Chakotay stirred his fork through his rice and mushrooms. He leaned on one elbow and stared in the general direction of his orange juice.
"Wasting food?" Janeway asked.
"What happened down there?" he said.
"I take it the debriefing didn't go well?"
"No, it's not that," Chakotay said. "Sqilookle was aboard the Flyer. You and Hununga were on top of the hill. What did you see?"
Janeway lay down her fork and crossed her fingers. "Lieutenant Keegan threw a tree branch at the lifeform and hit it in the mouth. It hurt the creature enough to make it let go of Ensign Nureek. I'm thinking about giving Mister Keegan a commendation for it. Why?"
"Was there any reason for him to break Ensign Nureek's arm?" Chakotay asked.
"No. None that I could see. I assumed the creature did that."
"The Doctor said the fracture was caused by a human hand crushing Nureek's arm."
"Perhaps it was the adrenaline," she replied. "Lieutenant Keegan did things I thought only a Vulcan could do."
"Doesn't that seem odd?"
"Considering the situation, no," Kathryn said. "Maybe the Doctor was mistaken. He seemed to have a glitch."
"I know. I'm having B'Elanna check that out."
"What did Lieutenant Keegan say about the incident?"
The commander leaned back in his chair. "He called it the stupidest thing he had ever done. He couldn't believe he threw a stick at the creature and hit it."
"He told me the same thing. It worked though."
"It had to," Chakotay responded.
"Excuse me?"
"B'Elanna reviewed the orbital sensor logs. A creature emitting that kind of radiation would be immune to normal phaser fire."
"You think Keegan knew? How? And if he did, why wouldn't he mention it?" She leaned back. "Did you review his tricorder logs?"
"They'd been purged. It looked like routine maintenance."
"That bothers you," she said.
"Yes."
"What would he have to hide?"
"Could he have taken some kind of stimulant?" Chakotay asked. "That might explain his actions. What was he like during the trip?"
"Witty, educated, amiable. He told me a story about a party at MIT—"
"Which one?"
"Massachusetts. I never realized how insane some geniuses could be."
Chakotay shrugged. "But he showed no unusual behavior? He doesn't sound like the same person that was in Astrometrics."
"He said he has issues with Seven." The captain sipped some coffee. "Did he have family members at Wolf 359?"
"I don't know," Chakotay said. "We've had a few losses to the Borg ourselves. He said he was cautious around Seven because she had fallen under Borg control at various times since regaining her humanity. That explains his actions towards Seven, but... Maybe this is all coincidence. We've been attacked by so many enemies, we're beginning to look for them among the crew."
"Are we becoming paranoid in our old age?" Janeway asked.
Chakotay laughed. "You're only paranoid if they're not out to get you."
The captain spread her hands. "I'll talk to Mister Keegan. I'm sure this is nothing, and I don't want to randomly accuse the hero of the day."
The commander sighed. "Well, if nothing else, I have my appetite back."
Captain Janeway walked through the dark corridors in the bowels of the ship towards the Computer Core. She stopped just outside the doors, shook her head, stepped through and found the room empty. She took three steps when Lieutenant Keegan's torso, his hands behind his neck, swung down from the ceiling.
"Captain?" the lieutenant said.
"What are you doing, Mister Keegan?"
"Inverted sit-ups. I have a lot of slow time down here. I exercise to pass the time." He dropped to the floor, landing on his feet. "What brings you down here?"
"I had a few questions about the away mission."
He sighed. "'No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.'"
"This isn't a witch hunt, Lieutenant."
"No, that would depend on what kind of witch I am." He sat on the computer console. "I guess I'm your new puzzle."
"Mister Keegan?"
"Captain, Voyager would not have made it this far if not for your ability to solve problems. But you're locked into a constantly curious state."
"Not without reason," Janeway said.
"I never said there wasn't, but if you don't have a problem in front of you, you go looking. It's necessary, and I understand that. It's been slow lately, so here you are. I just don't want to be your new mystery."
"I have to ask why," she said.
"Do you want every part of your life examined?"
"Oh. I understand. Tell me, why did you use a stick?"
"I have no idea." He shrugged. "It just seemed the right thing to do. How is Tadao?"
"Recovering. He's already on his feet. You exhibited some medical knowledge on the planet."
"Oh, that," Keegan said. "For a while, you thought about recruiting a new doctor from the general crew. At the time, I didn't like my job, so I started studying. But, I found a better job, and you found a better doctor."
"Why did you purge the tricorder records?"
"I always do," he said.
"That's not Starfleet procedure."
He shook head. "When Mister Paris took his trip through Warp Ten, he dumped a great deal of navigational information in the computer."
"Yes," she replied.
"This wouldn't be a problem if we had access to a Starbase. We could dump our unnecessary data. I don't have that luxury. We need that navigational data. Other information is less vital and must be purged. We had the scans from the Flyer, so the tricorders had to go."
"You should alert me before you do something like this, Lieutenant."
"I did. I sent you a memo four years ago." He shrugged again. "You signed it."
The captain sighed. "I'm sorry for this. I have no other questions. I guess I'll see you at the dinner."
"I guess you will."
"And, Lieutenant, try to be nicer to Seven."
"I'll try."
Kathryn sat back, idly poking her omelet. She read from a PADD.
"Well?" Chakotay asked.
"His memo and my signature at the bottom of it. I found it along with a dozen others I signed the same day." She dropped the PADD. "I vaguely remember thinking how good it was to have a department head who worried about the small details. Are we really that paranoid?"
"Not without reason," Chakotay replied.
"He answered every question. Perfectly. Without hesitation." She waved her hand. "I say problem solved. Let's move on to the next away mission."
"I agree."
Eight days later, at seventeen hundred hours, all thirty-plus ensigns and lieutenants gathered for an informal dinner with Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay and some other members of the senior staff. Mister Neelix puttered around the mess hall providing food or drink whenever asked while the attendees chatted aimlessly about the away missions. At the center of a small clutch of people stood Lieutenant Keegan, shaking his head and denying, again, that he did anything special. Tadao Nureek stood next to him and denied every denial. At last, the captain tapped her glass, and they all took their seats.
"A toast," she said. "To surviving an afternoon with your captain."
Laughter and cheers followed.
"And, if anyone wants the job permanently," Chakotay said. "See me after the meal. I need the time off."
More laughter followed by gratuitous food consumption.
"So, Philip," B'Elanna began.
"You two know each other?" the captain said.
"He served in Engineering for a few months. Tell me, Philip, how's the Computer Core?"
"Dark and quiet, just the way I like it."
"Not like your women," she said.
Tom perked up. "Something I should know about?"
"Relax, Mister Paris," Philip Keegan said. "I never dated a woman who punched me, and I'm not about to start."
"That's half of B'Elanna's charm." Tom put a hand on his wife's shoulder.
"Does the other half involve a leather whip?"
"A gentleman tells no tales," Tom said.
"But, that's half of a man's charm," Keegan retorted.
"Phil," B'Elanna said. "Remember that part about punching?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Mister Neelix," Kathryn said. "I believe you have a special desert prepared?"
"Yes, Captain. Home-baked pecan pie."
"Where did you get the pecans?" she asked.
"Well, they're pecan-like."
She put up her hands. "That's good enough."
"You have whipped cream, don't you?" Tom said.
Neelix's eyes widened, and he ran off.
"Seven," Chakotay said with a nudge.
"Yes, Commander," she replied with some reluctance. She took a breath and leaned towards Lieutenant Keegan. "Mister Keegan. I wanted to say ... you run the Computer Core in an efficient manner."
The lieutenant looked first at Chakotay, then the captain, then at Seven. He shrugged. "Thank you, Annika."
She let out a hard breath. "I have asked you before not to refer to me in that manner."
"Why not?" he said.
"That is not my name."
"Then why did you twitch when I said it?"
Seven's eyes narrowed. "Please do not refer to me by that name."
"Why not?"
"It is not my name," she said sternly.
"It's the name your parents gave you," he replied. "Your human parents. Do you remember them, Annika?"
"That is not my name," she said.
"Then why do you care if I use it?" he asked.
"Mister Keegan," the captain said. "I believe it's up to Seven what name we use."
"But, Captain," he countered. "You're not using a name. You're using a Borg designation. Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero. That's not a name, it's a serial number. Is she a person or a convenient household appliance?"
"Lieutenant," the captain said harshly. "That type of language is not necessary here. Seven is a person and due a certain amount of respect."
"Goddammit!" He hit the table hard, rattling silverware in a wide radius. "I am sick of you people coddling this woman! But she's not a woman is she? She's a sixteen-year-old girl with the emotional development of an eight-year-old trapped in the body of a Penthouse Pet. My only crime was calling her by her name."
"That is not—" Seven said.
"Your damn name. I heard you the first time. Why not? Why are you running from it?" he said loud and fast.
"I don't understand your question," Seven replied.
"Are you afraid of them?"
"Of who?" she said.
"Your parents," he replied.
"No. Why would I be afraid of my parents?"
"What are their names?" he asked.
"I do not see how that is relevant."
"All right. What are their Borg designations?"
"Mister Keegan!" Janeway said.
Seven dropped her face and bounced her eyes around the table as if deciding in exactly what part of Lieutenant Keegan's jugular to place them.
"Are you human or Borg?" Keegan's eyes never moved from Seven.
"What?" Seven asked.
"Have you looked for your family?"
"My family?"
"Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. Have you looked for anyone else in the Hansen clan?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I see no purpose in it." Her voice was calm against his fire.
"Are you human or Borg?"
"I believe I have made my choice clear."
"And how the hell are we supposed to know that?" he said. "Half the time you tell us you want to be human, the other half you tell us how much more efficient the Borg are. You claim you're a human with an identity, but you use a Borg designation. Any problem comes up, you find the Borg way out but tell us how human the decision was. You've been able to eat and sleep normally for three-and-a-half years but you spend your nights in a regeneration chamber. How long do we have to wait for you to pick one of these two sides?"
"Lieutenant," Captain Janeway said. "Seven is trying to find her own path."
"Oh, good god," he groaned. "She's a child. How emotionally stable were you at sixteen? Or eight for that matter? She needs guidance. At least more than you've shown her."
Kathryn dropped her jaw and sat back. The rest of the table gasped.
"I had the experiences of the Collective—" Seven began.
"And we're back to the perfection of the Borg! You may be indecisive, but you're consistent."
"I have chosen humanity," she said firmly.
"Then prove it. Do something human. Get laid, get wasted, try some inflection for god's sake. Shout at me." He was standing now, leaning on his fists and staring at her. She stared back with her jaw held tight.
"Yelling is—" she began.
"An inefficient use of vocal energy?"
"Unwarranted. I have made my choice clear."
He straightened and took a deep breath, loud in the silent room.
"Perhaps I should go," he said.
Neelix stepped forward with a pie plate in his hand. "You'll miss the pie," he said.
Lieutenant Keegan looked at the desert and at Neelix. "Thank you, Mister Neelix, I'm on a diet." He walked out of the room.
Seven held her hand out to Neelix. "Mister Neelix, please hand me the desert." She took a bite of it while the rest of the table watched. She chewed slowly and swallowed. "You are correct, Mister Paris. The whipped cream has a beneficial influence on the taste of the desert. I suggest we eat."
Two days later, Lieutenant Keegan sat in a corner of the galley, far from any other crew, munching a pasta dish and reading from his PADD. B'Elanna, a mug of coffee in one hand and a Danish in the other, walked to his table and sat down. She waited and began tapping her fingernails until he looked up.
"Yes, B'Elanna?" he said.
"This place is almost empty."
He put his PADD down. "I like it that way."
"I've noticed that, Phil. What are you working on?"
He slid the PADD over. She read through it.
"Cochrane's Unclaimed Thesis?" she said. "When you transferred out of Engineering, you told me you weren't any good at this."
"No," he said, taking the PADD back. "I said I could do a better job in the Computer Core."
"Phil, what's wrong? I'm the closest thing you have to a friend. Tell me something, please?"
"Is the captain upset?"
B'Elanna tapped her fingers again. "No. She's disappointed. Do you blame her?"
He sat back and crossed his hands. "Yes, I do."
"What?"
"Every member of the crew needs something to help maintain their sanity," Keegan said. "You have work, Tom, that little Parisian on the way. Among other things, the captain has Annika Hansen. Captain Janeway wants to have children. At this time, the chances are unlikely that this will happen. Annika is the captain's surrogate child."
B'Elanna shook her head to clear it of that logic. "Even if that's true, why would you yell at the captain's daughter?"
He shrugged his hands. "Because I like her," he replied. "Don't look at me like that. Maybe I'm feeling my own parental needs. She has a lot of potential, but she suffers with her own lack of humanity daily. I see it, and I don't see anyone trying to help her."
"The captain—"
"Isn't doing enough. Annika should be out with people her own age. She shouldn't need a hologram to teach her what dating is. She should be having fun. And should deal with the Borg the way a human would. She needs to mourn the childhood they stole from her. She needs to cry, or...something."
"Cry?" B'Elanna let the word sit for a moment trying to picture that. "Even so, why can't you tell the captain?"
"The captain?" he said. "I can tell her something is wrong with the ship. I can tell her something is wrong with the Computer Core. I can tell her other crew members, even Annika, are acting unusual or inappropriate. But, how am I supposed to tell her she's a failure as a mother?"
"I see your point. I don't agree with it, but I understand it. I think you can talk to the captain about this, about anything if it affects the ship."
He shook his head. "It's not my place. Annika has chosen the captain as her surrogate mother. She has to tell the captain. I don't have the right."
"Do you want me to talk to her?"
"God, no. Either one. Tell the captain I'm sorry about the outburst. Beyond that, it's not my problem."
"Okay." She picked up her Danish and took a bite. "So, tell me, what's your take on the Unclaimed Thesis controversy?"
"Well," he said, looking at his PADD. "It's obvious Cochrane didn't write it."
"B'Elanna?" the captain said. "B'Elanna? Are you following?"
"I'm sorry, Captain." She looked around the Briefing Room. "I had a strange conversation with Phil this morning."
The captain sighed. She found she did that a lot where Lieutenant Keegan was concerned. "Let's put the lieutenant out of our minds for now. Can you set the torpedo load to safely dissipate the energy in the fault line?"
"I need to run a few more simulations."
"Will that take long?" Chakotay asked.
"No." B'Elanna tapped her fingers a few times. "Did Cochrane write his Unclaimed Thesis?"
Kathryn turned to her First Officer. She and Chakotay both recognized the expression on B'Elanna's face. She wanted to call it the Keegan Syndrome.
"Well," Kathryn said. "Most scientists from the Cochrane and Daystrom Institutes say yes. Most other scientists and historians say no. Is that what's bothering you?"
"Phil said you thought of yourself as Seven's surrogate mother. He made a very compelling argument."
Kathryn looked to Chakotay for support, but his eyes drifted away. "I don't think it's any of Mister Keegan's business."
"He said that too."
"Good."
"He also said you weren't a very good mother."
"What?"
"He told me I shouldn't mention that."
"He was right," the captain said. "Please tell Mister Keegan to keep his opinions to himself. Now, we have to help the Quagaar with their earthquakes. B'Elanna, I need you to get to work on that simulation as soon as possible. Mister Neelix, how much dilithium and supplies are the Quagaar offering us for this assistance?"
"Enough supplies for eight months, Captain."
Janeway smiled. "Excellent. If there are no further questions..."
"Captain?" Seven said.
"Yes, Seven."
"Why is Lieutenant Torres running the computer simulation?"
"Because, I'm the Chief Engineer," B'Elanna said.
"Yes, Lieutenant, but shouldn't the head of the Computer Core oversee any simulations?"
"You don't think I can handle it?"
Kathryn put her hand up. "I'm sure it's not that, B'Elanna. What Seven meant was—"
"I am not questioning your competence, Lieutenant," Seven replied. "I was wondering exactly what it was that Lieutenant Keegan did aboard this ship." Seven turned to the captain for her answer.
After some consideration, the captain said, "I don't know. B'Elanna, what does Lieutenant Keegan do, other than make rash accusations?"
B'Elanna said, "Phil created about a hundred and fifty templates that virtually every department uses, to some extent, for their simulations. He also designs the interface programs for any Delta Quadrant technology. And he maintains the Computer Core, both Primary and Auxiliary."
Seven said, "How would you evaluate his performance?"
B'Elanna shrugged. "When he worked in Engineering, he was one of my best technicians. I've never found problems with one of his templates. I can't imagine working without them."
"Is something wrong, Seven?" Chakotay asked.
"I am bothered by some of his comments."
"Is he getting to you?" Tom said. "Or are you feeling paranoid again?"
"I am in full control of my faculties, Mister Paris," Seven replied. "My recollection of him during that time, though, is one of extreme curiosity."
"As I recall, Seven," Chakotay said. "You were curious about everything then."
"What is your suggestion, Seven?" the captain asked, waving an open hand. "I'm open to anything that will help crew morale."
"I could ask Phil to run the simulation himself," B'Elanna said. "If you're trying to make him part of the team."
"He is a part of the team," Janeway said. "I want him to know that. Have him run the simulation. In fact, I want him to present an alternative of his own design to the Quagaar council tomorrow."
"An alternative?" Torres asked.
"Yes. If he reads Cochrane in his spare time, he can do this. I want to see what he's capable of."
"Yes, Captain," B'Elanna said. "Did you want anything else?"
"Did you find anything wrong with the Doctor?"
"No, he checked out perfectly."
"I see. If that's it?" She waited for a response. "Okay, everyone dismissed."