Silence

(Elnor & Seven)

"Was being a Borg Queen as terrible as it looked?" Elnor asked softly, following Seven of Nine through the forests of the unknown planet to which the Queen Cell's portal had led them.

The ex-Borg woman shot him a bleak glance, and he subsided. Only a day ago, he would have asked another question, but now he understood that some truths were too cruel to speak out loud. Sometimes the only answer that was both honest and compassionate was silence.

Eventually, however, she did speak.

"Yes," she said, leaf-shadows flickering across her face. "And no."

"How?"

"I never wanted it to end," she whispered. "That's why it was terrible."

Elnor could only imagine how she must have felt. Thousands of voices in harmony, all under her command, connected by those cables to her spine like infants to the umbilical cord … no doubt, no fear, no pain … only the glorious certainty of the Collective. Yes, he could imagine it.

"Then what made you stop?" he asked.

She blinked, shook her head, and seemed to gather her thoughts from what must have been light years away. She looked down at the leaf-littered forest floor, up at the sun shining through the trees, then again at Elnor, and this time, her blue eyes softened.

She looked like Zhani, he thought, when he had nightmares as a child. His foster-mother used to stroke his forehead until he fell asleep.

"You did," said Seven. "I'm glad you were there."

"I'm glad you were too," Elnor managed to say, before letting the merciful silence blanket them both once more.

/

Second Chance

(Agnes & Soji)

As Soji piloted the ship through the transwarp conduit, most of La Sirena's crew, having little or nothing to do, retired to their cabins. The only ones who stayed on the bridge with her were Rios, who still felt territorial about his ship, and Jurati, who was watching Soji's every movement like a freshman art student facing a Michelangelo sculpture.

It was starting to freak her out.

"Will you stop staring at me?"

"I'm sorry." Jurati hung her head, limp blond curls hiding her face. "I didn't mean to … it's just … I still can't believe you're actually here. You're everything that Br – that my colleagues and I dreamed about … I can't believe what Commodore Oh did to me, that I'd go against everything I believed in. It's like … I wasn't even me anymore."

Soji had turned back to her console and couldn't see Jurati's face, but the human girl's voice wobbled, and a sniff indicated that she was crying.

Soji wanted to ignore her. For God's sake, this woman had killed Bruce Maddox – Soji's creator, and one of the few people who would have had answers for her – but the sound of her crying was impossible to ignore.

Soji knew all too well what it felt like not to be yourself.

Besides, she was a therapist. She'd worked as one for three years aboard the Artifact. (That had to be real, didn't it? Even if nearly everything else about her was fake?)

"Hey, Jurati." She cleared her throat. "Agnes?"

"Um … yes?"

"You're not the only one, okay? You're not the only one who's been manipulated into doing things you regret. I sold out my homeworld to a Zhat Vash agent for a few kisses. If he gets there before we do … "

"It's not the same thing," said Agnes.

"You're right, it isn't," Soji retorted bluntly. "But my point is … you still are Dr. Agnes Jurati, the Federation's leading expert on synthetic life. You still are someone who believes that technology can improve people's lives. You have this … this self, this identity, you've been building your whole life – do you have any idea how valuable that is? Don't let Commodore Oh – or anyone – take it away again. Is that understood?"

From the corner of her vision, Soji could see that Agnes' eyes had gone round as saucers, and her hand was covering her mouth. Soji's voice had risen without her realizing it. Rios had his head buried in one of his paper books, discreetly pretending not to listen, although he'd doubtlessly heard every word.

Soji blushed. She'd just made the most basic mistake every therapist should avoid: she'd lost her detachment. Thinking of her Borg patients, and especially of herself, had made her so angry that she'd wanted to shake Agnes by the collar of her cardigan like a puppy. No, not angry; envious. She envied anyone who knew enough about their own nature to feel conscious of betraying it.

Against all odds, though, Soji's unprofessional outburst seemed to make Agnes feel better. Her whole body relaxed, she wiped her eyes with her sleeves the way you do when you're pretty sure no more tears are coming, and she even gave Soji a tiny smile.

"Understood."

"Captain?" Soji called to Rios, who stuck a finger between the pages of his book and looked up. "Would you mind taking the helm? I'm going to the mess hall."

"Aye, aye," he said sarcastically, rising from his chair.

"If there's anything in the readings you don't understand … "

"I'll comm you and let your superior positronic brain handle it," he retorted. "Gotcha."

Agnes hid a small giggle behind one hand as Soji walked past her.

"Are you coming?" Soji tilted her head toward the corridor. "I could use some help with an experiment."

"What kind of experiment?" Agnes jumped up from her seat.

"Finding out what my favorite food is. I'm not Jana, you know." She aimed that last sentence at Rios, who only grunted in reply as he inserted his hand into the controls. "And peppermint ice cream with French fries is disgusting."

Agnes beamed like a little girl (probably thrilled by the prospect of an android who could eat food, let alone have favorites) before visibly pulling herself together and giving Soji her best attempt at a casual nod.

"Okay," she said. "Fair warning, though – the red velvet cake should come with restrictions on it, like alcohol. No more than one slice per person."

"I'll keep that mind."