Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [79]
After a short, silent pause, the admiral’s breath calmed. “I will note your objections in my logs,” he said evenly. “In the meantime, I expect you to carry out my orders. It’s your ship, but I’m the senior officer.”
“Of course, Admiral,” Eden managed with a deferential nod before he turned crisply and left the room.
The moment he was gone, she began to circle the large conference table.
What the hell just happened?
She and Batiste had had their fair share of differences throughout the years, and sometimes they devolved from professional to personal.
But this was different.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that he had launched his personal attack on her command choices to deflect her attention.
There was nothing to argue when it came to the Indign. Like it or not, the Prime Directive made this situation non-negotiable.
So why is he doing this?
Eden replayed the conversation in her head a few times before she realized that she was asking herself the wrong question, as was usually the case with any question that began with the word “why.” The right question stopped her in her tracks.
What the hell is he really up to?
Despite Chakotay’s suggestion, Seven decided that what she really needed was some rest. She was still uncomfortable sleeping, primarily because until a few months ago, she had never associated rest with anything other than standing upright in a Borg regeneration chamber.
The Doctor had suggested playing soft music in her quarters. He had even provided her with a few works that she found dull and uninspired, but that did have a soothing effect when she focused her attention on them.
She lay with the lights off, as a variety of stringed instruments did little to quiet her thoughts. As the violins whined, she found herself wondering how much practice would really do to help her begin to master her catoms—if in fact they were the true source of the voice in her mind.
Alone in the darkness Seven began to fear another potential cause. It was possible she was suffering from some sort of mental deterioration. She had witnessed years of her aunt’s illness, and though she knew that she did not have Irumodic syndrome, there were dozens of other neurological conditions which could produce her symptoms.
Once this thought took hold, she felt compelled to test it. Seven lifted herself on her elbows and swung her legs over the side of her bed. She took a few deep breaths, and did what she could to clear her mind.
Suddenly “Meegan’s” face as she described the respect the Indign felt for the Borg floated into her mind. She tried to release the anger that accompanied this image and found it replaced by the face of the young, half-Caeliar Annika Hansen she, Chakotay, and Icheb had confronted in her mental Erigol. Like “Meegan,” the face of Annika disturbed her deeply. A childish laugh echoed throughout the caverns of her mind, which tempted her to call for the computer to illuminate her cabin—a temptation she forced herself to conquer.
Searching for a more peaceful thought, she settled on her aunt Irene’s face, seated before her at her kitchen table, her chin resting in her hand and her eyes twinkling as she listened to Seven tell story after story about her friends and her students.
Though there was sadness to accompany this image, there was also something in it that both strengthened and calmed her. She allowed it to linger briefly, mentally watching it fade slowly into the distance until it was undistinguishable from a field of stars she imagined floating before her. Each star became an association with someone she knew cared for her: Kathryn, Chakotay, the Doctor, Icheb, Naomi, Neelix, and Tuvok. The list went on as Seven imagined herself bathed in the comfort and care of so many, near and far, who wished her peace.
Buoyed by a newfound sense of strength, Seven slowly raised her hand and shut off the neural inhibitor. The voice returned and as soon as she heard it, she tried to place it among the stars gleaming in her mind. Rather than fight it, she accepted that it was there and tried to imagine that it