Endgame Unraveled

by ssmvolvo

It is three years after Admiral Janeway's unsuccessful attempt to get Voyager home. Will her past be Seven's future?

"NOW, Mr. Paris!"

It was a scream more than a command. He winced as his hands worked, one hand bringing down the shields of the Delta Flyer while the other activated the transport. He heard the whine of the transporters begin behind him, but did not turn around. He could see ships starting to converge on them out of the windows. A quick glance at the console showed the ships were charging weapons. Listening for the transporter to complete the transport, he reactivated the shields and moved to set the controls to warp even as the command came.

"Warp six, Mr. Paris!"

The Flyer rocked as it was hit, jerking him left and right in his seat, and he fought for his balance, seeing the warp drive blink off-line.

"We've lost the warp drive."

"I've got tactical! Can you give us full impulse?"

"Full impulse! We've got another ship coming at us. Hull damage on the port side. Shields are at sixty percent."

"I'm diverting auxiliary power to the shields. Sensors indicate ships coming on us from behind. Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Paris! Evasive maneuvers!"

His hands gripped the controls, and the ship dipped and swooped. He concentrated, using the smaller size of the Flyer and its maneuverability to slip in and around the larger ships, gaining them precious seconds and distance.

"I've got a meteor field ahead, Mr. Paris. If we can make it through that, there is a planet just beyond with a gaseous atmosphere we can use to hide in."

He nodded, his eyes focused on the controls. Barely breathing, he watched as they approached the meteor field, aware that the larger ships were gaining on them.

"They trying to latch onto us with a tractor beam, Mr. Paris!"

He ducked the ship hard right, hearing the grunt behind him as a body slammed into the bulkhead, almost laughing when he saw a large meteor accelerate past them, caught in the tractor beam of one of the Neobah's ships.

"Sorry about that, Captain." He called back to her.

"Don't apologize, Mr. Paris. That was a wonderful move." She slid back into her chair, her eyes focusing on the console, reading the tactical displays. Her eyes glanced away from the displays for a second before she forced them back. "We have to hurry, Mr. Paris. We don't have much time."

"We're almost out of the meteor field, Captain. I have a visual on that planet now."

"The Neobah's ships have slowed, Mr. Paris. If we can reach that planet, we should be able to escape." She took a deep breath, "Hurry. Please hurry."

Eyes locked on the approaching planet, he did not allow himself to look behind him. "Almost there, Captain. Almost there."

She watched her tactical display, relieved when the ships stayed outside the meteor field. They had bought themselves a little bit of time. They needed time, she thought allowing her eyes to glance down near her feet, and they needed a miracle.

They flew the final thousand meters in silence, both watching for the deployment of scout ships. The Neobah's scout ships were not well shielded and would not try to enter the planet's atmosphere, but they could interfere with the Flyer. That would cost them precious time.

As soon as they entered the atmosphere, Janeway was on her feet. Tom set the controls to autopilot, activating the sensor alert system to let them know if any ships were within a five hundred kilometer range. Then, he quickly rose and joined his Captain.

She looked up at him as he kneeled beside her. "Help me."

Silently, he helped her lift the bloody and battered body of Seven of Nine.

"We're going to have to risk communicating with Voyager." Her eyes showed her fear, "We need help from the Doctor." He nodded, frantically working over the too still body while she moved to the nearest console, "I'll open a secure line." After a few seconds, she raised her head and spoke, "This is the Delta Flyer to Voyager. Come in, Voyager."

"Go ahead, Voyager."

It was Tuvok. She did not think she had ever felt so comforted by the sound of someone's voice. "Mr. Tuvok, we have been attacked by the Neobahs. I am sending you our coordinates. We are need immediate support and rescue."

"I have received your coordinates, Captain. We are on our way." He paused, then said, "Even at maximum warp, it will take us approximately ten hours to reach you."

"I realize that, Mr. Tuvok. Do your best. We are hidden and, with any luck, we will be able to continue to hide from the Neobahs." She took a breath, "Mr. Tuvok, I need to speak with the Doctor immediately. We have a medical emergency."

There was an instant silence, and she knew he was contacting the Doctor. In a second, she heard the voice.

"Yes, Captain."

"Doctor, we are sending you information on Seven. She was badly injured." She transmitted the data file, even as she spoke. "We have tried to stabilize her, but her life signs are erratic."

There was another period of silence, and she could almost see his forehead furrow as he studied the data. When his voice came back to her, she could hear his concern.

"Do you have the biobed set to life support?"

"Yes."

"Captain, I must talk Mr. Paris through a procedure."

"Yes, Doctor."

The Doctor closed his eyes as he talked Tom through the procedures, moving his hands as he told Tom how to move his. He did not allow himself to think about the person being operated on. He did not allow himself to think about the fact that they were ten hours away. That she was ten hours away. That she probably did not have ten hours to live.

Time was running out.

"Doctor, that didn't work. She's still bleeding."

"Damn!" He looked up in frustration as Chakotay came running into sickbay. "Mr. Paris, you are going to have to cauterize the artery." He closed his eyes again, giving him instructions, ignoring the stare of the man in front of him, his presence demanding attention. Finally, he breathed a sigh of relief when he got the report he was hoping for.

"The bleeding has stopped, Doctor."

"Good. Good job. What are her life signs?"

There was a moment of silence, then the voice came back to him, "They appear to be stable, Doctor."

He put his hands to his head and took a deep breath, finally looking at the Commander.

"What happened?"

"I don't really know the details, Commander. I just know Seven has been critically injured." He saw the look in the eyes and had to look away. Even now, their relationship hurt him. Reading the diagnostics, he frowned. Looking closer, he called to the Captain, "What's happening?"

"I don't know, Doctor." Her voice was panicked, "Her blood pressure is starting to fall."

He looked Chakotay in the eyes. "She must be bleeding internally." They stared at each other for a few seconds. "She's going to die." He looked helplessly around his sickbay. If he was there, he could probably save her. He looked at Chakotay, a desperate idea starting to form, "Commander, send my program."

"What?"

The Doctor moved quickly toward him, putting his hand down on the nearby biobed for support. "Send my program. If I'm there, I may be able to save her."

"Doctor, there's no guarantee that your program wouldn't be damaged. I can't take that risk."

"You have to. If you don't she'll die."

"Doctor," Chakotay straightened, "some things are meant to be."

Anger flared in the Doctor's face. "Don't tell me she has you believing that, too. Not every thing that was to happen happened. This doesn't have to happen, either. Send my program, Commander."

"No, Doctor. I won't authorize that."

"I'm not willing to give up on her as easily as you are!"

Chakotay's face showed his anger. But there was hope in his eyes. After a second, he stepped back. "Okay. We'll try this." He tapped his combadge. "B'Elanna, meet me in transporter room one." He looked at the Doctor, then added, "Immediately."

"This is crazy! I can't believe the two of you are even thinking about this!" B'Elanna stood with crossed arms, looking angrily at the two of them.

"B'Elanna, there isn't time to argue. We have to do this now." The Doctor gave her an imploring look, aware that the seconds were ticking away.

"Doctor, doing this could cause your matrix to totally destabilize. You might not even get there."

He did not even glance at Chakotay. "B'Elanna, I don't care. We have to try. Seven's dying." He added desperately, "We don't have time to argue. Do it now." He lowered his voice. "Please."

Giving Chakotay a quick look, B'Elanna moved to the transporter control, and the Doctor immediately moved to stand beside her, offering her his arm. She looked to Chakotay who nodded his approval, and she deactivated the Doctor, then placed his mobile emitter on the console pad, activating the download. Once it was finished, she accessed the secure line to the Delta Flyer and sent the Doctor's program. When it finished, she locked her eyes on Chakotay's and shook her head.

His program sputtered. Janeway adjusted the controls, resetting the buffer controls, fighting to keep the Doctor's program stable. She breathed a sigh of relief when he finally solidified. Not even looking at her, he moved to Seven and started to care for her.

Janeway stood back, watching him work, noting the desperation in his eyes and in his movements. She saw, however, the intense determination in his face. If he could save her, he would. It was out of her hands now. All she could do was watch and wait.

If only she had not encouraged Seven to join her in this away mission. Suddenly, she realized and her stomach flipped with the thought. It had been exactly three years since Admiral Janeway had arrived on Voyager, trying to talk them into entering the nebula to get them home. It had been a bold idea, and they had made a valiant effort. They had formulated a plan and had been partially successful. But, they had not gotten home. They had entered the conduit with a Borg vessel immediately behind them and the Borg hub disintegrating around them. They had defeated the Borg vessel, the exploding ship causing a tear in the conduit. Voyager had gone tumbling through that tear and had emerged from the conduit a thousand light years from where they had been. Closer to home, but still in the Delta Quadrant. It had all happened in a matter of seconds.

Later, they had toasted their success. They had dealt the Borg a crippling blow, and they had gotten closer to home in the process. They had smiled at each other, but everyone knew the taste of bitter disappointment. But not one of them was sorry. Millions of lives had been saved, the Borg crippled, and they were closer to home.

Janeway had watched her crew, afraid of the impact of their failure to get home. But, for the most part, her crew had settled back into their comfortable routine. The arrival of Miral had proven a wonderful distraction for most of them, with Tom's and B'Elanna's contentment seeming to set the mood for the rest of the ship. They had made their home on Voyager. Even Harry seemed content as he settled into his role as Uncle Harry.

But not Seven. Janeway had watched as she struggled in the aftermath, and Janeway knew that what the Admiral had told her about her future was affecting her. Chakotay tried to help her, tried to reassure her, tried to love her. But, knowing what her future held for her had been more than she could handle. She had gradually pushed him away, and he eventually allowed her to do so.

Janeway knew, in her own way, Seven was trying to protect him. She had tried to tell Seven that what she was doing had hurt him more, but Seven could not let herself continue the relationship. Seven and Chakotay had ended their relationship, almost before it started.

During the last six months, Seven had volunteered for every away mission. At first, Janeway had been relieved that Seven was coming out of herself. Then she realized that Seven was trying to hasten what she thought was her ultimate destiny. But nothing had happened, and it had seemed that even Seven was beginning to believe that her future was going to be different from what Admiral Janeway had told her. She had not married Chakotay. Maybe it was not her destiny to be mortally wounded on an away mission.

Janeway watched as the Doctor frantically worked over Seven, yelling instructions to Tom as he replicated equipment. Janeway saw the growing desperation in the Doctor's face, his clothes turning a dark brown as Seven's blood dried on him.

It was not supposed to have been a dangerous away mission. It was supposed to have been a friendly visit. The Neobahs had invited them to visit their colony. Janeway had accepted. A special invitation had been extended to Seven, and Janeway had talked her into accepting. It would be an enlightening visit for both of them, she had told Seven.

But this invitation had been had been a trap and Seven of Nine had been their quarry.

"Yours is a beautiful ship, Captain." He lumbered beside her, his breath coming heavily. "It is unlike any I have seen."

"Well, we are not from the Delta Quadrant, Merik Oodow. We are from the Alpha Quadrant." She used her hand to invite him to enter her ready room.

"I have not heard of the 'alpha quadrant.'"

"No," she laughed, "I don't imagine you would have. For us, home is still about twelve years away."

"Oh," he looked at her with interest, "you are a very long way from home."

"Yes we are. But," she guided him to a chair that had been placed in the center of the room to accommodate his large size, "we will get home one day. I assure you of that."

He made a grumbling noise in his throat, and locked his eyes on hers. "I wish to thank you for your assistance, Captain Janeway. The supplies you have shared with us will make life much easier for my people. Life has been difficult for us on our new colony since…." He stopped talking for a moment and turned away. She was surprised to see the look of sudden emotion on his face. Recovering, he continued, "Since the tragic incident that decimated our world. With your gifts, we will be able to start feeding our people again. We will be able to build a home. Hopefully, we will soon be self-sufficient again and will not be forced to beg and accept gifts of kindness from such as yourself."

"We are glad to be of help, Merik Oodow."

"Please, Captain, drop the title and call me by the name of my family."

"Of course, Oodow. Thank you. And you may call me by my given name of Kathryn."

"I would be honored."

They had talked as if old friends, sharing stories of their homeworlds. When the computer announced Seven of Nine at the door, Janeway rose to greet her.

"Seven, please come meet Merik Oodow. This is Seven of Nine. She produced the astrometrics charts I gave you." She smiled broadly. "I assure you that you will find them to be the most accurate you have ever seen." Turning to look up at him, her voice was stilled by the look in his eyes.

He was staring at Seven. She turned her eyes coolly in his direction, not flinching under his scrutiny. She was used to this reaction.

"You are Borg."

Janeway stiffened as Seven answered, as she had so many times before. "I was Borg. I was separated from the collective. I am an individual."

Janeway looked up at the figure beside her. "Oodow, Seven is a valuable member of my crew. We separated her from the collective almost seven years ago. She is not Borg."

"But, you were Borg." It was almost an accusation.

"Yes." Seven answered him without any emotion in her voice. "I was."

"My people were assimilated by the Borg." He stepped closer to her.

She did not back up. "I know."

He blinked, his breath catching in his throat as she spoke. "You know?"

Seven turned her head slightly and sighed. "Species eight-six-oh-one. Your species was assimilated in sector four, seven point seven-two years ago. Almost one billion individuals were assimilated within an eight hour period." Her voice dropped. "Your species was particularly strong and cunning. They added greatly to the perfection of the collective."

Janeway froze, listening as Seven spoke. She dreaded the words she somehow knew she would hear next.

Seven squared her shoulders, looking Merik Oodow in the eyes, answering his unasked question. "Yes, I was there."

"You assisted in the assimilation of my people?"

"Yes, I did." She glanced down for only a second, then looked back at the huge man in front of her. "I was…a drone at that time. I acted as part of the collective." She stood, waiting for him to speak.

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes going cold and dark, then pulled himself up. Turning to Janeway, he said, "I think, Captain, I should return to my ship."

She pulled her eyes away from Seven's face to look at her guest. "Of course." She hesitated, then added, "Oodow, please let me show you the way."

"Thank you." He turned to give Seven a look before saying to Janeway, "I will follow you, Kathryn."

They left the Captain's ready room, neither speaking another word, and Seven watched the doors closed behind them. She stood still, then slowly closed her eyes tightly, bowing her head.

It was late when Janeway entered astrometrics, the dim lights casting a long shadow on the lone figure working the console. Without speaking, she crossed the distance between them and joined Seven at the console. Seven never stopped her work.

Janeway took a breath. "Seven…."

"There is nothing you can say, Captain."

Her voice was flat, almost defensive, but Janeway would hear the emotion running beneath it. "I know there isn't, Seven, but I just wanted you to know I was here if you need me."

Seven stopped and leaned slightly into the console as if for support. She took a minute to answer. "Thank you, Captain."

Janeway reached up to put her hand on Seven's shoulder. "It never gets any easier, does it?"

Seven looked away from her, and Janeway had to strain to hear her answer. "No, it does not."

Before anything else could be said, Tuvok's voice came over the com. "Captain, Merik Oodow has asked to speak to you and Seven of Nine."

Janeway frowned. "Do you wish to speak with him, Seven?" Seven gave a barely perceptible nod, and Janeway responded to Tuvok, "Send his call here to astrometrics, Tuvok."

Seven worked the console, then looked up as the view screen displayed the face of Merik Oodow.

"Yes, Oodow," Janeway made her voice friendly, yet reserved.

"Kathryn." His eyes moved toward Seven. "Seven of Nine. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me." He harrumphed and straightened himself in his chair. "I am calling to apologize – to apologize to both of you. I have thought about my actions while I was a guest aboard your vessel. I acted inappropriately. I ask your forgiveness, Kathryn, and especially yours, Seven of Nine."

Janeway stood back, waiting for Seven to answer first. Seven did not hesitate. "Thank you, but you have nothing to apologize for. I did not consider your actions to be inappropriate, especially not after I told you about my involvement in the assimilation of your people. You had every right to be upset."

Janeway smiled. "Apology accepted, Oodow. Your behavior was understandable, under the circumstances."

He smiled down at them. "I thank both of you." He shifted again, taking a moment before continuing. "I would like to extend you an invitation to visit our colony."

Janeway glanced at Seven, trying to read her response. Seeing the indecision in her eyes, she said, "Thank you for your invitation, Oodow. We will consider it and let you know."

He nodded, "I understand, Kathryn." Taking a breath, he looked at Seven, "I hope you will consider my invitation. You would give my people hope that one day, some of our people can and will be freed from the collective." He looked immediately to Kathryn Janeway. "I will wait to hear from you, Kathryn. Oodow out."

The screen went dark. Janeway turned to Seven and, seeing the look on her face, said, "Seven, I think it would be a good idea if both of us slept on this invitation. We'll talk about this in the morning."

When Seven gave her a slight nod, Janeway patted her on the shoulder and walked out.

Tom Paris fidgeted in his seat. Following the Neobah's slower ships was boring. They could have arrived at the colony planet almost a full two days earlier had he been able to fly there without having to follow along like a puppy. He sighed and tried to settle back in his seat, once again, looking over the ship in front of him.

It was a huge transport ship, one of ten that had been off planet when the Borg attacked. The people on the ten ships were the only survivors of a planet with almost a billion people. Merik Oodwo had spent time on the Delta Flyer with them as they traveled to the new homeworld of the Neobah's, telling them about the time that they had spent trying to find their new home. It was a familiar story. He had heard similar stories as they had traveled through the Delta Quadrant. He smiled. It was just such a people who had stolen the warp core and had almost killed B'Elanna and him. But, if the Cataati had not done that, the two of them might still be running around Voyager, not bothering to tell the other how either of them felt.

He glanced back at Seven as she worked. Seven had been working intently for the entire trip, quiet and still. He knew she was struggling emotionally. He concentrated on his console, thinking. When they had met the Cataati, they had demanded Seven of Nine in return for the warp core. They had wanted to exact their revenge on her for the crimes of the Borg. And, they had not been the only ones. Most of the aliens they met in their travels felt the same. Seven acted as if their reactions did not bother her, but he knew better.

She did not let people know what she was thinking, but he could tell. He had learned how to read her. He could read her moods, her emotions. It had been a gradual thing with him, and it wasn't anything he had worked to learn. It had come over time. He realized it had started soon after his near-death experience in space. It was probably because he had relaxed in his life, content with the person he knew he would spend the rest of his life with. It had given him a different perspective, and he had seen a lot of people in a different light. She was one of them.

She was trying to remain aloof, as if going to the colony planet did not bother her. She was trying to act as if she was actually looking forward to meeting these people, hoping that her presence would give them hope for their lost family. But, he knew that was not the case. He could tell she was afraid. He could tell she also felt guilty.

Suddenly, he realized she was speaking to him. "I'm sorry, Seven. I was concentrating. What did you say?"

"I am going into the storage bay." She turned and left.

He glanced over as Captain Janeway leaned toward him. "She's really nervous about this."

He nodded, giving her a grim smile. "I know."

Janeway looked out at the ship in front of them, giving herself a moment before she spoke. "So am I."

"Really?"

She nodded slowly. "I don't know what it is, but I'm suddenly feeling uncomfortable."

"Has Merik Oodow said something?"

She shook her head. "No, he hasn't. It isn't…anything he has said. It's just that…." Her voice trailed off, falling silent for a few minutes. He waited, not wanting to interrupt her. Finally, she continued, "I can't explain it, Tom. But, something doesn't feel right." She looked back at the door. "I've been thinking."

"Yes?"

She tapped her finger on the back of her chair. "I think it might be a good idea to have a back up plan."

Janeway knew she was right as soon as she and Seven materialized, and she saw the looks on the faces surrounding them. The faces were twisted in hate, and the eyes glinted in anger as weapons were trained on them. An armored Neobah walked up and jerked the combadges from their chests.

"What is this?" She spoke angrily and with as much command as she could. Turning to Merik Oodow, she demanded, "Explain this."

He pulled himself up to his full height. "I am sorry for your involvement, Kathryn, but this is justice."

Despite the weapons trained on her, she stepped up to him. "We are here at your invitation, under your protection. What is the meaning of this action?"

"You will be safe, Kathryn," his voice was soft as he addressed her, then it hardened, "but the Borg will pay for her crimes."

She lowered her voice. "You said she would offer hope to your people."

"She will. There are some of us who do find hope in her presence." He turned to look at Seven. "But there are more who seek justice for what she has done."

"You mean revenge," Janeway growled.

He turned his head slowly in her direction, his eyes cold. "For my people, there is no difference, Captain." He nodded his head, and the armored Neobahs moved toward Seven.

Janeway started for the one closest to her and was immediately jerked back by two others. She started to fight the handholds on her arms when Seven spoke, her voice calm. "No, Captain. Please do not fight."

She stopped struggling. "Seven, I…."

"There is nothing you can do, Captain." She raised her head, "Please, do not put yourself at risk." Her voice lowered as she repeated herself. "There is nothing you can do."

Janeway stood frozen as the Neobahs took Seven and pushed her through a door. As soon as they were gone, Merik Oodow addressed her. "You will not be harmed. Once our justice has been served, you will be allowed to leave." He gave her a sympathetic look. "We are not an unkind people, Kathryn. We understand loyalty, even when it is misplaced. You will be allowed to take the body of your Borg back to Voyager."

He turned his back on her, and the Neobahs on either side of her pulled her toward a side door, pushing her roughly inside and closing the door behind her. She looked around, seeing only a view screen on the wall. As her eyes roamed over it, it flickered to life, and she gasped at what she saw.

Seven was in the center of a small arena, surrounded by at least fifty Neobahs. She was standing straight, her face expressionless as a disembodied voice spoke.

"How do you plead?"

Seven's eyes moved over the crowd, but she stayed silent.

"Your silence condemns you. You will face your fate for your crimes. Those around you have won in the lottery. They will exact justice on behalf of our people."

The voice ended, and an alarm sounded. The people moved forward.

Even as Janeway watched, her hands were fighting to pull the hidden combadge from the top of her boot.

Seven forced herself to stand. She would not run. She would not fight. She would not show any of the fear she felt.

Tom started to lean back in his seat, a deck of cards in his hands. Shuffling the deck, he prepared to settle into a long game of solitaire. The explosion off the port of the Flyer threw him out of his chair and sent cards flying everywhere. Scrambling back to his seat, he yelled, "Computer, shields up! Then, he heard the Captain's call.

"Mr. Paris! Now!"

They advanced. Seven caught a movement out of the corner of her eyes and turned to see the arm of a young child as it ended a downward swing. As her head completed its turn, an object hit her forehead, dazing her. She immediately felt a trickle of blood from the wound. She started to raise her hand to her forehead, but caught herself and forced her hand to drop. Then, she felt a thud in her side, and she staggered as a burning pain suddenly erupted. Looking down at her side, she saw the hilt of a knife. Surprised, she looked at the closest Neobah, and the words slipped out before she could stop them.

"I am damaged."

The Neobah raised the club in his hand and brought it down on her.

"Mr. Paris! Tom!" Her voice turned to desperation as she watched the scene in front of her, "Tom! Where are you?"

He was working frantically to break out of the pull of the transport ship's tractor beam. He could hear the Captain's calls, her fear full in her voice. He sent an energy burst through the shields and was able to disrupt the tractor beam long enough to shake the Flyer free from its hold. He quickly went to full impulse, going up in a huge arc and coming down behind one of the larger ships. He fired, knocking its weapons off-line. Slipping under the ship for cover, he activated the transporter controls, screaming in frustration when he saw they had gone off-line.

Janeway's hands were furiously fighting the door, trying to find a way to open it. She turned back to see Seven down on one knee, the people around her exacting their justice. She watched as Seven's head started to lower and her body to sink to the ground under the blows. She never raised her hands to protect herself. Janeway tried one more time.

"NOW, Mr. Paris!"

"Captain! My program!"

The Doctor's yells brought Janeway back, and she jerked her attention to the console. The Doctor's program was destabilizing.

"Do something!" His eyes were wild.

She worked. "Computer, open a line to B'Elanna Torres!" She waited a second, then almost screamed. "B'Elanna!"

"Captain?"

"I'm having a problem with the Doctor's program. I can't stabilize it."

"Is it still in the communication system?"

"Most of it, yes."

"Link it into the main computer system."

She worked again, breathing a sigh of relief when he solidified and continued to work over Seven. "What happened, B'Elanna?"

"I think his program was damaged sending it."

Janeway's heart skipped a beat. "Will he be okay?"

There was a moment of silence. "I don't know, Captain. Just don't let him go off line. You might not be able to get him back"

She took a fearful breath. "Okay, B'Elanna."

"I'm right here if you need me, Captain."

"Thank you, B'Elanna."

"Captain," Janeway heard the hesitation in her voice, "how…are things going?"

Janeway watched as the Doctor and Tom worked over Seven, Tom's hair clinging to his head from sweat, his eyes growing increasingly weary with the intensity of their work. Finally, she said, "Not well."

There was another brief period of silence. "We'll be there in less than an hour, Captain."

She did not respond.

The Doctor barely stopped his work as the Flyer and its crew was transported to the shuttle bay. He raised his head, yelling, "Computer, medical emergency. Two to beam to sickbay!"

His eyes widened when nothing happened, and Torres' voice was heard instead, "I'm sorry, Doctor. We can't transport you out of the Flyer's computer system. Your program is too unstable."

"I need to be able to use the biobed in the surgical bay!"

"Hold on a second, Doctor, I'll transport it to you. I'm on my way to assist you with it."

He did not look up as the biobed materialized close by. He continued to work, aware when B'Elanna entered and connected the biobed. It was less than five minutes, but it seemed like a lifetime to him before her heard her. "It's ready, Doctor."

He nodded to Tom. "Help me move her."

The Doctor grabbed Seven under the arms, and Tom grabbed her by the feet. Together, they lifted her, moving her quickly from one bed to the other. The Doctor immediately activated the life support system of the bed and continued to work.

An hour later, his hands slowed, and he asked, "Life signs, Mr. Paris?"

"Heart beat weak, but steady. Respiration normal. Blood pressure low, but holding." He spoke, his voice tired, "Everything is showing normal." He looked up, giving the Doctor a grim look. "More or less."

Janeway watched as the Doctor grew fuzzy, then watched as his program fizzed and sputtered. B'Elanna moved immediately, making adjustments.

"Doctor," she gave him an imploring look, "I might have to take you off line. Your…."

He exploded as he whirled at her. "Do not take me off line! She needs me. Do not dare take me off line!"

She froze, the force of his words frightening her. "No, Doctor. Of course not. I won't take you off line."

He gave her a sharp nod, and turned immediately back to his patient. Torres looked at Janeway, her eyes wide. Janeway walked over to her and spoke, her voice low. "Can you keep him running?"

Torres could hear the concern in the words. "I think so, Captain, but the longer his program runs, the more unstable it becomes. The longer this goes on, the more dangerous it's going to be for him."

"What's the risk?"

"I'm afraid his program is going to crash completely. His matrix is unstable." She glanced down at the console, monitoring his program. "His platform is also starting to destabilize. If he starts to go, I don't know if I can stop it."

Janeway sighed and rubbed her forehead. Hesitantly, she walked closer to the Doctor. "Doctor, would it be okay if I came to see Seven?" He did not look up, but gave her a slight nod of his head. She approached slowly, reaching out to take Seven's hand in her own. The fingers were still and flaccid, the hand heavy in hers. Janeway looked into the bruised face, still able to see the wounds, despite what the Doctor had done to heal them.

"I will use the dermal regenerator on her later." His voice was gravely, "There were…too many others to worry about those."

She waited a moment, then asked, "What is her prognosis, Doctor?"

The Doctor moved around the biobed, stopping to put his hand on Tom's shoulder. "Mr. Paris, why don't you go take a sonic shower and get some rest?"

"No, Doctor. You might need me."

The Doctor smiled at him, "You're right. And for that reason, you need to try to get some rest. You might have to take over for me if…." His voice trailed off, and he looked back towards B'Elanna. Turning back to Tom, he said, "If you would, use the sonic shower on the Flyer and rest in one of the bunks." He tightened his grip on Tom's shoulder. "But get some rest."

Tom's eyes dropped to the figure on the biobed. He reached up and patted the Doctor on the shoulder and moved past him, towards the door. "Call me if you need me."

The Doctor waited until Tom stumbled out of the door of the storage bay, barely glancing at his wife, whose eyes were focused on the console, monitoring the Doctor's program. The Doctor did not miss how exhausted Tom was, or how intently B'Elanna was watching out for him. He turned his attention back to Janeway. "Captain, her prognosis is minute to minute." He picked up Seven's left hand, his fingers unconsciously tracing the metal wrapped around it. His spoke, his voice a painful whisper, "All of those blows and her own knuckles are not even bruised. Her arms aren't as bruised as her back." He looked the Captain in the eyes. "She didn't fight back, did she? She didn't even try to protect herself." When there was no response, he asked, his voice more forceful, "Did she?"

Janeway saw the look in his eyes and knew she had to give him an honest answer. Shaking her head, she said, "No, she didn't." When he fell silent again, she decided to take a chance. "Doctor, Seven is stable at the moment, but you are not. Please let B'Elanna try to check your program." When his eyes flashed at her in anger, she quickly said, "I won't let her take you off line, Doctor. I promise. She will not take you off line." She spoke firmly, "But we need to assess your status. Do it for Seven, Doctor. She needs you to be here to take care of her."

His eyes softened, and he leaned over Seven, holding her hand to his chest with one hand and stroking her hair with his other. After a moment, he spoke to her, "I'm going to be across the room, Seven. I'm here with you. I'm not leaving you. I'll only be across the room." He looked at the Captain. "You will stay here with her?"

"Yes. Of course, Doctor."

He placed Seven's hand gently on her stomach and walked toward B'Elanna. "Where do you want me?"

"Right there is fine, Doctor. I will not take long."

He stood, his eyes never leaving Seven while B'Elanna worked. From time to time, B'Elanna would look up with a worried look in her eyes, but she never spoke. Janeway watched them, seeing the pain in both of them. She could tell B'Elanna did not like what she was seeing.

B'Elanna Torres worked as quickly as she could, aware that the Doctor would leave her immediately at the first sign of a problem with Seven. What she was seeing was frightening her. She had never seen the Doctor's program so unstable. His subroutines were looping and programs were abending. He was close to a total crash. She was not even certain how he was still functioning as a doctor. She had to do something. When the idea firmed in her mind, she finally spoke, "Doctor, we need to lighten your program a little bit."

"How?" His question was quick and demanding.

"I can temporarily remove some of your subroutines."

"Which ones?" He turned to her, his fists slamming onto the top of the console.

She knew immediately what he was thinking. "No, Doctor. I'm not talking about any of your medical skills. I realize they are the largest ones in your program, but I'm talking about some of the ones you and I have added. Your hobby subroutines."

"Singing?"

She nodded.

A look passed over his face, and he glanced back toward Seven. Jerking back around he said, "Delete them."

"Doctor," his response surprised her, "I didn't mean delete. I…."

"Lieutenant, delete them. Delete all of them if you have to. Delete everything, but leave me my skills. That's what she needs from me right now." He stood in front of the console, his hands tightened into fists. "Do what you have to do, but don't take me away from her." He leaned closer to her, his voice strained, "Please, give me forty-eight hours. I need forty-eight hours to see her through this. After that, you can do whatever you have to do to my program. Forty-eight hours."

She felt the force of his eyes boring straight into her. Swallowing hard, she slowly started to nod her head. "Forty-eight hours, Doctor. I will do everything I can to give you forty-eight hour."

She could almost swear she saw tears in his eyes as he straightened. "Thank you, B'Elanna. I know you will do your best. Do I have to stand here?"

"No, Doctor. Actually, you can return to Seven's side. If I need you over here, I will call for you."

He turned away without responding, and she lowered her head to work on his program, intent on saving as much of his program as possible while still pulling out as many of his subroutines as she could. But, she did not delete them. She preserved the programs, careful to record their structure. It would make it easier when she rebuilt his program. She could already tell his program was going to require an extensive rebuild when they were done. And that would be if Seven lived. If she didn't live, B'Elanna wasn't certain there was much of the Doctor that could be saved.

Janeway watched the three figures, realizing she was frightened for all of them. The Doctor's program was unstable, but so was his emotional state. B'Elanna was caught up, trying to do the impossible in both saving the Doctor's program and giving him time to try to save Seven. And Seven was trying to die. She had not fought to protect herself, and had tried to walk bravely into her destiny. Janeway sighed, moving toward the replicator and ordered a large, black coffee. It was going to be a very long night.

It was a harrowing forty-eight hours. B'Elanna fought to keep the Doctor's program functioning, even as it continued to degrade and destabilize. Seven fought to die, and the Doctor fought not to let her. As the hours crept by, he talked less and less, focusing all of his attention on the figure on the bed. In the last hours, he started talking again, but only to Seven, his voice soft, but constant. Most of the time, his words were spoken with his face pressed close to hers, whispering in her ear, his words for her alone. Janeway watched her lifesigns as he talked, noticing as time went by, that Seven seemed to respond positively to his words.

She could not hear what he said to her. But, she watched his face as he talked. Seven was beyond his skills now. He could only respond to the symptoms of her injuries. He had done everything possible to heal her wounds. Now, she needed time for her body to recover. As Seven fought to let go of life, the Doctor fought to give her a reason not to.

Janeway could not but help think about the contrast of the Doctor's actions with Chakotay's. He had come, entering the storage bay slowly, his eyes immediately locking on the figure lying pale and still on the biobed. Janeway had noticed that the Doctor's eyes had given him a warning look, and she knew he was telling Chakotay to tread carefully. Instead of approaching Seven, Chakotay had walked up to her.

"How is she?"

Janeway shrugged. "It isn't good."

He nodded, then said, "Kathryn, you know, it's been three years."

He left the words hanging between them, and Janeway knew what he was telling her. She did not even turn in his direction. "Are you giving up on her, Chakotay?"

"Sometimes, we want things so badly, we make certain they happen."

This time, she turned her head to him, her look incredulous. "What are you saying?"

Chakotay gave Seven a quick glance. "Seven has been preparing for this day for three years." He tightened his mouth. "I think this is what she wanted."

Her anger spiked. "Follow me, Commander." She turned and led him out of the storage bay. As they walked into the Flyer's cabin, she turned on him. "I don't want anymore of that kind of talk anywhere near her. Actually, I don't want to hear anymore of that kind of talk, period." Her hands were on her hips, her face contorted in anger.

He did not back down. "I know you are angry, Kathryn, but you know yourself that Seven has had a death wish for these last six months. She accepted that she was going to die." He moved toward her. "She gave up on us because of this."

Janeway did not back down. "Was she the only one, Chakotay? Didn't you give up also?"

He blinked. "You don't know what it was like."

"No, I don't. But, I know how difficult Seven can be when she gets something into her head. I also know that those are sometimes the things she wants more than anything to be talked out of. If you had really loved her, you would not have given up on her."

Chakotay sighed, closing his eyes. Janeway saw it immediately.

"You didn't love her."

He answered her immediately. "I did love her. I…." He closed his eyes. "Its…I…." He stopped, then started again, "I did not love her enough. I don't think, when it came down to it, that I knew how to love her." He turned from her, continuing to talk, "I knew she was bothered by things, Kathryn. I knew her life with the Borg weighed heavily on her. It was hard to get past all of the defenses she had built up because of her life. When the Admiral told her she would die in my arms and that I would never be the same, it was the death of our life together. Seven could never get that picture out of her head. She told me, once, she could not stand the thought of assimilating another life that would cause more pain. That's how she put it." He put his hands on his hips and turned back to face her. "You know, Kathryn, I have asked myself many times if I truly loved her. I think I did. I feel a love for her, but maybe I was more in love with the idea of being in love with her."

Janeway saw the look on his face, her heart growing heavy at his pain. She walked up to him, placing her hand gently on his arm. "Chakotay, you shouldn't blame yourself. It's okay that you couldn't love her, didn't love her enough. Just, please, don't give up on her now. She needs for us not to give up on her. You don't have to love her to keep fighting for her." She squeezed his arm. "She needs for all of us to fight for her right now."

Chakotay closed his eyes and slowly nodded, but did not say anything.

"Captain," B'Elanna's voice was controlled and neutral, "it's been forty- eight hours."

Janeway moved toward the Doctor, careful to keep her body relaxed. The Doctor had grown more emotionally unstable as his program had degraded.

"Her lifesigns appear to be more stable, Captain." His words cracked and whistled. "I think we probably need to put her in her alcove." He handed her a PADD. "I have written explicit instructions regarding her care. I think Mr. Paris should be able to provide for her." He stopped and his head jerked slightly. She could see how hard he was struggling to be able to even communicate with her. "She is still very much as risk. I don't know what her chances are, but I know I can no longer care for her." He walked back and placed his hand on Seven's arm, leaning down to talk to her. "Seven, we are going to let you regenerate now. You are going to be all right. Don't worry about anything. I will be with you. Regardless of wh…..trust that I am with you, Seven." He straightened and backed away from her. Walking up to B'Elanna, he said, "I am ready."

B'Elanna looked to Janeway, her eyes seeking approval. Janeway nodded. B'Elanna took a deep breath. "I will do everything I can, Doctor."

"I know you will, B'Elanna. I'm not worried."

B'Elanna bit her lip, aware that tears had sprung to her eyes. Without speaking, she lowered her head and took him off line. As soon as he dematerialized, she brought her hands to her face and started to cry. Janeway quickly moved to her and wrapped her arms around her.

For two weeks, Kathryn Janeway prowled the corridors of Voyager, moving from the bridge to deck five to deck seven and sometimes back to deck five before returning to the bridge. She would fidget in her chair, go to her ready room and come out with a fresh cup of coffee, turn the bridge to whoever was second at the time and head for one deck or the other. She seldom slept for more than four hours at a time.

Walking into sickbay, she noticed B'Elanna had turned down the lights and was working on the center console, her face lit by its colored displays.

"Lieutenant."

"Hello, Captain."

She waited to see if B'Elanna would say anything else. Walking to her side, she watched as the Lieutenant worked, surrounded by PADDs and handwritten notes. "How is it going?"

B'Elanna shook her head. "Very, very slowly. I finally have his platform and matrix working." She gave the Captain a wry smile. "I think they finally just gave up fighting me"

Janeway laughed, but she knew that B'Elanna was only joking a little. After a week of work, Torres had given up trying to rebuild the program and just started rewriting it. Some pieces had been copied, but most had been rewritten. So many of the Doctor's programs had been corrupted, it was impossible to use them. While there were back up copies of most of them, many of those copies had been made prior to other additions and she found herself copying in subroutines, then almost rewriting that section of the program to get them to work. It was easier, she had finally decided, to just start from scratch. She had worked almost non-stop trying to bring the Doctor back.

Janeway knew there was more motivating her than the need to have the Doctor back on line. Torres could easily have brought the original program up and worked in a few key subroutines, but they would not have the Doctor back. And Miral would not have her godfather. Janeway knew Miral went to bed almost every night asking for Papa Doc. He had become a fixture in her life, and there was no way B'Elanna Torres was going to bring back anyone less than Papa Doc.

"Can I bring you anything?"

"No, thank you, Captain." B'Elanna shook her head. Barely looking up from her work, she said, "Going to visit Seven?"

"Yes."

B'Elanna grinned. "Tell my husband I said hello."

She laughed. "I will, B'Elanna." Patting her lightly on the shoulder, she left sickbay.

She walked the familiar path to the cargo bay, thinking to herself that she probably had this trip timed down to the second. As soon as she entered, she saw Tom standing at the console, monitoring Seven while she regenerated. Crossing the empty deck, she greeted him, "You wife told me to tell you hello."

He grinned, his eyes weary. "Thanks."

Janeway looked at the cot nearby. "When were you home the last time?"

He gave her a sheepish look. "I actually haven't slept a night at home." He picked up the PADD. "My instructions were pretty explicit."

"Maybe I can take over for you tonight."

He gave Seven a long glance. "Thanks, Captain, but I think I'd rather be here." His eyes started to mist. "I can't stand the thought of not being here if…."

She waited, giving him time to recover. Finally, she said, "I know the Doctor will appreciate how you cared for Seven for him." He nodded, but did not speak. Janeway looked over the diagnostics. "How is she today?"

Tom cleared his throat, "Actually, I'm encouraged today. I've seen a few things that make me think she's starting to improve. Her nanoprobes seem to have repaired the brain damage and have now moved on to other systems."

"How much longer do you think she will regenerate?"

"I don't know. There isn't a timer on this thing." He gave her a quick grin, and she knew he was joking. "The Doctor said the alcove would terminate regeneration when she was repaired."

"Well, I guess we just keep waiting."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Where's Icheb?"

"I think he's watching Miral while Harry is on the bridge." His eyes roamed over the console. "Between Harry and Icheb, Miral is with someone all day long. They have really helped out a lot."

"I know. They've traded op positions in the same way."

Tom did not respond. As they fell silent, the computer sounded.

"Regeneration cycle complete."

They watched as the figure before them awoke and stepped out of the alcove.

"Captain. Mr. Paris."

Janeway smiled and stepped away from the console. "Hello, Tuvok."

He turned, his eyes locking on Seven's face. "There has been no change."

"Actually, Tuvok," Tom responded, "I think we are finally seeing some improvement."

He gave a short movement of his head. "That is good news."

Janeway moved toward him as he stepped down from the alcove. "I don't imagine you are hungry?"

"Actually, Captain, I do find I need…" he paused, then cocked an eye at her, "'nutritional supplements.'"

Janeway and Tom burst into laughter. "Come on then," she took him by the arm, leading him to the cargo bay doors, "join your Captain for a late lunch."



Janeway accepted a refill on her coffee and settled back in her chair. She waited for Tuvok to finish his lunch, quietly studying him while he did. She wondered if she would ever get used to the site of him with his Borg implants. The metal stretched around his face, starting over his right eye, circling around his eye and covering most of his cheek and the side of his neck, ending in the center of the back of his neck. It reminded Janeway of the position of his hand when he was in a mind-meld. Seven and the Doctor had assured him that, once they arrived on Earth and he was able to undergo the mind saving meld, the implant could be successfully removed. Until then, the implant, the regular infusion of Seven's nanoprobes and regular regeneration held off the advancement of Tuvok's neurological disease.

The implant had been Seven's suggestion. She had studied his medical history and discussed her idea with the Doctor. They had approached Tuvok and the Doctor had determined that the implant, with the other Borg implants still left in his system and Seven's nanoprobes possibly could put his disorder in remission. And, it had worked. While he did not have the same need to regenerate as Seven, he had found the experience beneficial. He had made it a habit to regenerate at least four hours a day.

"So, tell me, Tuvok," she slid closer to the table, placing the cup down on it with her hands wrapped around it, "do you still enjoy regenerating?"

"I find it a unique experience, Captain. For me, it assists in ordering my thoughts. I have found it to be even more effective than meditating."

She grinned at him. "It sounds like you might not want to give up your Borg implants."

"On the contrary, Captain. I will gladly give them up when we return home. In the meantime, I appreciate what they mean for me." He sat up straighter. "It does make me realize, however, how beneficial Borg technology could be if it was directed for good."

Janeway nodded. "It sounds odd that we have so much to be thankful to the Borg for."

Tuvok did not respond. He allowed the Captain the silence of her thoughts.



Janeway was running full speed down the corridor toward the opening cargo bay doors. She pulled up in front of the alcove and stood, fighting for her breath, her anticipation full in her face. She gave Tom a quick glance.

"Only a few more seconds, Captain."

She watched as the computer intoned its announcement.

"Regeneration cycle complete."

Janeway stepped up onto the platform as Seven opened her eyes. She waited for Seven's eyes to focus on her before speaking, "Hello, Seven. It's good to see you awake."

Seven blinked, obviously disoriented. She seemed to try to step forward, but did not. Her body slightly wavered for a second and then stilled. "How long have I been regenerating?"

Janeway kept her voice low and calm. "Almost a month."

"A month?" Her forehead furrowed deeply as she tried to process what the Captain had said. "What happened?" Her eyes narrowed as she asked the question. Then, before Janeway could respond, they opened wide and she said, "Oh. The Neobahs."

Tom stepped up beside them. "Hi, Seven."

"Mr. Paris."

He raised his hands and started scanning her with the medical tricorder. "I would like to get you to sickbay, Seven. I need to run a complete diagnostic on you."

"You…? She frowned, her eyes casting around. "Where is the Doctor?"

Janeway put her hand on her arm. "Seven, I will explain everything to you. But first, we need to get you to the sickbay." Before anyone could say anything, she spoke, "Computer, three to beam to sickbay."

As soon as they materialized, Seven looked toward the central console. Tired eyes looked back at her.

"Well, you're awake." Torres gave her a grin. "Welcome back."

Seven gave her an uncertain look. "Thank you."

Tom took her arm. "Please, Seven, lie down and let me check you."

She stretched out on the biobed, and Tom activated the diagnostic arms. Janeway stood and watched as he worked, relieved when she saw his face relax and slowly dissolve into a grin. "Well, Seven, I think you will need to extend your regeneration time for a while longer, but I think you are going to be fine." He deactivated the arms. "You will just need to be kind to yourself for a while." He helped her sit up and grinned toward his wife. "Looks like I'll get to sleep in my own bed tonight."

She grinned back and returned her attention to her work. Seven took a deep breath and turned her head from side to side. "Captain, the Doctor?"

Janeway took a breath and steeled herself. "We've had a little problem with the Doctor. Lieutenant Torres is working on his program now."

Seven slid off the biobed and walked unsteadily toward the center console, putting a hand on it to support herself. She stood silently, reading the monitor's display. Torres' eyes looked up toward the Captain, uncertain of what to do. Janeway gave her a slight nod, and B'Elanna started to talk, "His matrix destabilized. I tried rebuilding the program, but it was too corrupted. So, I have been rewriting it."

Seven frowned. "Destabilized?" She continued to read. "How?"

Janeway walked to them. "Seven, his program was damaged when they sent his program through the communication signal so he could care for you."

Seven's head shot up. "Explain."

"When Tom transported us off the Neobah colony, you were badly injured. We were hiding from the Neobahs and could not get back to Voyager. You were dying, Seven. Tom and I weren't able to provide you with the care you needed. The Doctor had them download his program and send him to us. He saved you, Seven. But, his program was damaged in the process."

Seven took a deep breath. "Lieutenant, how is your work progressing?"

B'Elanna stopped working and turned to fully face her. "It's coming very slowly. Rewriting his program is a massive undertaking." She crossed her arms. "I could use your help when you feel up to it."

"Of course." Her response was immediate. "I can start now if you like."

"No, Seven," interjected Tom, "I want you to take at least a day and let me monitor you. You also should eat something. If you don't mind, I'd like you to eat here and let me keep an eye on you, just to make certain you don't have any problems." When she started to protest, he cut her off. "Nope, I'm sorry. No disagreements." He waved a PADD at her. "Doctor's orders. The ones he left for me on how to take care of you." He grinned. "You must comply."

"I'll use the time to bring you up to date on what I've done." B'Elanna tried to give her a comforting smile. "It will make for an efficient use of our time."

Seven raised her head, jutting out her chin. "It is…an efficient plan." She turned to Tom. "I will comply."

"Good," he took her arm, leading her back to the biobed, "what would you like to eat?"



They worked silently, one writing, one testing, then trading jobs.

"Mommy, when is Papa Doc coming back?" Miral had pushed the Doctor's chair into the center of sickbay and was twisting in it.

"I don't know, sweetheart, but Mommy and Seven are working on him. We hope to bring him back soon."

"I miss Papa Doc."

"So do I, Miral."

Miral slid off the chair and walked up to Seven, looking almost straight up at her. "You don't like Papa Doc."

Seven stopped working and looked down at her. "No. I do like the Doc…Papa Doc."

"You not nice to him."

B'Elanna moved toward her daughter and leaned down. "Miral. That wasn't nice. Why would you say that to Seven?"

"She make Papa Doc sad. I don't like her, Mommy."

B'Elanna did not look back at Seven. "Miral, you are wrong. Seven likes the Doctor very much."

"But she made him sad."

"She didn't mean to if she did. Seven is working with me to bring back Papa Doc. She is working very hard." She picked her daughter up. "Now, you tell Seven you are sorry you said that."

Miral gave her a suspicious look, but said, "Sorry."

Seven nodded and B'Elanna put Miral back in the Doctor's chair. "Now, you sit there and behave."

"Yes, ma'am."

B'Elanna gave her a kiss on the cheek and returned to her work. After a moment, she said, "I'm sorry, Seven."

Seven did not respond, but lowered her head and concentrated on her work.

"Well," B'Elanna took half a step back from the console and turned to her companion, "I think it's time we try to bring him online."

"I agree." Seven was trying not to show how nervous she felt.

"I think we shouldn't bring up every subroutine," B'Elanna reached for the console, bringing up his parameters along side his matrix screen. "I'm going to leave most of his hobbies off line," she started to look up at Seven, but decided not to, "but I think I'm going to try to give him his singing subroutine. If we can bring him up successfully, I'll want to keep his program running for a while. Miral will probably want him to sing her a song. It'll upset him if he can't." Seven did not disagree, so B'Elanna took her silence as agreement.

They worked through the list, trying, as B'Elanna had suggested, to keep his program light, thinking it would be easier for them to bring on other subroutines after they were certain they had him running successfully.

"You are not bringing on most of his medical subroutines." Seven's voice held a curious tone to it.

"No, I'm not."

"But you are bringing on his emotional subroutines."

B'Elanna signed. She knew what Seven was asking. "Seven, I'm trying to bring back the Doctor." She turned to her, "He is much more than just a doctor. Those are 'skills.' I can easily add those back after we have worked the bugs out of his program. But, for his sake and to give him a reason to stay on line and continue to…'improve,' I want to try to bring him back with his spirit and personality. Knowing the Doctor, I think those things would be as important to him as his medical skills. He can relearn being a doctor fairly easily. Relearning being a sentient being would take a lot longer."

B'Elanna was shocked to see tears spring to Seven's eyes, but she just nodded and turned to the console. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"I guess the only thing for you to do is be here." When Seven turned her head to her with the question in her eyes, she continued, "I have tried to restore his memory file. He should remember everything that happened. It will be important for him to see you here – to know that you survived."

Seven's face softened, and she gave B'Elanna a grateful look.

"Okay," B'Elanna took a big breath. "Here goes."

His image came into view, faint at first, then growing more defined as he slowly solidified in front of then. He stood for a moment, then turned his head toward them, his eyes confused as his program processed through his subroutines, his memory files being accessed and activated. He blinked a number of times, then raised his hands to look at them, turning them over a few times before flexing his fingers. Dropping his hands, his eyes moved to Seven, focusing on her for a full minute. Finally, he broke the long silence.

"You are alive."

"Yes."

"Good." He continued to look at her, a frown coming over his face.

"What is it, Doctor?"

"I…I am trying to observe you, to assess your physical health," he was struggling for words, "but I am unable to do so."

B'Elanna stepped forward quickly, putting her hand on his arm. "Doctor, I did not bring all of your medical subroutines online. Don't be upset. There are a lot of subroutines I did not bring online. We'll work on those. Don't worry about it. I just want your program to run for a while before we do that."

"What happened to my program?"

"Well," she gave him a steady look, "it totally destabilized. Can you tell me the last thing you remember?"

His eyes moved to Seven, and he stared at her a few seconds before replying, "I remember everything, B'Elanna." His eyes never left Seven's face as he replied.

B'Elanna could feel their eyes on each other over her head. She squeezed his arm, drawing his look down to her. "Good, Doctor. I'm glad. Seven and I are going to work with you to bring all of your subroutines and programs back on line. First, though, we are going to let your program run for a couple of days and make adjustments to it. Right now, I would like to run through some tests with you. Do you think you are up to it?"

He straightened and looked around. "Well, I guess I am in the sickbay."

B'Elanna gave him a strange look, wondering about his logic subroutine, then saw him give her a tentative smile. She started laughing. It had been a joke. Not a good one, but a joke. That was a good sign.

They worked for the rest of the afternoon, running through numerous tests. After the last one, B'Elanna gave him a grin. "Not bad. Not bad. We have a few things to work out and," she picked up a PADD. "I have a list of areas I need to rework, but I think the news is really good."

"That's wonderful, B'Elanna."

"Papa Doc!"

They turned to see Tom walking through the sickbay doors with Miral in his arms. She had her arms held out to him, crying his name over and over. The Doctor gave B'Elanna a look, and she smiled and nodded at him. He reached for Miral, pulling the child into a tight embrace.

"Papa Doc! Papa Doc!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek.

"Miral, my little love. It is so good to see you."

She gave him a frowning, angry look. "You been gone too long."

"Well, I'm back now."

"You tuck me in tonight?"

B'Elanna stepped up to them. "Not tonight, sweetheart. Papa Doc has to stay in the sickbay."

The look turned from angry to worried. "You sick?"

B'Elanna put her hand on her daughter's back, "Yes. Papa Doc is sick. He has to stay here until he's well."

"You got fever?" She reached up to touch his forehead.

He smiled at her. "No, I don't have a fever. Don't worry about me, Miral. I'll be fine. I'll be able to tuck you in real soon."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He gave her a hug.

"Seven?"

At the sound of Tom's voice, they all turned to see Seven leaning over the console, her hands gripping the console, and her face turning white. Tom rushed to grab her before she could fall. He started scanning her immediately.

"I…am all right." She struggled to regain her composure.

Tom gave her a grim look. "When did you last regenerate?"

She frowned, reluctant to answer. "Approximately fifty hours ago."

B'Elanna stepped forward. "I thought you regenerated last night after we left here."

"I…wanted to examine some of the work I did yesterday."

"Seven," Tom's voice was firm, "I told you to be careful. You have to regenerate more than normal. Your body is still healing. You can't skip any of your regeneration time."

She straightened. "Of course. I should go regenerate now."

"I'll go with you." Tom deactivated the medical tricorder. Looking at his daughter he said, "Do you want to stay and visit some more with Papa Doc?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Okay. I'll be back in a few minutes." He kissed B'Elanna on the cheek, then kissed his daughter's. "Once I tuck Seven in, I'll be right back." He reached for Seven's arm, and she allowed him to pull her forward.

As she moved passed them, she risked a glance at the Doctor. He was looking at her, an odd expression on his face. The child in his arms tightened her grip on his neck and gave Seven a warning look. Seven dropped her head, relieved to be leaving the sickbay.

"So," B'Elanna spoke up quickly, trying to fill the awkward silence in the room, "why don't we go over those test results."

"I help."

"Of course," the Doctor put Miral on the floor and grabbed her hand, allowing her to lead him toward the center console. "We couldn't do this without you."

It was early. She walked from the cargo bay to the sickbay without meeting another crewmember. When the doors opened, she was surprised to see Lieutenant Torres, working at the console, her face screwed up in concentration. She glanced around, seeing the Doctor sitting in his chair in the center of sickbay, his hands on his knees, his eyes staring straight ahead. Walking toward him, she noticed he did not seem aware of her presence.

She moved past him and walked up to the console. "What is wrong, Lieutenant?"

"His program almost crashed. I barely got here in time."

Seven's breath caught in her throat. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure what happened, Seven. The computer alerted me in the middle of the night."

"You should have contacted me."

B'Elanna gave her a sympathetic look. "You needed to regenerate, Seven. You almost passed out in here yesterday." When Seven's eyes cut away from her, B'Elanna lowered her voice. "I was able to manage. If I had had problems, I would have called you."

After a moment, Seven asked, "What can I do to assist?"

B'Elanna picked up a PADD and handed it to her. "Check my work?"

"Of course." She took the PADD and immediately started to work.

"B'Elanna?"

They both stopped their work and turned to the Doctor. B'Elanna took a deep breath. "Yes, Doctor?"

"Where is Miral?"

"She's with Tom."

He nodded slowly, sitting back slightly in his chair. "Good. Good." He stood and walked into his office.

B'Elanna sighed, giving Seven a helpless look. "You are going to think I'm crazy, but I'm starting to think he wants his program to crash."

"Explain."

"Explain?" She gave an ironic laugh. "I can't explain it. I don't know, Seven." She put a hand on her hip. "I'm just tired. Tired and frustrated."

"Perhaps you should rest."

B'Elanna looked at the Doctor, aimlessly wandering around his office. "I probably should," she gave Seven a brave smile, "but I think I have a greater need to be here doing…something."

She lowered her head and started to work. Seven stood and stared at the Doctor in his office for a few minutes before raising the PADD in her hand and starting to read.

"Regeneration cycle incomplete."

She stepped out of her alcove, working to control her breathing. Stepping down, she hesitated only a second before walking out of the cargo bay. When she arrived at the sickbay, the lights were dimmed. He was sitting in his chair again, in the middle of sickbay.

"Doctor."

He turned slowly in her direction, blinking at her. "Hello, Seven." His voice was quiet, unemotional.

"How are you doing?"

"I am doing fine. And you?"

"I am well."

"Good, Seven." He gave her a small smile. "I am glad to hear it."

She walked over to the console, examining the display, looking for any sign of problems with his program. She frowned. Nothing looked wrong. She and the Lieutenant had been working for two days trying to find the reason his program had almost crashed, and they had never been able to identify anything wrong with his program. But, the Doctor was not functioning properly. That was obvious, but the reason for it was not. It had been a long, confusing couple of days. She sighed.

"What's wrong, Seven?" He walked up to her, his eyes almost worried.

She glanced down at the display, something catching her eyes. She felt him reach for her arm, gently taking her wrist.

"Do you feel all right?" He lifted her arm slightly. "Can I….?" His words stammered to a halt.

She looked into his eyes, then back to the display. "Yes, I am feeling…unwell. I was…hoping you would check me."

"Of course." He gave her a confused look.

When he stood uncertainly beside her, she said, "You should use the medical tricorder."

"Of course." He lifted the tricorder from the nearby tray and held it.

"Turn it on, Doctor."

"Of course." He activated it, and she took his arm and moved the scanner over her.

"Your diagnosis, Doctor."

He concentrated on the tricorder in his hands. After a moment, he answered, hesitantly, "I think everything is normal."

She smiled at him, careful to maintain eye contact with him. "Thank you, Doctor. That made me feel better."

He brightened. "Good. I am glad, Seven."

She chanced a quick glance at the display. Yes, there was a definite improvement in his program's functionality. That was the first time in a couple of days she had seen that. She looked back to him quickly. "I…I have been having trouble regenerating."

"Oh?"

"Yes, my regeneration has been interrupted by…unusual dreams."

He frowned again, struggling to form a question, but none came.

She was searching for the right words. His program was responding to her positively, but she was concerned that saying the wrong thing would cause it to crash. "I have been…bothered by what happened…with the Neobahs." Her voice choked off, and her eyes fearfully watched the displays. She felt him move closer to her. When she heard his voice, the softness of it caused her to look away from the display.

"That is understandable, Seven. What happened to you there was awful." He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. "I am glad you are talking to me about it. I knew it would bother you."

She brought her eyes up to his, seeing the warmth and concern in them. She watched as he turned his head, in his normal, Doctor way, and slowly leaned it toward her. "Would you like to talk about it?" She did not have to look at the display to know what was happening. His adaptive programming was coming online and starting to function. She turned her body to him, nodding her head. He smiled, his hand still on her shoulder. "Why don't we…." He looked around, unsure of what to say next. Confusion flickered over his face.

"Why don't we sit on this biobed?"

"Yes." The confusion disappeared, and the smile returned.

He assisted her onto the biobed, then sat down next to her. "Now, tell me what happened. And tell me how you felt about it."

She started talking, her eyes on his face. After a few minutes, she stopped watching for signs of his program crashing. She stopped looking to see if her words would confuse him. As she talked, his eyes focused, his face regained its character. She could see him following her words, understanding the feeling behind them, even as she spoke them without feeling. Soon, she was just talking. She was talking to her friend, the Doctor.

He nodded. He understood her words; he understood her feelings. He listened. When her words fell silent, he asked, "Why did you not protect yourself, Seven? Why did you not fight back?"

She took a deep breath and spoke, her voice barely audible, "I felt I deserved their justice."

He took her hand, wrapping it in both of his, "No one deserved that kind of treatment, especially not you. Seven, those people did not know you. They knew the Borg. They did not know you. You are not the Borg."

"I was Borg."

"But you aren't anymore." He reached up to touch her face, but drew his hand quickly away. His lips tightened. "Sorry." He cleared his throat. "Seven, you were Borg, but you have become a valuable individual. You have helped many people. You have tried to do good things since you were separated from the collective. Look at what you have done for Tuvok. You have saved his mind. That means you have saved him. If it was not for the Borg in you, we would not have the Tuvok we know with us today. Your life is valuable, Seven. You should never give up on it willingly. You have spent the last three years preparing yourself to give up your life. It's time for you to start fighting to get it back." He patted her hand and dropped his head. "It's been hard watching you give up life. When I heard you were injured, I knew…." He stopped.

"Knew what, Doctor?"

He shook his head.

She pressed him. "Tell me. Knew what?"

"I knew you would use that to give up your life."

She bit her lips.

"That's why I knew I had to be there. I knew if I could not get there, you would die. I had to get there to fight for you, because I knew you would not fight for yourself."

When she was able to reply, her voice cracked with her emotion, "But you had them send your program even though you knew it would probably be damaged." It was the question she had wanted to ask him from the beginning, but it was the question she had not been able to ask. Now, it came out of her mouth and she knew she could not stop it. "Why?"

He looked away from her, staying quiet for a long time. She dropped her head, thinking he would not answer her question. She was shocked when she finally heard his voice, his words almost spoken as a whisper.

"I had to. I knew I might not survive having my program sent, but I had to try to save you. If I hadn't, you would have died. And I knew I would not want to live without you in my life."

The sickbay fell totally silent, but they continued to sit, side by side on the biobed, her hand wrapped in his.



"Another one."

He laughed as Miral selected another PADD from her bag and handed it to him. He activated it and started reading.

As B'Elanna laughed and shook her head, Seven spoke, "He enjoys her."

"He has from the beginning, Seven. There were times after she was born that I thought I was going to have to fight him to be able to nurse her!"

Seven looked at her quickly, then realized the Lieutenant was joking. She allowed the corners of her mouth to turn up. "I'm surprised you were successful."

B'Elanna just laughed again, her eyes stealing a glance at the portable regenerator affixed to a nearby biobed. "So, how are you regenerating these days?"

Seven did not miss the questioning tone of her voice. "I am regenerating well, thank you."

B'Elanna shook her head and stood studying the results on the display, "Well, I'm not certain what you are doing, but, whatever it is, it's good medicine. His program is looking great."

Seven replied, her tone somewhat defensive, "I am only spending time with him."

B'Elanna did not allow herself to react. "I'm sorry, Seven. I wasn't implying anything. I only meant that you being here with him was good for him."

Seven gave her an apologetic look.

"Do you love me?"

They turned to see Miral sitting in the Doctor's lap, looking intently into his face.

"I certainly do."

"Do you love me most?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you love Mommy?"

"I certainly do."

"Do you love Daddy?"

"Yes."

Miral looked at Seven, her eyes narrowing. "Do you love her?"

The Doctor looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Yes."

An angry look came into her eyes. "Do you love her more than me?"

He stumbled in his response. "More? No, Miral, I don't love her more than you."

She frowned, then her eyes brightened. "Oh, you love her different."

"What?"

"Daddy loves Mommy and Daddy loves me, but he loves Mommy different!" She gave him a triumphant look, her child's mind suddenly figuring everything out. The Doctor did not allow himself to look at the two women standing near the console. She slid out of his lap and started walking toward them.

B'Elanna knew what was coming next. She wished for the ability to take her child and disappear.

Miral walked directly up to Seven and looked up to her. "You love Papa Doc?"

Everyone froze. Finally, Seven squatted down to look the child in the face, but she did not reply.

Miral cocked her head and put her hands on her hips, striking her mother's pose, and asked again, her face demanding an answer, "You love Papa Doc?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Miral examined her face. "But he loves me different."

"Yes."

The child stood in front of her, looking deeply in her eyes, almost testing her words. Finally, her face relaxed. "Okay." She turned and ran back to the Doctor, throwing herself in his arms.

The adults did not look at each other. The Doctor raised the PADD and started to read to Miral again.

The sickbay was dim. They walked around, not quite able to look at each other. Finally, the Doctor turned to her. "Seven, about what Miral said this afternoon…."

"It was the truth."

"What?"

She turned to him. "I do love you."

"Seven?" He wanted to ask, but he could not bring himself to. She answered anyway.

"I love you as a friend."

"Oh. Of course." He gave her a brave smile. "I love you as a friend, also."

She cut her eyes away from him. "But, I think I also love you…different." She turned away from him. "My feelings are confusing."

He started to step toward her, then stopped himself. He wanted to say something to her, but he could not think of anything to say.

She turned to him. "I have had feelings for you for a long time. I knew after Chakotay and I…after we were no longer together." She took a breath. "I knew then that the way I felt for you was different from the way I felt for anyone else. My feelings frightened me. I could not understand them."

"You should have talked to me." He saw the expression on her face and bowed his head. "Of course you couldn't." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I let you down, Seven."

"No," she turned quickly to face him, "you did not let me down. The failure was mine. I could not tell you. I…."

Suddenly, he knew. He walked up to her and took her hands, holding them close to his chest. "You knew I loved you. You knew that, if you told me how you felt, I would want a relationship with you. And, you knew you were going to die." He tightened his grip on her hands. "It's the same reason you broke things off with Commander Chakotay."

She lowered her head, nodding it as she did.

He dipped to look her in the eyes. "But, you are alive, Seven. And it is time for you to start living again." He paused. "I need to ask you something." She raised her eyes to look at him. He gave her a warm smile. "Do you still love Chakotay?"

Her face went blank. He tightened his smile. "I would be okay with that, Seven. If you still loved him. And, if you do, you should go to him and tell him. Loving someone is too precious to let that love escape you, Seven."

He waited. It seemed like a lifetime. Finally, she spoke, "I am where I want to be."

"Good morning."

"Papa Doc!"

Their greetings blended together as B'Elanna walked through the sickbay doors, carrying her daughter in her arms. As soon as she got close enough, Miral reached her arms for the Doctor, giving him a hug.

"You feel better?"

"Yes, I do, my little love. I am feeling wonderful."

B'Elanna's eyes moved back and forth between the Doctor and Seven, but she did not say anything. Instead, she walked over to the console and started examining the Doctor's program. "Well, this is good news."

"What, B'Elanna?"

"Your program is running at seventy-three percent efficiency. That's almost twice what it has been running." She gave him a pointed look. "I'd say things have really improved."

Seven busied herself at another console, and the Doctor gave B'Elanna a grin. B'Elanna risked a glance at Seven, then gave the Doctor an approving look. She turned her attention back to the console.

"So, Doctor, are you ready to get back to work on your program?"

"Absolutely. I'd like to try to get some of my medical skills back."

"Okay, let's see what we can do."

"I help." Miral reached out to touch the Doctor's forehead as if checking him for a fever.

"Of course."

"Papa Doc?"

"What, Miral?"

"Do you love me?"

"Yes, I do."

"Do you love Mommy?"

"I certainly do."

"Do you love Daddy?"

He laughed, "Yes."

She turned her head toward Seven. "Do you love her?"

Seven turned to look at them.

"Yes," he said to Miral, a soft look coming in his eyes.

Miral looked back and forth between the Doctor and Seven. "You love her different."

He did not hesitate. "Yes, Miral, I do."

Her eyes narrowed as she continued to look between the two of them. "But you love me best."

He hesitated, his eyes locked on Seven, suddenly growing worried. But Seven smiled at him and gave him a slight nod of her head. The worry disappeared from his eyes and a smile spread across his face. "Absolutely, I love you best."

The End.