Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and anything related to it does not belong to me.

A.N. *Bows head in shame* Okay, so this chapter's up a wee bit later than I expected it to be. In all fairness, it was really hard to write! I usually have no problems writing Seven, but this time I'm not at all sure if I've made her too Borg-y. Let me know what you think!

Chapter One

"Warning! Regeneration cycle incomplete!"

Seven stepped out of the alcove sharply, as though the metal had burned her. She didn't dream, but regenerating wasn't a process where she could forget about the day's troubles, unlike sleep. Instead, she processed the events that had occurred since her last cycle, analysing them in her mind before they became stored forever in her cortical node.

She would have preferred to forget completely about the events of the previous day but that was just not possible. Not for her. But Seven was good at disregarding memories and emotions that were irrelevant- her experience in the matter was plentiful.

But she couldn't ignore the Equinox just yet. She still had a report to write and submit. Not one to procrastinate, she walked to the Cargo Bay console and began to log the events with a level of detail that most would find excessive. Silently, she hoped to cover the events sufficiently enough so that there would be no room for doubt when Commander Chakotay and Captain Janeway finally received it and that there would be no need for any more questions to be asked. Then, perhaps, she could store her own personal memories of the proceedings away where she would never, ever have to access them again.

Sometimes the Doctor regretted having emotional subroutines. Sometimes he simply regretted being modelled on a human. After all, if he had been modelled on, say, a Vulcan doctor, he expected that he would be able to look at this particular situation logically and instead of assigning the guilt that desperately needed to be placed on himself, he would have dumped it on Rudy Ransom or Max Burke.

Surely then this report would be easier to write.

The console screen was by no means blank. He had reported in great detail how he had become stranded on board the Equinox and his subsequent discovery by the crew. In fact, he had gotten as far as Burke's suggestion that he extract the codes for the power relays from Seven's cortical array and his subsequent refusal, even in the face of cybernetic oblivion.

It was there he had come to a complete halt, unsure how to continue. He knew that the events had to be recorded and recorded accurately. He certainly couldn't hide from them.

But he was ashamed. Doctors, even the holographic variety, were ingrained with one rule, one ethic. Do no harm.

He had inflicted harm on a patient. Never mind that he had healed said patient as soon as he had regained the use of all his faculties. As a doctor, he had still caused harm.

And that answered his dilemma, in a way, on how to continue. While the Doctor's medical reports were always clear, concise and detailed in a way that would allow any future doctor of the patient to make use of them, his reports on away missions were generally a bit more flamboyant. In the past, he had made the most uneventful harvesting mission sound dramatic. It was just his way.

This report would be different. He would detail it with the same care he would any medical report because this time, he could not portray himself as the hero who gallantly arrived to save the day. No, this time he was the villain and he would describe his actions in a manner as serious as they deserved.

Chakotay retreated from the Captain's Ready Room, followed by Tuvok. It had been one hell of a morning. He, along with Tuvok and several members of his security staff, had debriefed the five remaining members of the Equinox's crew. The final decision would ultimately be the Captain's, but both Chakotay and Tuvok agreed that as soon as Voyager was fully repaired, they would being integrating the five crewmen into the running of the ship, firstly under supervision and then, barring any problems, after a period of a month or so they would be left to work at their respective department chief's discretion. The only reason they weren't being put to work straight away was due to a lack of personnel available to supervise them.

The events on board the Equinox were beginning to be pieced together. Chakotay only had to collect reports from two more people before the final tale could be put together. Entering the turbolift, he asked the computer, "Computer, locate Seven of Nine."

"Seven of Nine is in Engineering," the distinct voice of the computer replied.

He ordered the lift to Engineering, unsurprised by Seven's location. Anyone who could hold a hyperspanner had been drafted to the engineering department for the duration of the repairs. He just hoped that B'Elanna and Seven were playing nicely in among the chaos.

And chaos it was. The noise was the first thing that hit Chakotay as the doors slid open to. Personnel were swarming all over Engineering and although he couldn't see her, he could hear B'Elanna issuing orders to various crewmembers. Staring around, trying to stay out of everyone's way, Chakotay searched the sea of Starfleet uniforms for a colour that didn't blend in.

There- a flash of dark pink! As he drew closer it became easier to make out the distinct form of Seven of Nine. Toolkit in hand, she was right beside an open Jeffries Tube. Chakotay, damned if he was going to chase her though the inner workings of the ship, called out her name in order to get her attention.

"Seven!"

From his position, several feet away, Chakotay heard the thud as Seven, obviously startled after being distracted from her work, raised her head sharply and it collided with the edge of the Jeffries Tube. Wincing, he rushed towards her.

Anyone else would have let out a litany of curses, but Seven merely raised her hand to her head. Pain flitted across her features as she probed the wound delicately, before drawing her hand away. Chakotay saw the red tinge of blood on her fingers as he drew closer, before she surreptitiously wiped them on her biosuit, which was already filthy with the various undefined substances that seemed to stain every surface in Engineering.

"Sorry!" He apologised, "I didn't mean to startle you." He raised a hand towards her head, "Let's see how bad the damage is."

As Seven bowed her head to allow him to inspect the wound, she spoke in a low voice, "Your apology is unnecessary, Commander. You were not the cause of the accident."

He wondered, briefly, what had held her attention so rapt, but he was distracted by the blood that had stained her hair. The cut was small and not bleeding much, but the fact that she had hit her head hard enough to break the skin concerned him. He drew his hands away, careful not to press against the cut. "It doesn't look too bad, but you might want to get the Doctor to treat it. You wouldn't want it to get infected," he suggested lightly.

The words were barely out of his mouth before Seven's head darted up again. "No!" Chakotay inspected her, surprised by her stark refusal. "I have work to complete and my nanoprobes will repair the damage," she tried to assure him.

Normally, Chakotay would have let the subject drop, unwilling to get into an argument with the former Borg about her work ethic. But the paleness of her face as the blood rapidly drained out of it and the guilt he felt for startling her in the first place, regardless of her absolving him of it, made him press a little harder. "There are enough people here to cover you for a few minutes," he said. "And it would be inefficient if you passed out in a Jeffries Tube because you had a concussion."

She was giving him that glare- the one that said quite clearly, "Passing out is a human weakness. I am Borg. Borg do not pass out."

Ready to give in, he tried once more, "I'm going to Sickbay in a few minutes anyway."

The glare softened and Seven shook her head. "Thank you for your concern, Commander, but it is unnecessary. I must report to the Doctor later, and if the discomfort persists I will consult him at that time."

Agreeing to the compromise, Chakotay came back to the reason he was searching for her in the first place. "Anyway, I'm here to collect your report on the Equinox, if it's ready."

Nodding once, Seven strode over to a console and withdrew the correct pad from a stack of them that were piled beside the workstation. "Is that everything, Commander?" she asked as she handed it to him.

"Yes, thanks. I'll let you get back to your work. I'd better go before I get drafted," he joked. She raised the ocular implant that replaced her eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Tuvok and Chakotay could have sworn he saw a brief smirk pass across her lips. But he blinked, and it was gone.

As he left Engineering, Seven turned back to the Jeffries Tube, crawling through it, eager to hide from the world. She hadn't expected that flash of nearly debilitating emotion when Commander Chakotay had suggested she go to Sickbay. She had felt the blood drain from her face as she thought of the Doctor operating on her with his medical instruments. But now that it had passed, she merely felt fatigued.

She rarely saw the advantage of deceit. It was a human trait that she generally despised and found problematic. However, that hadn't stopped her from employing it as a tactic today and feeling immensely grateful when it had worked.

She came to a halt, realising she had passed the section she was supposed to be repairing. This had to stop- she had to put these distracting emotions to the side. She would not allow them to effect her work, nor would she let them change how she functioned while she was off duty. She would meet with the Doctor that evening. She would sing with him and she would enjoy it.

She would make sure of it.

When Chakotay entered Sickbay, in search of the Doctor, he was greeted by the sight of Ensign Parks on one of the biobeds, the pants of his uniform shredded to the knees and both his legs were a bloody mess of scratches and cuts. The injury looked painful but not serious, however the Doctor's sombre expression made Chakotay wonder if the injury was more problematic than his own untrained eye could see.

He decided against it as the Doctor ran a dermal regenerator over Parks legs and the skin healed, going from pink to its more natural tan. He hopped off the biobed with a promise to get a new uniform and to be more careful, leaving Chakotay to speak to the Doctor.

"Should I assume that you're here for my report on the events on board the Equinox, Commander, since you appear quite healthy?"

Straight to business, unlike the usual actions of the Doctor. Normally, Chakotay would be treated to(or forced to endure, it depended on your interpretation) a catalogue of anecdotes on what injuries the crew had subjected themselves to, and worse, that Neelix's cooking had inflicted upon them. Perhaps he'd just had a busy morning, Chakotay thought, as the Doctor retrieved his report from his office. Still, it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Everything okay, Doctor?"

The hologram extended his arm, pad in hand and expression still grave. As Chakotay took it, adding it to Seven's, the Doctor gave his answer. "It's all in my report, Commander."

Chakotay looked up at him but he had already turned away, collecting his tools and putting them back in their proper place. The answer disturbed him.

These reports had changed position on his list of priorities. In fact, Chakotay resolved, they were the first thing he needed to sort out.

A.N. Pants? Trousers? I'm not good at converting everything into American-isms. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. I won't make any promises about when the next one will be up because I go back to Uni next week and I've seriously neglected my coursework. But I shall try and upload it in the next week or so.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!

~Sweetdeath04