Good Samaritans

Voyager after her contact with the Destrons takes an opportunity for repair and recuperation. Captain Janeway discovers a problem and offers passage to some refugees. Seven of Nine receives an unpleasant surprise.

Voyager and the characters aboard her (except the Colonel and additional characters) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead.

The story line and the Colonel are my own.

Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail story@rgower.plus.com

If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway.

This story is rated PG13

©R Gower 2002


Captains Personal Log. Voyager will enter orbit over an uninhabited planet within the next four hours. I hope that we will finally manage to replenish our stocks of Dilithium and other minerals from the abundant supplies that were detected by Astrometrics. It should also give us the opportunity to complete the repairs to the ship after the Destrons acts of vandalism and even get some of the shore leave we desperately need.

The Doctor has also advised that Tuvok's self healing trance has achieved the impossible. The damage to his spine has been repaired. All that needs to be done is rouse him from unconsciousness, Captain Janeway was trying to be upbeat with her logs, hoping it would improve her mood which was best described as dire. She was not deliberately lying to them, she told herself confidently, after all that would be lying to herself and she would never be able to look herself in the mirror if she did that. She was just not elucidating her true feelings over the level of betrayal she was the victim of.

Chakotay knew there was no way she could involve herself whilst they were in the Delta Quadrant, even the Colonel had agreed that! She thought. It damaged the Commanders ability to put people she cared for into danger if necessary. But he did know she was fond of him. How could he get involved with a very junior ensign barely half his age!

The attachment between Ensign Abbott and the Commander, was now seen too often in public for his claim that there was nothing between them to be true. It was an outright lie. She knew Maqui could lie, that was why they were terrorists. That thought brought her up short. Her own thoughts had gone too far. She had trusted Chakotay for years. He had been her closest friend as they had battled their way through the Delta Quadrant. She could no more think of him as a Maqui than as an enemy.

She was going to have to get used to it, she told herself. She had given up so much else for her ship and crew, Chakotay was going to have to be another.

With a sigh she tugged at her jacket to get it straight and headed for the door.


I intend to wake Commander Tuvok gently, the Doctor announced to the Captain in the Sick Bay. I do not want the Colonel to cause as much damage as has been repaired, he added, as if to explain the soldiers absence. I have produced a stimulant that will have the desired effect without physical abuse.

And if gentle doesn't work the Doctors added a mean backhand to his programme, Tom Paris sniped cheerfully.

It will not be necessary, the Doctor bit. It is against my ethical routines to cause more damage than I have repaired!

Get on with it, Doctor, the Captain snapped in irritation, preventing an elongated discussion on one of the Doctors favoured topics.

The Doctor gave a pained expression that said all he thought about that comment and placed his hypospray against Tuvok's neck.

I'll go and find the Colonel, Shall I? Tom Paris suggested after five minutes of nothing happening. I don't think the spray is working.

It will just take a little time to work, the Doctor argued, checking his tri-corder. The spray was not strong enough for such an extended coma. I will increase the number of endorphines in the spray. He busied himself replicating a new batch of his spray.

He was about to apply it when Tuvok whispered quietly. I require the external stimulus of pain to regain bodily functions. Hit me!

I can't do that! The Doctor protested.

Hit me! Tuvok insisted.

Silently the Captain pushed past the Doctor and delivered a swinging slap across Tuvoks face.

Again. Harder!

Six times the Captain struck, each time putting more effort into the blow at Tuvoks continued insistence, until his hand grasped her wrist.

Treatment has been completed, Captain, Tuvok declared evenly, now fully awake. I will be available for duty shortly.

Only after I am satisfied you have recuperated, the Doctor interrupted. I doubt you will be able to walk for a while. You will have to learn how again.

Welcome back. I don't need you yet, the Captain grinned in relief, nursing her bruised hand. But tomorrow will be good. She turned and marched crisply for the exit feeling a lot more relaxed. Strangely it was not entirely due to the prospect of the return of her Chief of Security.

She had not reached the door before the Doctor stopped her. I need a word in private, Captain.

Oh, what about? She asked cautiously.

The Doctor led her into his office before replying. I'm worried about a number of the crew, Captain. Not least, you.

There is nothing wrong with me! The Captain protested.

You are displaying the symptoms of excessive strain, the Doctor retorted. I am instructing you to take a few days holiday, whilst we have the opportunity.

I can't spare the time! She protested more vigourously.

Ensign Kim with Commander Tuvok's guidance can look after the ship, the Doctor observed. I am also ordering Commander Chakotay to take the opportunity as well.

I can't take the time off while Chakotay is off! The Captain argued.

It is either that or I will record you as both incapable of duty, Captain, the Doctor threatened. Four days complete break from the ship will do you both good, perhaps you should go together.

You've been talking to the Colonel? She challenged.

I have the combined knowledge of four hundred years of Starfleet medical histories, the Doctor argued. I didn't need him to tell me there is something wrong!

He did offer to help, he added more circumspectly. He said he would kidnap you if you refused my medical order, or it was necessary.

What did he have in mind? She queried in sudden concern. She could imagine the sort of things the Colonel would do.

I think he was suggesting some form of activity weekend, the Doctor suggested. A few quick route marches, climb a few cliffs. The sort of thing he thinks is natural?

The Captain blanched at the threat. It'd kill me! I'll take some days off, she offered. But I want to be kept in constant contact with the ship.


What do you want, Colonel? B'Elanna Paris snapped as she hurried from panel to panel in Engineering, trying to keep the warp engines ticking over, whilst nursing her last Deuterium crystal. I haven't time for anything now. We're going to be on Emergency Power within a day or two. Besides I thought you were supposed to be waking Tuvok?

Commander Tuvok was an invitation only affair to which I wasn't invited. I wanted to ask a favour, please, Ma'am? The Colonel said hopefully.

What favour? B'Elanna demanded suspiciously.

I'd like to ask you to ensure Mrs Nine rests properly, whilst I'm playing nursemaid downstairs. Please? He begged. I would've asked Mr Neelix, but you're one of a very few people on the ship she listens to, after the Captain. Mr Neelix isn't.

She doesn't listen to me too often, B'Elanna grinned, pausing in her struggles for a moment to look up. Unless we're arguing. Why aren't you taking her with you.

I assure you she does, Ma'am. She tells me about your discussions in great detail, the Colonel encouraged with a smile. As for coming with me. I don't think the portable is upto the job anymore, I swear she's put an extra six inches on her waist. Certainly the Doctor doesn't think it is. So. Please, Lieutenant?

B'Elanna gave in to the childish pleading. I'll try, she agreed. I'll even try and find something for her to do sitting down. Something like the Transwarp Coil.

I wish you luck with that, the Colonel opined. I usually have to hold her down. But I thank you from the bottom of my heart.


Seven of Nine was less certain about the Colonel's arrangements when, her regeneration cycle finished, she stepped from her booth to be met by the Colonel and a mug of her specially sweetened tea.

Just the right temperature, he declared approvingly holding out the mug to her. I thoroughly approve of Borg clockwork. Even if the Doctors regeneration routine wrecks havoc with my sex life and I don't get the chance to experience 'him' kicking properly!

She accepted and sipped it gratefully. The drink was technically a breach of the rules she had set for him to prove her independence, but her mouth was dry and she had yet to overcome the desire for excessive sweetness.

It has been kicking during regeneration? She asked, a tinge of disappointment marking her voice. She had been tracing her pregnancy's progress with acute interest, cataloguing each new facet of the experience in minute detail. Much to the general amusement of the crew.

Saw it a couple of times from my bed, the Colonel admitted pointing towards a thin roll of blankets.

Her eyes followed the finger. You have been using the Cargo Bay as sleeping quarters? She demanded. It is in contravention to our agreement.

Only when I couldn't sleep. Besides you might have needed me, the Colonel protested, removing the empty cup from her hand to permit an embrace. Good morning, Sweetheart! If you get any bigger around the waist I won't be able to reach! He whispered as he kissed, then flinched. Well if you didn't feel that one. I certainly did! To object that strongly it must be a girl! Brutal little thing!

My waist has expanded 2.3mm during regeneration, Seven of Nine declared with certainty. I fail to see how its unconscious actions can be indicative of its sex?

Because the fair sex are by far the cruellest, the Colonel quipped. This one is proving it by kicking its poor father. Now, I have been volunteered to look after the landing party and ensure the Captain spends a little time off the ship whilst repairs are made.

I will collect my equipment, Seven of Nine announced simply, interrupting the Colonel's flow and moving for the door. You will require protection from the Captain. She will be upset if she is required to spend time from the ship. You have observed that females are more dangerous than males and you do not defend yourself well against the Captain.

Hold hard! You're not coming! Not this time! The Colonel protested. You aren't fully right after the last time and it almost gave the Doctor kittens.

The Doctor cannot breed. He is a hologram, She reminded him patiently.

The Colonel rolled his eye's in exasperation. I know. But if he could. You would have had him knee deep in the drated things. Fortunately I wasn't aware of anything, or the pile would have been much larger.

Besides, you can't walk far and I fully intend to be back for the evenings. Lieutenant Paris does have something she needs your help with though, he added slyly. The Captain wants to use the Transwarp coil without it burning out our stock of crystals. Lieutenant Paris is wondering if we could rewire it for more range and less greed?

Seven of Nine snapped. If tampered with it will fail.

That's why you've been volunteered, the Colonel grinned. It'll stop you getting into trouble.

I believe there is a passage in your bible that reads, 'Remove the log from your own eye, before removing the speck from your brothers'. You also require protection from trouble! Seven of Nine snapped.

The statement stunned the Colonel. What makes you think I'm not trying to? He demanded, more sharply than he had the right to. I'm trying not to spend my time worrying about your safety. It might mean I won't walk blindly into mine!

Besides there is a difference, he added more contritely. I'm paid to get into and out of trouble. You're not.

The difference is immaterial, Seven opined stoutly. Monetary payments are no longer made.

Think of the size of the cheque, the Colonel grinned. I could retire!

His face fell again at Seven's glare. She had a bee in her bonnet and it's sting was aimed firmly at him for unwarranted protection.

the Colonel tried pleading gently. You know there is nobody in this ghastly Universe I would want beside me more than you. Especially if things became tight. In the same breath, there is nobody I want to keep safer. It gives me something to come back for. Especially as you are going to have our child. You know you aren't up to tramping around hills. But you can do something more important for our friends, helping them to get home. So please humour me?

Seven of Nine remained tight-lipped as she passed him. But turned dutifully towards Engineering as she left the Cargo Bay. The Colonel sagged and heaved a heartfelt sigh of relief. Their arguments were few and far between and he hated even those. This had been the closest to a blazing row he could remember since Cathor. This one would have to be paid for at some point, he knew, but it would save for a time he felt more up to the punishment.


Ensign Abbott also had plans for planet fall. All she needed was agreement from a senior officer. She had managed to trap Chakotay into conversation for that very purpose.

There are some indications of there having been and ancient settlement, Sir, she informed Chakotay proudly. I thought we could take a look? It would give us some purpose for time away from the ship?

It sounds like a good idea. I'm glad you are volunteering for something, Chakotay confided. I'll have a word with Ensigns Traith and Gomez. They are into that sort of work as well.

Abbott's face fell. I was hoping you would give me your anthroplogical expertise, she said. I know you're fascinated by ancient civilisations and it might be fun?

It was Chakotay's turn for a change of face. It took on a hunted look. I would like to, he admitted. Alien cultures always have a lot to offer, even extinct ones. But the Captain has been instructed to take some time off. I can't leave the ship if she's down there.

The Captain won't notice, Abbott voiced her opinion with some disgust. She trusts Tuvok and the Colonel more than you. The only reason she hasn't made him second officer is because she's scared he might take over.

It's not like that, Chakotay protested.

Isn't it? She demanded. Well perhaps not the Colonel. All he cares about is Seven of Nine. They say he threatened to kill B'Elanna Paris, if he tried to do something he didn't agree with. You're better than him and the Captain just uses you.

There was a pregnant pause. Abbott went scarlet as she realised she had gone to far in her outburst.

I love you, she tried pleading. I want to be with just you. And I don't want to hide it anymore.

I'll pay a visit, Chakotay agreed stonily.

He turned sharply on his heel and walked away, shaken to the core by what he had heard.


One glance was all it took to have the Colonel sling his rifle across his back after beaming down. I don't think even you could get into trouble here, Mr Kim, he offered the Ensign cheerfully. This place is about as placid as the Downs on Earth. So if you'll forgive me, Sir. I'll join Mr Neelix's foraging party.

Harry Kim grinned weakly. he agreed. The Colonel often teased him over his 'accidents' during away missions. Not without some cause, it had to be admitted. Whilst the Colonel could hop from tussock to tussock with the assurity of a mountain goat and cling to a shear rock face like a limpet. He, Harry Kim, was always the one that missed and sank into mud, or found the single loose rock, that could bring down a cliff whenever he tried to keep up. When Kim had tried to jibe back at the Colonel's own lack of prowess, they had always rebounded as the Colonel had nodded solemnly in agreement and declared, 'That is why we have you, Mr Kim.' Kim was sure there was a response to that simple agreement, but he had yet to find it.

I'll let you know when the Captain makes her appearance? He offered.

Just send her up to that ridge, the Colonel laughed pointing towards a ridge about a mile from the work site. Tell her if I see her trying to get there, or she doesn't see me coming, she carries my pack home.

I couldn't! Kim spluttered.

She will be upset to find she's lost before she knew the rules because the beach officer bottled out, the Colonel observed. I'll ask Ensign Patel to pass the information on, shall I?

I'll tell her, Kim accepted quickly.


Shouldn't you be regenerating, Seven?

Seven of Nine straightened painfully from the transwarp coil that had been placed on the bench for her to work on before turning to face the worried frown of the Chakotay.

My activities were interrupted, Seven excused. Regeneration would require me to undo the modifications I have made. It would be inefficient.

I also wished to apologise to the Colonel regarding our argument before regeneration, Seven of Nine added quietly.

You and the Colonel arguing! I don't believe it! Chakotay exclaimed in surprise.

Public arguments between Seven and the Colonel were almost unheard of, even those rarely lasted more than a few minutes and never amounted to more than a couple of sharp words. That there could be one that was potentially still ongoing was astounding. The Chakotay looked on the ex-Borg with renewed interest. Perhaps there was some discord in perfect harmony after all.

We have disagreements, Commander, Seven of Nine chided. We prefer to resolve them quickly.

But you didn't this time, Chakotay prompted.

I wished to join him in his duties on the planet. He refused to accept me, Seven of Nine explained. I believed he was trying to be over protective.

Her eyes cast down at her growing stomach. I was in error. The baby has caused me to be disfunctional three times.

And it is vital you impart this apology before regenerating? Chakotay asked in amusement.

Seven of Nine was adamant in her response. A positive resolution removes an uncertainty and is desirable. Perhaps you should try it with the Captain?

The snipe made Chakotay change the subject quickly. Well as he isn't here. Perhaps you can confirm a rumour I've heard?

I heard the Colonel threatened B'Elanna?

Seven agreed. It was when we were aboard Valoria. Before we were captured. Lieutenant Paris became agitated and wished to attempt an immediate rescue. The Colonel believed it was impossible at that point.

The point is documented in his report to the Captain, she added in mild surprise.

How could he. They are friends! the dumbfounded Chakotay blurted. The Captain had not shown him the report.

Seven of Nine shrugged as if the question was irrelevant, but relented when Chakotay caught her arm.

You have often commented that his training has made him not unlike the Borg in many aspects, she said calmly. You are correct. If a drone is found to be a danger to the Collective it is terminated. If the situation dictated such an action necessary, he would terminate somebody under his command. The target would be irrelevant, if it lead to the successful completion of a mission. It is logical and efficient.

And in this case the mission was the safety of Seven of Nine, he suggested sourly, suddenly feeling a lot less safe.

I believe I may have been a secondary factor, Seven admitted. The primary objective was the rescue of Voyager. All others were secondary to that requirement. He risked his life to enable Lieutenant B'Elanna Paris to escape.

Could he have done it? Chakotay asked in desperation. I need to know for the safety of this crew!

The safety of this crew is also his goal, Commander, Seven of Nine opined. I believe he would take measures to protect the greater number from whatever the source of danger, even friends.


The Colonel had not been surprised by the Captains failure to appear during the morning. Nor was he particularly concerned. It gave him the opportunity to ponder undisturbed, as he lay in the pleasant sun, watching the herd of creatures graze in the valley below his ridge top vantage point. They were not unlike antelope or, perhaps, Bison from Earth he decided, if a little larger at, he guessed about 800Kg. The only real difference was a third horn, that stood about 600mm from the centre of their foreheads.

Much of his thought was old ground. His arrival in the Delta Quadrant, Voyager and her crew. His whirlwind romance with Seven of Nine. Its effect upon him, especially now he was about to become a father. It made him think of his future, or distinct lack of it. The probability of his child never knowing his father was all too real. There was too little else he could do, other than stand in front of trouble. Sooner or later his prodigious luck would run out. Destron had proven that to him. Why? Because he had worried about surviving, not trying to extradite himself and his friends from trouble. It had almost resulted in both his execution and Seven of Nine's slavery.

He regarded the gently rolling landscape with more thought, until the thin buzz of a transporter made him glance around.

Better late than never, Ma'am. But beaming here could be regarded as cheating, he observed with a grin as the Captain appeared. Still there is tea in the pot, but you've missed lunch. He nodded affably at a small camp kettle steaming gently over his Cathor sword.

I couldn't get away. B'Elanna has engineering crews working on the transporters, so they aren't fully operational, the Captain excused as she knelt beside the Colonel. What have you been up to all this time?

You didn't want to get away, the Colonel corrected reproachfully. As for me. I've been watching the locals and making plans I will never see come to fruition.

The Captain queried lightly. You had better explain.

The Colonel grinned. Apart from the meat and whatever eats them, this place reminds me of the Cotswolds, he admitted. Rolling pastures, sheltered little valleys even the copse across the mouth of the valley. I was planning to build my farmhouse down there, just off the stream. He pointed into the valley. With an orchard behind, with a press for cider. And a sty and hen house, plus a couple of barns. All built with proper stone. Of course, I'd probably have to make do with thatch for the roof, until I could quarry enough shingles. But even that would come from my own fields of corn.

Then on a beautiful evening like this. I could sit in my garden, arm around my beautiful wife, as my children played around us and say 'I have achieved something in my miserable life. Somewhere to say I belong', he sighed wistfully. I'm fed up with running from place to place, Ma'am. Snatching rest and little comforts where they appear, whilst waiting for the next Fuzzy to have a crack. I want somewhere that is mine.

Sounds idyllic, the Captain agreed with a grin. Do you know anything about farming?

That's where it all falls down of course, the Colonel admitted sadly. I know as much about real agriculture as I do about spaceships. Plus, I wouldn't be happy scattering the first seed until Mrs Nine was ready to hang up her exploring boots. But a chap can dream.

It would be safe and you would be bored, the Captain teased. I don't think you could cope.

Well, scythes are sharp, it is possible to be savaged by sheep and pigs and geese can do some nasty things, the Colonel admitted. But on the whole, I think it would be safe. I'd be prepared to give boredom a chance.

We'll start looking for a suitable place for your farm, the Captain offered brightly.

Don't tease, the Colonel sighed. Voyager is years from home yet, so even if we found somewhere, I would probably never find it again. Besides Mrs Nine won't be happy as a farmers wife for many years yet.

Well perhaps you can discus it before Seven regenerates. It's nice to know you want something from your future, the Captain suggested. Now what were you planning for me?

The Colonel grinned. How about producing some real meat for Mr Neelix's barbecue tomorrow? Then we won't be victim to Leola Root Sausages again? He nodded at the herd steadily grazing 200 metres away. I think we need the cooperation of one of those chaps down there. Perhaps the one closest to the trees. It doesn't look too old and there is no calf that is going to lack a mother.

You want me to go and nag it to death? the Captain suggested in amusement. I haven't got my phasor.

Don't need it, the Colonel grinned, passing her his bolt action rifle.

I've never fired a projectile weapon, the Captain admitted. She took it as if she expected it to explode in her hands, before examining it carefully.

No worries, Ma'am. Rule of thumb, if you can see the eyes, you can kill it. And the 303 is one of the finest weapons ever created for the job. Now lay down comfortable, bring the butt to the shoulder, and support the barrel with your left hand, he instructed. Make sure it is firm against the shoulder, or we'll be looking for a medivac, he grinned at her scowl as she slid into the position ordered. You should find the trigger a comfortable reach for your right index finger and the rest wrap neat around the neck, your thumb sits over the top?

The Captain nodded.

Good. Leave the trigger alone for a minute, he recommended. Look down the sights, line up the points of the screws in the gate with the notch at the barrel. You're aiming for a point between its ears and eyes.

Don't close your left eye, he chastised as she squinted. Got it?

The Captain nodded carefully, trying not move.

I'll make a rifleman of you yet, the Colonel jested. Now take a deep breath and let it right out again.

She complied unquestioningly.

Now a half breath and hold it. Make sure everything is still aligned and very gently squeeze the trigger. Don't jerk!

The sharp crack and echo as the weapon discharged startled her. She jerked up to try and see the results of her shot through the thin veil of smoke, to be stopped by the Colonel gently resting his foot on her back.

No time for that, he chided. Work the bolt. Lift and pull to eject the case and bring the next one into the spout. Quick, or you won't get another round off.

You won't need it though, he admitted settling down beside her again. It was a good shot. We can collect it in a few minutes, when the rest have settled again. But in the Rifles I'd expect fifteen of those a minute, including reloads.

It can't be done! The Captain protested rubbing her shoulder gently. The recoil had felt like a hammer blow, despite her best efforts to hold the weapon as firmly as the Colonel had recommended.

Nor can driving a ship 70,000 light years across space, or so I'm told, Ma'am, the Colonel opined quietly. I know the first is possible, because I can do it and some of my chaps could do twice that. I'm not so sure about the second at the moment.

The Captain demanded.

Because the Commanding Officer can't make a decision, Ma'am.

It's not a difficult one, the Colonel chided in the face of the Captains openly hostile and questioning glare. Yes or No. There is no 'may be' involved. If you don't make it now, then there is going to be trouble and the you could lose your ship because of it.

Who to. You or Chakotay? The Captain snapped.

Who drives Voyager is of no concern to me, Ma'am. If I trust him I will serve.

Or you will kill him, like you threatened B'Elanna?

Wouldn't be the first, the Colonel agreed. But no, I'm not going to kill anybody for that, it's not in my orders. It won't be Commander Chakotay that takes control either. If the Captain isn't seen to trust him, nobody else will.

He stiffened. What the devil! Oy! That's my dinner! He leapt to his feet and charged down the slope, leaving the Captain confused and hurt.

Cautiously she peered after him. The next moment she was also on her feet, chasing the flying soldier, slapping her communicator as she did so. There were two figures pulling at the carcass of the antelope she had shot fifteen minutes earlier. They glanced in surprise at the charging Colonel, then shambled back into the trees. But it was not their actions that caused her alarm. It was what they were.

Janeway to Voyager! She gasped as she ran after the soldier. I want a security team down here to cover a tactical withdrawal of all landing parties. There are Borg on the planet!

The Colonel was more than halfway to his thieves before they looked up and allowed him to see the Borg accessories clearly. Even then it did not register on his brain until he had cut that distance by half again. Then he realised that apart from the heavy knife, that always sat against his back, he was unarmed. The sword he had removed to make it easier to lay down and the rifle was still with the Captain.

If they had been anybody else, the fact that they were in open flight would have been comforting. That was the goal in charging down the hill, screaming. The Borg, in his experience, were too stupid to run, unless they had another reason. Like gathering more drones.

It prompted him to leap the carcass and continue the chase into the woods, the enemy still 30 metres ahead.

Reality struck him before he had been amidst the trees for more than a few minutes. Forests are not the best of places to track an enemy, especially at full flight and this one was no exception. Thick undergrowth hides your quarry, often for dangerous seconds at a time. Lifting roots, even fallen and rotting trees are always present to trip the unwary and low branches are waiting to blind the chaser as they snap back after being pushed past. All connive to hide worse dangers. He stopped and turned back. Problems with Borg were better settled on his own terms.

The dangers of traps and nature were not factors that passed through Captain Janeway's mind as she also charged into the woods. Only that the Colonel had disappeared and her own pursuit of him and her enemies.

Thus it was that when the smaller of the two Borg erupted from a bush less than three metres in front of her, leapt over a small log and disappeared again through another bush with a crash, the Captain dived after it. Only then did she realise the scale of her error as she found herself falling into a pit formed by a fallen tree. Even that would not have been serious, except as she landed, her foot caught between the remains of giant roots and twisted as she continued to topple forwards onto her face and over the prone figure of the Borg she was chasing. Desperately she flung her arms out to save herself further harm, then it did not matter. Her head caught a knotted root and things went black.


Chakotay had not intended in taking up Llinos Abbott's invitation to help investigate the site she had found. The discussion with Abbott, Seven of Nine's offhand admission and acceptance of the Colonel's actions had rattled him. The fact that Kathryn had not shown him the Colonel's report as she usually did, so that he knew about the accusation against the Colonel and the truth behind it, suggested that there was something in Abbott's words. It had unsettled him. Now he wanted some friendly and sympathetic company, even if it was obsessive Abbott.

She greeted his arrival with a happy smile and an embrace that had him blushing until the tattoo on his forehead almost vanished.

I'm so glad you came! She laughed. I was right. There was a settlement here. But we can't agree if it was Iron Age or Bronze. I've found some clinker, but it carries traces of everything. The tri-corders show what may have been a wooden defensive wall around an earth embankment. And the footings for huts.

It's usually easier to find a burial mound, Chakotay recommended. Most of these old cultures, like my own people, believed in some form of reincarnation. So they create tombs for their dead and fill them with things that may be of benefit in the afterlife. Still I'll have a look at what you've got.

It was about an hour later that the Captains warning came through to him, along with the Colonels admission that he had lost the Captain and wanted a search team and the advice that it would be an hour before a security team could be prepared. He took a glance around at the worried faces that surrounded him and came to his own decision.

Talking to him or not, the Captain was in trouble and he had a team that could help. Unlike most of the landing parties, ostensibly involved in collecting food, this one had come down with the intention of staying a couple of days. Consequently they had arrived with provisions and phasors.

Voyager, where is the Colonel? he demanded. Transport us to him.

I don't want to become a Borg for her! Abbott hissed in alarm. And we aren't security! Let the Colonel do it!

Further conversation was rendered pointless as the transporter was activated.


Where are they? Chakotay demanded as he and his worried party materialised beside the Colonel. He was kneeling over the fallen antelope and watching the woods suspiciously.

She followed them in there, he said, waving the general direction. But nobody has come out.

So we go in? Chakotay asked.

We can't go in there! Ensign Abbott squeaked in horror. It could hide a cube full of Borg! We wouldn't stand a chance!

Colonel glared at her.

When the Colonel needs tactical advice from you Ensign, he'll ask, Chakotay snapped angrily.

But he wants you to go and look for the Captain, Abbott wailed in despair. You will get killed!

As it is I agree with you on every count except one, Ensign, the Colonel admitted. In there every shadow can hide an enemy. It can even catch out old timers like me. It is not the place for amateurs. So I'm not intending to take you. If you want something to do then keep an eye on this. He kicked the carcass at his feet.

Chakotay asked cautiously.

I don't know why, Sir. But it was worth them trying to take it, even though they knew somebody else had killed it. If they think it is unprotected they'll try again.

Chakotay looked at the body dubiously. And if they don't? He could see no reason for the Borg wanting an antelope, dead or otherwise.

Given the chance, they'll come, the Colonel asserted. When they do, you can follow them. I suggest you watch from the ridge.

Now I have an hour before it gets too dark to see properly, he continued. I can use that to find where the Captain went. Sir! The Colonel snapped a salute, turned for the forest.

For a moment Chakotay watched the Colonel march away, lost with his concerns of inadequacy.

Then, "Colonel, wait. I'm coming with you," he called. "I don't want you to forget what we are after. The return of the Captain."

"I know my duty, Sir!" The Colonel bridled at the implied criticism. "I'm not intending to cut a bloody swathe, unless the Borg object violently. Still I'm sure the Captain will be pleased to see you and I daresay you can find her trail quicker than I."

Finding the Captains trail into the woods took them slightly less than thirty minutes, then barely another ten to follow it to where she had fallen.

Chakotay's father had taught him to track prey as a child in the tribal homelands. There it had been a patient search for tell tale signs. The signs of rapid transit here were easier to follow than those of small animals, yet Chakotay was still surprised that the Colonel barely glanced at them after he had found the first few, to be able to lead them forward at a smart pace. Whatever the reason for the Colonel's acceptance for his presence it was not as base as tracking the Captain.

"Home turf. Remember?" The Colonel pointed out easily as they breasted the edge of the hollow in which the Captain had fallen. "If you will forgive me. I'll have a poke around in here. If the Captain went over that tree trunk as fast as it looked, then I doubt she walked out of this hole."

Chakotay was less than inclined to argue as he watched the Colonel slide in.

The Colonel's discarded rifle was immediately obvious amidst the mess of broken roots that festooned the bottom and he picked it up and examined it carefully, before commencing a more thorough search.

Eventually he looked up. I'd say the Captain is alive, Sir, he reported quietly, holding up a scrap of cloth to examine. There was a Borg here as well and both were hurt. There was no struggle. I reckon both have been carried out.

And you are going to tell us who they were and where they went? Chakotay asked dryly.

A blindman can follow whoever took them, the Colonel agreed. Whoever he was, he was built like a tank. He didn't pass through bushes, he flattened them.

So you have your answer, what now?

The Colonel thought for a moment, then looked up at the gathering darkness. I'm going to follow the trail in the dark, he said thoughtfully. You're welcome to come, or not, as you wish. But I'm not waiting for heavy artillery from the ship.

"I'm coming," Chakotay declared without hurriedly.

The Colonel looked at him sharply. "The Captain will be safe, Sir!" He assured the Commander carefully. "This isn't your field of work and it could be dangerous for the second in command of the ship if we go wrong."

"What are you suggesting, Colonel?" Chakotay demanded. "That Kathryn might be dead?"

"I'm thinking worse than that, Sir," the Colonel refuted solemnly. "The Borg took her. The only reason to do that is if her injuries were repairable. It means they may have converted her by now."

"You would kill her!" Chakotay exclaimed in alarm.

"What do you think?"

Not waiting for an answer the Colonel set off down the new trail. Chakotay put an answer to the question in his mind and set off after him at the run.

The trail ended in a small clearing at the base of a cliff. Both men ducked behind the bushes as they peered out. Less than fifty metres away from their hiding place stood the open maw of a cave. In its opening stood two Borg drones.

The Colonel whistled under his breath. "The one on the left is the size of a house! Must be more than two yards tall and nearly that wide!"

"Well we can't leave Kathryn there!" Chakotay protested, suddenly impatient.

The Colonel examined the larger Borg carefully. "I think the big chap is something akin to Borg heavy armour," he muttered. "Look. His armour panels must be over an inch thick, you can see the jointing. I doubt I can take him out without armour piercing rounds and I haven't got any. Can't Voyager locate her and beam her away now we know where she is?" The Colonel questioned.

Chakotay shook his head. "They won't be able to focus on her without a communicator to identify her."

The Colonel sighed. "Give me a couple of minutes. I'll try and lead those two away before trying to take them out. It will give you a chance to get in.

"With that he thrust himself out from behind the bush and ran towards the two drones. Reaching the largest, he slapped it hard on the shoulder above the articulated arm.

"Tig. You're it!" He shouted loudly as he barrelled away again.

The sound of a crash behind him had him looking over his shoulder. What he saw brought him up short.

Far from attempting to give chase, the drone, with the help of his companion, was attempting to pick up its arm from the floor where it had fallen.

At something of a loss for anything else to do, the Colonel retraced his steps and clubbed both soundly behind the ears with the butt of his rifle. Then shrugged in the direction of Chakotay, before disappearing into the tunnel.


Captain Janeway awoke to a white hot pain from her left leg and the sound of whimpering. It took several seconds of careful consideration before she realised the whimperings were not just hers. It gave her the confidence to open her eyes to examine the position she was in.

She found herself laying on a primitive metal table. A feeble yellow light burned above her, casting dark shadows preventing her seeing more than a few metres in any direction. Beside her sat a second table, similarly lit, bearing the face down body of a Borg drone, she guessed it was the one she fell upon. A second drone was attempting to resecure its back plate. The panel was distorted and kept springing away as it was pressed down. The drone was also having a problem with a mechanical arm that simply refused to grip the wayward plate.

All of a sudden Borgs did not seem so threatening anymore.

The second drone was probably a female humanoid, the Captain decided, she could see the swell of the breast plate, about the only clue as to the sex and origin of any Borg drone. After that she was stuck, most facial features were hidden behind the implants and metallic skullcap.

The drone on the table moaned in again in pain as the plate was pressed down harder until with a click the it latched into place.

That small victory accomplished, the repairing drone turned to face the Captain. Your designation?

For a moment Captain Janeway was nonplussed. She would have been certain her visage would have been burnt irrevocably onto the memory banks of every Borg drone in the Delta Quadrant, along with a couple of others, with or without Unimatrix One.

Captain Kathryn Janeway, she admitted. Of the Federation Starship Voyager. She groaned loudly as she tried to move and a bolt of pain shot up through her leg.

You will not move, the drone scolded, showing no signs of recognising the name. There is a compound fracture to your lower leg. It has not been sufficiently repaired for movement.

She added as the Captain managed to prop herself upon her elbows.

Who are you? The Captain demanded through gritted teeth. Why am I here?

My designation is tactical repair drone fourteen of twenty-eight. You are here for repair.

The answer served only to elevate the Captain's growing confusion and she sank back onto the table to consider things more carefully.

She knew that the Borg's central Unimatrix had been destroyed, she had been there. But she also knew there were other Unimatrices, it was foolish to think that all Borg life had been destroyed. That was fine, she decided. Now the going was trickier. She was on a planet populated by damaged Borg drones. Voyager had not detected them, which meant they were masking their presence, who from she did not know. They had attempted to steal an antelope, that she had shot. The reason for that mystified her as much as her capture and non-assimilation. Instead they had made an attempt to treat her injuries. Not particularly well perhaps, she decided looking down towards the reddened bandages. It looked like one of the Colonel's field lash ups. But it still did not make sense. Nor did the attempt to repair a badly damaged drone, the Borg normally terminated such things.

Weakened by her injuries, she gave up and hoped something would happen to explain the situation for her.

Captain Janeway's wish came true a few minutes later as a third Borg appeared.

This one was also female and had the air of somebody who at least thought she was in command and knew what was happening. There was something oddly familiar about her one natural eye as well the Captain noted. It looked very human.

You will be of assistance! The new Borg demanded without preamble. Failure to comply will result in your assimilation.

I very much doubt it, the Captain responded, keeping her tone calm. What is your designation?

The new arrival ignored the question. You will return us to the Collective. Your crew will comply, or you will be assimilated.

A thin dawn of light gleamed in the Captain's befuddled mind.

She grasped it with both hands. I don't think you can assimilate me, she said slowly. If you could, you would have, then dealt with my crew and ship. You can't even repair your own damage can you?

Captain Janeway desperately wished she could stand and face this drone eye to implant as it obviously wavered.

I think the person in real trouble is not me, it's you! She continued remorselessly. How many drones have you got? A dozen? It can't be more, or we would have detected you. It won't be enough when my crew finds us. We destroyed Unimatrix Zero-One!

Her final declaration was climaxed by a sharp crack that reverberated around the room. There was only one thing in the Captain's experience that made a sound like that.

As the sound receded, it was followed by an equally sharp voice. Stand back, or be perforated!

The welcome tones of the Colonel's bark allowed the Captain to relax a little and watch the drone standing over her with some pity, as she glanced around in alarm.

13 of 28. Assistance!

Is that the rude one at the entrance of these caves that tried to push me away, the little one with a spike, or the one built like a truck? The Colonel demanded entering the room, Chakotay beside him. The first I shot, the second had its ears boxed and the arm fell off the third. Now, please, stand away from Captain Janeway.

In a desperate act of defiance the drone gripped the Captains head and held her fist threateningly close to her throat. I will assimilate the female.

The Colonel stopped his advance and considered the proposition. If you are in anything like the condition of the others I rather doubt it. But I suppose it is possible? He reasoned quietly. But how long do you want to maintain the impasse? You can't move the Captain while holding her head, not that you've anywhere to go. The others aren't in a condition to help. And I think I've got a lot more patience.

He started moving forward again.

The drone watched him uncertainly, until her threatening fist was caught by his hand.

For a brief moment she struggled as the arm was inexorably twisted back and away.

As I suspected, the Colonel muttered. You are all done in. I suggest surrender, Ma'am?

The Borg do not surrender, they conquer!

When you out number the enemy and they are as technology dependent as you, perhaps, the Colonel agreed. But you don't and I'm not. I'm just plain nasty.

For twenty seconds the drone and soldier glared at each other, the Colonel's teeth bared.

My designation is one of three Secondary Adjunct Unimatrix 01. Your intentions? The drone relented, accepting the truth.

Not my call, Ma'am. The Colonel nodded towards the Captain. Your prisoners, Ma'am? If you'll permit. I'll have a look at your leg.

Once again the Captain found herself surprised by the Colonels deference and hesitated as she strove to take control. She made some time for herself by asking, Can they survive here?

Not a snowball in Hell's chance, Ma'am, the Colonel opined, cutting away bloody bandages.

Well, One of Three, Captain Janeway said slowly. I am not returning you to the Borg. I think they would only terminate you anyhow. But we can help you. We can make you individuals again. Then you can return to your people. You are human, we can take you home?

One of Three announced. We do not wish to be individuals! We wish to return to the Borg!

Seven of Nine thought the same when we released her from the Collective, the Captain reasoned. I'm sure she doesn't think the same now. Perhaps you could ask her?

The Captain glanced at both Chakotay and the Colonel for support as he finished to examining her injuries.

It's their choice, Ma'am, the Colonel dismissed them. I give 'em a month, before they are too weak to be worried. Now I think we had better get you out of here and into the daylight so Voyager can pick you up. They tried to set it, but with all the expertise of a thirteen week initiation failure. The Doctor will have to fix this mess. At least he can't blame me this time. Now lay still. Commander, care to grab the end of the table?

They grabbed the end of the table and started to drag it towards the door.

You can help, he offered to One of Three. You haven't won, but you haven't lost anything either. Yet!

The tone, mixing threat with command, persuaded the drone to grip the table beside him and join him in dragging the table away.

A few minutes later the Captain found herself under a starlit sky, Chakotay holding her hand. You can still come with us? She offered to One of Three. We know how to dismantle most of the Borg technology. And we can repair the other parts. You are human. We can take you back to the Federation with us!

Unacceptable. We are Borg!

Voyager. Beam the Captain and Commander to sickbay, the Colonel muttered into his intercom.

Where are you going? The Captain demanded as he stepped back.

Still got a few things to sort out, Ma'am. Like a barbecue, he apologised. I'll grab a lift from whoever is guarding the ridge.

He turned and grabbed One of Three by an arm as the others beamed away. Now Miss. We will be here for another day or two. If I see one of you chaps within 800 yards of a Voyager landing party this little truce will be over.

You intention is our destruction? One of Three clarified.

You people are stupid enough to do that on your own, the Colonel assured her. Good Night, Ma'am!

He marched away into the darkness.


The Captain materialised on a sickbay bed, Chakotay still holding her hand. Only now, in the strong lighting, did he realise how pale she was.

"I want us away from here," she demanded weakly. "Before more Borg appear."

"I'll see to it," Chakotay promised, not moving. Then watched in alarm as she descended into unconsciousness.

"Who treated this leg?" The Doctor demanded busily scanning the offending leg. "It's bad even by that barbarian's standards."

"The Borg," Chakotay admitted.

"Five breaks and a few slivers. This is going to take some time and she has lost a lot of blood," the Doctor grunted, his hand searching out a medi-spray and regenerator. "I'll have to reset it piece by piece. You can go."

"I'll wait," Chakotay insisted. "We can't leave until the Colonel has returned."


Seven of Nine activated the transporter to return her spouse to the ship. His face broke into a smile as he recognised her portly figure behind the console.

"Lieutenant Colonel Samuels reporting all present and correct, Ma'am. Permission to come aboard?" He asked brightly, stepping forward and gathering her in his arms to impart a kiss. He offered a small bouquet of woodland flowers he had gathered whilst he had been on the planet.

"You are late," Seven of Nine declared, ignoring the peace offering. "The Captain has ordered the Commander to leave."

"I don't see why," the Colonel said. "The chaps down there aren't a problem."

Seven looked at him questioningly. She trusted her husbands opinions on most things. Even to the extent of accepting his belief that the Borg's ambitions had been set back by more than a decade. But the news that there were Borg on the planet and that the Captain had disappeared, believed kidnapped by them had awoken some of her worst fears. She would never accept that the Borg were no longer a danger. "They are Borg," she said simply. "They are always a danger."

"Not that crowd," the Colonel insisted. "They are as 'Borgified' as you. Just they haven't learnt to accept it yet. Come on. We'll see if we can't stop the Commander from getting too carried away."


"Kathryn's orders were explicit," Chakotay observed to the small gathering of officers in the Conference Room. "We are to break orbit and get away before a Borg cube arrives. Remember they threatened Kathryn!"

"So we limp away from a minor nuisance, because we are afraid of what the nuisance was," the Colonel argued. "Face it, Sir. The Borg down there aren't even surviving. Their threat was even more empty than Mr Neelix's 'Compliments to the Chef' book. Their Collective is all but destroyed. Even if it weren't they don't know where they are because they are making no transmissions. It looks more like they are in hiding than actively trying to return to the Collective."

"But they tried to force Kathryn to return them to the Collective."

"Yes they did," the Colonel admitted. "But wouldn't you try and take advantage, if you were in their position and a possible solution fell in your lap? They have just found that the Galaxy is a big and lonely place. They are scared and tried to find a way back to what they knew. Isn't that what we are doing? You can hardly hold that against them."

There are a lot of people on edge, Borg being present won't help them, Neelix pointed out.

I'll deal with them, if they become a nuisance again, the Colonel promised.

This has been our first chance of relaxation for some months, Kim volunteered.

And we are no where near completing repairs, B'Elanna put in.

The Captain did offer them salvation, Sir. Shouldn't we give them a chance to consider? The Colonel suggested.

Chakotay held up a hand to stem the enthusiasm.

Seven, are there any indications of transmissions to or from the Borg? He asked seeking some voice of reason.

Seven of Nine admitted.

B'Elanna, how long do you need to complete the repairs we can't do underway?

Twenty-four hours.

And you think you can protect us from the Borg? He directed the question squarely at the Colonel.

The Colonel looked offended. A kid with a water pistol could take them out, Sir. You saw the state they are in.

Very well. We will remain, unless the Captain demands otherwise, or they try to threaten us again, Chakotay agreed.

Mr Neelix, a moment, please, Sir, the Colonel called chasing after the Talaxian as they traipsed out of the room.

How are you with spit roasts? The Colonel enquired. The Captain bagged a nice antelope earlier. If I gut it, can you cook it? We could have a shore-side party and barbecue tomorrow night?

Well we found those herbs. Perhaps mixed with a little honey and fruit juice, Neelix pondered, then brightened. You can manage wood for a fire as well?


One of Three watched the activities of the Voyager crew from the ridge above their landing site with mixed feelings, most of them very un-Borg in nature.

When they had abandoned their scout ship six months previously there had been fifty drones. Conventional wisdom had them believing that a Borg vessel would recover them within a few days. They had been badly mistaken. Instead, barely had the rescue beacon been setup, then they had been attacked by unknown ships. Thirty drones had been terminated in that air attack. What little they had salvaged from the ship in the way of parts and energy cells had been all but destroyed as well. From then they had been on their own, just twenty drones from a ship of 500. It was worse than that. With the loss of the beacon, all contact with the Collective and each other had been lost. It was twenty individual drones from the collective thoughts of countless millions. The mind is a strange and lonely place when you suddenly finds it exists inside of you.

Eight drones had been unable to withstand the onslaught of silence and had simply deactivated themselves. Five others had perished as their electro-mechanical systems, without continuous maintenance, had failed and the last tactical drone had been gored by one of the ruminant's. The remaining six drones did not have the skills to hunt the flighty and savage creatures that infested the planet, so they had been reduced to scavenging.

It had been this need for food that had led 13 of 28 and Seven of Seven to attempt to take the shot antelope. Why 13 of 28 had retrieved the earth woman when he had found her, she was not certain. But it had been One of Three's desire to be invisible to herself again and not be party to the thoughts that she knew were hers, that had made her attempt to intimidate the captive to return them to the collective.

Surrendering to the green human had been the result of another desire. One that had nothing to do with being a Borg. The desire to live.

If she was still in communication with the Collective, she thought sourly, she would have gathered her remaining drones and attempted to assimilate the humans below. They would only have to create a couple before their replacements shields adapted to the humans weapons. Then things would have progressed automatically, despite the green clad human.

As she watched the object of her thoughts appeared, his arm linked with a female. He looked in her direction and waved his free arm at her, before settling upon a grass knoll.

One of Three ignored the seemingly friendly gesture. Instead she concentrated on the female. There was something familiar about her. Then she realised what it was. The implant around her eye, the mesh that covered her left hand. It was a Borg. But not like any One of Three had witnessed. The expanding midriff, barely hidden by the loose fitting smock, could only mean it was pregnant. An impossible feat for a drone.

From behind her 14 of 28 limped up, forcing One of Three to drag her attention away from the couple below.

Seven of Seven is malfunctioning, 14 of 28 reported blandly. The Cardiovascular Node must be replaced for continued functioning.

Two of Seven was of the same age. The unit from her will be adequate, One of Three suggested.

I do not have the motor control to replace the unit, 14 of 28 observed. I will require assistance.

One of Three took a lingering look at the humans below. The humans below could repair Seven of Seven, she declared wistfully.

We are not permitted within 800 Metres, 14 of 28 reminded her. What are they doing?

Building a wooden cairn. I believe they may be attempting to create a fire to cook the ruminant they killed. One of Three turned away firmly. We will attempt repair.

The Captain awoke slowly to find Chakotay sat beside her bed.

"Have you been waiting for me?" She asked dreamily. "How long have I been out?"

Yes I have. And you've been out twenty hours, Chakotay grinned, offering her a cup.

She grasped the cup firmly. And no sign of any Borg ships? She asked, sipping at the contents and smacked her lips contentedly at the coffee.

Chakotay admitted truthfully.

Repairs complete?

Not yet, again a truthful answer.

Well we have avoided them again. I'm sorry we didn't get the break we needed, but there will be other planets, the Captain sighed.

Chakotay hesitated before replying, he was not good at evasive answers. "We are making the best of things," he managed. "Actually Neelix is waiting for you so he can get things underway. He thinks as you killed it, you should have the first taste. If you are upto it?"

Killed it? The Captain asked in confusion, then her smile returned as she remembered. The Colonel rescued the antelope? Well I suppose I ought to end the waiting.

Chakotay offered her an arm as she stood. The Colonel gets away with it, he suggested.

For a moment she was tempted to ignore it, then grinned and accepted.

Where are we going? The Captain asked uncertainly as Chakotay ushered her into the Transporter Room.

Chakotay took a deep breath. We didn't leave, he admitted and waited for the explosion.

It was not as severe as he expected.

I distinctly recall saying break orbit, the Captain scolded. Why didn't you?

B'Elanna needed the minerals to complete repairs. The Colonel promised to keep the landing site safe. Another couple of hours won't make a big difference.

I'll deal with you both later, she threatened, taking her position on the pad. Now I'd better get my crew back.


Neelix was effervescent in his greeting of the Captain when she materialised. Captain it is so good to see you up and about. We were almost at the point of starting without you. But it would not be the same. Would you care to start the fire? It's only ceremonial I'm afraid. I've been cooking most of the day. But it's the feel of it, he finished.

You expect me to rub two sticks together? the Captain challenged buoyed along by the Talaxians efficacious good humour.

Neelix laughed and offered her a phasor, which she took and fired into the pile of wood that had been set.

I'm so glad you are letting us have this party, Neelix whispered as Captain Janeway accepts her plate. See how happy the crew are. Even Crewman Ioraith is smiling! Now help yourself to salad and meat.

But where is the architect of this? She started, then spotted Seven of Nine loading a tray. I know you are eating for two, but isn't that a little excessive, Seven?

Seven of Nine gave her a quizzical stare as she loaded salad. The food is not for me. The Colonel wishes to sample Mr Neelix's cooking. He is still on duty.

Oh. I thought he wanted this party more than most of us?

He is satisfied when he is on a planet. The reason is irrelevant, Seven of Nine observed pragmatically, adding two mugs of tea to the tray.

Well let me take the tray and I'll come and join you, the Captain suggested as Seven of Nine, satisfied with her collection started to limp away.


Up and about what, Ma'am? The Colonel greeted her jovially. Pleased to report the locals are behaving themselves.

What would you have done if the Borg had turned up with a cube? The Captain demanded trying to maintain a degree of sternness in the face of so much good humour.

Gone and shot another couple of the antelope. But they would have to make do with it microwaved, Ma'am.

Okay, so it was not likely, the Captain accepted relaxing a little. But I still wanted us to leave.

If you still wanted that, we would do so, Ma'am. The Borg on this planet aren't dangerous as such. And you offered to be the Good Samaritan, but didn't give them a chance to accept.

They seemed of pretty firm mind to me, the Captain observed.

The Colonel nodded towards the silhouette of the ridge. Miss One of Three has spent most of the day up there, Ma'am, the Colonel said quietly. I think she is wondering if it was such a good idea, to refuse. She knows a lot of things. Unfortunately they aren't the things it is good to know.

The Colonel offered a weak grin and explanation to the Captains puzzled look. Mrs Nine told me once that being cut off from the Collective terrified her. Yet she had you and one hundred fifty people floating around to help her get over it. They haven't got that here.

So you are expecting them to beg to be transported? The Captain challenged

Not beg, the Colonel assured her. They are much too proud to do that. But perhaps accept an invitation. If it were offered again?

You are making the Captain's mistake. Believing that all people wish to be saved, Seven of Nine argued stoutly.

I'm a soldier, was the Colonel's simple reply. I'm expected to be mans best friend at breakfast, rip his head off at lunch and save his life at teatime. The Captain wanted to rescue them. It's enough, if she still wants?


One of Three and 14 of 28 were struggling. They had succeeded in removing the chest plate from Seven of Seven, no great dexterity was required for that operation.

The problem came from the need to remove the vascular control node. Repairs of this nature were usually carried out by specialist drones, equipped with tools designed to hold and twist the small units that controlled Borg physiology, whilst releasing various catches. The small band of Borg survivors had included such a drone. It had been one of the ones that had terminated itself. It left One of Three and her assistant the problem of using a multi-tooled limb that was not theirs, a problem compounded by the fact that their own manipulators were struggling to grasp the limb, let alone the spare control device they intended to use.

After thirty minutes of trying to gain control of their wayward limbs, One of Three stood back. "We are too badly damaged to complete the necessary repair."

"The unit will perish," 14 of 28 accepted. "Our level of damage means it is unlikely we will be able to repair other units. We will also perish. I do not wish to perish."

"We are Borg. The survival of individuals is of no importance to the Collective," One of Three corrected.

"We are no longer part of the Collective. Contact has ceased. We cannot survive. Therefore we will perish," 14 of 28 reminded. "I do not wish to perish."

It came as a grim shock to One of Three to realise that other drones were fighting simillar thoughts and fears to her own. There was some comfort in that knowledge.

"I, also, do not wish to perish," she admitted. "Have 13 of 28 pick this unit up, then collect the remaining drones. They are to remain upon the ridge above the humans camp," she ordered. "Perhaps the humans will repair this unit for us?"

Silently the oversized heavy drone appeared and scooped the damaged Seven of Seven from the table into arthritic arms and followed One of Three. She had, she realised, made the largest mistake of her Borg career.


Harry Kim had taken the opportunity offered by approaching darkness to attempt to renew his acquaintance with Jenny Delaney. He was, to his surprise, having more success than he had achieved in some months. The young Stellar Cartographer accepting his suggestion to leave the noise and glare of the party and enjoy the glow of the stars.

They were now sitting amongst long grass, admiring the tiny pin-pricks that showed against the night sky. The fact they were now 400 Metres ahead of the Colonel's guard station did not seem important.

"You know, ancient civilisations used to create pictures from the stars in the sky?" Jenny offered whimsically.

"Don't see how," Kim opined. "I never saw the meanings in the constellations at home."

"You have to apply a little imagination, silly!" Jenny giggled. "Megan and I used to do it as kids. For instance I can see Seven in that group." She waved a finger expansively at a pattern of some 12 stars above them.

"How?" Kim challenged.

"Look!" She exclaimed in exasperation. "Give me that PADD you have in your pocket and I'll show you."

She snatched the device from him and started to draw.

We have twelve stars in this pattern, she explained, making points on the small screen. All we do is join them with a little improvisation!

Harry Kim leaned closer to look as Jenny produced a small caricature of Seven of Nine, standing hands behind her back. Of course that B2 star cluster there helps, she added, pointing at a small gathering of three stars where Sevens face was, otherwise it would be the Colonel. Have you ever noticed they stand exactly alike?

Kim laughed. Are there any stars we can use to show him? How about those? He picked out another seven stars.

Jenny set to work with a will and Kim craned closer to watch. Her perfume began to assail his nostrils, it was a light sweet scent. Along with the romantic moonlight and warm breeze it formed an intoxicating blend. He settled closer still, plucking up the courage to risk a kiss...

There was a sharp noise of metal on metal, making both look up sharply.

Less than twenty metres away, moving towards them, were the silhouettes of two Borg drones.

Run for it! Harry Kim whispered after a moments hesitation.

They ran, ignoring the shout from the two Borg, Kim angling them towards where he hoped the Colonel would be.

He was rewarded by a sharp. Halt! Who goes there?

There are Borg after us! Harry Kim screamed charging on.

British soldier. Halt, or I shoot! The second challenge rang out.

They ignored it.

There was a crash and Kim felt the bullet whizz past his face. He dived to the ground, dragging Jenny with him. He's mad! Kim hissed.

Identify yourself!

The challenge rang out for the third and, Kim suspected, the final time. Ensigns Harry Kim and Jenny Delaney! There are Borg in the valley, Colonel!

Rise and approach for identification. Hands on heads.

The Colonel was obviously not going to be swayed by important problems.

Nervously they rose and approached the direction of the shouted commands, not able to see the issuer.

Pass. Friend, the much quieter command issued from behind made them jump and spin around.

The Colonel was kneeling in the grass, with Seven of Nine beside him.

Next time, Ensign, I recommend when somebody challenges, you do as they say. It might save you being perforated. There are a lot more nervous guards than me, he chastised. Now about these Borg. How many, where?

Over there. Perhaps 400 metres. Two of them, Jenny gasped waving in the direction they had come from.

Thank you, Ensign. Now you two stay here and explain what happened to the others when they arrive. I'll see if I can find your Borg, the Colonel saluted them and disappeared.

He almost shot me! Kim complained loudly as the Captain, Chakotay and three security guards arrived.

He did not, Seven of Nine retorted. The Colonel's marksmanship is not in question. Your identity was.

What were you doing beyond the camp anyhow? Chakotay demanded.

Never mind, the Captain declared as Harry and Jenny flushed. Where is the Colonel?

He went to track the two Borg Ensign Delaney reported, Seven of Nine said. We should wait here until he returns. I have detected both groups on my tricorder. They will intercept in a 2.5 minutes.


Both One of Three and 13 of 28 stopped short in alarm when the two Starfleet personnel had broken cover and run from infront of them. After the display the previous day by the three humans, One of Three had until then been certain that humans were not afraid of the Borg. It left her uncertain as to what to do next.

They stood there for several minutes listening to the shouted challenges and the gun shot. It suggested that they would not be well received. She turned and took several steps back the way she had come before she was brought up short again.

Is there a reason for breaking our agreement, Ma'am?

One of Three turned slowly, looking for the source of the voice.

Please stand still, Ma'am. I can assure you my hearing is good enough for me to hear what you say.

We wish assistance, One of Three declared. The juvenile unit Seven of Seven is dis-functional. We are unable to replace the component.

Place it on the ground and step away, please, Ma'am. I'll take a look.

13 of 28 laid the body on the floor as instructed, they stepped away as ordered to allow the Colonel to examine the casualty. It certainly looked ill, he accepted. But drones always did.

The Cardiovascular Node requires replacing, One of Three called helpfully, seeing the soldier do physical checks for heartbeat and breathing. The Borg do not 'breath' in a fashion you will detect manually.

Glad you told me that, the Colonel said. I was about to push a needle through its nose to see if it would wake up. Very well. You can pick it up. You will walk not more than five yards infront of me and do exactly as you are told, or we could all end up dead.

The Colonel was unsurprised to hear Chakotay challenge their approach.

Lieutenant-Colonel Alan Samuels, 60th Rifles, plus friends, he answered, then whispered to One of Three. If you would put your hands in the air, it is easier to see if you are about to do something you'll regret. I'll excuse the big chap for the time being.

One of Three, Captain greeted the drone warily. Why are you here?

With your permission, Ma'am. I invited them, the Colonel intercepted quickly. They have a poorly youngster. I thought perhaps you would let the Doctor and Lieutenant Paris try and treat him?

Take it to the ship, the Captain nodded. What about the others?

Your call, Ma'am, the Colonel reminded her.

The Captain grinned wryly. Perhaps they can join the party?

There are proteins? 13 of 28 rumbled.

There are proteins, the Captain assured him.

One of Three?

I will attend, One of Three accepted slowly. You will not require your weapons. We intend you no harm.

The Borg have a bad reputation, the Captain pointed out. You will remain under close guard. Where are the rest of your people?

They are observing your actions.

They can come later, the Captain accepted. After you.


B'Elanna Paris was upset. We have been fighting and running from these people for seven years. Yet every time we come across an injured one, the Captain wants to repair it! She fumed. And you are even worse! She turned the full force of her irritation upon the Colonel. A few months ago you stormed into the Unimatrix wanting to kill everything. Now you want me to repair one!

And you would like it to die? The Colonel suggested softly. A few months ago, I went to war with a powerful enemy that would give no quarter. The only rule was, 'win at all costs'. The circumstances have changed now. These drones aren't a threat. I thought you people were better than that, Lieutenant, simply wanting revenge. Better than me as well, if it comes to that. In the end I just do as I'm told, right or wrong. Still, if it makes you uncomfortable. Show me which way up this maggot that needs to be replaced goes and I'll help the Doctor?

No you won't! She snapped. I'll do it. But if it springs up and tries to assimilate me..

I'll kill it, the Colonel interrupted. Shall we get on?


How long have you been here and why? Captain Janeway asked of One of Three, still concerned over the possibility of a Borg ship arriving to reclaim their own.

Six of your months. Our vessel was caught in a level 12 ion storm and rendered unrepairable. We abandoned the vessel.

A level 12 storm would render a scout ship helpless, Seven of Nine affirmed at the Captains questioning glance.

How many are there of you? Captain Janeway continued.

And you thought you could assimilate a Starship with that? Chakotay asked incredulously.

You have observed the Borg have a reputation. It would be sufficient, One of Three admitted. Presenting your vessel for assimilation may have prevented us from being terminated. Your reactions were not as predicted.

And now?

One of Three considered the question. We do not wish to be terminated, she said.

Neelix bustled up. The food is to your liking? He asked One of Three with concern. I know Seven is not keen on too much spice normally. He had taken the arrival of the two Borg drones with remarkable aplomb, certainly in comparison to the crews studied nervousness, and had selected small amounts of good cuts of meat and vegetables but had omitted the sauces he had prepared.

The food is adequate, One of Three accepted. I do not have experience with consuming nutrients in this fashion. It sounded like an apology.

You must have at some point, Chakotay observed. You are human.

Yes. When were you assimilated? The Captain asked in morbid curiosity, taking a sip at her drink.

Stardate 32066.7.

Captain Janeway choked as if her synthol had suddenly gained bones. She risked a glance at Seven of Nine out the corner of her eye as she coughed. The revelation had not gone unmissed by her either. A distinct look of alarm passed over her alabaster features before she turned and stalked away.

One of Three watched on in mild puzzlement.

There was only one Federation vessel that went missing on, or about, that date, the Captain croaked, struggling to regain her composure. A small research vessel, named 'Raven'. We know because we had cause to research it very carefully. There were three people aboard. Doctors Erin and Magnus Hansen and their daughter Annaka.

Your point, Captain Janeway?

We know what happened to all three, the Captain said slowly, they were assimilated. I know the fate of two of them. Magnus was terminated by Colonel Samuels. Annaka is now Seven of Nine. That leaves you. Doctor Erin Hansen.

The pregnant drone is my offspring? One of Three queried uncertainly. Drones are not capable of pregnancy.

Seven is your daughter and she is not a drone anymore. Unless you count Colonel Samuels, then I'm not sure who is who's drone, the Captain grinned. We removed most of her implants and stabilised a few others.

Colonel Samuels is the tactical unit that threatened us? One of Three queried, confused by the information coming her way.

Captain Janeway nodded.

He is also the breeding unit?

We call them husband and wife, the Captain corrected her gently. But yes.

I have no recollection of life before becoming Borg. The data is confusing, One of Three confessed.

It will come back. In time. My offer still stands. We can take you with us, even back to Earth? Captain Janeway ventured.

I will consider the invitation.


Seven of Nine stood as far from the party as she felt safe. Breathing hard, she gazed unseeingly into the night as images of that fateful last day aboard Raven played in her mind.

It had been a happy day, she remembered, her parents had finally accepted that they needed to refuel. That meant they would stop chasing the cube that had spent so long on the view screen. The little golden haired girl hoped it meant that they had finished and would soon be going home. Papa would be famous for a while. That would mean they would have to stay in one place for a while, with people! Perhaps they would have time to play with her as well!

Then they had been spotted.

For fifty minutes her parents had screamed at each other as they had tried to find a way to elude their erstwhile subjects of study and she had cried in sympathy, all the while the age old and terrifying litany, 'We are the Borg. Your cultural and technological distinctiveness will be added to the Collective. Resistance is futile,' played until the panels rattled. Then the Borg had appeared. Her parents had not even tried to resist or scream. Even when the assimilation leads were attached to their throats. Annaka had seen her mothers eyes open so wide that she was sure they would fall out when she was assimilated, but she still did not scream.

Annaka had screamed though. Fit to bring the control room ceiling down, when they had found her, sobbing silently under a desk. The drone that picked her up had been almost gentle as he lifted her. But it had not stopped her scream in terror, even when she felt the sharp prick and the pressure in her own neck as nanoprobes were injected. Only when it was finished did she stop. Then she remembered nothing for another ten years, until she was released from the maturation chamber.

Annaka. That was who she was then. In a different life and time. It was a sharp contrast with Voyager.

Captain Janeway had never given in to the Borg, even when the odds were insurmountable. Always finding a means of out-witting the foe. Or her chosen mate, Lieutenant Colonel Samuels, who had proved that the Borg were not unbeatable, even in their own territory. Between the two of them it was impossible to imagine a circumstance where problems could not be overcome.

There was, perhaps, another difference. One that meant more. She had never been ignored, because something else was more interesting.

Now you have more more members of your family, Seven, Neelix offered happily, catching up with her. He like the Captain had seen the look on her face as she had stalked away. Natural optimism made him hope that it was just shock she had displayed and had felt it his duty to help her over it.

Seven of Nine glared at him. I have a family. It consists of Lieutenant-Colonel Samuels, my unborn child and the crew of the USS Voyager. The addition of another is unnecessary.

But it is your mother! Neelix's shock at the icy response was palpable. Don't you want to get to know her again?

It is probable that she is my biological parent, Seven accepted. She is not part of my Collective. I see no merit in getting to know her for that purpose.

But she is different! Neelix blustered, desperately trying to make sense of Seven of Nine's reticence. She is your mother. She should be closer to you than even the Colonel! You should be overjoyed to see her! I know I would if I could see mine again.

Your family perished in a war, Seven of Nine observed. They did not provoke it. They were merely innocent victims. You also spent your formative life with them and had friends. My parents were foolish. They provoked the Borg in to assimilating them. Yet they lacked the adaptability to counter the threat when it materialised. As a result I was removed from human company at the age of three and assimilated at the age of six. I was unable to develop in a natural environment with my parents and others.

Colonel Samuels could be said to be foolish. The way he is prepared to lay down his life for the ship? Neelix offered slowly.

For a moment Seven of Nine looked nonplussed. His upbringing was similar to my own, she said at last. He does what he believes is correct to protect the Collective. He is attempting to modify his views. There are occasions when there is no alternative to his approach and he has proven to be highly adaptive to the situations he has faced. He has never ignored those around him, or surrendered.

The statement puzzled Neelix. He could think of no reason for Seven of Nine's obvious resentment, but the cold stare he was getting from Seven of Nine precluded further discussion and she was volunteering no more information.

Well. I'm sure things will be better now, he offered hopefully.

He turned away shame faced from the furious glare and activated his communicator as he crept away. Neelix to Colonel Samuels. I think Seven needs you.


Hells Bells! The Colonel muttered under his breath when Neelix finished explaining what had transpired on the planet below. Unlike the Talaxian, he did know Seven of Nine's recollections of her parents. He had spent many evenings teasing out and listening to her story. Only a born optimist like Neelix would imagine a sudden reunion would be an easy one.

He looked up at B'Elanna Paris and the Doctor. How soon? he asked.

We've finished, B'Elanna declared. We can re-activate as soon as we get it on the planet.

Excellent. Thank you. He scooped the drone up into his arms. Miller, take us down! Somewhere I want to try and build a few bridges.


Here you are, Ma'am. One Miss Seven Squared, junior Borg for the use of. All repaired and ready to go, the Colonel breezed, laying the drone on the ground. You will forgive me if I don't stay for the happy event.

Warily and under the watchful eyes of Captain Janeway and Chakotay, One of Three activated the drone. They watched in morbid fascination as a series of small diodes flashed, then a glow formed in the ocular implant.

Seven of Seven sat bolt upright. My designation is Seven of Seven. Ancillary Unit of Unimatrix.. she stopped uncertainly, then. I am receiving no command controls. Define my function? She looked hard at Captain Janeway and One of Three as if expecting an answer.

No function has been defined for you as yet, One of Three declared. There was a definite note of relief in the drones tone, the Captain decided. One will be assigned.

Perhaps we can repair the others of your group? The Captain offered glancing at B'Elanna and the Doctor, who both nodded acceptance.

It will have limited benefit, One of Three opined quietly turning to face the Captain. We do not have the facilities to regenerate. We wish to accept your offer of transportation. Perhaps we can be placed with a suitable Collective?

Or even returned to your own people?

Perhaps that will be acceptable. I will signal the remainder to come.


The Colonel found Seven of Nine where Neelix had left her. Gently he wrapped an arm around her waist and cuddled her close.

I know what you think of your parents, he whispered nuzzling her ear, and I don't know if I entirely agree with you.

They did not try to resist, Seven complained.

Not everybody is as tricky as Captain Janeway and even fewer are stupid enough to do things my way, so the result would have been the same, he responded quietly. But if we were to forget who she is, could you learn to be friends?

It would require getting to know her, Seven of Nine observed.

Yes, it would, the Colonel accepted. It is your chance to set the boundaries. You may have to learn to live with her. Could you at least stand meeting her properly, with my hairy arm around you for protection?

she responded. Slipping her own arm around him they walked back to where the Doctor was examining the six drones.

Miss One of Three, The Colonel announced. May I have the pleasure to announce Mrs Seven of Nine Samuels.

My correct designation I am told is Doctor Erin Hansen, One of Three retorted. I wish to be known by that name.

Very good, Ma'am.

The woman beside you is Annaka Hansen? Human?

The Colonel felt Seven stiffen. I believe she once knew somebody of that name, he agreed. But that was some years ago. I think she had a tragic accident.

My designation is Seven of Nine. I was Borg and have chosen to maintain my Borg designation. Seven of Nine interrupted.

It was Seven's choice, the Doctor added.

And she does not wish to regain her human links?

I have my human links! Seven of Nine retorted. I discovered them during my four years aboard Voyager! With a sharp twist she broke away from the Colonel's comforting arm and stalked away.

For a moment he was torn to go after her and stay to protect her actions. In my humble opinion, Ma'am, the Colonel said. Mrs Nine has found better links than a human name.

Perhaps she will assist me to rediscover mine? One of Three suggested.

Perhaps you could ask, Ma'am? he offered evenly bowing to her before going in search of Seven of Nine again.

Your prognosis Doctor? The Captain asked, seeing that the potential battle had dissipated, at least for the time being and concerned at Seven of Nine's distinctly frosty approach.

They will be fine after a few weeks regeneration, the Doctor announced. I can start removing implants anytime they want.

So all we have to do is find something for you to do and somebody to help you, the Captain pondered reflectively. I think Neelix and the Doctor. We'll get you up to the ship and get underway again. With that she turned and headed after the Colonel.


You have orders for me, Ma'am? The Colonel questioned as the Captain strolled up behind him.

I don't think so. At least nothing you won't do yourself anyhow, she said thoughtfully. I came to find what is wrong with Seven?

Mrs Nine did not believe in ghosts, Ma'am, he responded cryptically. I think finding she has her own personal one has come as a bit of a shock. I don't see Mrs Hansen going on a Christmas card list any time in the near future.

You're not telling me everything, the Captain accused.

No I'm not, the Colonel admitted, finally turning to face her and displaying a face creased in concern. But I need to work out where I stand first. I have gained an extra member of my family as well. All I have to go by is what Mrs Nine has told me and I don't like what I've heard. I think I could end up paying for our charity.

I assume you wish me to look after our guests? he added more lightly.

Not if you think you are going to have problems with your loyalties, the Captain assured him.

My loyalty is not in question, Ma'am. I don't have to 'like' people to get them to do things. All the same, I'd rather not start until tomorrow?

Carry on Colonel. I'm sure you want to cosy up with Seven for the rest of the night.

With a final salute and a crisp 'Ma'am', he turned and walked off into the night.

The Captain turned to find Chakotay standing behind her. I think I could regret taking the drones, she admitted wryly.

Families are not always happy, Chakotay placated. Just as long as they get over their quarrels.

The Captain's face finally broke into a grin. I owe you an apology and a thanks, she offered. Thanks for being there and an apology for not appreciating it!

It's a start, Kathryn, Chakotay offered. But you also owe me at least a forty cups of your awful coffee! But I won't hold that against you.

In the dying fire light she saw the flash of the smile. Just for once, she felt all the problems were other peoples, no matter how temporarily.

she declared. I don't intend to make up the arrears.

They stood for a few minutes in silence, then. But perhaps we could start again, as friends? She offered.

Always friends, Kathryn, Chakotay assured her. Perhaps we can do what the Colonel and Seven do. Sit, talk and listen?

Once we are underway?

Once we are underway, Chakotay agreed. He hesitated for a moment, then slipped a hesitant arm around her waist. He withdrew it quickly as she stiffened. Too far, friends but still with clear water between them.

Instead she gripped his arm, linking it in hers. I think I can see why the Colonel likes this place, she said quietly. It would be a nice place to settle one day!

They stood quietly in the darkness for a few minutes.

Time to go, he said.

Captain Janeway made no move.

Think we are the last people here?

Still she did not move. It was a peaceful moment. She did not want to lose it so soon.

Voyager to Captain. Ready to beam you aboard, Captain. Ensign Kim's voice shattered the moment and they disengaged.