Resonance
"Thank you, ensigns," Kathryn said when she approached the cargo bay and they stepped aside.
The doors opened and Kathryn entered the space. Immediately she noticed the drone standing at the computer console, their back to her. The vision of the metal-encased figure took her all the way back to Seven's first days aboard Voyager when the Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix Zero-One had been the Borg's liaison for developing a solution against species 8472.
Seven had stood here, just like this, running calculations off Voyager's data and connecting it with the Borg's own knowledge. As Kathryn approached, she noticed the same intense concentration, and guessed that this being, too, would loathe small talk and dislike distraction.
So why had she been summoned?
Without looking up or turning, the drone stated, "You took twelve minutes 43 seconds to arrive. That is two minutes and 17 seconds longer than this cargo bay's distance from sickbay would suggest is necessary. You are inefficient."
Kathryn blinked, surprised at being called on the carpet. "Sorry."
A resonant voice addressed her dismissively, but also Kathryn heard notes of amusement and notes of compassion. "You are the captain. We are aware of your responsibilities. You have nothing to apologize for."
"Well, I…" She trailed off as she tried to decide what the drone wanted her to say. "Wait. Are you upset with me or not?"
"We are not." The drone finally stopped their data entry and turned to Kathryn. "But I am."
Kathryn gawped. The voice had gone from Borg resonant to singular – from analytical critique to Annika's concerned and caring tone in the space of a few words. And the eyes… "Annika?"
"Captain Janeway."
Rubbing her fingers on her forehead, Kathryn took a moment to gather her thoughts, trying to decide on the best course of action. Command training and experience with the Borg told her to be wary. She needed to be careful about what she said and how she said it. But hearing Annika's voice—so purely hurt—hurt Kathryn's heart. The best way forward, Kathryn realized, might be to continue bringing out the young woman. "I'm sorry for being later than you expected. It wasn't my intention."
"We tracked your progress once our request was accepted." The Borg voice was back, obviously protective of Annika.
Kathryn nodded. Stepping closer, she put her left hand on the console mere centimeters from the drone's right hand. Then she looked up into the metal-mottled face. She schooled her expression to calm and care, despite feeling slightly alarmed by the ocular sensor scanning her. She reached up with her right hand and cupped the edges of the metal skull cap. "You've regained access to your cortical node."
"Yes." Flat, blunt monotone.
"Do you have all your memories back?"
"We can access the experiences of all the individuals we have been." Yes, that was the Borg voice.
Kathryn frowned. "So you got what you wanted, Annika." She hesitated when she heard her own anger.
What Annika had done had been pragmatic. And it had been her choice, which Kathryn had always fought for the former Borg to exercise. I guess I have some of my own unprocessed anger. She exhaled and tried again. "Annika"—best to address the one she wanted to talk to—"I was against this from the start."
"We remember, captain."
If she wanted to connect with Annika, Kathryn realized, she would have to try another tactic. A personal one.
Kathryn grumbled. "Not your captain. Kathryn. I'm not happy you've lost access to your emotions. I'm not happy that this was the cost for Voyager's safety."
The drone drew back. "It was logical."
"You're not Vulcan," Kathryn snapped. "You are, or at least you were, human. Then you threw it away. Told Icheb to assimilate you. He'd do anything you ask, you knew that," she accused. "You used him to get what you wanted."
"What was needed," Annika replied.
"What was needed was solutions," Kathryn retorted.
"Without my memories I had none!" Annika shouted. "I needed Seven's memories, the logs, the data…to formulate the solution."
Kathryn was torn between stepping back and stepping closer. This was the knife's edge she remembered from facing the newly severed Borg in the brig two years ago. Would the drone strike out again now?
"Seven," she pleaded with the identity she hoped was back now, "told me once that accessing memories was like reading logs. Because the Borg had no use for the emotional connections to the concepts, it was all discarded. Humans use our emotions to process our logic."
"B'Elanna Torres' 'gut instinct'."
"Yes!" Hearing Seven's voice, that unique combination of disgruntlement and soft surprise, Kathryn couldn't contain her smile. She now recognized the tone as a hard-fought balance between Borg thought and Human emotion.
"Seven!" She bit her lip when she realized how enthusiastic she sounded.
"You were always so pleased when we learned the lessons of humanity." There was an emotional exhaustion clear in the tone.
Kathryn pressed her emotional point. "Our philosophical discussions always brought me pleasure."
"Yet you always appeared aggravated."
"I'm only human. After all, you often caught me in the middle of the night, when my defenses were low." Their banter was so familiar, Kathryn found herself relaxing. She touched the drone's wrist.
"We learned early that we should surprise you in order to receive the most accurate information."
Kathryn chuckled. "Methodical. And calculating. How very Borg of you."
"You are also calculating, captain."
Taking her hand away from the drone's implants, Kathryn stepped back. "How so?"
"When you handed us Annika's logs, what did you intend to happen?"
Instead of answering, Kathryn asked, "What happened?"
"Did you know the contents of the logs before you gave them to us?"
"Personal logs are personal," Kathryn said with a shake of her head.
"So you have said before." A PADD was held toward her. "In her two log entries, Annika spoke only of you."
Before Kathryn could think of a response, the drone spoke again. This time the voice was unmistakably Annika's. "I spoke of the love I feel for you."
"I—"
"We found the emotional content unhelpful if we were to deal with you." The drone voice was back. "So we searched the computer for more information about Captain Kathryn Janeway."
Knowing the Borg's ability to get anywhere and everywhere in Voyager's systems, Kathryn swallowed. "What did you find?"
"1,082 personal log entries were recorded by Seven of Nine."
Kathryn inhaled, startled. She had been in Seven's personal logs before, accessed a few of them with Harry's help when the young woman had been "called back" to the Raven. But the number just mentioned suggested Seven had recorded multiple times a day, nearly every day she'd been aboard Voyager. She thought of how detailed Seven's recall had been during her paranoia about the alien catapult.
She exhaled, reminded of kneeling and begging on the floor of a shuttle. Worried, she asked, "That's quite a lot of information. Did you...were you able to make sense of it?"
"Seven of Nine shared reflections regarding many individuals aboard this ship."
"She made a lot of friends," Kathryn agreed.
"She did eventually consider many of them friends. Friends for whom she would lay down her life."
"We care for her, too," Kathryn replied.
"You cared for her. You, Captain Janeway." The voice, Annika's again, was sharp. "This is why you couldn't care for me."
Kathryn shook her head. "I told you I care for you because you're you," Kathryn said. "It just took me some time to understand it. I care for all of you: Maryl, Penny, the son of K'Vok...Even the part that is Ferengi Daimon Torot and wanted to buy half the ship."
Kathryn chuckled wryly at the memory. Covering the drone's hand on the console, she felt the Borg mesh and metal warm from connection with the human systems, working once again. Relief flooded through her.
"And Seven. Yes, I love Seven of Nine…" The drone turned away from her. "...wait". She turned the drone's face, caressing Borg implant and remaining skin alike. "I didn't expect it, but I...did...do…but you shouldn't be jealous. She's all of you."
Our body felt Kathryn's hand grip ours. With great care not to damage delicate human flesh, we squeezed back.
Seven held Annika tightly in the midst of a sea of assimilated individuals. The captain's words had been heard by them all. Penny was smiling, Maryl giggling. Even K'Val, the son of K'Vok, had a look of admiration on his face. Seven herself was uncertain, though she did recognize that, contrary to the Borg-imposed restraint on emotions, she did feel. She knew the collective had agreed that Annika speak for them, but at the moment she heard that the captain loved her, loved Seven of Nine, she had gripped Annika's arm, ready to demand a moment to speak.
Not for them. But for herself.
Captain Kathryn Janeway...whom she had fought with, and argued with, who challenged her to embrace her experiences emotionally even when Seven had been afraid...Kathryn Janeway loved her.
She remembered Annika's log: I do love her. Her presence eases me and her laughter lightens me.
Were she to contribute her thoughts to a log now, Seven realized she would wholeheartedly agree.
When had that happened?
A cascade of moments—arguing in the brig, arguing in the ready room, looking up at the woman's grinning sweaty face after yet another victory in Velocity, tucking the woman into her stasis tube before traversing a deadly nebula. The two of them clinking glasses at the Ancestors Day celebration... In her last memory she was sitting next to the captain hearing her say, "I don't want you to go," as Seven considered the offer from the Think Tank.
A soul-deep understanding washed through every synapse.
As Annika sobbed against Seven's chest, her emotions flowed through all of them. Seven took over, directing the drone's body to look into Kathryn's eyes. The Borg overlay of biometric readings rendered the woman's face in shades of yellow and orange, but also cool blues – her eyes. She focused her attention there.
"You have great importance to us, Kathryn."
Kathryn Janeway chuckled and the sound of it traveled over our auditory receptors, rendering us temporarily mute.
With alarm, she asked, "What do you want me to call you? Which of your personalities is in charge?"
"We are all here." The drone tilted its head, so uncannily Seven, Kathryn found herself biting her lip. "But we would prefer the name Seven. It's still imprecise, but it is…the identity we have had the longest."
Kathryn studied the figure before her in concern as she recalled how the drone had lumbered into the alcove. She couldn't help thinking it had looked uncomfortable. But she had learned her lesson and was done assuming anything. "I understand that you needed the assimilation to reconnect your cortical node to your Borg implants. The process saved your life. And it saved Voyager, so I'm doubly grateful."
She didn't realize she had moved her hand over what appeared to be an inert wrist until it jerked and tried to turn over, to catch her hand. She recognized the tips of tubules for nanoprobe injection.
"What is it you want to ask?"
She looked up into Seven's face. "Are you uncomfortable? I noticed your knees…and your wrist..."
"We required additional enhancements to our skeletal structure to subdue the Hirogen," Seven stated. "And our tubules delivered the nanoprobes to breach the computer systems and find answers."
"Does that mean you're keeping everything?" Kathryn asked.
"In consultation with the Doctor, we should be able to remove many of the external implants."
"Without endangering your life?"
"Without endangering our life."
Kathryn smiled. "May I walk with you to sickbay?" She wanted to stay by Seven's side.
The drone's head tilted again and Kathryn felt another gentle squeeze on her hand.
"I have questions."
"You're asking me?"
"You have said you enjoy our philosophical discussions."
"I did. I do. But now?"
"Was that too much of a surprise?"
Kathryn chuckled. "I think I'll manage. It's not two a.m., so…my quarters?"
The drone's progress was slow. And a few times, Kathryn caught an arm to keep her from falling into a wall. When they finally reached the turbolift, Seven turned to Kathryn.
"Are you physically attracted to me?"
"That's not the opening line to a philosophical discussion," Kathryn chastised. "Let's get to my quarters, and I'll get us something to drink."
Seven remained quiet as they moved through the corridors and finally, Kathryn breathed a sigh of relief as they reached her quarters. "Have a seat."
"I prefer to stand." Kathryn frowned as she studied Seven again. Right. The Borg don't "bend." Move on. "I'm going to have a coffee. What would you like?"
"I do not require liquids."
Why do I keep sticking my foot in it? Kathryn sighed. "Right. I'm sorry. This isn't working out very well for you." She stood, even though she would have preferred to sit, but she wanted Seven to be comfortable. "Maybe we should talk to the Doctor sooner rather than later."
"If the surgery does not work. If I am left like this?" Seven asked. "A relationship between us will not work out at all."
"We can slow down. I've only just admitted how I feel, after all."
"And I have not 'felt' in some time."
Kathryn reminded her, "Annika did and you have access to her experiences now."
"She was jealous." The distaste was surprisingly clear.
"So we both…all…have a lot to learn." Kathryn paused with a smile, moving forward to grasp Seven's hand. "But, Seven, you will always be you, no matter what you look like. And that is who I care about: you."
