Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [24]
“My circumstances have changed since the last time we spoke,” Seven said evenly. “Initially, one of the most significant obstacles was the health of my aunt. She has since passed away.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Seven,” Eden said with genuine sympathy.
“Thank you, Captain,” Seven said. “In addition, it is my understanding that part of this fleet’s mission is to confirm that the Caeliar are gone. I believe my assistance in this respect would be valuable to the fleet.”
“You think they’re still out there, don’t you?” the admiral said, as if confirming a long-held suspicion.
“As I said when I was interviewed by Command, I am not certain what I believe,” Seven replied. “But I would like to investigate it further and a posting with this fleet is the only way to accomplish it.”
Batiste sat back in his seat, considering Seven with obvious skepticism.
Worried that he might actually kill her proposition without even uttering another word, Eden quickly said, “We would be delighted to have you aboard, Seven.”
“Before you agree, Captain, I must make you aware of certain matters relating to my personal health, and must advise you of the terms under which I am prepared to accept this assignment.”
Batiste had barely inhaled to retort that setting “terms” was not her place when Eden preempted him, saying, “By all means.”
Seven paused to collect herself, an odd sight to see as she was one of the most unflappable people Eden had ever encountered. Finally she said, “When the Caeliar transformed the Borg, I was briefly connected to the Caeliar gestalt. It was a unique experience and one that is difficult to describe. I was severed from that link but since that time I have continued to sense a presence in my mind. Please understand that I am in perfect physical health. However, over time, this sense of a lingering connection to the Caeliar has remained and actually grown stronger.”
“What is the nature of the connection?” Eden asked.
“I can only describe it as a voice,” Seven replied.
“What does it tell you?” Batiste asked warily, beating Eden to the punch.
“It says that ‘I am Annika Hansen,’ over and over again.”
“That is your human name,” Eden said.
Seven nodded. “It has been my preference since I separated from the Borg to designate myself as Seven of Nine. I do not understand why the insistence of this voice that I am Annika is so troubling, apart from the fact that Annika essentially ceased to exist at the age of eight. Obviously I am no longer Borg, but I have struggled over the years to establish an individual identity which encompasses the best of what is human and Borg within me. The voice seems to insist that I must disregard a vast part of my life. I have found that most troubling. If we can successfully locate the Caeliar, whom I believe might still be out there, they might be able to help me resolve this issue.”
Eden allowed herself to sit in silence as the implications of Seven’s words arranged themselves in her mind in a long series of bright red flags.
“So you aren’t so much offering your service to the fleet as requesting our assistance,” Batiste finally said.
Chakotay had sat in placid silence until now. His eyes flashed briefly as he said, “For many years now, Seven has responded time and again to any and all requests made of her by Starfleet. She has never accepted a commission. She has served diligently and loyally whenever and wherever she was asked, including at the Palais de la Concorde during the Borg Invasion. Never in all that time has she made a personal request of Starfleet. I think it’s the least Starfleet can do.”
“And what’s your interest in this, Chakotay?” Batiste asked with a healthy dollop of condescension. “Are you using your free time to transport wayward civilians around the quadrant?”
“I requested Chakotay’s presence,” Seven objected, “and the only thing I ask is that you allow him to remain onboard as my advisor.”
A veritable bouquet of new flags shot up in Eden’s head, but she held her peace. It was clear that Seven needed