p a r t e i g h t

It's nearly the end of alpha shift and I'm on the Bridge. If I'd hoped for a distraction, I was mistaken. Despite the presence of Tuvok, Tom and Harry, the shift has been quiet. When Tom's badge chirps, we all look at him.

"Sickbay to Paris."

"Yes, Doc?"

"Can you get down here? I need your help with some simulations."

Tom raises his eyebrows at me, and I nod.

"On my way, Doc!" He's on the turbolift as he finishes the conversation.

A deep sigh wafts its way to me from Harry's direction, and I turn to him.

"Ensign?"

"I was just thinking about Seven," he says wistfully.

"Have you spoken to her?"

Harry shifts uncomfortably. Despite six years in the Delta Quadrant, he retains an air of innocence. He's lost friends before, to sudden death, but I know he's never had to watch a lingering demise.

"Harry?" I prompt.

"Not really." He looks at his console, and his hands move over the board, but I know he's not focused on it. "I don't know what to say to her, Captain." He looks at me, his eyes wide and anxious. "I don't want to say anything to make it harder for her."

"That is unlikely, Ensign," Tuvok puts in from his customary spot. "If I may say so, Seven of Nine, unlike other members of this crew, has accepted her fate. I do not believe that you could say anything to 'make it harder.'"

I glance at him sharply. I know that was aimed at me as much as Harry. "That may be so, Commander, but it doesn't invalidate Harry's concerns." My voice softens as I turn back to my young Ops officer. "Harry, talk to her. No matter what happens, it can only help both of you. I know she considers you a friend. Don't draw away from her now."

Harry's cheeks flush a little, but he nods. "Yes, ma'am."

I flash a smile at him. It fades quickly as I think of Tuvok's words, and B'Elanna's. Has Seven really accepted her death as inevitable? I decide to go and find out. I rise, and turn to my Chief of Security.

"I'm going to Astrometrics. You have the Bridge."

The sound of his murmured acquiescence follows me into the 'lift.

I hesitate for a moment before I permit the sensors to register my presence and trip the door's opening mechanism. Seven is standing at her customary position, as immaculate and trim as always, and despite everything, I feel a pang of envy. I needed more makeup than usual this morning.

I look at the viewscreen and am surprised to be confronted with a familiar image: the awe-inspiring panorama of the Grand Canyon. I lean against the bulkhead and eye my protégé. It is unlike her to show such interest in Earth, and the Alpha Quadrant. Until now, she has in fact avoided it. I stiffen my spine as the logical explanation for her new-found curiosity occurs to me. I say something to distract myself from that train of thought.

"Earth's biggest ditch. That's what my father used to call it. We hiked the north rim when I was nine."

Seven glances at me, the first time she's acknowledged my presence. "It's an impressive geological formation."

I smile, wistfulness and amusement combined. "Too dusty," I qualify. "I've always preferred farm country, myself."

Seven's fingers move with lightning speed across her console, and another image, more familiar than the last, appears. I blink at the sight of my hometown, and only distantly register than Seven has identified it, and it's connection to me, accurately. I find I'm touched by that.

"What do you think?" I ask her.

"It appears to be a pleasant environment," she says, sounding almost surprised. I smile at her once more.

"When we get to Earth I'll take you there," I promise. It's a vow I have every intention of keeping.

Seven's eyes drop from mine and her posture stiffens again. "It's more likely this crew will reach Earth without me," she points out. I'm chilled by the impassivity of her tone.

"You don't know that," I insist.

Seven's eyebrow goes up in a manner reminiscent of Tuvok's. "You refuse to acknowledge the severity of my condition, just as I did at first."

I wince. Like Tuvok, she is being painfully logical. Too logical. "Are you giving up?" I demand, my tone harder than I intended.

Her shoulders move in her version of a shrug. "I'm merely accepting reality."

I sink down on the lower step and look up at my protégée. "If I'd accepted reality six years ago I'd have settled on the first M class planet we came across," I tell her firmly.

She opens her mouth to respond and I forestall her by turning and indicating the corn field on the viewscreen. "Instead, I'm thirty thousand light years closer to Bloomington, Indiana."

She looks at me in silence, her expression tighter than usual. I force myself to remain still, to not betray my discomfort. It's a been a while since Seven looked at me in precisely that manner.

I don't have long to wait to discover the reason. She pushes a button on her console, and begins to talk. Relentlessly.

"Minus several members of your crew. Ensign Marie Kaplan. Ensign Lindsay Ballard. Crewman Timothy Lang."

An image appears on the screen as she cites each name. The images keep coming; she does not even need to say the names. I know them all by heart.

I swallow the lump in my throat and speak with some difficulty. "Is there a point to this?"

"Every person on this list died under your command. You accepted their deaths, but I don't believe you'll accept mine."

I feel anger. I know I've devoted a lot of time, attention, and yes, love, to Seven, but she's implying that the deaths of other crew members mean little to me.

I pull myself up from my awkward position on the step with a muffled grunt. "That's presumptuous," I tell her, glaring.

Seven's eyes meet mine, as they always have, with the frankness of a child.

"I'm not being egotistical," she says, a statement that I'm certain would have B'Elanna snorting with disbelief.

Judged on her own terms, however, the assessment is accurate. Seven takes pride in her abilities, but she knows that they're the result of the experiences and deaths of millions. As a Borg, she had no sense of self. The result now is an odd mixture of arrogance and humility.

I raise a brow at her again, prompting her to continue.

She takes a deep breath. "On the contrary, I'm trying to make a point."

I lean on her console and look up at her, deliberately moving slowly. Chakotay would say I'm behaving like a cat preparing to pounce, and right now he'd be correct.

"Which is?" I demand, still rankled by Seven's earlier statement.

"All of these crew members came to Voyager with unique personalities." She pauses and looks directly at me once again. "I've required your constant assistance to develop my individuality."

I wonder if there's a trace of resentment there. I nod at her. "And you've come a long way." I smile at her; a genuinely proud smile.

Her shoulders are tense. "But not far enough." She drops her eyes again, and speaks very softly. "I've disappointed you. You feel your task is incomplete. That's why my death will be difficult for you to accept."

My smile fades and I blink at sudden tears. "Is that what you think?" I ask, in a voice as soft as hers. "That you haven't lived up to my expectations?"

Seven looks almost surprised, and my heart aches for her. She always seems so self-sufficient; even I sometimes forget her desperate insecurity.

"Clearly I haven't," she says, as though it's self evident. Then she hesitates before going on. "I want you to know that the failure has been mine, not yours."

I'm astonished. Only once before has Seven spoken to me in such a deeply personal fashion, and that was two years ago- the morning in the mess hall when she thanked me for the first time. I'm even more touched now than I was then. I want to cry. I want to hold her close and tell her how wonderful she really is.

"You haven't failed, Seven." I know my emotion shows in my voice, but as I look straight into my protegee's blue eyes, I know that for once she welcomes that emotion, and I make an effort to put my pride into words.

"You've exceeded my expectations. You've become an individual, an extraordinary individual." I need to pause to steady my voice. "If I'm having trouble accepting your condition it's only because I don't want to lose a friend."

Seven's eyes are fixed on me. She blinks, rapidly. In anyone else, I'd have suspected she was trying not to cry, but I know that a side effect of her cortical node's breakdown is tears. Even so, it does appear that emotion does play a role in these episodes; after all, the first such occurrence happened immediately after the children's departure from Voyager. That's too much of a coincidence….

My musings are interrupted by the sound of the Doctor's voice.

"Doctor to the Captain. I need to see you and Seven right away."

Seven and I exchange a glance.

"Very well, Doctor. We're on our way to sickbay now."

"Make that the briefing room, Captain."

Now we're puzzled. This is certainly unorthodox.

"The briefing room, Doctor?"

"Yes. Like I say, I have news. Sickbay out."

My eyebrows rise, but I indicate to Seven that we should follow the directive. I have to confess I'm intrigued by what the Doctor might have to say.