up a tricorder and walks
out of the office, leaving the three of us alone.

Kathryn looks at us. "I'll wait for you to submit your
reports in forty eight hours. You are both off duty until
then. I can wait to hear about what the hell happened down
there until you're ready."

I nod at her. "It was a chaotic situation. Out of our
control. It will all be in my report."

Janeway shakes her head. "A simple harvesting mission. You
never know what you're going to find out there."

"My data was inadequate." Seven's spine straightens as she
looks at Kathryn. "I should never have suggested we explore
this system."

I sigh in aggravation, and am about to tell her how wrong
she is when Kathryn beats me to it.

"It wasn't your decision." The Captain looks straight at
Seven. "Your data wasn't inadequate, it was simply
promising, just like all such data that needs exploring.
Anything can happen on an away mission, that possibility is
always there. If there's anyone to blame for what happened,
its me. I ordered you to go down there."

Seven blinks, not saying anything.

Kathryn continues, her tone softer this time. "You did an
exemplary job on this mission, you saved Tom's life. Do you
understand?"

The ex-Drone swallows before squaring her shoulders. "Yes,
Captain."

"Go get some rest now." The Captain instructs her. "You're
all exhausted."

Seven nods, her suddenly unreadable eyes shifting to me for
a second, before she turns around and walks out of the
sickbay.

"What happened, Chakotay?" Kathryn is asking me. "Did Seven
have a problem with you down there?"

I look at the Captain, marveling at her keen perceptiveness.
"No, of course not." I reply, keeping my voice calm. "She's
just upset that Tom got hurt, that's all."

Kathryn stares at me a moment and then nods. "Well, if
that's the case then she'll soon be all right, I am sure."

I nod. "Don't worry, Kathryn, I'll speak with her." My eyes
shift to stare at the closed sickbay doors. "She'll be all
right." I sigh. "Everything's going to be all right."

Yes, everything will be fine.

That's the only thing I am sure of right now. I don't know
how but I just know that somehow I'll work it out.

Somehow I'll make her understand.



========^*^========^*^=========


Continued in Memory 3 of4