From: "0007" Part Three A stabbing pain in the upper right arm was the first sensation Harry felt when he regained consciousness. Slowly he opened his eyes, blinking several times as something near him was giving off poignant smoke. Moving his head around tentatively, he found that he was still strapped into the copilot's seat, though dents were visible in the bulkhead in front of him, and the console below it looked burned -- the source of the smoke. He took a look at his arm, and saw a thin strip of metal sticking out from the skin, at the end of which a small rivulet of blood had been formed, slowly trickling upward. -Upward?- The realization came to him groggily that he was hanging upside down: the shuttle had taken a 180-degree, head over heels flip somewhere along the crash-landing. Tightening his teeth, Harry reached over with his left hand and gripped the metal strip, extracting it with a painful yank. Despite feeling a little stiff, he found that he could still move the injured arm, so with both hands he loosened the harness -- and promptly fell onto the ceiling of the shuttle, his upper back landing first in a relatively cushioned fashion. Groaning, he picked himself up and began to inspect the damage. What he saw -- under dim emergency lighting supplemented by shafts of natural light coming into the punctured hull -- didn't look good. Consoles on both sides of him looked seriously out of commission, if not downright ruined; broken off pieces of the secondary hull and unsecured equipment lay strewn everywhere. His heart sank still more when his gaze fell onto the fore-section: the front view port was partially cracked, allowing in-blown snow to accumulate in a shallow mound; what's worse, the pilot's chair, now suspended above him, was empty. -Seven!- Harry hurried forward, making his way past crumpled consoles and collapsed conduits. After a moment of frantic search, he spotted a strand of blonde hair peeking out from beneath a fallen section of deck plating. "Seven!" Harry called out, scrambling over to kneel at her side. The heavy metal plate covered most of Seven's body, exposing only her head and half of her right shoulder, as she lay there facing down and unmoving, eyes closed. Gently Harry felt alongside her slender neck with a fingertip, and was mercifully rewarded with shallow but steady pulses. However, the burned skin around the spidery implant near her earlobe worried him, as he had no way of knowing if her Borg systems had been adversely affected by the crash. That could wait after he had gotten the plate off of her, Harry decided, and quickly went to work. He dug in his heels and with both hands began to try to lift up the plate. Suddenly the shuttle shifted beneath him, making him lurch forward before regaining footing. Alarmed, Harry thought to take a look outside. A big chunk of the already cracked view port broke off at a kick of his foot, allowing him to climb out into the frozen landscape. Shielding his eyes from the bright white glare with the palm of his hand, Harry surveyed the snow-covered plain around him. Though the cold was bone chilling through the thin layer of his uniform, the blizzard had abated considerably for the present, allowing him to make out the icy cliffs that loomed in the distance. A black dot was barely visible at the base of the cliffs, possibly a cave of some sort. Harry started to walk to the other end of the shuttle, sinking almost to his knees in loose snow with each step. He only made it about halfway, before having to stop at the edge of a deep crevice. Carefully, he peered down into the abyss, but couldn't detect any visible bottom. Beside him, the entire aft-section of the shuttle hung over the edge in thin air. Silently Harry thanked god that he did not go back there and retrieve the survival gears first, because had he done so the added perturbation would surely have sent the entire teetering craft over the brink of oblivion. Though good fortune had already blessed them once by halting the shuttle before it went over the edge, the problem of freeing Seven remained. Packed snow on the edge of the crevice was loosening under the pressure of the hull, delaying but not preventing a final descent of no return. Realizing what little time there might be left, Harry hurried back into the shuttle. Moving more carefully, he tried to lift the plate once more, however to no avail. Glancing around for help, he managed to locate a length of coolant pipe. Using it as a lever, he was able to raise the plate, centimeter by centimeter, until there was enough space for Seven to crawl out -- that is, if she was conscious. Despite his pleas Seven remained unresponsive. Desperation was growing, compounded by the ominous grinding noise under the shuttle. Harry knew that he could not leave her, as much as his own life was at stake. In a way it was his life that lay trapped there, for he was sure, if only for the moment, that life would not be worth living without her. There was no other option: he would either get her out or die trying. Tempting fate defiantly, Harry decided to risk a gamble. With all his strength he pried the plate still higher, then jammed the pipe into place as temporary support. The rest of the weight he took upon his back, as he crouched down under the plate and took hold of Seven's limp arms. Centimeter by centimeter, he pushed, dragged, and rolled, until her body was in the clear, all the while ignoring the heavy burden that seemed to bend his spine. At last he scrambled out of the way on his knees and hands, before the pipe gave out and the whole plate came crashing down. The sudden movement did not go well in keeping the shuttle balanced, and soon Harry felt the fore-section lifting up slowly. Acting quickly, he grabbed Seven under her arms and dragged her out of the broken view port. On the way his foot kicked up the extra survival kit that he had brought onboard, so this too he tossed out of the shuttle. It became the only piece of equipment he could salvage, when the nose of the shuttle lifted to near vertical and slid off the edge of the crevice, barely allowing him to get away in time. The sound of impact at the bottom rose up only after a frighteningly long time. Out of immediate danger, Harry took a moment to catch his breath, sitting down cross-legged on the snow. He watched Seven, who lay flat next to him, with growing concern. Though her face remained inanimate as before, her chest rose and fell with reassuring regularity, accompanied by short but even breaths, audible in the eerie silence of their icy surroundings. Gently, Harry brushed back a golden lock from her forehead, his fingers trailing briefly along her chilled face. -She's just asleep,- he comforted himself with the thought. However, Harry soon realized that he couldn't just wait around for beauty's awakening from slumber -- the wind was picking up again, indicative of a coming snowstorm. Scanning the horizon, he managed to locate the black dot at the base of the cliffs again: what he hoped to be a cave and the only possible shelter within sight. With survival kit strapped around his waist and Seven draped onto his back, Harry set out, one laborious step at a time. The distance to the cave he had judged to be around one kilometer, not too unmanageable. Nevertheless, his limbs started to feel leaden after the first one hundred meters. To put his mind off the growing fatigue, Harry thought about how he always seemed to land in dire situations. The Harry five years ago probably could not have imagined going through even a fraction of what he and Voyager had survived. He was just a mint ensign back then, like the other thousands of his class, most of who more or less shared hopes of glory and high adventure. In comparison his own aims were modest: he did not start out with an eye on captaincy, nor had he anticipated any heroic exploits. To him, planet-bound life was just too complacent; the perspective of an infinitely bigger cosmos too easily lost. By signing up, he had only hoped to see more of the Galaxy, and perhaps, come of age in the process. -Would near-death experiences qualify for the latter?- Harry's musings turned a tad sour. -As for seeing the Galaxy, I'd rather have settled for neighborhood quadrants.- Shifting up Seven's body to better distribute the weight, he reminded himself that misfortune had not plagued him exclusively. He had seen sights no human eyes ever beheld, experienced wonders destined for few mortals -- yet dearer to his heart still, was having known Seven, whose wellbeing now hung paramount in his mind. Ever since the beginning he had been pulled to her magnetically, despite their vastly unlike backgrounds -- an understatement. No stranger to impulsive crushes, he was not too aggressive in pursuing a relationship after the initial compulsion, not to mention the anticipated lack of proper response. The more he tried to dampen his enthusiasm though, the stronger he found himself attracted to her, reasons being her beauty, intellect, peculiar wit, superiority yet vulnerability, or the indefinable force that draws one to another with the implacable power of destiny. From that point on he sought satisfaction in the precious partnership that had began to form between them, biding his time with nervous patience. He remembered vividly how only a day ago the wait had almost come to an end on the holodeck, how his body grew light as he was about to steal a kiss from her inviting lips. -Yet why does it seem all so long ago?- The ever-louder wails of the wind brought Harry back to the present. His strength was sapping, worsened by the growing numbness in his right arm. He forged on, having no choice. Soon the entrance to the cave was fully visible, appearing large enough to accommodate a dozen people. Each step he took in the last hundred meters got progressively harder, each overcame from being the last only by sheer willpower. He struggled on this way, baffled on all sides by sleet-carrying wind, until finally reaching shelter inside the cave. Feeling utterly worn out, Harry laid Seven down, then spread a thermal blanket over her, taken from the survival kit. Using a last bit of strength he covered himself with another piece of the insolating fabric and sat down against the wall of the cave. With drooping eyelids he watched the raging blizzard outside, trying to recall childhood memories of seeing snow for the first time as sleep overcame his exhausted body. * * * * * * "Status report!" Janeway demanded as soon as emergency lighting kicked in, bathing the bridge in a dim red glow. Around her, smoke rose from consoles and instrument banks, collecting in a thin mist just above the deck when mixed with fire retardant sprays. The injured, mostly bruises and light concussions suffered when Voyager was hit, were being helped into the turbolift. Sitting to her right, Chakotay relayed the damage reports as they poured in on his console. "We've lost all maneuverability...impulse and warp engines are both offline...twenty-five casualties reported on decks one, four, and eight, mostly light." "Shields and weapons?" Janeway wanted to know. "All shields are inactive, including the structural integrity field; weapons system is not receiving any power," Tuvok reported from his station. "Captain, it seems that the beam that hit us was able to almost completely drain our energy reserves, in addition to disrupting our main power supply. Our attacker, whoever it may be, obviously possesses highly advanced technology." "He's right," Chakotay confirmed. "We've enough reserve power left to run life support for about four hours, but that's about it." "Any word from Engineering?" Janeway asked hopefully. "Torres said that they can have main power back online in three to four hours. As for impulse and warp, she said not to hold our breath." "We won't have to if she can beat the clock," said Janeway. "I'm more concerned about the away team right now." "No word yet," Chakotay shook his head. "On the other hand the cube is unlikely to be a threat anymore; last sensor reading showed it to be falling into the atmosphere on a crash course." "Hmm, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'...I wonder if that'll hold true here," Janeway replied thoughtfully. "Hail the planet on all frequencies to make clear that we have no hostile intentions, as soon communication and defensive systems are restored -- another hit might do far more damage, especially without a sandbag for cover." "Right," confirmed Chakotay. "We'll also keep trying to reach the away team." Janeway nodded in agreement, then left her seat, stepping up to the forward consoles. "Mr. Paris, why don't you go help out at the sickbay," she said when she noticed Tom, still sitting in the pilot's chair. "We won't be going anywhere for a while." Tom turned around, revealing a bruised forehead. "Sure...I'll go," he replied distractedly, standing up. Seeing the worried look in his eyes, Janeway patted his shoulder as he walked past. "We'll get them back, whatever it takes," she said in consolation, though knowing full well herself that there was preciously little to be done for the moment. * * * * * * Seven blinked as she finally came to, looking up into an unfamiliar ceiling of what looked to be, mostly, snow. Puzzled, she sat up, aware of the thermal blanket that still covered the lower half of her body. She recalled trying to activate the retro rockets as the shuttle was about to hit ground, but a quick glance around her confirmed that she was obviously not in the shuttle anymore. Dim daylight pouring in from the arched entrance revealed a shallow cave of some sort, with walls and ground covered entirely by ice and snow, and icicles of various size hanging overhead. A quick internal check established that most of her implants suffered no ill effect from the crash, except for a signal receiver located near the lower right earlobe, which apparently caused the power surge that rendered her unconscious. Sensing the drop in temperature, some systems in fact had shunted waste heat into her bloodstream, keeping her body in reasonable comfort, helped also by the insolating suit she wore. Getting up on her feet, Seven inhaled the frigid air, then took a few tentative steps to get her bearing. Outside, a blizzard was raging at full force, reducing visibility to but a few meters -- whoever got her here must have had a difficult journey. -Ensign Kim!- she realized what was amiss. Scanning the area, she found a conspicuous mound of snow that had formed near the cave's entrance. A patch of dark hair was visible on its top. At once she hurried over and began to clear away the snow. In a moment, Harry's head and upper torso emerged, his frost-covered eyebrows and deathly white skin bringing a brief look of dismay to her face. Quickly she dragged the rest of his body out of the icy cocoon and deeper into the cave. Seven then ascertained that the Ensign was still alive, though his body temperature had dropped dangerously low. She wondered why he sat so close to the mouth of the cave as to be covered by in-blown snow when the blizzard picked up force; however, taking a look at where she had been laying, it dawned on her that he had used his own body to shield her. -After he rescued me from the shuttle and brought me here.- Seven did not know how she should feel in response, except that it was something far more than simple gratitude. Sorting out unsure feelings could wait though, as she must now find a way to raise the temperature of his body, before hypothermia caused irreparable damage. Emptying out the survival kit, she found only a first aid kit and two phasers, nothing of use at the moment. She then tried wrapping his body with a thermal blanket, but soon saw it as too slow to be effective. When she paused to warm her hands by rubbing them, a better option suddenly appeared. Without another thought, Seven reached behind herself, and with deft fingers, began to unfasten the hidden seam of her suit. * * * * * * Several kilometers beneath the cave where the stranded pair had taken shelter, the mysterious entities were observing the aftermath of their attack. -The disabled shuttle crash-landed, then fell into a crevice five-kilometer deep. Survival probability of its crew is under 0.01%,- monitoring components predicted impassively. -An acceptable outcome,- a thought approved. -What about the mother ship and the Borg vessel?- -A single disrupter-beam hit had punctured the hull of the Borg cube. It is now falling into the atmosphere. Projected disintegration in forty-five minutes, with no more than 5% of debris reaching the surface. The other ship has lost 99.95% of main power, though its hull and basic life support systems seem to be holding. Repairs are expected to be completed in five hours.- -Fire again and reduce them to subatomic particles!- another thought demanded bloodthirstily. -Unable to comply; momentum from the first impact pushed the ship out of main weapon's range.- -Further attacks are unnecessary, as we'll soon be ready to leave this system. No trace of us will remain,- others pointed out in moderation. -In retrospect, however, you/we may yet find our initial conclusion not fully accurate. Sensors indicated that the smaller ship had targeted the Borg cube just before our beam hit both. What if the beings onboard are enemies of the Borg?- -Implausible; how would the presence of a drone amidst them be explained?- The dispute was strong. -In three thousand years there has never been a case of reversion after being assimilated, or at least, a case where the subject survived.- -Perhaps our observation had been less than complete. The sources for new information are becoming limited, as we wallow self-contentedly in this safe heaven. What if...- -Attention,- the argument was cut short by the urgent call of components, warning of new development aboveground. -Anomalous pattern has been detected in the falling debris; active energy readings are present in numerous large pieces, some of which are on landing vectors.- -Another trick!- outraged thoughts cried out. -Intercept them!- -Attempting to do so; however, due to rapidly diminishing altitude at least one piece is expected to make landfall.- -Secure all surface access points; prepare to repel intruders,- others responded calmly. -It would not serve to underestimate the tactical prowess of the Collective again.- * * * * * * "Can you see it? Look at where my finger's pointing, straight up," said the Harry of five years ago, on a hilltop overlooking San Francisco Bay, as his real self lay dreaming in a cave on a frozen planet, countless light years -- and memories -- away. "I see it," the girl next to him replied, turning to regard him with bright eyes, clutching his hand in hers. It was Libby, the fiancée he left behind on Earth, together with the life he had. "It's so beautiful," she breathed. "That's where I'm going, right to the edge of the Gamma Quadrant," Harry said with pride and anticipation. "Imagine, all the stars, nebulas...the sights you can see there." Hearing his words Libby's gaze became downcast. "There's only one thing I care to see though." "Hmm?" Harry had been distracted by an imaginary journey across the sky, along the band of stars that were the Milky Way. "Oh, Libby...you know that it won't matter how far apart we are. I'll always love you." He caught on after a moment. "I love you too," she replied, now sniffling as tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes. "It's just that the thought...the thought of not being able to see you everyday..." "Libby..." Harry put an arm around her, pulling their bodies closer together. "I'll be back before you know it. It's just a peacekeeping tour," he reassured her, keeping to himself the reservations he felt about the Federation's policy against the Marquis. "And I'll be looking homeward everyday, just as you can see where I'm going. Let the stars be our messenger: when you see them blinking in the sky, you'll know that I'm thinking of you." "It's a promise? You'll think of me, all the time?" Libby asked softly, the fire of romance dancing in her eyes. "Always," said Harry, closing his eyes and leaning closer, expecting the hot touch of her lips. "So this is how you keep a promise," a different but familiar voice said suddenly. "Seven?" Harry opened his eyes, and sure enough, found the beautiful half-Borg next to him instead of Libby, a look of disapproval evident on her face. He drew back in amazement. "How..." "You cannot love me. I am Borg; no one can ever love the Borg." the Seven of his dream declared abruptly. "But I do!" Harry contended, despite his confused mind. "At least, I want to..." "You will fail," came the heartbreaking reply. "You'll never understand me; no human can." "Then help me to understand!" he cried out, finding the distance between them suddenly increasing. "Tell me what to do! Please! Anything!" he implored, with a despondency that surprised himself. "Resistance is futile." He heard the ominous machine-voice of the Collective, billions speaking as one. The peaceful hilltop around him morphed into the monstrous interior of a Borg cube, as the figure of Seven receded into its far side. He gave chase, only to find himself falling when the ground beneath his feet opened up without warning. Into the abyss he plunged, faster and faster, toward a point of blinding radiance. As the effulgence engulfed him, his body started to slow down, until he was floating in the warm light. A feeling of ease washed over him, erasing from his mind the disturbing imageries of moments ago. He felt like an unborn child, protected and nourished by the mother's womb, an all-encompassing universe onto itself. Slowly, a gratified smile spread over his face... "Ensign...Ensign Kim," someone was calling for him, close yet from afar. As Harry struggled to push back his weighty eyelids, a face came into focus, adorned by metallic implants and a crown of golden blonde hair. It was Seven again, this time only centimeters away, her breaths warm on his cheeks. Behind her he saw the rugged interior of the cave, and knew that it was not a dream anymore. "Seven..." Harry acknowledged her uncertainly, puzzled by their proximity. He tried to get up, but found himself pinned to the ground. He realized why in a moment: Seven was lying on top of him, hands on his arms, literally covering his body with hers. Even more shocking was the discovery that her shoulders were bare, as were his -- neither of them seemed to be wearing their full uniforms from the waist up. "I...umm...how...how long was I out?" Harry stammered out finally, after a few speechless seconds. "Two hours," Seven replied evenly, ignoring the flustered look on his face. "Boy, that long? I thought I took a nap at most," he murmured and glanced away from her briefly, increasingly aware of the warm softness pressing against his exposed chest. He didn't dare to look down. "Actually you were exhibiting early symptoms of hypothermia," she told him, "I saw direct heat transfer through epidermal layers as the most efficient method to bring up your body temperature." She shifted her weight slightly, sending tingles down the length of his body. "Well...I certainly can't imagine a more...comfortable, method," Harry managed with a sheepish grin, his abashment barely concealed. "I thought that you would approve," Seven responded, with a smile of her own. Harry's heart skipped a beat, but then he remembered something. "What about yourself? You were unconscious after the crash for quite a while. I was really worried." "My Borg systems are functional. A brief power surge caused the blackout, but I'm fine now." She paused, the look in her eyes softening with untold emotions. "Thank you for rescuing me; it must have been...difficult," she said with sincerity. "I'd say we are even -- you saved me from freezing to death, after all," Harry pointed out, sharing that same slow smile with Seven. In the brief, wordless moment that followed, as they lay there, as the rest of the world fell away, he savored the feeling of her, luxuriating in her scent, her warmth, and her closeness. It brought to mind headily fresh memories of that night they shared on the holodeck. He would have kissed her then, just as he had almost done before a rising Galaxy -- but something in him, something that he brought back from the dream, withheld his lips from seeking out their slightly parted counterparts. "I...I think I can get up now," he said instead, not trusting his self-control if they stayed that way much longer. Seven returned a silent nod, then drew her body away and stood up, too fast for him to detect the flash of disappointment in her eyes. Turning her back on him, she quickly closed up the upper half of her suit. Harry shivered as cold air blew onto his naked chest, now lacking the shield of warm flesh, as was the rest of his body, prompting wistful thoughts about the exquisite sensations of only moments ago. Sitting halfway up, he slipped on the sleeves of his uniform, noticing the newly regenerated skin over his wound. As he got dressed he tried to fill Seven in, "We crash-landed about one kilometer north of here, on the edge of a deep crevice. I got us out just before the shuttle fell into it. Unfortunately, as you can see, I couldn't salvage much else, besides one survival kit." "It'll have to do until we can find help; however, my attempts to raise Voyager with just the communicator have been unsuccessful." "Interference again? I'm beginning to suspect that it's artificial. Whoever sent that mysterious signal doesn't want anyone to peek down at the planet from orbit." "The same party may be responsible for downing our shuttle," Seven agreed. "We have to be diligent; other dangers may be lurking." She picked up one of the two phasers from the survival kit, checking it over. "Hmm...were we lured her on purpose then? Is this some kind of trap? If so, by whom?" Harry speculated quietly, leaning against the side of the cave, arms crossed. "I hope Voyager's okay..." Seven listened with her back to him as she checked the phaser. "Ensign," she interrupted after a moment, "While you were unconscious, you repeatedly said, 'I love you.' Were you under the psychological condition known as 'dreaming?'" Caught off guard by the abrupt question, Harry stared at her, eyes wide with surprise. "Umm...yeah...I guess I was," he nodded hesitantly. "Who were you addressing in the dream?" These were the words he feared. "I...I don't know. Actually I don't remember the dream all that well," Harry lied, not wanting to go into the details. "It was probably just my subconscious expressing itself, you know," he added with a nervous laugh. "I understand the ambiguity of the subliminal mind, though my experience with it has been limited." Seven shot him a quick, almost furtive, glance. "The Borg do not dream." Harry heard the sadness in her voice, and hated himself for what he said. He had to do something. "Look, Seven," he began as he slowly approached her. "I know that I haven't been perfectly clear with my feelings, even when we were on the holodeck, but sometimes I honestly think that I'm just as confused as you are." "'Confused,'" Seven repeated the word. "About what?" "About the way I...I feel toward you." "You are male. It's hardly unexpected that you are sexually attracted to me." "But that's not all I feel!" Harry raised his voice, knowing that Seven was just being blunt. "That's part of it though, I admit...no point in denying it." This he had always known, of course; still, it had taken a lot for him to say it in front of her. Intrigued by his response, Seven turned to face him, raising a brow. "What else do you feel?" "I...I like you, Seven," said Harry, taking a deep breath. "Not a day go by without me thinking how fortunate it is that we met. This'll sound crazy, but sometimes I even get the feeling that I've known you for a long time...maybe all my life." Seven was silent for a few seconds, considering his words. "I can see why you are...confused," she then said. "However, I have no such feelings to be confused about." "Perhaps not," Harry allowed. "But I know how hard it can be to deal with complex, even conflicting emotions. They've been giving me a hard time, and I'm just afraid that...that you may not be ready to respond to some of them," he finally got it out, though sounding every bit as if he didn't want to believe it himself. "You are right, they can be maddening." Her tone suddenly changed. "So I'll try to be direct. Remember once I asked you if you were in love with me? I may not have known what the question really meant back then, but I've learned much since, and now I want to ask you that same question again," she said to him firmly, eyes fixed onto his. Harry returned her gaze for as long as he dared, before averting his eyes, for he had no answer for her. "I'm sorry...I wish I could tell you, but I just don't know. I don't have an answer right now that...that can satisfy both of us." He shook his head, frustrated with himself. As much as he wanted to understand how she really felt about him, he was also afraid of the very answer he might find. "A simple 'no' would suffice," Seven said softly after a while. Turning away from Harry, she picked up the second phaser, ignoring the hurt look on his face. "We've spoken enough frivolous words, it's time we did something for our survival. I suggest we try to reach a higher elevation, and attempt to contact Voyager from there." Her voice was cool and distant, more so than he remembered. "Right," Harry could only agree, having no more to say. After placing the thermal blankets back into the survival kit, he walked up to the mouth of the cave and looked outside. The blizzard was again subsiding, though the sky was still a hazy gray. He stared into it for a while, trying in vain to find a sign of Voyager, or anything else that might occupy his mind, until a sudden flash of light caught his eye. Several more soon followed, as the rumbles of distant explosions resounded in the wind. "Seven!" he called out, but found her already standing by his side. "Something's falling into the atmosphere, perhaps trying to land," she concluded from the pattern of flashes, which were dropping progressively lower to the horizon. "And the planet's defensive mechanism's trying to prevent that." "The same defense that shot us down?" said Harry, his voice tense. "Possibly," Seven nodded. "If we can locate the firing position we may learn more about who's behind all this. But it's best that we alert the Captain of our finding first" "Who else could be trying to land though?" Harry questioned. "They could've sent another shuttle after us...and it's getting shot at." It was not a comforting thought, in light of how their own flight had fared. "It's not a shuttle," Seven declared suddenly. She was no longer looking up into the sky, but rather seemed to be focusing on something in her mind, eyes narrowed and one hand raised halfway to her temple. "They're not from Voyager...they are...Borg." "Seven!" Harry caught her in his arms as she was about to lose balance. "I can hear the voices...they're calling out to me...they know I'm here." Seven struggled with the words, her face contorting with pain. "Don't listen to them! Focus on my voice...listen to me!" Harry shouted, wishing that there was more he could do. To his relief she seemed to recover after the initial distress. Harry released his hold as her expression became more composed. She glanced at him, then looked up at the sky again, just in time to see a meteor-like streak falliwas eyond a snowy ridge, not far from where they stood. "They've landed; there're survivors," said Seven, concentrating. "I sense six functional drones." "Then we've got to get away from here!" "They'll find us, out in the open, just as I can detect their location. To stand a chance, we must prepare our defense right here." "With two hand phasers?" The situation looked grim to Harry. "Yes," Seven said firmly. She handed him one of the phasers. "We'll pick them off one at a time when they attempt to enter the cave." "Alright," Harry accepted. Having lived through plenty of fighting, it was easy to resign himself to the coming battle, but the thought that he would be able to do so little to protect her distressed him. "We have twenty-five minute before they'll arrive," Seven assessed. "Before then I require your assistance to reactivate my personal shielding." "Sure. What do I need to do?" Harry asked, as he followed her back into the cave. Seven kneeled down, reaching behind herself again to unfasten the snug-fitting suit. "In the lumbar region there is a sub-dermal, power transfer wire. I need you to pull it out and plug it into the shield generator's intake nodule three centimeters above it," she instructed him as the seam opened along her spine, separating the back of the suit into two halves and revealing a flawless expanse of skin. Harry got down onto one knee and searched for the wire, trying not to get distracted as his fingers glided over smooth feminine flesh. "Found it." He located the tiny looped end of the wire, pressed flat against the skin. "Pull it out." "I'm trying..." Harry gave it a light tug, but couldn't draw out the wire. Seven turned her head, looking over her shoulder. "Some force may be required. Don't be hesitant, I won't be damaged." "Ok...hang on." Harry hooked the loop of the wire over his right index finger, then, bracing his left palm against Seven's back, pulled with all the strength in his right arm. A short length of wire came out, followed by a small gasp from Seven. Immediately he stopped pulling. "Seven! Are you alright?" he asked, concerned. "It's unpleasant...but not unbearable," she assured him through gritted teeth. "Proceed." Knowing that having her shield active could very well mean victory or defeat in the impending confrontation, Harry tried his best to ignore how much pain he might be causing her, and pulled out more of the wire. He sensed Seven's body stiffen -- so that she wouldn't flinch. "There," he called out finally, having succeeded in inserting the end of the wire into the small gap of the nodule. Sharing a breath of relief, he helped Seven refasten the suit. She shot him an appreciative glance as they both stood up, then asked him to step away so that the shield could be tested. Harry watched with fascination as a green glow shimmered briefly over her body. "It is functional," Seven nodded with satisfaction. "Although I won't be able to maintain it constantly, due to the energy requirement, I should be able to activate the shield for brief instants in anticipation to attack." "What about our phasers? You said there're six drones, how many can we take down before they adapted?" Harry voiced his well-founded concern. "I've re-modulated the phasers which should take longer for them to adapt," replied Seven, fingers clasped around her weapon "Nevertheless, we must make every shot count. Try to aim for the optical assembly." "I see. We can also take up positions on both sides of the cave to set up a crossfire." "I advise against it. You lack cover in here, so you should stay behind me." Though he might be powerless to protect them from harm, Harry was not about to cower in the rear. "Seven, I may not have a shield, but I can take care of myself," he protested. She eyed him with something between exasperation and concern. "You are being illogical. Is self-esteem worth more than your life?" she said sternly, sounding perhaps harsher than she intended. From the look on his face, Harry did not take that comment so well. Trying to suppress a yearning frustration, he nonetheless blurted out, "I could care less about myself..." A bit startled upon hearing him, Seven sought out his gaze, but found Harry turning away. Despite what she told him, inside she was feeling more confused than ever. Vaguely she understood that there were deep feelings beneath some of the words he said, but she could not understand why he was having such a hard time being anything less than perfectly clear. It was better to say that she didn't understand herself either, perhaps, at the moment. Cold logic warned her of the potential dangers caused by emotional entanglements; on the other hand, she also knew them to be a source of strength as well as instability: a pillar amidst the loneliness of the soul; the light that could fill the void created when one mind was ripped apart from billions. Still, she did not know how to respond, nor could she afford the luxury to ponder these enigmatic notes. "The drones are closing in," she announced in alert. All the argument suddenly forgotten, they sought reassurance and encouragement in each other's eyes. Harry nodded resolutely, then took up position behind Seven and slightly to the side as they both kneeled down in defensive stance. Barring the ominous feeling in his heart, he only hoped that they would have the opportunity to talk again. Then the lumbering forms of the drones appeared, first as shadowy silhouettes amongst drifting snow flakes, gradually filling out into their grotesque embodiments of bristling cybertronics and ghastly deformed flesh, as they marched in unison towards the mouth of the cave, six as one. "You will be assimilated. Resistance is futile." To be continued... Rick Feng, copyright 1999.