Star Trek Voyager: The Gift

Star Trek Voyager: The Gift 4. Diminutives, Designations and New Fears

“Chakotay, will you go and get Seven of Nine for me? I need to have a talk with her.”

Chakotay glanced up from the PADD he was studying for a Biology project, feeling irritated. Why did his dad need a messenger all of a sudden? It wasn’t as if he was scared of her, in fact, in the week since they’d brought her back to the house, Kolopak had spent more time in the little spare room, where she’d shut herself up while Starfleet crawled eagerly over the wreckage of her Cube, than anyone else even taking her meals into her. “Why can’t you…” He began to ask him grumpily, but stopped when he saw that his father was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “What’s got you so happy?” he inquired, setting the PADD down for now.

“Starfleet are gone, they’ve taken the Cube and all the corpses. They’re like vultures, the area’s picked clean, it’s as if the ship was never there.” Contempt shadowed Kolopak’s voice.

“We’re hiding a pretty significant memento.” Chakotay reminded him, hoping he communicated his unease, and yes, fear, about the whole situation to his father but guilt quickly followed on its heels, it wasn’t that he wanted their Borg guest to go with them, no one deserved to be treated as an expendable piece of ammunition to be used against the Borg, but that knowledge didn’t make the situation any less complicated or frightening…

Kolopak’s smile became steadier, more reassuring, and for a moment Chakotay believed he’d read his mind, seen the turmoil within. “Just go and get her please son.” He reiterated.

Chakotay nodded reluctantly and headed deeper into the house, past Sekaya’s empty bedroom, she was spending the day at a friend’s house on the other side of the village, and his own before finally reaching the door of the Borg’s new lair. Automatically he lifted his fist to knock but then let it drop again, feeling stupid, and instead walked in unannounced. He was surprised to find it dark, the early afternoon light shut out almost entirely by shutters. A sick feeling rose in his gut as his eyes found the room’s only light source, a tall machine with a glowing green light on it, obviously Borg. The sight of it didn’t shake him as much as he thought it would, the disturbing thing was that Seven of Nine stood within it, still and unmoving. In that position, she reminded him of the Borg corpse that had greeted him as he entered the Cube, only held in place inside an identical machine by a few tangled wires and the effects of rigor mortis. As if she unconsciously sensed him staring at her, her eyes snapped open and scanned him up and down, “Chakotay.” She stated by way of greeting.

“My father wants to see you, Starfleet are gone.” If he’d expected relief on her face at that piece of news, he was disappointed; she only nodded stoically and stepped out of the machine in a single stride, but didn’t move towards the doorway. He found his eyebrows rising as he stared at the complex wiring around the odd machine, and just for something to break the silence said, “I guess it’s this thing that’s been sapping so much power, even our lights are unreliable.”

“The power supply to this building is woefully inefficient.” She agreed, “I will attempt to improve the current.” Without waiting for his permission she went to the small circuit panel in the wall and began to work, her fingers moving over it at lightening speed.

Chakotay watched her for a few minutes before losing interest, his gaze moving back to the machine. “What is that thing?”

“A Borg regeneration alcove.” She replied without turning around to face him.

“Ah…” Chakotay muttered, he’d heard of those, the analogy he’d heard Starfleet use was that they recharged a Borg drone like a battery, eliminating the need for sleep. Chovak had said she’d need to use it for the rest of her life if she wanted to stay healthy. He was just about to ask her if she dreamed or had nightmares when she was plugged into that thing when he heard a sharp intake of breath and saw that she’d turned back towards him, the palm of her human hand sliced open and bleeding. “Ouch! Are you okay? What did you do?” he asked anxiously as she stared blankly down at the wound in surprise, as if not quite believing it was there.