Author's note:

Well, I'm not dead, just busy. I did decide to give Katharina-B her requested Chakotay scene, along with a viewpoint from everyone's favorite ex-Borg drone.

Seven of Nine tilted her head and watched the two in front of her carefully. They were in the messhall, sharing it with only a few others. Presumably, Seven deduced, these crewmen worked nightshift and were eating their dinner.

The case of Voyager's unmasked Augment had interested Seven. Captain Janeway had reprimanded her for refusing to help the lone member of species 8472 who came aboard Voyager. Seven remembered that well: it was one of the few times she had honestly thought the captain to be an outright fool. Looking back, she had a better understanding now of what Janeway had been trying to convey.

I realize it may be difficult for you to help save this creature's life, but part of becoming human is learning to have compassion for those who are suffering, even when they're your bitter enemies. ... A single act of compassion can put you in touch with your own humanity.

Seven was conversant with human history, including the Eugenics Wars. Data of that stripe was easy to assimilate. All historical documentation she had found had indicated that the Augments were harsh and tyrannical, utterly convinced of their own superiority. Captain Archer's report of the Augment Crisis of 2154 and Captain Kirk's report of Khan's return both made it clear that humanity could have no common ground with their creations – bitter enemies, indeed, bitter as they came. She could have dismissed that as the attitudes of a bygone age, but the attitude still held sway. Upon the discovery of Kessel's true heritage, the very woman who had urged her to show compassion to the 8472 had set into play this hearing, which would deprive Kessel of her Starfleet commission. Where, then, was the compassion that Captain Janeway had asked of her?

There were other reasons. Seven's implants had given her abilities that other humans did not possess. She had an eidetic memory, and her physical strength was above human norm. She believed that this was part of why some of the crew still feared and distrusted her. What they did not realize while Seven's gifts were greater than those of her crewmates, her challenges were correspondingly more formidable. Social interaction was a source of great struggle and frustration for the Borg drone, while it seemed to come so naturally to everyone else. It seemed to her sometimes that this journey might never be over, that she might never reach the point of humanity.

The discovery that there was an Augment on the ship had interested her. There were parallels between their situations. Some of the other woman's genetic gifts corresponded to her own Borg-derived abilities. Kessel was not exactly like her, to be sure. She had been raised with humans. She had no experience of the Collective. Seven calculated that the Augment did not have the social difficulties that she herself did, although Kessel was quiet and reserved. Even so, Seven reasoned that even if the parallels were not exact, Kessel might have insights, thoughts and observations that Seven could use. At the least, she had been quite skilled at avoiding notice. This was an area where Seven knew she could improve. The skill would be useful to have in her repertoire.

The reasons she had given when she offered her assistance were true, too. Starfleet law banned the genetically enhanced from serving. Starfleet law also clearly gave Starfleet officers the right to take any means necessary to defend themselves against the Borg, including the right to destroy Borg ships and drones. She had been a Borg drone. She still had some Borg implants necessary for her survival. The conclusion was clear, if disconcerting: any Starfleet officer could disintegrate her and point to that general order as justification. On Voyager, she was confident that no one would do such a thing. Earth, however, was an unknown quantity. It was in her own interests to make sure humans were more perfect in their adherence to their principles.

Then, there was the simplest reason of all. According to the data Seven had consulted, Augments were twice as intelligent as the average human, five times as strong, and had many other improvements over their creators. If this was true, then to simply waste Kessel's abilities merely because of her origin was not merely inefficient. To Seven, who regarded efficiency in the same way that some other crewmembers regarded religion, the idea was akin to a war crime.

She was confident of her ability to contribute to the defense team. Accessing computers and finessing out data was one of her strong points. Starfleet legal codes were merely data stored in databases; she could sift those well. She was less confident of her ability to help in the current situation. Kessel was pale and shaking, staring off into space with a blank look that Seven had learned to connect with human emotional trauma. Ensign Kim was standing at the entry to the kitchen, obtaining coffee.

It was Ensign Kim, Seven recalled, who had reacted with similar frustration when his comm time with his own family had been cut short by a solar flare. That had given her the idea to seek a discussion with her aunt. She still did not completely understand the human preference for family, but she could accept it as given.

"Do not be alarmed," Seven said after spending a few moments digging for something to say.

Kessel turned her head slowly and looked at her. "My father just admitted what he'd done over subspace," she said, still sounding dazed.

"He made an eloquent case in defense of his actions," Seven pointed out.

The corner of Kessel's mouth twitched. "It's still illegal," she said. "They'll put him in prison anyway."

"Both his advanced age and his clear moral intent would weigh in favor of mitigation," Seven attempted. It did not seem to comfort the ensign. Seven shifted uncomfortably. Both Kessel's distress and her own inability to allay it was disconcerting.

She was grateful when Ensign Kim arrived. Kessel glanced at him for a long moment. Seven noticed that the Augment woman's pulse rate altered slightly when he sat down. He plonked three coffee mugs down on the table and pushed one towards each of them, taking the last for himself.

"There you are," he said. "I don't know how either of you take your coffee, but Neelix will bring over cream and sugar."

Seven stared down at the dark, glossy surface. She did not customarily drink coffee, although she had tried it at the captain's behest. Nonetheless, it seemed proper to drink with the others. The aroma was pleasant, but the taste was bitter as always.

"Better?" Kim asked with a pleasant smile.

Kessel shrugged and smiled wanly. "Yes," she said, staring down into the depths of the mug before taking another pull. Seven wondered if this was related to the 'comfort food' phenomenon she had observed among other members of the crew. Captain Janeway's preference for coffee was something she had observed. Seven found the taste disagreeable, but understood that the captain appreciated the caffeine in the beverage. Her implants mitigated the effect of caffeine. Did Kessel's genetic enhancements provide the same effect? Now seemed an inopportune time to ask.

"Look," Harry said. "It's gonna be okay."

"Okay?" Kessel said. "My parents are going to prison just for having me."

Harry shook his head. "You don't know that," he said. "Now look. I don't blame you. I'd be upset too. But we're going to get you through this. It's all going to be okay. People will see. They'll see that your dad did what he did because he believed in what he was doing. That's exactly what people need to hear. We know you're not a monster. Everyone else will, too. But you've got to be strong for right now. We've got to get you through this first, then we can worry about helping out with your family."

"What can we do from here?" Kessel asked, staring at him glassily.

"Whatever we can," Harry answered. "Look. I think we've got a good chance. There's a ton of anti-discrimination law, both for Starfleet and the Federation as a whole."

Here was a chance for Seven to add something. "There are thirty-seven separate laws and code sections forbidding discrimination based on origin," she said.

Harry glanced over at her.

"I apologize for interrupting," Seven said promptly, having learned that apologies served to cover social gaffes.

"Oh, that's okay," he said. "Besides, the last cases that came up were all at least a century old. Things have changed a lot. Tom's game plan is to hit on those laws. Those come a lot closer to Federation ideals than the ban does. It's gonna be okay. We're gonna get you through this. Believe it." He reached over and patted her hand calmly.

Seven observed the ensigns carefully. Kessel did not seem to be convinced. All the same, she seemed to draw comfort from something. Ensign Kim had said little that Kessel could not already have known. Most likely, Seven deduced, the source of comfort was Ensign Kim himself. She could understand why; they had similar interests and a similar intellectual bent. Nonetheless, their time had to be devoted to constructing a legal defense.

On the other hand, she had to admit, it was efficient.

Now came the part that worried him.

Tom Paris was good with people. He'd always had the gift of gab. Conversation always came easily to him. His ability to talk with anybody was something he'd always prized. That was going to be necessary in this trial; he had to be able to connect with the jury. On that, he was fairly confident.

But he had to have something to tell them. That meant research. Book work. That sort of thing didn't appeal to him too much, and he knew it wasn't a strength. Harry and Seven would be a great help there. Harry was a bookworm, and Seven had spent twenty years hooked into a computer by her eyeballs. All the same, he'd have to digest it and form it into a workable defense.

He wasn't looking forward to this part.

Reconciling with B'Elanna was a big weight off his mind. Part of him had known she would come around sooner or later, but sooner was much better than later. Her anger had been understandable, but a little disappointing. Even so, it was one less thing to worry about.

He knew he had to wait until Harry and Seven gave him the ore they'd mined for him to refine into a defense. All the same, he felt full of nervous energy, raring to go. He wanted to get to work. They'd have to be ready to work late.

He was surprised to see the burly figure of the first officer enter the messhall. Chakotay worked this shift. Then again, some of Chakotay's duties took him off the bridge. Chakotay walked up to the counter and grabbed a mug, waiting for his coffee.

Tom sidled up to him. "Morning, commander," he said.

Chakotay gave him a pleasant smile. "Morning," he boomed. "So you're defending Kessel instead of flying the ship."

Tom nodded.

"I heard you gave the captain an earful," Chakotay added, smiling at Neelix as he filled the mug.

Tom shrugged. "I believe in what I'm doing," he said. "The Federation is built on inclusion, not exclusion." He found himself wondering what Chakotay would make of all this. He'd been a Maquis, but he'd hewed to the rules since coming aboard.

The first officer raised a warning hand. "Don't talk to me too much about the case," he cautioned.

Tom tilted his head. "How come?"

Chakotay observed him calmly for a few moments. Then he shrugged.

"There's a limit to what I can say," he said judiciously. "I'm on the council. I may be serving as its foreman. I don't know. These laws are so old, it's hard to say. I can't talk about the case."

"I know," Tom said. "But what about generalities? You can talk to me about generalities, can't you?"

Chakotay chuckled. "Quite the attorney," he quipped. "By now, I think I'm pretty well known on the ship. A lot of people know where I stand on discrimination. I stood up for my people on Trebus, even if I disagreed with a lot of their traditions. I stood up for my Maquis, both before and after we came here to Voyager. But I didn't always stand up for them – only if I felt they were right."

"Well, yeah, everyone knows that," Tom said. "But this is different. This isn't even somebody who got genetically enhanced as a kid. She was born that way. She never asked for it."

The first officer smiled and wagged a warning finger at him. "I told you, I can't talk about the case," he said.

Tom grinned guiltily. "Sorry."

Chakotay glanced over at where his little bunch was sitting. Harry was talking with her about something. Kessel seemed to be interested if a little pained.

"Looks like Harry's chatting her up," Chakotay observed easily.

"She just got off the comm with her father," Tom said. "It's...a little rough." Dr. Kessel had zero problem in admitting what he had done. Tom didn't think it was the wisest decision. Sometimes discretion was called for.

"I suppose so," Chakotay agreed. "You know, about your friend Harry...,"

"Harry?" He'd been expecting to see what Chakotay thought about Kessel. Harry was pretty much a known quantity.

"Yes," Chakotay said. "Tell me. What do you know about his ethnic background?"

The question seemed bizarre. Tom wondered what the first officer was driving at. "Um...well, he's Asian."

Chakotay nodded. "Yes, but Asian what? Korean? Japanese? Chinese?"

Tom gave Chakotay an askance look. "I don't know," he said judiciously.

Chakotay returned the askance look. "You don't know?" he asked. "He's been your best friend for seven years now and you don't even know his ethnic ancestry?" He sounded shocked, as if the first thing they should have done was to exchange family trees.

"No," Tom said, feeling frustrated. "I never had a reason to ask. He never volunteered. It just...it wasn't anything big, it's just that neither of us mentioned it. It wasn't important."

Chakotay chuckled. "Exactly," he said. "It isn't important. Not now. It used to be, though. Where is he from again? South Carolina?"

"Yes," Tom said, wondering where Chakotay was going with all this. "Charleston."

"Mmmm." Chakotay took a pull at his mug. "There was a time when Harry's race would have meant quite a lot, you know. In fact, it wasn't too long before the project that resulted in the Augments started off."

Tom shrugged. "Really?"

"Yep," Chakotay said. "In the late 19th century, the United States restricted immigration. There were laws that excluded Chinese people specifically, and there were other laws that banned Asians in general. There was one Supreme Court case that decided an Indian fellow couldn't become an American citizen just because he was from India, and they were barred by law – that was in the twenties. It wasn't until 1943 that Asians could become American citizens. The Augment project started off in the late sixties, early seventies, I think – not that long after. So, time was, Harry's ethnic background would have been very important once. So important, in fact, that it would have determined whether or not his parents could have gone to South Carolina to have him. But now it isn't even important enough to mention between two friends. Funny, isn't it?"

Tom blinked. Chakotay knew this stuff pretty well. His knowledge of the twentieth century mostly extended to cars, sci-fi movies, and rock and roll. "Yeah, but Harry's not the one in trouble," he said.

"True, but I can't talk to you about Kessel's case," Chakotay said. "I'm talking about Harry. But think about it. His ethnic background isn't important now. But at one time, it was hugely important. I guess we've grown as a species since then. Funny how that works, isn't it?"

Tom chuckled himself and felt better. He wasn't that dense, and he saw the point.

"Yeah," he said. "Funny how that works."

Chakotay paused, clearly mulling over whatever he was about to say.

"I guess you've done a little growing yourself," he said after a moment. "I was...a little surprised you took this on."

Tom sighed. He'd been expecting this, in a way. He'd been a completely different person when he first came aboard Voyager. He'd hoped that people might come to trust him, and he'd worked hard for that – but sometimes it always came back to smack him in the face.

"Like I said," he said slowly, "I believe in what I'm doing."

Chakotay waved as if to push away any offense. "Don't get me wrong, Lieutenant. You've worked hard to turn yourself around. I know that. And I think you do believe in what you're doing, and that says a lot. Even the fact that you've stuck up for somebody else says a lot. But legal work isn't anything like flying a ship."

That was exactly what he'd been thinking about. He squirmed a little, sensitive to the implied criticism. He wasn't just a thrill-seeking flyboy. Or if he was, then maybe it was time he became something more.
"I know book work isn't my strong point," he said. "But I've got Harry and Seven to back me up on that. It's not just research, either. We have to make a message out of all that. That's my job."

"Oh, I know," Chakotay said mildly. "I'm not trying to insult you, Tom. I think it's great. Says you've grown. I just want you to know what you're getting into."

"I know," Tom said grimly.

"You'll do fine. I'm looking forward to seeing what defense you present." Chakotay seemed uncomfortable. "Really. I need to get some reports from the department heads. Personally, I wish you the best of luck, and I know you'll give it your best."

It sounded rather like stale platitudes, but Tom suspected that Chakotay genuinely meant the good wishes. But before success or failure came a lot of hard work. Harry and Seven had identified the relevant laws they'd need. They'd have to keep at that for a while. He wanted everything he could have. They'd have to hammer that out, and then figure out what strategies Tuvok was likely to try and figure out counters.

"I know what I'm getting into," he muttered at the first officer's departing back. "Believe me. I know."