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By Root 652 0

the information I have just cited, but Lhiau did. He and the other Shepherds have spent eons manipulating dark matter, and they understand its nature very, very well. We know how the Shepherds' apparatus works. It gathers particles of dark matter directly to it, like a magnet attracts metal. We do not understand why the apparatus works, but our best minds are hard at work at deciphering this mystery. It is better to not be in debt to anyone. We Romulans know that."

I am a Romulan, he thought fiercely, and I will die like one if I must.

Harry Kim was absolutely beat. He'd worked well into the second shift, helping Seven up in Astrometrics to graph out all sectors in which the dark matter had been detected. It was a task that was not going to be accomplished in any short period of time. With every yellow spot that showed up on the screens, Kim's spirits dipped lower and lower. How were they expected to get it all? How could anyone, anything?

"You are in distress," Seven had observed crisply.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Look at that. There's no way we're going to be able to gather it all up. It just goes on forever."

"A typical emotional exaggeration. We know that the universes are finite. Therefore, anything in the universe is finite, including mutated dark matter. Although," she added, "I admit it is a daunting task." Her blue eyes flickered to his. "You are projecting your own emotions onto the task at hand."

"What do you mean?" he asked, then wished he hadn't.

"Your inability to consummate your relationship with Khala due to your cultural differences is distressing you. You view it as hopeless. Therefore, you see the task at hand as hopeless."

Harry felt his face grow hot. "Oh, great, so my failed romance is the talk of the ship."

"Of course not," Seven replied. "Just of Engineering."

"Oh, that's just-"

But Seven was smiling. "I am utilizing humor to defuse a tense situation."

He relaxed, just a little, but was still uncomfortably self-conscious. "Well, maybe you need to do a little more research to determine the topic you want to joke about. Some things aren't appropriate."

"But Mr. Paris used to call this-" She paused, searching for the word. "Kidding," she said finally.

That bothered him too. "I'm sure that wherever Tom is, he still does call it kidding," Harry said, a touch too harshly. "I'm not thinking clearly, Seven. I'm going to call it a night."

"Ensign Kim," said Seven as he turned to leave. "I had no desire to cause offense with my comments. You are not a topic of idle gossip. Your friends are concerned about you, that is all."

Harry managed a smile. "Thanks," he said, with genuine warmth. "That's nice to know."

He had just stepped into the turbolift when his combadge chirped. "Ensign Kim," came Neelix's voice. "Could you stop by the mess hall for a moment?"

Neelix's chipper, upbeat attitude was the last thing Kim wanted to encounter at this moment. He was hurt, tired, scared and just wanted to collapse into sleep. "Neelix, I know we've been bugging you about working on that coffee substitute, but I'm heading to bed. I don't need caffeine right now."

"Oh, it's not about that," said Neelix. "Please, just for a moment."

"All right," sighed Kim. To the turbolift he said, "Mess hall."

As the door hissed open, he said, "Okay, Neelix, this better be-"

There were no lights, save for a small candelabra on a single table. Music wafted through the air; a soft, soothing melody played on an ancient instrument called the harp. Something delicious was cooking.

"Neelix?" asked Kim, in a less demanding voice.

"Neelix went to his quarters after he finished helping me cook a late supper," came Khala's soft voice. Kim's heart sped up a little. She stepped forward, into the candlelight. As ever, Kim found her utterly gorgeous.

But he also knew when things had gone as far as they could. "Khala," he began, "I think the differences are just too great. I appreciate your-" He broke off. "Did you say 'cook'?"

She