Seven of Nine
Seven of Nine found that she was-grateful- for Neelix's sensitivity in remaining silent even after the mess hall doors had swished closed behind the First Officer. That was the unsettling thing about Neelix, Seven knew- he could be almost offensively ebullient, but at other times, when it was most needful, the hairy little Talaxian could be the best companion on the ship.

Seven admitted, to herself, at least, that for her this was one of those times. The events of the last days had shaken her deeply- not only the generosity of her crewmates in voluntarily presenting themselves for assimilation, although that was shocking enough, but….

The recollection of her life as Annika Hansen in Unimatrix Zero had left her reeling. Once, shortly after her arrival on Voyager, but before she was severed from the Collective, she'd told Chakotay that humanity and individuality were small things- inefficient, lacking the cohesion of the collective mind.

In the years that followed, she'd learned, slowly and often painfully, that individuality was a thing to be valued- and yet a part of her had maintained a self-consciously superior attitude to her fellow individuals. Almost as if, she thought now, she was trying to have 'the best of both worlds'- individuality with Borg efficiency.

She'd taken great pride in her perfection and efficiency- and yet, as a member of Unimatrix Zero, she hadn't even been truly that. Ever since her liberation from the Collective, she'd always been in a form of limbo, neither completely human nor completely Borg, and that was compounded by the regained memories of her time in Unimatrix Zero….and Axum. The man she'd loved.

Until now, love had been simply another human foible to Seven of Nine. Once, in unknowing innocence, she'd told Harry Kim that love was a disease. True, she'd later amended her statement by adding that love could as easily be a source of strength as of weakness, but that understanding had been intellectual rather than emotional.

Seeing Axum again and remembering what they'd shared had shaken her deeply. Then she'd had to face the fact that, in all likelihood, she'd never see him again. Axum was on a cube thousands of light years away. She was on Voyager, travelling ever nearer to the Alpha Quadrant- and even though they might achieve their aim and reach Earth and Federation space sooner rather than later, even though the Beta Quadrant was comparatively more accessible from Earth- Seven knew that the chance of seeing him remained slim. Axum's cube was as unlikely to remain stationary as Voyager herself was, and the Borg could travel at far greater speed….

"Seven?" Neelix's gentle voice roused her from her reverie.

"Yes?" She noticed, for the first time, how detached her voice was. How Borg she still remained. She shuddered in sudden revulsion.

"Are you alright?" Neelix pressed. He sounded- concerned- Seven thought. She did not want him to be concerned. She did not deserve his concern…

"I am- well," she told him, trying her best to make her voice warmer, less level, less Borg.

"I made you one of your nutritional supplements," the little Talaxian ventured. "You've been working so hard in sickbay with the Doctor that you need to keep your strength up."

Seven forced the still unfamiliar smile onto her lips and accepted the drink. She knew Neelix's action had been unnecessary. She'd just finished drinking her own replicated version. She did not need Neelix's, no doubt supplemented with his own additions.

She drained the glass and returned it with another of those careful smiles. "Thank you. You are very kind." She sounded stiff. Why did she always have to sound so stiff? I will try harder, she resolved. I will try to be more human…

Neelix looked as if he might say more, but instead glanced at her with those disconcertingly kind yet knowing gold eyes. He patted her shoulder and slipped away.

Seven returned to the viewport, but her gaze was unseeing. She was considering so many things. The actions of the Captain, B'Elanna, and Tuvok. The quiet support that had emanated from the rest of the crew. Chakotay's determination to see the mission through. The Doctor's unceasing research on the process of assimilation- and the efforts required to reverse it.

A random act of kindness puts us in touch with our own humanity. The phrase flashed through Seven's mind. Captain Janeway had said that to her, nearly three years ago…. And now, Seven had enough experience behind her to comprehend the truth of that statement. She'd even tested it for herself. Yet the behaviour of Voyager's Captain and crew with regard to the drones of Unimatrix Zero was more than simple kindness, and certainly it had not been random…. Sacrifice knowingly and deliberately made is never random.

A tingling sensation in her left hand caused her to look down, and she realised she'd been rubbing her right thumb over the implants that still traced the bones of her left hand. Seven froze, and slowly looked at those hands- at the perfect right one, and the marred, Borg left appendage….

Almost involuntarily, her right hand lifted to her face and traced the implant that curved around her brow. The outward, tangible evidence that she was not completely human and would never be completely human. Seven was suddenly fiercely grateful that the three patients lying in sickbay would not be left with those permanent reminders. She did not think she could endure that- to see implants protruding from Tuvok's nearly smooth head, to hear B'Elanna's fierce yet mellow tones rendered dull and impersonal by a sub-vocal processor, to see the Captain's usually mobile features made stiff and grey and unyielding….

The Captain. In an unconscious gesture, Seven bit her lip.

She remembered bending over Kathryn Janeway -her Captain, her liberator, her mentor- just after the first operation to remove the implants had taken place.

The Doctor had decided to begin the process by focusing on the larger areas- notably, the body armour that covered nearly every inch of the Captain's figure. Janeway's face had been grey from the nanoprobes that continued to course through her blood; as she lay there, still unconscious, Seven found herself thinking that she looked dead, and she was startled at the depth of her emotional response.

You will not die, Kathryn Janeway, she had thought. You will recover from this. You will take command of your ship again, and you will be wholly human…

Almost as if she could hear, Janeway's lids had fluttered open. Her eyes had seemed bluer somehow, two intense spots of colour in her otherwise pallid face.

Seven had wondered if her own eyes had contrasted in like manner with her Borg skin, but she'd pushed the thought out of her mind.

"Remain still, Captain," she had ordered, knowing that Kathryn Janeway would, as always, attempt to push herself. "We have left your spinal implants in place for the moment."

Seven had seen something very like fear flash through the other woman's eyes. The sight startled her, and shook her more than she wanted to admit. She'd never realised- until now, when it was Janeway who lay helpless- how much she'd come to rely on the older woman. True, she'd argued and rebelled and struggled against many of the Captain's precepts and dictates- but ultimately, that conflict had given Seven something to push against, something to ground herself on as she explored her own individuality.

The Captain moved her head very carefully. "Tuvok?" she'd whispered. "B'Elanna?"

"They are doing well," Seven had consoled. "They are both asleep. I suggest you follow their example, Captain."

The Captain's eyes dropped shut. Then, just as Seven was about to move away, they opened again. "Annika?"

Seven froze. She'd nearly left. Yet something held her in place- the memory of Axum's voice caressing her name, perhaps, or the Captain's observation that the Annika of Unimatrix Zero had seemed happy and comfortable in her humanity…..

For the first time in her waking life since her assimilation at the age of six, Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero One, responded to the name her parents had given her.

"Yes, Captain?"

The Captain's lips had turned up in the familiar quirk. "It worked?" She'd sounded drowsy, barely coherent.

Seven's eyes filled with rare tears. "Yes, it worked. They are free. Rest, now."

She'd watched as the Captain slid easily into sleep.

The chirp of her comm-badge roused Seven from her memories and her reverie.

Automatically, she hit it. Harry's voice, weary but triumphant, sounded.

"A transmission is coming through for you," he announced.

Seven glanced about her, and realised she was still in the mess hall, but not alone. She could hear Neelix pottering tactfully in the background, and experienced a resurge of her gratitude towards him.

"I will take the communication in Astrometrics," she informed Harry.

"No problem, Seven. Kim out."

Seven closed the channel and then crossed to stand at the galley bar.

Neelix looked up.

"I must go," Seven said. "Ensign Kim is routing a communication through to Astrometrics for me." She hesitated. "I hope- I believe- it is from one of the freed cubes. I must take it."

Neelix bobbed his head in understanding. "Of course you must, Seven. Go, go on. I hope you're right."

Seven managed a smile and headed for the doors.

Just before she went through them, she heard Neelix call her. She turned.

The Talaxian grinned at her. "You let me know right away if it's from those freed drones. I want to start planning."

Seven raised an eyebrow. "Planning?"

Neelix nodded enthusiastically. "A party. Just as soon as the Captain and the others are recovered. We'll have a grand party. This deserves a celebration!"

He sounded almost fierce as he ended, and Seven permitted her expression to relax.

"Perhaps you are correct, Mr. Neelix. A- a celebration would be a good idea." She paused, then, "It would be an affirmation."

She straightened and strode out of the mess hall with her usual briskness.

I'm not sure I'm totally satisfied with this section; I don't think the flashback is very well handled, and I'm not sure about the tenses. What do you think? Please review!