Seven of Nine - Christie Golden [33]
"Captain," said the Doctor in a voice she couldn't interpret, "I would like to introduce you to Annika Hansen."
JANWAY COULD ONLY STARE. SEVEN OF NINE LOOKED UP from the food she was eating with her fingers something brown; Janeway was willing to bet it was chocolate-and wiped sheepishly at the crumbs on her lips.
"Hi," she said shyly.
The words broke the captain's shocked paralysis and she tentatively stepped toward the diagnostic bed. "Sev-Annika? How are you feeling.?"
"I was kind of tired, but Neelix brought me some chocolate cake, and believe me I was going to sit up for that. I had some on my last birthday and it's delicious!" She turned the full radiant force of a genuine smile on the Talaxian and he blushed a little.
Good God, thought Janeway. She's beautiful!
There had never been any doubt in anyone's mind that Seven of Nine, late of the Borg, was an attractive woman. A strong, fit figure coupled with a beautiful face ensured that perception. But she had always been, to Janeway's mind, like Pygmalion's statue cold, without the spark of warmth to make her fully human, fully alive. Her beauty wasn't truly realized.
Seven of Nine was no Vulcan. She had emotions, but they tended toward the darker side of the spectrum. Janeway had seen her angry, hate-filled, and frightened. She'd never seen her smile like this, openly and honestly, a smile that crinkled her eyes and lit up her face.
Tears started in her eyes unexpectedly and the captain blinked them back. Here was the woman she had hoped to see blossom on Voyager, one who was truly human despite the alien implants that remained in her body. Seven of Nine's brain had still functioned like a Borg's. But now, it was almost like a miracle.
She had been reborn.
"Annika," Janeway breathed, reaching out a hand to stroke the soft flesh of Seven's cheek. "Annika Hansen. Welcome back."
At the senior staff meeting Janeway called immediately after meeting their newest crew member, the Doctor held everyone's attention. On the viewscreen was a diagram of Seven of Nine's brain, complete with implants, to which he gestured frequently.
"As the old clichd goes, hindsight is twenty-twenty.
When Seven of Nine-Annika-was suffering her hallucinations, I regret to admit that I had no idea what they were. I believe now, judging from subsequent events, that they were memories."
"Memories?" scoffed Paris. He was seated as far away from a clearly unhappy Torres as it was possible to be and yet still be present for the meeting. "To the best of my knowledge, Seven of Nine was never a kitten." He paused, thought about it, and opened his mouth as if to comment further. The Doctor quickly interrupted him.
"That is correct. She was also never violated by Kovan," he reminded them. He was alluding to a memory that had returned to Seven, or what had at least seemed a memory. She had been convinced that Kovan, an arms merchant with whom they had been negotiating, had attacked her and forcibly extracted dormant Borg nanoprobes. A subsequent investigation had proved the man innocent-the memory of a violation, while probably genuine at its origin, had been distorted-but not before Kovan had taken his own life.
"The incident with Kovan is a cautionary tale for me," the Doctor confessed. "Given Seven of Nine's extremely traumatic history, heaven knows what's stirring in that brain of hers. I was reluctant to jump to any sort of conclusion without solid proof."
"But... why does she remember being someone else?" asked Harry.
"As a Borg, Seven of Nine assimilated hundreds of races. The Graa, the felinoid race, was definitely among them. She told us as much. I'm willing to bet that the others were too. And when the Borg assimilate a race-" "They take the essence of who they are," finished Chakotay. "Everything they know, the Collective has access to."
"Precisely," approved the Doctor.