OK, here's the deal: 78 hits on the last chapter and if this one craters, and I know there's nothing YOU can do about it, then I'm truncating the story and bailing as it's a lost cause.

Thanks for the reviews and the hits, all 78 of you. I guess shamy wins again. Or lenny. I hate lenny or plenard.

Taken 3

Kathryn Janeway sat at her workstation reviewing reports. There were reports from Engineering, Astrometrics, Housekeeping, Weapons, Accounting, Stores, every damned micro unit in the complex animal that was Voyager.

And now she had to deal with the appearance of the Harvester Probe and its occupant. Janeway grimaced when she remembered the battle cry that had greeted the assembled crew when the probe released its containment buffer and this 'Cooper' made his appearance.

'Thank God it was paint and not a primitive projectile from that era. Still, Security responded with the appropriate degree of force and it had only taken a few moments for the EMH to clear my vision.'

Her door chimed and she glanced at the monitor and smirked. Her visitor from the Dark Ages. She ordered a tea service from the Replicator and then released the door lock and bade her visitor in with a wave of her hand and a friendly smile.

"Welcome to the Starship Voyager, Dr. Cooper. I'm Captain Katheryn Janeway. Please sit down. I'm having tea."

"I – I thought this was a mental institution at first. Now I'm convinced of it. What have you done with the doctors and nurses who run this place? You know that if any harm has come to them it will not go well for you."

Janeway almost laughed at the thin man standing in front of her. He seemed so sure of himself and so condescending. She decided to settle his hash once and for all.

"Computer, details on Dr. Sheldon Cooper of Earth, circa 2010, please." There was brief pause and then:

'Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper, born 1980, State of Texas, United States of America. Awarded the Nobel Prize for Physics in 2014 for his research and discoveries in the field of subatomic particles, specifically, the monopole. The award was posthumous. Dr. Cooper disappeared in 2012 and declared legally dead in 2014 leaving no known kin to survive him.'

Sheldon flopped down in a chair shocked and appalled. He'd won the Nobel Prize but only after he'd disappeared. The one thing in life, his Holy Grail, and he missed it. He was bitterly disappointed.

"Doctor Cooper, are you all right? Perhaps some tea?" She could see the tears in his eyes and prepared herself for a breakdown.

"Yes. Yes, a hot beverage. I – I don't know what to say. I'm…I'm dead. I won the Nobel Prize but I'm dead. The irony is disturbing. Wait, if I'm dead, was my mother right? Is there a Supreme Being and this is His idea of the Hell she threatened me with?"

Janeway laughed but then quickly apologized. "Sorry, Doctor, but some of the crew often think they're in Hell. Let me tell you some things and then we'll discuss your future and options."

Sheldon sipped his tea and nodded. "Earl Grey with just a hint of mint. I don't believe I've ever tasted this particular blend."

"It's a problem with the Replicators. Apparently some things can't be replicated as precisely as the human taste buds require by brand. You should taste what it does to barbeque sauce."

They sipped their tea, each eyeing the other with speculation.

"Dr. Cooper, you were 'collected' by a Harvester Probe and you've been in stasis for 453 years. We intercepted the probe as it exited a wormhole we were observing. When we brought it onboard, it followed its programs and…well, for you the time spent in atoms wasn't felt or realized and you continued on with your last actions – you shot me with paint – twice!"

"Oh, dear, how dreadful! I hope you weren't injured. I was engaged in sniping at a member of the Engineering Team as a signal to trip our ambush. I'm sorry for assaulting you, Ms. Janeway. It was purely unintentional."

"It's 'Captain' or 'Ma'am', Dr. Cooper. And I just glad your militia wasn't using live ammunition. Now, tell me all about Sheldon Cooper and what life was really like back then in 2012. Our records of day-to-day life immediately before and after the War are fragmented except for history, of course, preserved in libraries, and not many of those survived the bombs and disorder that followed."

"The War? What war? The world was in a relatively peaceful period. There were religious factions warring against one another and the West in general but all the major powers seemed to be in balance, each with more to lose than gain in the event of war."

"Sadly, that balance was disrupted by a rogue state that initiated hostilities against the 'Nuclear Powers' as we've come to know them and each thought the other had attacked and…well, the rest is our history. But for now, tell me all about Dr. Sheldon Cooper, PhD and winner of the Nobel Prize. Why were you engaged in militia activities? Did you survive the War?"

"Militia activities? No! It was a paintball tournament and my team was in 2nd place. It was hardly military – it was a painful game of Capture the Flag."

"Go on. So you aren't a soldier?" She hadn't thought so but looks were often deceiving.

Sheldon loved talking about Sheldon Cooper and after rambling on for 30 minutes, the Captain suppressed a yawn and interrupted his monologue regarding the elusive monopole and String Theory.

"Dr. Cooper, this is all very fascinating but I do have a ship to run. Now, return to sick bay for a physical and then, since you're our only physicist aboard, I'll arrange for you to have the guided tour of the ship and then we'll talk about where you'll fit in best in our little 'asylum'."

Sheldon knew he'd been dismissed and nodded and then was escorted from the Captain's ready room to the sick bay where the Doctor would be waiting for him.

"Well, still in one piece, I see! Bravo, Dr. Cooper, bravo! Now, let's see how your innards are and then we'll have to see what inoculations you require. It wouldn't do to have the oldest man onboard succumb to some nasty virus or bacterium like Zyponium Pustules or Andorian Wheezing Sickness."

"Shots?" Sheldon started backing up towards the sick bay exit and the EMH knew he'd found an Achilles' heel worth exploiting.

"Oh, come now, Dr. Cooper, we do things differently here in the 25th Century. 'Replicator, a 100cc syringe with a 12 bore needle', please. We'll give you all 22 inoculations at once. That should do it, I think, don't you, Dr. Cooper?"

The EMH walked over to the Replicator and withdrew the huge syringe and needle and Sheldon passed out…and awoke on the bio-bed again with the Doctor staring down at him again, but this time with a big grin.

"While you were 'sleeping' I took advantage of you and brought your inoculations up to date." He held up a small device and smirked. "This is how we apply medications in the 25th Century, Dr. Cooper. There is no invasive methodology performed in my sick bay."

Sheldon glanced over at the nearest bio-bed and saw Borg – er – Seven of Nine, lying there while some automated gizmos performed what looked like invasive surgeries on the poor young woman's face.

"That looks invasive to me, Leonard," Sheldon carped, actually concerned about his only real acquaintance on board Voyager.

The EMH sighed and said, "Well, some of her Borg implants require 'tuning up', although I'd much prefer simply removing them but we don't know enough about them to do so safely. Her Borg components constantly try and take over her human functions and it's like her body is at war with itself. Poor child."

"She said that she'd been 'severed from her collective' and I pretended to understand but I've hardly a clue. A 'collective'. Is that some new social grouping? And why is she…oh, my. She's a cybernetic organism, isn't she? Those doohickeys on her face and neck, those are cybernetic components, correct? As in cyBORG?"

"Dr. Cooper, surely you don't think less of Seven simply because she had the misfortune to be assimilated at an early age by the Borg, do you? Prejudice is not tolerated aboard Voyager although most of the crew either resent her or are afraid of her. No one wants to be alone with Seven. Few even associate with her unless required by their duties."

"I'm not totally unfamiliar with that situation, Doctor, but why? I thought in nearly 500 years people would have lost their petty prejudices."

"The Borg…the Borg are an alien group that take over entire planets and systems, absorbing the inhabitants into their Hive Mind and assimilating their technology with their own. The individual is no more; only the Collective, the Hive Mind, remains."

"Fascinating. And the Borg all know what each knows and collectively all that knowledge available…the scientific secrets they must possess…"

"Yes, and 'possess' is the correct word. They are like scavengers, a plague of locust in more than Biblical proportion. They take everyone they encounter without mercy, without concern for the individual, and when they're done, all are Borg. You know what they say, Dr. Cooper?"

Sheldon was still dazzled by the concept of a Hive Mind, the loss of individuality and the advances that a collective mind, focused and without the encumbrance of emotion, could make in the sciences.

"Um, what? Um, no, Leonard."

"You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile. We are Borg."

Neither of them noticed that Seven of Nine was conscious and listening, processing…plotting.

"Doctor, do people still eat in the 26th Century? I'm exceedingly hungry, not having eaten since 2012."

"Ah, a sense of humor. Good one, Dr. Cooper. Let me have someone escort your to the mess hall."

"I'm not ravenous yet, Doctor. I'll wait and we can go together." He really didn't feel comfortable meeting new people and the Doctor was the only one he actually knew. Seven of Nine would never tolerate his company after he'd almost killed her.

"Dr. Cooper, that's a kind thought but…holograms don't require sustenance and besides which, I cannot leave the sick bay. My programming has not been extended to allow me to venture forth from this, my domain."

"Fascinating. They keep you here, locked away until they need you and they keep Borg, drat, Seven of Nine, in a cargo bay lest she infect them or something and then wonder why she yearns to return to her collective? And these people consider themselves 'enlightened'?"

"Well, I suppose it does appear to be that way but Captain Janeway – "

"Don't try and excuse how they treat Bor – damn it - Seven of Nine. It's hypocritical at best, cruel at worst. I know about hypocrisy and cruelty, Leonard, because I've experienced them first hand. Being 'different', not fitting into the mold, being out of step with the masses; oh yes, I know exactly how Seven of Nine feels. She's One of One now and trying to keep it together and none of you seem to give a damn!"

"Dr. Cooper, you're becoming overwrought. Perhaps the shock of knowing that everyone you ever knew, everyone you ever loved, is now dead and gone and yet here you are, has unraveled you. Yes, perhaps a sedative…"

Seven had listened carefully to Dr. Sheldon Cooper's 'rant'. She didn't think he'd spoken anything other than the truth, and decided to intervene. She was familiar with the Doctor's sedatives. She got off the bio-bed and stood, glaring at the Doctor.

"Computer, end EMH program." The look on the Doctor's face was a combination of betrayal and anxiety but it was short-lived since he disappeared.

Seven turned to Sheldon and gave him a tight-lipped smile like those she'd received, not knowing any better. "Dr. Sheldon Cooper, I will escort you to the mess hall and sit with you while you obtain sustenance. Your lack of familiarity with this environment and crew will undoubtedly get you killed."

"No, Seven of Nine. I don't want you to feel obligated and I certainly don't want you putting yourself ill at ease on my account. I'm used to being the 'odd man out', and I've learned to ignore the looks and whispers and all that comes with the role."

"I see. Perhaps it would be best if you distanced yourself from the Borg since you obviously will have enough to deal with simply finding your mouth with the fork." She took his concern for her as something else and she reacted rather than responding.

"Well, you certainly have little difficulty finding your mouth with your foot. I'll not inflict myself upon you a nanosecond more. Good day, Seven of Nine." He looked at her for just a second longer and then spun on his heel and almost ran from the sick bay.

And stopped dead in his tracks in the corridor. 'No! No more running away from reality. This is a new beginning, a clean slate for me and I'll not waste one second in flight.'

Seven of Nine looked up when the door to the sick bay opened up and in strode Dr. Cooper. She wasn't good at reading human facial expressions, never having had the need, but she understood this one easily enough – determination.

"Seven of Nine, join me. We both have much to learn about social constructs and having another sharing the task will make it easier. Would you please accompany me to the, um, the…"

"The mess hall, Dr. Cooper. Yes. What you say is logical although I don't feel the need to interact with the crew…"

"This is your new collective, Seven of Nine, as it is now mine. I can't…everyone I've ever known…gone. We must both start over. A new paradigm for each of us."

"What you propose is logical and I will comply. You should also see the Quartermaster for a replicator clothing allowance unless it is acceptable in your culture to have large portions of one's gluteus maximus exposed."

"Ah, humor. Well done. For a moment there – "

He yelped when a cold fingertip ran down the center of his left butt cheek.

"Borg have no sense of humor, Dr. Sheldon Cooper." He wasn't sure but he thought he saw the slightest twinkle in her eye and the right corner of her mouth twitch ever so slightly.