Chapter Six

Kathryn examined the expressionless face of her erstwhile protege, words, at the moment, having deserted her. At first she thought that this must be some cruel trick of Margaret's – but that lady was not present on the planet and could not be questioned. Margaret, it would seem, had a great affinity for these half-drones, these Cassandras as they called themselves. Did she know who Seven really was? Had she always known, had she engineered this transformation? Kathryn shook her head slightly and gathered herself to the best of her ability.

She said simply, "You've altered your physiology," in an attempt to speak without indicating judgment or alarm.

And then the expressionless face, which had been expressionless or nearly so for the better part of a decade, began to change. The corner of Seven's mouth turned up in a wry smile. She looked Kathryn up and down, her lids half-closing in a withering gaze. And she said, with laughter in her voice, "Is that the best you can do, Kathryn?"

"I – I'm not sure what you mean." Kathryn trying with little success to control the rapid-fire beating of her heart in her chest. Seven's ocular implant, the Borg technology that had for so long overwhelmed her lovely features, was gone, and in its place was a jagged scar. Kathryn wanted so badly to believe that it was all a horrible joke, perhaps even a nightmare typical of her own restless sleep.

"You've changed," she repeated hazily. "You've become one of them. Seven... Who did this to you? Why?"

Seven continued to smile, and she seemed to take some amount of pleasure in the effect she was eliciting. "You know very well why," she said evenly. "The Ultimate Starfleet Officer. I needed a way to escape, and I've come out the other side." She leaned toward Kathryn, the sarcastic lines on her face deepening into mockery. "Don't be so scared. I can still fly a ship, and ever since this little operation I've been feeling quite the need for speed, so I think you'll be satisfied."

Kathryn took a step back, her face ashen. "You - you've been assigned to take me to the cube."

"What's wrong, Kathryn? Don't you think it's fitting that I should go with you? We've had our day, haven't we, with the Borg? Sometimes I used to feel as if it were you and I against the world. But of course I could never tell you that. I could never tell you how you protected me all those years, kept me safe." Seven breathed a frustrated sigh, and shrugged her shoulders. "But now I suppose I can tell you anything I want, can't I. I can tell you anything I feel. You see, I'm free now."

Kathryn parted her lips to speak, but again found herself without words. Seven, in a gesture not to have been imagined in a thousand years, reached out her hand, offering it. Although she was stunned, Kathryn took the cold, gloved hand and held it. She could feel the Borg technology in this hand, pressing against her pale skin.

"Trust me," said Seven quietly. The scorn had disappeared from her face, and her eyes shone into Kathryn's. "Fly with me. The two of us are unstoppable together; don't you believe that still? Let's forget the past, it doesn't matter anymore. We can beat this, together, like always, Kathryn."

There were so many reasons to abandon this fight; so many pillars of logic to fall back on in order make the right choice. But something, perhaps that same unknown force that had often overtaken her judgment since her return from Voyager, silenced Kathryn's logic and made her vulnerable to this call to arms. "Like always," she replied, her voice rising like a question, tears stinging her tired eyes.