Title     : ONE TOUCH TO RESET
Author    : Henry Lee
Contact   : lee@aries.phys.yorku.ca
Series    : VOY
Part      : NEW 1/1
Archive   : Seventh Heaven; others, please request permission. 
Rating    : [PG-13] - language and implied violent content
Codes     : K, 7, EMH, EMH/7 to start; K/7; also Marla Gilmore, 
	    Naomi Wildman, Noah Lessing; minor P, T, Tu, J, C, N.
Summary   : Seven's choice of suitors brings out the darker side of
	    Harry.  Upon shore leave to a friendly planet, Naomi
	    Wildman is kidnapped by an alien serial killer, and Seven
	    arranges to take her place.  Harry tries to rescue Seven,
	    but the subsequent resolution reopens old wounds for Harry
	    and proves deadly to one of the participants.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by Paramount et
            al.; so, I'm borrowing them for a little while.  The
	    creation of "BlackTOPS" was in no way influenced by "Star
	    Trek Voyager: Elite Force".  Any similarities are purely
	    coincidental; more words about this at the end.
Spoilers  : "The Disease", "Someone to Watch Over Me", "Warhead", 
	    "Equinox", up to and including Season 7's "Body and Soul" 
Thanks    : at the end of the story.

-------------------------
ONE TOUCH TO RESET
by Henry Lee
<lee@aries.phys.yorku.ca>
-------------------------

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Hoping is out of style; so, look happy - it's the end of the world."
							   -- M. Good

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Stardate 52784.6

I'm not going to get in the way, he thought.  I can't; I won't.

This would end here.

A more somber and sobering thought would have given way to even the
possibility that his world was about to come to an end.  That would
have been far too dramatic.  Instead, a rapid change in "alignment"
had occurred on a timescale that was particularly breathtaking.

A decision had been made; options regarded, probabilities calculated,
and eventualities pondered.   

The great lengths for consideration to which thought and emotion had
been expended were not wholly reserved to a former Borg drone
occupying Cargo Bay Two.   

No.  There was another of the Voyager crew, who had spent much time
thinking about where he had been and where he wanted to go.

Ensign Harry Kim sat alone in the Mess Hall, reflecting upon the 
events of the last couple of months.

In particular, he and Tom were in the lunch queue inside the Mess Hall
five days ago.  The memory had served him all too well. 

	"Harry, I had a bet with the Doc.  If the Doc could teach
	Seven well enough that she could get a date and keep the date 
	through the entire Kadi reception, I would pull double-shifts 
	with the Doc for a month.  If I had won, I would have been
	free from med-duty for a month.  Anyhow, turns out all of it
	backfired on the Doc, even though, technically, I won the
	bet."  

	"What do you mean, Tom?"

	"Well, I think that the Doc has got some pretty serious
	feelings for Seven.

	"What?  Really?"  

	"Yes.  You should have seen him, Harry, asking me in
	that `hypothetical' way just what he should do about it.  It
	seems that he was rather `intoxicated' with her as well."

	"Yeah, I ... I'm sure ... I know what that's like ..."

	"Harry.  I thought you were over her."

	"Of course ... of course, I am."

Harry had tried to play it cool.

Tom, however, was not easily fooled. 

Harry hadn't remembered listening to much of the ensuing conversation 
with Tom, though Harry did recall that B'Elanna had come into the
conversation shortly thereafter.  She had remained royally peeved for
having her relationship with Tom so closely "stalked" by Seven.

Two days later, he had gone to Astrometrics, requesting an update on
the power utilization curves from various long-range subsystems.
Small-talk had led him to asking how her date had gone with Chapman.
Additional words had led her to talking about her social lessons and
how she thought the Doctor's behavior had been rather odd.

	"I suspected, but I could not believe that the Doctor would
	have feelings of that nature for me."

	"Surely, you must have known, Seven.  It's been apparent that
	the Doctor has feelings for you, ever since he initiated your
	lessons on social interactions.  Even Tom told me about it ..."

	"I do not know how to proceed."

	"Well, how do you wish to proceed?  What do you want, Seven?"

	"I admit that I am intrigued.  We have much in common.
	Perhaps I would do well to consider him ..."

He should have been selfish. 

He should have kept the knowledge to himself. 

But, he couldn't do it.

Still, one fact did stare: it'd been his fault.  Inaction had led him
here to this point; he had depended upon faith and on time.  But
simply, he lost out on his opportunity with Seven to the Doctor.  In
fairness, he and the Doctor had gotten along quite well, even though
the Doc did manage to `misbehave' more than Harry was accustomed to
liking.   

Case in point: having the Doctor's program `installed' within Seven's
implants to protect him from being detected and deactivated by the
Lokirrim.  Harry still shuddered at how the Doctor had `used' her body
for his own gratification and overconsumption.  But, no permanent
damage had occurred and Seven hadn't been put off by the Doctor's
behavior. 

Perhaps, she really did have feelings for the Doctor after all.  She'd
been good at hiding a great deal and much of it from him.  Was she
that way with other people?  Or was she, Harry wondered, that way with
me?  

Lately, he saw a slip of a smile from her, here and there, but he had
no idea that she was becoming adept at parceling out those emotions
when it had been convenient.  Of course, that kind of manipulation was
a very human thing to do and it was something which he had likely
underestimated in her.  He wondered if she was really exploiting that
aspect for own benefit.
  
No, he didn't think that was it.  The real problem was that he had
*assumed* he had been the deliberate target of her little tests.  

There was one other thing, however.

Voyager was a very small ship.   Harry had forgotten about the fact
that it would be very difficult in the future to avoid the Doc and
Seven traipsing around as a couple. 

Well, that wasn't going to be a problem.  He would simply make himself
much more scarce in the future.  

My choice begins here, Harry thought.  I might as well start by 
paying the penalty.  

And Harry thought back to his visit with Seven earlier today ...

He walked into Cargo Bay Two earlier that afternoon where he found
Seven entering data into one of her consoles.  She raised her head to
see who had entered.  Just as she was about to greet Harry, he was
the first to speak. 

"I'm sorry, Seven."

God bless her sweet self, she looked puzzled.

"For what do you have to be sorry, Ensign Kim?"

Harry lowered his eyes, shaking his head.  "Doesn't matter, not any
more ..." 

For the first time since she'd come to know him, she heard a note of
despair from Harry Kim's mouth.

What could have caused this emotional damage, Seven thought.

For Harry, if there was ever a time to be spontaneous, now was the
time.  He looked intently at her.  "Seven?  Could you do me a
favor?"  

"What is it?"  She was interested in what he had to ask of her.  For
some unexplained reason, it was vitally important to hear just what 
he wanted.

He closed the distance between them and stood in front of her.
"Could you ... could you please let your hair down?"

Her head tilted back fractionally, her brows furrowing momentarily in 
confusion.  Seven was struck by his odd request.  Once, during a
social lesson with the Doctor, he had asked for the very same thing.
After a moment's hesitation, Seven reached back and pulled out the
pins holding her hair in place.  She shook her head a couple of times
to allow her hair to fall around her shoulders, just as she had done
for the Doctor.

Harry became awestruck at the sight before him.  She was magnificent
and absolutely radiant; he was having trouble collecting his next
breath.  But the bitterness of the moment surfaced once more and he
remembered why he was standing in front of this woman, even though 
his feelings were a mixture of the bittersweet. 

"Thank you, Seven.  Has anyone told you lately that you are a very
beautiful woman?" 

She usually considered appearance to be irrelevant.  Most of the
crew kept any conversation with Seven to a minimum, because she
noticed that they were exhibiting signs that they felt intimidated in
her presence.  So, it was not a frequent occurrence that someone
would compliment her on her appearance.

Seven observed the familiar dilation of the eyes and increased
palpitation emanating from Ensign Kim.  Still, she could not
comprehend why she sensed a kind of finality to the moment at hand. 

Normally, the distance Seven used to separate herself from people
could be indicated by where her hands were in relation to her body.
Usually, she stood upright with her hands held firmly behind her back.
Harry's admission had changed that and she no longer wished for the
separation between them.  She unclasped her hands and dropped them to
her sides.  She stepped closer to him, to a distance of one-half meter.

"I am?  I ... I never knew you felt that way about me."

Harry shrugged slightly. 

"It's the truth," he admitted.  "I was simply tired of keeping that
fact to myself."  

His time with Seven was always well spent.  Minute changes to her
face, her body, and her actions spoke volumes to the well-trained eye
of Ensign Kim.  Now, her eyes took on a deeper shade of crystalline
blue, her breathing rate increased, her lips pursed but slightly open.
She came up to him, just to the periphery of his personal space: not
too far, but not too close either.  She was just close enough that
made Harry feel very warm yet uncomfortable.

Was she testing him again, he thought.

"I ...," Harry was having problems getting the words out.  In his
quarters, he had practiced what he had wanted to say.  Now, all of it
went out the airlock; stringing together a couple of sentences now
would be rough.   

"I realized that my time with Derran Tal wasn't exactly a bright spot
on my resume.  But, I never knew what the cost of that would be."
He quickly closed the distance between them and placed his hands on
her shoulders for emphasis.  "I wanted to be your candidate."

A small gasp escaped her lips.  He knew, Seven thought with alarm.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath.  

Just hold on a little longer, he told himself.  Say what you need
to say and make the hasty retreat.  

"You didn't think I knew, did you?"

"No."

"Seven, when I started working with you, I knew that you thought I was
being inefficient when I tried to engage you in conversation.  You may
have thought it was irrelevant, but I wanted to know you as a person,
and you were just beginning to understand aspects of your
individuality.  I didn't want to take advantage of that.  But,
moreover, I wanted to learn about your past, even if you might have
thought it was unpleasant.  I needed to know the person you had become
and the person who you wanted to be.  You weren't very forthcoming,
but I didn't give up.  I wanted to connect with you, first as
colleagues, and then, hopefully as friends.   That's why I said no to
you when you asked to copulate with me."

A rush of warmth spread through her - he considered her to be relevant
to his existence.  But she was bewildered and there was no other way
to express her disquieted state.  "I do not understand why you are
telling me this." 

Ignoring her confusion, Harry plowed forward.  "I just wanted to say
that you are a very special person.  Despite what others say about
you, I know that deep inside is a woman, full of spirit and
compassion, who has much to offer to a very fortunate man." 

He waited a beat before he willed himself to speak the next few words.  

"I am sure you and the Doctor will be very happy." 

A flash of understanding about his wish passed between their eyes.  
Seven could make the logical leap that Harry was bidding a "farewell"
of a kind.  Something was wrong, but she had no idea what or whom he
was leaving behind ...

Was he saying "goodbye" to her, she thought in alarm.

Harry knew it wasn't right to do it, but he could not resist.  He
stepped inside her personal space and leaned forward into her,
brushing his cheek against hers.  He brought his hands up from her
shoulders, caressing her neck. 

Inching upwards, his hands moved up to cradle her face, his thumbs
lightly touching her cheeks.  Bending his head forward, he kissed her
gently and firmly on the lips.  The kiss lasted a few more seconds, as
he surrendered to the supple feel of her lips.

Just as quickly, he ended the kiss. 

She was amazed by the feel of his lips, though confused by the choice
of his actions. 

He looked at her sadly, running his thumb over her lips.

With that, he left Cargo Bay Two with much for Seven to consider.
When the doors closed, Harry remained outside and stood still.  He
closed his eyes, burning the feel of their kiss into memory.  He
turned his head back and looked at the Cargo Bay doors.  For a 
desperate moment, he wanted nothing more than to go back inside and
continue where he left off.

No, Harry thought finally.  She's decided to be with the Doctor. 
I'm not going to get in their way.  I can't.  I won't.

Despite the heavy feelings which seemed to weigh him down to the spot,
Harry turned and walked down the corridor to the turbolift.

The dinner rush had long passed as he stepped into the Mess Hall.  He
took a table at the farthest corner, away from the people who remained
and were finishing the last of their meal.

This is where he had been for the last hour.  He sat by the view port,
comforted by what he saw in the emptiness of space.   

It's so beautiful, he contemplated. 

The view of an endless field of stars reminded him of his childhood: 
him lying in an open grassy meadow and looking up into the night sky,
thinking and launching himself into the travels of deep space,
wondering what adventures he would eventually experience. 

Whatever happened to that impressionable boy, he thought.  He grew up
to become a responsible man, who was a part of the senior bridge staff
of a Federation Intrepid-class ship, with the responsibilities and
obligations of his rank and station.  

He had once harbored many thoughts of the possibility of a lifetime
shared with Libby.  He had also begun to entertain similar thoughts
about Derran Tal.  But, of course, it had not come to pass and it
simply could not - the old saying about "two ships passing in the
night" applied so literally to them.  Janeway had read him the riot act
in the wake of his relationship with Tal, even though their subsequent
"mother-son" conversation had smoothed things over.

A lifetime had seem to pass since he'd been assigned to Voyager and
their fateful encounter with the Caretaker Array.  Up until that
moment, everything had seemed entirely possible and within easy reach.

Now, sitting alone on a ship stranded so far from home, he would have
given absolutely everything just to be with Seven of Nine.  That was
the basic truth.

He got up and left the Mess Hall to return to his quarters.  Events of 
the last twelve hours had left him exhausted.  Along the way, he had
deliberations for the makings of a personal pact.

He entered his quarters.  Choosing to maintain the darkness, he made
his way into his bedroom and laid down onto his bed.

He'd been a fool ... there would be no more setbacks.  No more
unattainable women, he concluded.  No more innocence, lies, or
self-deception.  He had gotten over the chemical dependency caused 
from having been intimate with Derran Tal.  It had taken three long
weeks, but his condition had eventually improved and the longing had 
dissipated.  

He thought that he would need some amount of time to "get over Seven"
too, similar to the post-encounter period with Derran Tal.  The
singular problem was that he didn't know if he would get over the loss 
of not being with Seven. 

He chuckled to himself, a hollow laugh to the absolute ridiculousness
of this situation ...   

I really have it bad for her, he thought.

On this first night of decisions, he felt the pain beginning to
emerge.  He had felt the storm tide rising from within; the trick
would always be to avoid drowning in its wake.  The years of practice
to driving on empty nacelles had already begun.  

To the outside, he would be ready and he would adapt - he'd be knocked
down, but he'd always land on his feet.  No one would be the wiser. 
In the silence and privacy of his quarters, Harry wept for the loss 
and regret.  

He suspected that this would take much longer than a couple of weeks.
No, it just might take the rest of his life ... but still, if it was
all the same, he hoped the immediate heartbreak would pass quickly
with time.  He could live with the dull edge of self-reproach.

But, he was wrong about the apparent passage of time.  The chronometer 
kept ticking at its eternal pace, an individual second at a time.   

One second after another.  

And another ... 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"I don't question our existence; I just question our modern needs ..."
  				              -- S. Gossard & J. Ament

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Doc, are we done yet?" Harry asked in irritation.  Harry was in
Sickbay for his bi-weekly medical checkup.

"Mr. Kim, a careful checkup requires patience."  The EMH lifted a
hypospray and pressed it against his neck.  "An injection a day keeps
the doctor away."

Harry glanced coolly at the Doctor.  Feeling mollified, the Doctor
asked Harry a question.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Kim?"

Here's where it gets tricky, Harry thought.  Ever since their
experience with the sentient warhead, Harry admitted that he really
liked working with the Doctor.  Although it had been difficult since
the Doc and Seven had begun their relationship, Harry had continued to
aid the Doctor; it had been natural to continue pushing the very
limits of the Doctor's original programming.  In fact, Harry and
B'Elanna had recently come up with supplementary programming to the
EMH's existing routines that augmented his growing list of command
functions in his role as the ECH.

So long as the Doc's relationship with Seven didn't come up in
conversation, Harry would be perfectly fine.

From what Harry could tell, when he had seen the two in social
gatherings, and what he had learned from brief conversations with other
members of the crew (which meant gossip), the Doctor had essentially
taken charge of every aspect of their relationship.  For the time
being, Seven had been content to let the Doctor proceed as he had. 

"You might want to give Seven a little room."

"Excuse me?" the EMH asked, momentarily confused.

"I mean, that you should let her have some input."

"Mr. Kim, to what precisely are you referring?"

"I mean, Doc, that you should give Seven some freedom in choosing what
she wants to do when you two are socializing.

"Excuse me, Mr. Kim, but I believe that is a matter for the two of 
us to decide."

"Of course, Doctor.  It's just that ... uhm ..."

"What is it?  I don't have all day, you know."

Harry gathered his thoughts and started again.  "You're both
relatively new to this relationship.  I know you've had your share
of relationships, but your relationship now is with Seven of Nine,
who's a little gunshy.  You know full well that your lessons on dating
at the outset weren't exactly a success." 

At the Doctor's surprised look, Harry added.  "Yes, it's fairly well
known, especially when Tom told me what happened to Chapman."

The EMH looked particularly glum.  

What goes around comes around, too, Doctor, Harry thought.

Harry continued. "However, it was completely obvious that you had
feelings for her.  It's good that you've gone on to the next stage.
All I'm saying is that you should be careful with her."

"Not that it's any of your business, but I assure you that I have
every intention of taking her feelings into consideration."
The Doctor was not liking where this conversation had been going.
In fact, he was beginning to believe Kim was poking his nose into
business that wasn't his concern, and that Kim had ulterior motives
for Seven, if past shipwide gossip were to be believed.

"You still have feelings for her," the EMH stated as if it were fact.

"Once, Doc ... I had feelings ... a long time ago.  I don't have them
any more." 

"I don't believe you!"

"What's not to believe, Doctor; it's the truth."

Suddenly insecure, the EMH turned and walked away from Harry.  
"It can't be true," the Doctor blurted out.  "Sometimes, she speaks of
you.  You must be influencing her somehow." 

The Doctor's admission momentarily stunned Harry: Seven spoke of him?

"I'm not influencing her." Harry soothed.  "In fact, I've been trying
deliberately to stay out of her ... out of your way."

The EMH whipped around to face Harry.  "Aha!  You've got something to
hide - I knew it!" 

"Look, Doc, please be reasonable.  I'm happy for the both of you."

"Seven and I are together now and you can't stand it!  And there's
nothing you can do about it!"

"I'm a friend to both you *and* Seven.  But in the end, I don't want
to see you use her like the time we hid you in her body to keep you
from being discovered by the Lokirrim." 

The EMH's gaze was distinctly cold.  "What's the matter, Mr. Kim -
jealous?  Besides, she hadn't complained.  I thought she quite liked
it." 

"What are you talking about?  You made her very uncomfortable!
Guzzling food and liquor in excess on your part was not part of the
deal." 

"She was not harmed ..."

"You subjugated her personality and you were in complete control of
her body.  Did you ask her for permission to eat and drink to the
extent that you had gone?  She got very sick because of you!"  Harry
was becoming increasingly agitated and his voice rose in volume.

"What I did saved us all!"

That familiar smugness was infuriating.  "You're not going to use
her!" Harry shot angrily. 

"What are you going to do?  She's with me now."

"Watch me," Harry dared, crossing the line.

"Over my dead hologram ..."

"*That* can be arranged!"  Quick in his retort, Harry felt the rush
of hot fury. 

Stunned momentarily by the outburst from the once calm-mannered
Ensign, the Doctor replied coldly.  "Yes, I'm sure.  "The man who
mentions his one and only pathetic skill with the clarinet before
Seven summarily dismisses him as a potential candidate, like
discarding waste out of an airlock."

Seeing Harry's sudden discomfort, the EMH persisted.

"So tell me, Mr. Kim, you know full well that I am a technological
being and therefore superior to you in every way.  How do you think
you will be able to outperform me?"  

Seething and barely in control, Harry stepped within contact of
the electromagnetic fields holding the EMH in place.  Namely, Harry
stood nose-to-nose with the Doc and spoke, low and dangerous.

"All it takes is three words, Doctor: `Computer, delete hologram.'"

With that, Harry stormed out of Sickbay.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Although Seven had been surprised and then disappointed at discovering
that harsh words were exchanged, cooler heads had eventually prevailed.

A couple of days later, the anger had faded into remorse.

After Alpha shift, Harry walked into Sickbay, only to find it
unoccupied. 

"Computer, activate the Emergency Medical Hologram."

"Please state the na ... oh.  It's you."  The EMH composed himself and
proceeded to do his job.  "Is there something I can do for you,
Mr. Kim?" 

"No, Doc.  I wanted to come by and apologize."

"Apologize?"  The EMH hadn't expected this.

"Yeah, I wanted to say that I'm sorry for nosing in on something
which wasn't my business.  I also wanted to tell you that I really am
happy for you both and that you two will be good for each other."

It was a rare occasion that the EMH was stunned speechless.

"Doc?  Are you all right?"

"Yes ... yes! I'm quite all right; thank you, Mr. Kim.  Those were
very kind words, but I think you may have overestimated me."

"How's that?"

"You were right - I admit that while my program remained hidden within
Seven's circuitry, I enjoyed those sensations to which you have become
accustomed from birth.  They felt marvelous, but I had difficulty
controlling them.  Eating, breathing, drinking - all of the sensations
that I've dreamed of having became an addiction and I didn't want to
stop." 

"Why didn't you say something?"

"What was I supposed to say?  I was in danger and we didn't have many
alternatives, did we?"

Glumly, Harry nodded.

The Doctor's tone softened.  "Mr. Kim, I'm sorry for the harsh things
I said to you two days ago.  I realize that I'd simply been using
Seven for my own ends."

"Apology accepted, Doctor."

"I should tell you that I've also apologized to her." 

"What did she have to say ... I mean ... if you ... want to tell me
..." 

"That's quite all right.  She admitted that my behavior was most
uncomplimentary and unsettling, but she readily accepted my apology.
Frankly, Mr. Kim, I'm surprised neither you, Lieutenants Torres, or
Paris haven't already shut me down or wiped my algorithms clean for
good by now." 

"Doc ... I ... you know, you might get on our nerves, but believe me,
we wouldn't really go through it.  We'd have to train your program
from the very beginning again; all of our hard work would have gone
out the airlock.  Your own independent work would have been destroyed,
too.  Besides, we understand what your development means to you. 
It's why we want you ship-shape by the time we get back to the Alpha
Quadrant.  You know that B'Elanna and I are always trying to work
something out.  Look, I'll certainly support you without hesitation if 
anyone asks about whether or not you should be considered a true
citizen of the Federation.  You've done more than your share for the
Voyager crew; it's time the rest of the Federation knew about it.
As far as I'm concerned, you stopped just being a hologram a long time
ago."

The EMH was humbled by Harry's admission.  "Mr. Kim, I didn't expect
this.  Thank you for your support.  I promise you that I will treat
Seven in the best way possible." 

Harry gave the EMH a friendly pat on the shoulder.  "I know you will."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry had worked to reestablish an amicable and professional
relationship with the Doctor for two reasons.  First, Harry liked a
lot more about the EMH than he disliked, even if there were occasional
times that the EMH's behavior subroutines could use a little (okay,
major) tweaking.  Secondly, Seven and the Doc were his friends.  Harry
had to respect their relationship and, because he liked Seven, Harry
didn't want anything to come in the way of being their friends.

The Doc and Seven were embarking on their own journey.  Harry
had to simply accept that and move on.  Still, the honesty of the
admission didn't make it easier.  

Harry did well to separate the private admission from public display. 
Maintaining the pleasant exterior would be relatively easy.  What no
one would see was how every time he looked at Seven and the Doc
together, it would be an emotional blow, as effective as if someone
had punched him in the abdomen.  Without failure, he would be unable
to merely will the ache away in quick fashion.

There was nothing left to do.  In the darkest corners of his mind, he 
had thought of delicious and pernicious ways to force the two of them
apart.  He could so easily walk down the path of deviousness, malice,
and deception. 

But, he would not.  He still believed in dignity, decency, and that
everyone had the right to choose to live their lives in a manner they
thought best.  Harry forced himself to struggle with the rigors of
everyday life and eventually settled down, internalizing much more,
within and without. 

Outwardly, he was less focused on finding a suitable woman and focused
more on work.  Despite the lack of promotion, he threw himself into
his duties: doing whatever was necessary with Astrometrics (and
spending a minimum amount of time with Seven), developing increased
synergy of practice between Operations and Tactical, taking on an
increasing number of Gamma shifts on the Bridge, and collaborating on
new projects with the crew in Engineering.  He requested assignments
on every possible "away" mission for which he was eligible.
Sacrificing most of his sleep periods, Harry devoted his spare time to
any kind of technical or procedural upgrade, which would improve the
day-to-day operations of all the crew on board. 

In effect, he tried to become as efficient as possible.

Besides, sleep held lock and key to the domain of his dreams.  He was
afraid of seeing her there, of seeing the promise and joy tease him
without mercy.  He would awake, screaming her name, clutching his
sheets in the darkness, always discovering in great detriment he was
alone.  Most mornings involved the same ritual at the mirror: he
swallowed the lump in his throat and all outward evidence of
self-hate.  With great effort, he shoved his need and desire down; he
made sure all of it was well buried before he left his quarters to
meet the day.

And so, inwardly, he cloaked himself behind an ever higher iron wall.
He promised himself that nothing could ever touch him.  Janeway could
have her damn `community' and he would go about being as agreeable as
an upstanding Starfleet Ensign could be.  The only matter of supreme
importance was the goal of getting home.  Even though he could not
separate himself or remove the emptiness, it had all chalked up to
tough luck - it was just too damn bad.

Months had passed before the implications of his actions became
clear.  Harry was less outgoing and more introspective with a shaded,
wary look about his eyes.  He unconsciously began to adopt a
protective shield at all times.  

Couples had begun to pair off like the Delta Quadrant's version of
Noah's Ark.  Of special note were his friends, Tom and B'Elanna, who by
now had two children: a girl and a boy.  Even Janeway herself had come
to her senses, stopped denying herself, and shunted aside her absolute
sense of duty.  She had finally gotten together with her X.O.
Chakotay had every reason to be very happy as they had vaulted into
each other's arms with relish and passion.

And there was the Doc and Seven.   The thought still had the power to
hurt, but time had in fact eventually lessened its effects.  Now, the
pain had ebbed quietly to a dull pang, but it was always ready to be
called upon at a moment's notice.  

Naturally, Tom and B'Elanna had openly worried about Harry.  Over
time, just as Harry knew would happen, Tom and B'Elanna had to deal
with problems of their own, what with raising their children and all,
and they simply not expend a great deal of energy to their friend.
Finally, they simply had begun to let Harry have his own space, which
had been perfectly fine with him.  Harry was no longer interested in
maintaining the status of `third wheel' to Tom and B'Elanna or as an
`arbiter' to their more heated disagreements. 

Harry Kim walked around the ship with the air of someone who just
wanted to be left alone.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"The darkness of space has an overwhelming ability to reflect inner
turmoil, not unlike what a rainy day might do to a mood back on 
Earth.   The downside is that space is much less forgiving."

		      -- Rear Admiral Elisabeth Hayes-Hunter [ret.],
			 "The Price of Interstellar Travel", 2375

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Stardate 54260.1

One and a half years had passed.

The romantic relationship between the Doc and Seven had cooled, once
Seven had begun to surpass the limitations that holomatrix programming
could offer.  The Doctor had offered to supplement the programming
with additional subroutines of his own making, but Seven's own growth
and advancements into "humanity" had eventually transcended such
requirements.  That is, her reemergent humanity required real human
contact, much to the Doctor's disappointment.

Still, the Doctor and Seven had separated amicably and had remained
friends.  She had begun to date other crew members, but her dating had
become rather infrequent of late.  Harry had heard similar rumors to
that effect, of course, but he didn't dwell on them too long.  Seven
had started becoming more comfortable with the knowledge that she was
slowly settling into her humanity with each passing day.  She wasn't
exactly "whooping it up with joy," but people who worked with her
noticed her smile much more and her very wry sense of humor.  

Unfortunately, Harry hadn't been so lucky.  Harry had remained cordial
with Seven, of course, but it was apparent and dubiously ironic that
Seven was in a way now more "human" than ever in her evolution than
Harry was in his present condition.  Harry Kim was a ghost of his
former self, but he could not have cared.  His retreat was now fully
complete and, in doing so, he had grown distant and apart from the
people he once cared.  Just about everyone kept a safe distance from
the Ensign.  Where once B'Elanna had kidded about him being an `open
book;' now, he was closed, "off limits," and completely unreadable.  
The dull ache had hardened him and molded him into a cold, black
luster. 

Perhaps it was the fact that he seemed to have a kind of permanent
stubble or shadow on his face, plus the fact that he had grown his
hair out longer: shorter on top, but longer to the sides just below
the ears, as some of his black locks bunched up and crowded around his
lower neck.  Janeway and Tuvok had passed along gentle reminders for
the need of discipline and proper appearance, all of which Harry had
simply ignored and dismissed.  Both Janeway and Tuvok weren't pleased
by his inattention to the proper appearance for a member of the senior
staff.  But they were very far from home and Harry had become
indispensable, at Ops, Astrometrics, and Engineering.  

Eventually, they left him alone. 

A few of those "risky" away missions for Harry had also added an
additional scar or two.  One particularly ugly scar had bulged across
his right cheek.  The Doc had offered to heal the scar, which would
leave no mark, but Harry would hear nothing of it.  He had wanted the
scar to remain ... 

But it had been Tuvok who pointed out that this "reminder" was
unappealing and most illogical.  While Tuvok might tolerate the length 
of hair, the Tactical Officer would not allow a "pirate" to serve on
the Bridge.  Soon after, Harry had entered Sickbay and requested from
the Doctor that the scar be removed.

On the upside, Harry had finally received his promotion to Lieutenant.
It'd been a long time in coming.  At his request, the "ceremony" was
held in the Captain's Ready Room - the only other person present
was Captain Janeway.  Although he appreciated the rise in rank, he
didn't want to make a big deal out of it, despite very vocal
objections from Tom and B'Elanna that there should've been at least a
celebratory party.  Harry would not hear of it, nor would he be a
party to a ... "celebration."

He would learn years later that Seven herself had inquired with Tom
and B'Elanna why was it that none of the bridge crew, Neelix, the
Doctor, or she had been included in the promotion ceremony.  Tom would
relate to Harry that she had looked distressed and troubled at having
been left out.  He had been surprised by Tom's description of her
condition.   But because of their long working relationship, Harry had
learned how to read Seven and gained insight about her.  The rest of
the crew, save for perhaps the Captain and the Doctor, continued to
have great difficulty with reading Seven's body language.  Most could
not readily distinguish her words from her stiff posture or cold
monotone.  It was all the same to the crew.  But Harry had guessed
correctly that things were in fact changing with Seven.

The improved synergy between Operations and Tactical had begun to bear
fruit.  Tuvok and Harry had developed a very small select unit which
was designated `BlackTOPS,' designed for `special' security
operations, combining elements of high-level techniques and methods,
with resources from the respective divisions of Tactical, OPerations,
and Security.  The mandate would, by necessity, be limited and held in
check by restrictions laid out within Federation regulations.

However, if an away session ever crossed a threshold into a "critical
setting," key members of BlackTOPS would be called upon to assess the
situation, render whatever assistance was required, or be asked to
take over.  Tuvok served as Group Leader and managed all macroscopic
details including the construction of complex tac-sims or tactical 
simulations, while Harry had taken up micromanagement with Logistics
and Planning.  Both Janeway and Chakotay gave their blessings. 
The lead- and co-executive for BlackTOPS set out to create a list of
candidates whom they could recruit. 

Eventually, they had decided that the most qualified candidates for
the next two members of BlackTOPS had formerly served on the
"Equinox."  The "Equinox Five" were still considered "persona non
grata" by some aboard Voyager.  But, Crewmen Marla Gilmore and Noah
Lessing had been grateful for the invitation to join BlackTOPS.  Harry
recognized full well what it was to be on the outside.  It had taken
some time for him to accept, understand, and forgive the actions
Gilmore and Lessing had undertaken to survive their ordeal.  But, they
all had a long journey remaining and Harry recognized that the
"Equinox Five" had to be integrated somehow with the crew at large.   

In the end, Harry had been far more forgiving than Captain Janeway.
Harry's request to Janeway for adding Gilmore and Lessing to the unit
had been most passionate, despite her initial objections.  Janeway's
primary condition was that Harry be assigned the responsibility of
ensuring that Gilmore and Lessing would conduct themselves in a manner
creditable to their Federation uniforms.  Harry easily accepted the
Captain's condition.   

And so, training sessions for Gilmore and Lessing had begun
immediately thereafter.  Noah had excellent reflexes and obtained 
very high marks with accuracy and response times during range tests
with hand phasers and armed assault rifles.  He became the "de facto"
sniper marksman.  Marla's Engineering expertise brought a wealth of
knowledge to the design and construction of compact incendiary
devices of both conventional and plasma type.  She easily became the
"explosives" expert. 

With four primary members in place, Harry looked to recruit another
half-dozen members to round out the detail.  Weeding out those who'd
had preconceived notions about Marla and Noah, Harry found his six:
one each from Engineering, Security, and Science, and the remaining
three formerly of the "Equinox."  Janeway applied the same conditions
to the remaining "Equinox" three; Harry passed along the
responsibility of keeping the three in line to Gilmore and Lessing. 
If any of them screwed up, Harry would serve their own asses to them
on a plate.

All remaining six members of BlackTOPS would be the "eyes and ears"
sent to "feel out" a developing situation and who would answer to
Gilmore and Lessing.  Learning how to survive Tuvok's tac-sims for
operational preparedness had forged a bond between all team members. 
Eventually, some of the crew had taken to describing BlackTOPS as 
"the Black Ten."

Seven of Nine was not a part of BlackTOPS, which was a surprise to
some, but a blessing to others.  No one on the team was stupid enough
to lay claim to any side of the "pro" or "con" argument to Harry Kim.
As far as the team members knew, Harry had already lived with both
sides of the argument, up close and personal.

While she was beginning to access her long dormant human self, she
retained a core of Born stubbornness.  And she still had a real knack
for saying exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Harry recognized that Seven could provide valuable intelligence
gathering capability to the team.  Even if his own feelings for her
hadn't been completely settled, he had been given time to accept
the fact that he had to think of the people in their little merry
band.  

So, he collected himself, went to Astrometrics, and opened his
conversation quickly and efficiently.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Seven."

At the familiar voice, she turned around from the console to face
him.  She stood a little taller, her hands clasped behind her back.
"I am surprised to see you here."

Harry got straight to the point.  "Seven, I'd like to talk to you
about something." 

She eyed him with a slight lift of her eyebrow.  She was unaccustomed
by his unusually brusque behavior.  "What is it, Lieutenant?"

"I'm sure you've heard by now that Tuvok and I have formed this 
group ..." 

"Yes, BlackTOPS."

"We'd like you to join us, because we believe you'd be a valuable
asset to the team."

Her brows furrowed and she took a step towards him.  "No."

"No?"

"Lieutenant, I am very skeptical of the efficacy of this venture."

"Oh?"  His eyes narrowed, looking straight into her eyes.  "On what
basis do you make this astute assessment?" 

Her left eyebrow was raised even higher.  Was he being sarcastic with
her? 

She gave her explanation with a hint of that old Borg contempt.
"A group of such dimunitive capacity would be an ineffective use of
manpower, an effort which would amount to an exercise in futility.
You have accepted people into your group who are considered
untrustworthy and whose behavior was severely criticized.  It would
seem unwise to enter into life-threatening situations with these
people.  Ultimately, it is a waste of resources.  My answer is no." 

At least, Tuvok could say that on this topic, he would disagree with
Seven. 

"Look," Harry replied, as he closed the remaining distance between
them.  "I believe in second chances.  Those five people are
essentially shunned like they've got Flechtarian plague.  They've done
all right ever since the Captain took them on board.  I've even gotten
to know some of them."

Realizing how he had stepped well into her personal space, Harry
backed off.  "But, I can see where you stand on this issue.  If that's
how you feel, then I guess we have nothing more to say." 

He turned around and began to walk out.

"Lieutenant?"

He stopped, but didn't turn around.  "Yes?"

"I have not seen you in quite some time."

Harry closed his eyes, swearing a silent oath.  "You're correct."

"I ... I have missed ..."

He whipped his head around, as Seven finished her sentence.

" ... the time we have worked together."

Harry hid his disappointment well.  His composure was cool, his face
placid.  "It's been a busy few months." 

"How have you been?"

That cut him short.  His voice softened.  "I'm doing all right,
Seven.  Thanks for asking.  How about you?"

"I find myself discovering a rather wide array of human emotions.
Indeed, the Captain among others have been most amenable in helping
me."  Suddenly, she realized her train of thought had led to the
memories of a young and patient man, who now stood before her.
"However, I often wish for your guidance.  You have always provided me
with valuable discourse and explanations to things I did not
understand." 

This was exactly the minefield he had wanted to avoid. 
"I'm sorry, Seven, but I have to be going."

He could see Seven's face fall with disappointment, but she brought up
her shields.  "We will converse at some point in the future?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Your behavior is unlike what I have recalled in the past.  I wish to
understand the source of this change."  Seven struggled to say what was
really on her mind or in her heart.  She was beginning to wrap around
the fact that she really had missed him.  But what would he think of
her if she revealed her vulnerability - what good would it do?

None, she thought.

"I know; a lot has happened."  But he wasn't ready to offer an
explanation.  When the silence became uncomfortable, Harry spoke up.
"I really have to get going."

"I will ... see you soon, Lieutenant."

"Seven, you deserve an explanation.  One day, you'll get it.
But not right now ..."

She replied softly.  "I understand."  She gave him a sad smile to let
him know that she did.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

BlackTOPS continued without Seven.

Harry's training helped him to develop a decent shot with the phaser
and a better-than-decent shot with the armed assault rifle.  However,
he had begun to develop a taste for "fast-attack" psychological
warfare and had dug up every record to read about the topic.  In
particular, he had begun to assimilate all Federation accounts of 
"single-mode" (or one-against-one) methodology.  

Harry had also gone to Tuvok to restart lessons on the mastery of his
emotions and to begin the procedure of weeding out unnecessary
distractions.  Tuvok had been surprised by the request and he had
questioned Harry's motives; Tuvok had heard the stories about Harry,
Seven, and the Doctor.  Suspicious but sensing no ill purpose, Tuvok
had gone along to train and guide the Lieutenant with his meditation
sessions.   

For Lieutenant Kim, the time at Ops and BlackTOPS plus additional
physical and psychological training necessarily involved long hours.
The intense training had taken a solid eight months.  All of it had
been augmented by his desire for "usefulness" and "efficiency."  More
than anything, it was all a way for him to channel and control his
dark feelings, which continued to greet him every morning.  

Minor operations, which had only been reconnaissance in nature, had
been necessary to reveal strengths and weaknesses.  When Tom, Neelix,
and Chakotay had been stuck on a mining outpost near the frontier
between two warring worlds, BlackTOPS had been sent very quietly to
extract the three with great success, minimal casualties, and no
additional collateral damage.

The ultimate pay off would come six weeks later at Stolgath.  
The problem for Harry was that he hadn't counted on the cost.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"All the passions make us commit faults; love makes us commit the most
ridiculous ones."
						-- La Rochefoucauld

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"We'd be very happy to meet you," Janeway stated to the person visible
on the main view screen.

"We await your presence," the Palleon high official replied with a
grin, which the entire bridge crew saw before communications were
terminated. 

"They look like oversized amphibians ... frogs, almost ...," Tom Paris
supplied. 

"Mr. Paris," Janeway scolded.  She looked over at her First Officer.
"I think we're going to enjoy some long-needed hospitality.  Shore
leave sound good to you?" 

"We sure could use some," Chakotay added.

"I totally agree, Commander." Nodding, Janeway commanded.  "Helm,
descend from our position and into low orbit."  

"Yes, ma'am!"  Paris replied.  He was happy to get some free time and
spend it with his wife.  Their children would come down, of course,
but he was thinking about who could babysit them, while he and B'Elanna
got reacquainted with one another.  

Tom chanced a look over his shoulder to Ops.  Harry looked up from his
console: his face wore the familiar, cold, and unfeeling expression
Tom had quickly learned to dislike.

The Captain interrupted Tom's distracted musings.  "Mr. Paris, you
should be paying more attention to the ship." 

Quickly, Tom recovered, getting back to the simple task of putting
Voyager into orbit.  "Uh ... sorry, Captain."

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he looked up to the owner of the
errant hand.  

"There's nothing you can do for him," Janeway said quietly and
sympathetically.  She too had often wondered just what had happened to
the young man at Ops.  "Harry's got to figure it out on his own."  

"How long is it going to take?  Are we going to have wait until we 
get back to Earth?"

Janeway had thought the very same thing, but kept it only to Chakotay
and herself.  "Hopefully, time down on the surface will do him some
good.

"I hope you're right, Captain."

They had recently entered the star system called Fomalhaut Prime.  Of
the six habitable planets in the system, the primary M-class planet
was Stolgath.  Voyager had established contact with Stolgath and its
people, the Palleon.  

After her first official and very amicable meeting with high
officials, Janeway had "ordered" one week of shore leave.  She
immediately had Neelix perform his ambassadorial "duties" by
coordinating the exchange of technology and supplies. 

The Palleon were a friendly people, though a little shy.  Fortunately,
the diverse Voyager crew were just as friendly and it had taken no
time for the Palleon to warm up to their off-world visitors. 

The Voyager crew had taken advantage of "tourism" opportunities.
The largest continent on which most of the Palleon inhabited displayed
a wide variety of foliage, resulting from different climates ranging
from tropical jungles and beaches to near-boreal forests.  Most had
simply stayed in and around the capital city, Zemnaya tok Foorst,
which was located at mid-latitudes.  The capital had developed a rich
cultural history with art and music.  Crime was relatively low; the
streets were clean and busy with people shopping, talking, eating, and
going about their daily lives.

Unfortunately, the Palleon had not informed the crew of Voyager that
there had been a very alarming jump in the number of abducted
children.  Rumor had it that the children were being used as slave
labor in manufacturing plants and mines throughout the continent.
Law-abiding merchants and traders were making whispers about the
temptations of the ever-increasing lucrative prospects of child labor.
What was particularly frightening was that recent abductees came from
families across all economic lines. 

By about the third day on the surface, news had finally spread to the
Voyager crew.  The Palleon had hidden this information for fear that
Voyager would refuse to visit and leave orbit.  Janeway assured their
hosts that this would not have been the case and offered them
whatever help was required.  After short discussions with their
security officials, the Palleon agreed.  

Sounds like a job for Tuvok and Harry, Janeway thought.  She decided
to send the two men to assess the situation. 

The primary suspect was one Voi'ha Malrood: height two meters and mass
98 kilograms.  A background security check on Malrood had come up with
the following data: he was a goods trader, suspected of maintaining
by violent means a near-monopoly on portable power sources and hand
weapons.  Seeing little need for them in their society, the Palleon
had recently banned high-powered hand weapons, but suspicion lay on
Malrood for the illegal importation of these weapons.  However, no
hard evidence had been found to convict him.  

His parents died when he was very young.  He had bounced from one
foster family to another, never staying for longer than what was
deemed to be "necessary."  He had often endured physical abuse and
seen first hand very ugly examples of power wielded on the helpless.
He had learned early that he never wanted to be at the wrong end of
the cane.  He developed a sense for controlling others through force,
strength, or generally, a good punch to the head.  Eventually, he
learned more subtler means to get what he wanted.  By the time he
reached adolescence, he had already served ten short bouts of
incarceration for minor crimes, including petty theft and various
assault charges.  When he entered the age of majority, he was
considered to be a delinquent and a dangerous miscreant, one who had 
a talent for being devious, resourceful, manipulative, and creative.

At the Earth-equivalent age of 35, he was an experienced merchant
as well as an experienced criminal.  Lately, his monopoly was taking
hard knocks from an increasing number of underground competitors. 
Moreover, it was known that a recent deal had gone very wrong and
Malrood had taken a significant loss in currency.  While he had
exacted revenge on the parties who wronged him, he was still short -
he needed the money and fast.  He was a pretty good trader, and few in
the know were surprised when he made the leap to the trafficking of
children.  

Malrood had always been able to escape imprisonment.  And those
times when he had been captured with a greater weight of evidence
against him, he was always acquitted.  It had been long suspected that
Malrood's growing list of contacts had reached into the heart of the
Palleon judicial system.  Much effort had been expended to ferret out
his "insider" connections with security officials, judges, or other
merchants.  All of it came to naught.

Over the last 17 cycles (six Earth months), five children had been
found.  Each murder had been committed on every third cycle.  The
organs had first been removed and their bodies subsequently cut in
half.  Each body part and organ had been neatly arranged in a
symmetrical pattern around the victim.  Looking at the gruesome images 
of the crime scenes had been difficult for the BlackTOPS team.  

Malrood was the prime suspect, as evidence began to mount of his
proximity to all crime scenes.  He was obviously a clever and
intuitive man, but that Malrood was becoming more prominent in both
legitimate and illegitimate trade circles was of concern to the
authorities, who feared that increased access to potential victims
might spur Malrood to subsequently hasten the murder count.

But the situation was rather unusual because most suspects would run
to their nearest advocate, plead their innocence, and/or harass the
authorities until the investigations stopped.  However, Malrood openly
laughed in their faces.  It appeared that Malrood was daring them to
stop him, if they could.  

Because he had been the only one who volunteered, Harry digested on
the pain and horror from the images and began to develop a picture of
what was going on in Malrood's mind. 

The 18th cycle was just coming around and the authorities were
anticipating and fearing a sixth victim.  Time was running out. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Things quickly went to hell when Samantha and Naomi Wildman went
missing.  

Naomi had been scheduled for her anthropology lesson with Chakotay
back on Voyager and Naomi was never late for her lessons.  The Wildmans
had tagged along with other members of the junior bridge crew, while
they had been walking through one of the city plazas in the bright
morning light and in open view of other Palleon.   

By coincidence, Malrood had business dealings in the area and saw
chances for a great deal of currency to be made.  Because the young
girl exhibited such obvious and unusual physiology, Malrood sensed
that she would be a very valuable commodity within the underground
trade.  Malrood had two of his masked goons engineer a robbery, a
capture of the girl, followed by an arranged site-to-site transport.

For some reason, Voyager could not lock onto either Naomi's or Sam's
lifesigns; commbadge signals with Voyager had also been cut off.
There had been some kind of interference, which had suddenly blocked
communications and positive transport lock.

Unfortunately, Malrood and his men had not accounted for the
tenacity of Samantha Wildman.  She held onto her daughter, even as one
of the goons had used the butt end of his rifle against Samantha's
skull.  The transport process had already begun and Samantha had been
transported as well.  Upon arrival, Naomi and Samantha were
unconscious while the two masked Palleon remained conscious.  The
transport procedure had been arranged to include anesthetic for the
victims. 

Malrood was surprised by the uninvited guest that was Samantha.
With great displeasure, he immediately took out his phaser and shot
dead one of the hired help.  Malrood bent over to check that the woman
was still alive.  Malrood ordered the remaining lackey to transport
the older woman to a secondary location.  Once the human woman had
disappeared, Malrood calmly turned and shot dead the second goon; he
thought it best not to leave loose ends with loose lips.  Initiating a
thirty-second countdown, Malrood transported himself and an
unconscious Naomi to a third location.

The vacant and decrepit building with its two dead occupants exploded
thirty seconds later. 

Once the disappearance of the Wildmans was confirmed, every member of
the BlackTOPS team had their own search perimeters.  Tuvok had been
able to put together a wide-field scan, the results of which had 
placed Malrood to one of three locations.  Tuvok had just arrived to
the second location, when the building in front of him suddenly flew
apart in a fiery ball of smoke, dust, and debris.

The rest of the team found Tuvok seven minutes later and had him
immediately transported to Sickbay for emergency surgery.
Fortunately, the EMH had made quick work of Tuvok's injuries, and
they were not as severe as had previously been thought.  However,
Tuvok required recovery time and he was out of the picture, as far as
his direct involvement with the current situation was concerned.
Janeway immediately assigned Harry as lead officer on the surface. 

Meanwhile, Seven of Nine, working in Astrometrics, had been following
the events on the surface with obvious personal interest.  Seven had
determined the location of Samantha Wildman and had immediately
relayed her coordinates to the Captain.  Positive transport lock had
been obtained and Samantha was transported immediately to Sickbay.

However, Seven could not determine the location of Naomi Wildman.
There had suddenly been a rise in "mirror" transport signatures with
few unambiguous traces of Naomi's whereabouts.  Also, comm signals
could not penetrate the "rotating" or "wandering" interference.

Ten minutes later, Voyager had contacted surface teams about Seven
having transported to the surface.  She couldn't be located because
she had masked her transport coordinates.  It would take Voyager
a few hours to clear Seven's override codes. 

Harry was absolutely livid, as he momentarily ruminated upon black
thoughts of the ex-Borg drone. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

It was approximately the middle of the afternoon.  Zemnaya del Foorst
went about its daily business as usual.  That is, until one traveled
farther out into its industrial suburbs.

Seven of Nine had taken great pains in hiding her transport
coordinates, fearing attention would invite unnecessary danger to 
Naomi Wildman.  Seven walked into a plain two-storey building in the
eastern part of the city.  

She found Malrood and an unharmed Naomi Wildman.  Seven had reasoned
logically with Malrood, but he wouldn't budge.  Then, she reasoned to
his financial needs with the promise of potential technological
rewards using samples of her nanoprobes.  Seeing untold riches,
Malrood agreed.

Naomi immediately ran to Seven, throwing her little arms around the
older woman, holding onto her for dear life.  Seven closed her eyes,
deeply moved, and inwardly hoping that she'd be able to see Naomi
soon.  Seven brought with her an extra commbadge and had slipped it 
into Naomi's hand.  Seven instructed Naomi to leave the building, to
get as far away from the building as possible, and to contact Voyager
once the young girl felt she was safe.  Seven quietly reassured Naomi
that there were no other bad "men" outside waiting for her.  Sadly,
Seven watched as Naomi left the room.  Seven turned around to meet
her fate.

Harry had dispatched Security teams on a wide-dispersal search
pattern.  By now, they knew the location of every building, occupied
or otherwise, but they could not provide simultaneous coverage
because of insufficient personnel required to secure each building.

Minutes after Naomi's message, Harry, Marla, and Noah arrived to find
the young girl, too late to catch Malrood, who had already escaped.
A small energy residual from the transport signature showed that
they'd missed him by thirty seconds.  The four immediately beamed out
when Marla had detected explosive charges.  Precisely 23 seconds after
their departure, the plain two-storey building was leveled into a
pile of rubble.  

Near the central plaza, makeshift headquarters were held in a small
administration building, which had originally been set aside for
security officials.  It was in the main office where BlackTOPS now met
to evaluate the current situation. 

"Damn it!  Thirty seconds ...," Harry stated in disbelief.  "Another
thirty seconds and we would've been right on top of him!" 

Marla watched her command officer pace slowly around the room. Was
Harry angry at himself, she thought, because this had been allowed to 
go this far?  Or was he angry because Seven had put herself into
danger?   

All were relieved that Naomi wasn't harmed, though it was certain she
would have nightmares for some time to come. 

He stopped pacing and leaned over a desk, his arms stretched out in
front of him.  He breathed in and out, remembering what Tuvok had
taught him about separating himself from his emotions in tense and
stressful situations.  But he couldn't avoid it - cold fear: a once
beloved friend, and a most hated enemy.  The darkness set upon him, 
embracing him in its chill and loneliness.   

Harry spoke out loud to straighten out his mind, not knowing or caring
who was within hearing distance.

"He cuts the kids in half ... that it separates them from their past,
to free them into the future ... punishes them ..."

Pacing.  Back and forth.  Thinking like him, what was it like to
become the enemy, to become Voi'ha Malrood ...

"No ... striking back ... the crimes aren't directed against children,
but their parents ... he hates the parents.  He wants to punish them
... eviscerate ... " 

He walked over to another desk and brought up a PADD, cycling through
the information, making sure he stopped and looked carefully at the
images: the blood, the chilling lack of respect for the dead, and the
horror.

" ... atoning for his own lack of a childhood ... not of a child, but
thinks like a child ..." 

Seven would be a variable, an uncertainty as far as Malrood was
concerned.  The serious problem was Harry just didn't know what
Malrood would make of Seven.

The remaining members of BlackTOPS knew to stay well away from Harry
when he entered into this frame of mind.  As Harry delved further into
Malrood's head, the depths into which he would sink would manifest
itself in a temper that rivalled and, once, had exceeded B'Elanna's.
The tac-sims had forcefully revealed that part of his personality.

"Come on ...," Marla Gilmore quietly hinted to her colleague, Noah
Lessing. 

Noah had been gathering information on Malrood's last location and
was about to inform Harry of the latest news.  

It could wait, Noah wisely noted to himself.

They walked to the other corner of the room.

"Noah, could you do me a favor?" Marla asked.  

"Sure, Marla.  What is it?"

"Could you secure additional information about the Palleon which could
somehow connect the children with Malrood?  Anything that the local
governing and security officials might have missed.  Even if we get
the same information as we do now, we might have missed something."

Noah glanced between Marla and Harry.  Lessing nodded in assent.
He collected two PADDs from a nearby table and pressed two sequences
of keys on each PADD.

"All right," Noah replied.  "I'll take this PADD and you take this
one."  He handed the other PADD to his colleague.  "See if you can
make some sense of his dealings within the Palleon underground."

Noah walked out of the room in search of the first government official
on his list.  

Marla turned to Harry, who now sat five meters away.  He looked tired
and defeated.  As she walked towards him, she watched him closely,
empathizing with what he was feeling at the moment.  She remembered
one of the first things Harry had told the BlackTOPS members when they
began their training: "sinking to the bottom can sometimes provide the
only means to come back up."

Well, that's certainly true for Harry now, Marla thought.  "Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry asked, his voice roughed by emotion and his previous
outburst.  He looked up at Marla.

She grabbed a chair and sat next to him.  "I hate to say this, Harry.
You've got to talk to Naomi.  I'm sure I don't have to remind you, but
Seven doesn't have a lot of time."  

Marla put her hand on his arm, a gesture of comfort and a reminder of
who and where he was.  A little upturn of his mouth showed that he was
grateful. 

"I know," Harry replied.  He would have to collect himself, digging up
new reserves of strength to meet the challenges which lay ahead.

He looked up and met Marla's eyes.  For the first time since he began
working with her, he realized that she was attracted to him.  The way
she looked at him now reminded him of what he had once ... still? ...
once ... felt for Seven.  He recognized now that Marla's actions
around him in the last few weeks made a little more sense, as the team
had worked so well together and he'd been working more closely with
her.  Unfortunately, Harry did not share in those feelings, even
though he had found her to be very attractive.

I'll have to talk this out with her later, he thought.

"Okay," Harry breathed out.  "I'll go and talk to Naomi now.  Thanks."

"Any time," Marla replied with a small smile, squeezing her hand on
his arm.  She stood aside as Harry made his way over to the Wildmans.

Naomi Wildman had not been physically harmed in any way, as she'd been
Malrood's captive for only one hour.   Malrood hadn't enough time to
carry out his ritual with the little girl.  Nevertheless, Naomi was
a little shaken from the ordeal. 

Because Voyager had gone into a rotation of shifts to maintain minimum
operational status, Lieutenant (j.g.) Samantha Wildman had duties and
reluctantly transported back to the ship; she had begged Harry to
inform her the moment he got any news.  Upon learning of her
daughter's release, Samantha had immediately transported down to the
surface to be with her daughter.

Harry looked over and watched as the Wildmans had been in a tight
embrace for the last few minutes.  With tears in her own eyes,
Samantha had mouthed quiet words of comfort to her daughter as they
cried.  

When he saw that the young girl's tears had ebbed, he walked over and
put his hand on the Samantha's shoulder.  Samantha looked up at the
man before her, gratitude clearly written on her tear-stained face.

He offered a gentle smile and spoke softly.  "Samantha?  I'm sorry.
I've got to talk to Naomi for a couple of minutes." 

Samantha turned to ask her daughter.  "Are you up to that, honey?" 

"Yes, mommy."  

Samantha closed her eyes: just two words, but the way her daughter had
spoken them brought fresh waves of pain.  There was nothing more she
could have done, but it didn't stop Samantha from feeling guilty, if
there wasn't *something* more she could have done.

Seeing Naomi's assent, Samantha replied.  "I'll be right here, Naomi,
if you need me.  I'm going to talk with Marla over here.  Okay?"

The young girl nodded weakly.  Her mother bent down and kissed Naomi
on her forehead.  Samantha walked over to where Marla had been
collating profile data on Malrood.

Harry crouched down to his knees so that he was talking to Naomi at 
her own height.

"Hi there.  How're you doing?"

"Not so good, Harry."

Harry extended his hand for her to take.  After a beat, she took his
hand.  He led them to a couple of chairs where they sat.

He took a moment to look at his young friend.  He wanted so much to
wipe the frightened look from her face.

"Could you tell me a little bit about what happened?"

"We kept moving around.  I don't remember much ..."

"That's okay.  Whatever you can remember will be very helpful."

She looked up.  "Are you going to look for Seven?" 

"That's how you can help us.  Any little detail will help us find
Seven."

Remembering the time when Seven had voluntarily returned to the Borg,
Naomi voiced the same question, then as now.  "You're not going to
give up?" 

"No."

Naomi relayed a few details of the surroundings where she had been
held captive.  It appeared that she and Malrood had moved to five
different buildings within a span of a ten minutes.  By Naomi's own
descriptions, all of the rooms where she was held looked pretty much 
the same: big and empty, tall ceilings, a few boxes or containers here
and there.  Nothing out of the ordinary.

"There was a loud sound," Naomi added.  "There were lots of them.  And
flapping ..." 

"I don't understand."

"The sound reminded me of the Forest of Forever.  One of the programs
was called Flotter, Trevis, and the Flight of Fancy."

Something immediately clicked.  "Birds?" Harry asked.  "Did they sound
like birds?" 

"Birds?"  Naomi chewed on that for a moment.  "Yeah, that's it -
birds!"

"That's great!  You've helped us out a lot."  He could see the fatigue
as she struggled to keep her eyes open.  "Hey, look what I've got ..."
He reached over and behind Naomi where he had hidden his surprise. 

"Flotter!" Naomi held tightly to her blue doll.  "Thanks, Harry."

Her smile disappeared moments later with the memory of her captivity.

"What's wrong, Naomi?"

"That man was a big meanie."

"I know.  He won't ever hurt you again," Harry asserted.  

"Promise, Harry?"

"I promise."  He leaned over and held her.

"Thank you," Naomi spoke quietly into his shirt.  She considered
something and looked up at him.  "I'm scared."

"I know ..."

She pushed back a little from him.  "No, I mean, I'm scared for
Seven." 

Harry hadn't expected that.  Naomi's words had opened a particular
door, one he thought he never would have to revisit.  All the same,
it was open, but just a little ...

"I am too, Naomi," he admitted.

She moved back to sit in her chair.  "She likes you, you know ..."

"Excuse me?"  Harry looked at Naomi, who in turn was looking at him
oddly.

"Seven.  She misses you, too."

"How do you know that?"  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees,
suddenly interested in this topic. 

"Welllll, you know that we spend a lot of time together, right?
We play Kadis-Kot, I hang around with her in Astrometrics, all that
stuff.  We talk about stuff, too."

"What kind of stuff?"

Naomi smiled at him - she could see right through him.  "I talk about
the time I spend with Neelix.  She tells me what's she's doing in
Astrometrics.  I talk to her about the things I'm learning from the 
Doctor.  She tells me about her observations of the crew."

"Oh?  Um, anyone in particular?"

"Why do you want to know?" Naomi challenged him.

Harry replied defensively.  "I'm just interested in what you two have
to say about the crew, that's all." 

"Really?  I think you're interested in what she has to say about
you, Harry ..."  

Harry chuckled.  "You've seen right through me, Naomi."

Naomi beamed at him.  "Of course!  But she says nice things about you
and sometimes, she's sad when she talks about you."

"How do you know she's sad?"

"I just know; she just looks ... sad.  Lots of other people think
she's mean and rude, but I know she's not.  I can tell."

"I know you can tell.  You're a good friend to her."

Naomi stopped to think about that.  "She said we were family."

"Yes, you're right - you two are like sisters."  Like a sister neither
of you have had, he thought.

Naomi brightened at the description.

Harry leaned in a little closer, as if to share a secret.  "Just
between you and me, Naomi ... I miss her, too." 

"Maybe you should tell her, Harry."

He couldn't help but smile at her honesty.  "I will." 

Naomi nodded, pleased that she could help both of her friends.
"Can I go with my Mom now?"

"Of course."  Harry helped her to her feet and held onto her
hand as they walked over to Samantha.

"Did you have a nice talk with Harry?" Sam asked her daughter.

"Yes, I did, Mommy."  Naomi showed off her favorite doll.  "And look
what he brought me!" 

"Naomi was very helpful to us,"  Harry supplied.  He looked at
Naomi.  "Don't worry - we'll find her in no time."

"There's nothing else to keep you here, Samantha." Harry indicated.
"Take your daughter home and put her straight to bed.  That's an
order." 

Smiling, Samantha replied.  "Thanks, Harry ... for everything."

"All part of the service, ma'am."

Samantha turned to her daughter.  "C'mon, honey, time to go."

Naomi waved.  "See you later, Harry," 

He waggled his fingers at her.  "Bye."

Harry watched Sam and Naomi walk out of the office.  Marla walked up
to Harry, following his gaze out the door.

"I'm glad she's okay," Marla said.

"So am I, Marla."

"Did Naomi have anything that we could use?"

"Yeah, I think so."  He turned to his colleague.  "She said that she
heard what sounded like `birds' in one of the buildings before she was 
transported to another location.  We should check it out as soon as
possible."  He moved off to look at their list of officials with 
whom to confer. 

Marla grabbed his arm to stop him.  "It's late; you're beat.
When's the last time you had any sleep?"

Harry blinked.  "I don't know, quite honestly.  It might be thirty
hours or so."

"Go," Marla replied, releasing his arm.  "Sleep for an hour.  Or two.
You'll actually make a lot more sense to us once you've had some
shuteye."

"But ..." Harry protested.

"But nothing, mister.  Don't make me call the EMH."  Marla warned.

"Oh geez," he replied with a grin.  "Don't ever say that if you're my
friend." 

I would love to be so much more, Marla thought.

Harry held up his hands in mock surrender.  "Okay, you win; I give
up.  Set up a meeting right here for 2000 hours tonight.  I want to
find out if what Naomi told us will pan out."  Harry yawned.

At Marla's smug smile, Harry added.  "You don't have to say it, Marla;
I'm going.  You try and catch a few zzz's, too."

"Yes, sir."

With a chuckle, he tapped his commbadge.  "Kim to Voyager, one to beam
up." 

For the entire time, Harry lay on his bed awake in his darkened
quarters, thinking about Seven.  She'd be all right - she was a
strong, capable woman.   

Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and slowly in a rhythm that
would allow him to fall asleep.

But she was alone.

He opened his eyes.  He couldn't help but worry.  

Hold on, he thought.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Sacrifice is an overrated thing, best paired with an airlock;
especially when it comes down to deciding whether or not a fellow
crew member should be put into an all-too perilous situation.
Especially when that person is someone about whom you care a great
deal."  
      -- Lt. Cmdr. Jorvel Radziewski, U.S.S. Aconcagua (Akira Class),
	 "Writings and Wanderings in the Beta Quadrant", 2377

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

He finally fell into a fitful sleep.

He awoke when Noah had signaled to tell him that they were onto
something.  The scheduled meeting occurred two hours earlier than
planned and they all continued to work through the night.

By the following morning, discussion with local officials revealed
that the sound that Naomi heard was of native fowl.  From their
description, Noah had provided the best parallel with cranes on Earth.
There was a wildlife sanctuary outside the capital about twelve
kilometers to the northwest.  

There were over one hundred warehouses and large-container buildings
within a five-kilometer radius of the sanctuary.  They all could sense
they were beginning to corner the beast.  The unspoken task would be
to encircle the monster without having it strike back.  But they knew
they could not possibly search every building and they were fighting
an uphill battle against the clock.

The clock struck shortly thereafter, when the Voyager teams were
contacted by Malrood. 

Malrood had used Seven's commbadge to contact Voyager's Security and
BlackTOPS teams.  As lead officer, Harry responded to Malrood's call.
Malrood had "requested" that only Kim come and meet with him to
negotiate the release of the prisoner.  Malrood revealed preassigned 
coordinates in lieu of double- or more site-to-site transports to hide
his present location.  This would all happen in "ten hours Earth-time"
or close to local sunset.

Sunset would in fact mark the end of the 18th cycle.  If Malrood was
hungry for his sixth victim, Harry didn't think it would matter who
that victim would be, child or adult. 

Contingency plans were made.  Harry consulted with Marla and Noah; he
transported back up to Voyager to confer with Janeway and Tuvok.  In
the end, he convinced them all to do it his way.

Two hours before he was to arrive at the first set of preassigned
coordinates, he had locked himself in his quarters and meditated,
remembering the lessons Tuvok had taught him.

	    clear your mind - envision the light as your focus.

	    breathe deeply and engage yourself in the task of
	    focusing your thoughts into clarity.  move forward
	    through your thoughts, until you obtain your true self.  

	    now.  go back to moments in your life where you met with
	    conflict.   think back and recover the resolutions to
	    those conflicts. 

	    consider the elements of this knowledge and remove all
	    extraneous details.

	    embrace the truth.  regardless of its beauty or its
	    sinister nature, acceptance is the first step towards
	    freedom from anger or pain.

His eyes flew wide open.

He transported back onto the surface and made final preparations.  He
threaded his arms through the straps and set onto his back a small
bag, which was packed with a couple of diagnostic tricorders, flares,
a med kit, and extra gauze.  The holster next to his right hip
contained a phaser.  An extra one was tucked in his bag; a third taped
sufficiently to his back so that the "butt-end" of the phaser would
not be noticeable through his shirt, if and when he removed the
backpack.  Finally, a serrated knife was taped to his lower leg just
inside the right boot. 

He didn't make much small talk with his team; everyone already knew
that there wasn't much else to do but wait.  It was all up to their
leader.  He set off on foot for the anticipated thirty-minute walk.

Continued attempts by surface teams and by Voyager to communicate with
Seven of Nine failed.  He had contacted his team just before his
arrival at the first set of coordinates.  Once he had been transported,
subsequent attempts to track Harry had failed.

After transports into various plazas around the city, Harry finally
arrived at the final set of coordinates.

And here he was, out in the middle of nowhere, by himself and without
support.  Out of the frying pan and into the damn warp core, he
thought.  

Some four kilometers from the sanctuary, a building in particular was
noteworthy by its blandness.  

It was as if the building was not supposed to stand out, Harry
thought.  He knew he was close.

He tapped his comm badge.  Not surprisingly, there was no resot ae.
 
He entered the building unannounced.  His first impressions were of a
dark, dank, and dingy cavernous warehouse.  Because Stolgath's sun had
begun to descend behind the nearby hills, it was too dark to navigate
the hallways without illumination.   

Swallowing his fear, he entered the building carefully.  He stretched
his arms in front of him, one hand crossed over the other at chin
height.  In his right hand, he held his phaser; below and around his
left wrist was a portable flashlight.  Both phaser and flashlight were
aimed in the direction he was moving.

He took easy and measured steps, walking astride to reduce his
cross-section in the face of possible enemy fire, swinging his arms,
slowly and deliberately from one side to another, as he walked further
into the building.  A hallway led to an empty hall with huge ceilings.
Above, he could make out a mezzanine and an additional floor, which
opened into this very same hall. 

Too much damn open space, he thought. 

With the flashlight, he felt like an open target, begging to be hit.

A voice suddenly boomed to life, echoing off the walls.  A cold wave
swept through Harry.  

"Come on in, Mr. Kim.  I've been expecting you."  Chalk it up to
motion sensors, Harry thought.  "You are currently in a large hall
with six exits.  Aside from the one which you've just entered, one
other exit is marked.  Go through the marked exit, down that hallway,
through a smaller room, out that room, turn right and all the way to
the end.  And do make it quick, Mr. Kim."  

Harry's mouth was set in a grim line as he followed Malrood's
instructions.   

As Harry entered the smaller room, he saw a nightmare come true.  His
eyes were wide with fear and anger at the sight of dirt and so much
blood.  The blood appeared in streaks on the walls, radially in all
directions.  Dried pools littered the floor, giving it a mottled
appearance. 

Natural curiosity momentarily surpassed his horror and he focussed
on unusual objects littered on the floor and on various tables.  He
swallowed the lump in his throat when he saw what appeared to be 
body parts: a finger here, a toe there.  

A small part of an arm.  Or a leg.

And there, unmistakably, a small torso.

Harry closed his eyes to shut the images and muttered a silent oath.
Malrood had deliberately maneuvered Harry to walk through this room. 

Harry collected himself for the challenge ahead, converting the horror
he felt into reinforced ice.  Remembering his meditation sessions, he
slowly breathed in and out, clearing his mind for the job of rescuing
Seven. 

Eventually, he made his way out and found himself entering a second
and smaller hall. 

"I was wondering if you'd gotten lost, Mr. Kim."  

There was a smile connected to that voice.  A very cold smile.

Harry's first sight in the room was of Voi'ha Malrood, standing tall.
Malrood wore a short-sleeved buttoned up vest, which covered the upper
portion of his body.  His skin was covered with large dark spots,
which reminded Harry of the parallel Earthbound fact that big ugly
frogs were cold-blooded. 

Harry saw that Seven was held in some kind of containment field about
three meters in diameter.  Her hands were held together with metallic
shackles.  Coming up to the captor from the side, Harry saw that
Malrood was pressing a device held to his wrist, which caused Seven
great discomfort.  She was holding her head, her eyes closed, her face
wincing terribly in a mask of pain.  

Harry knew the cause of her pain: an indirect neurogenic link to
Seven had been established, facilitated by Malrood's wrist transceiver
containing microscopic optical-silicate circuitry.  The explosion the
previous day had not completely destroyed or burned everything in that
building.  Marla and Noah had found pieces of what appeared to be a
device.  Subsequent reconstruction and intense testing over the last
day by BlackTOPS and Engineering teams had revealed its nefarious use.
Worse, the team had determined that the transceiver seemed to have a
fail-safe measure - if the controller's life signs fell below some
threshold, the person being controlled would die a quick and sure
death. 

Over to the side was a large computer console.  Harry inferred that 
the console was the source of whatever inhibiting field had been set
up which surrounded the building.  Once Harry had entered within
twenty meters of the building, his commbadge was rendered useless.
So, the console would be key - Noah had helped to determine that
the source of the power for the transceiver would have to be in near
proximity for full effectiveness.  

All Harry had to do was to get to the console and initiate power
shutdown.  Simple ... 

The obvious problem was going to be removing or negating the use of
Malrood's wrist transceivers.  Harry hoped that Seven would realize
her nanoprobes could be utilized in ensemble to create a dampening
field around her body, which would prevent damage to her nervous
system.  The dampening field could also have the added benefit of
reversing the polarity of the containment field.  Complete reversal
would depend upon the intrinsic strength of the containment field.
If the rate of energy accumulation by her nanoprobes was sufficiently
slow, it was entirely possible and hopeful that Malrood would not 
be able to detect Seven's nanoprobes at work.

Or so Harry hoped.   And a lot of ifs and assumptions, too, for that
matter.  He hoped Malrood didn't have more surprises in store. 

"Welcome, Mr. Kim!  Let me introduce myself ..."

"I already know who you are," Harry interrupted.

"Yes, I'm sure.  Please put down your weapon - you won't be needing
it.  I'm sure you know what will happen if you shoot me."

At Harry's hesitation, Malrood made a show of pretending to press his
wrist console.  Harry held his hands, palms open, and slowly put the
phaser on the ground.

"Kick it over to me."

Harry kicked the phaser and landed about five feet in front of
Malrood, who picked it up and put it next to the console.

"Your other phaser, Mr. Kim."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't insult me!  I've got energy sensors in the room."

Harry reached around and behind his back.  He removed the tape holding
the phaser and held it high in the air..

"Easy ... throw it over here."  The phaser made a thunk on the ground
next to Malrood.  "Also, please remove your pack - I can't be too
sure, you know."  

Satisfied when Harry had removed his pack, Malrood spoke up again.
"Well, you and Seven of Nine have an especially exciting opportunity
to take part in a most unusual experiment." 

"Get to the point - we're not interested in participating in your
`experiment.'"

"I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter, Mr. Kim.  I've been able
to access the records on board your vessel.  I must say that your
record is most impressive.  Moreover, your own personal logs have much
to say about yourself ... and other people."

Harry ignored the bait and calmly asked.  "What do you want, Malrood?"  

Malrood chuckled.  "It's all very simple.  Answer the following
question and I will let your friend go.  Tell me what is your one and
true desire."  

"That's easy, Malrood ... I desire a peaceful solution so no one
gets hurt."

"Oh, I'm afraid that's no longer possible."  Malrood pressed one key
to his wrist.  Harry watched in horror as Seven writhed in pain for
five long seconds.

Seeing that Harry did not noticeably flinch, Malrood pressed another
key and the energy pulses used on Seven stopped.  "Try again,
Mr. Kim."

Ignoring Malrood, Harry asked.  "Are you all right, Seven?"

"I am undamaged," Seven replied, even as her breathing was labored.

"You're sure?" Harry asked.

She nodded in reply.

Harry turned back to his opposition.  "What is it really, that you
want?" 
 
"Let's start with an easier question then.  Tell me, what do you
really think of ... what do you call it ... the Emergency Medical
Hologram, one whom you call `The Doctor'?"  

"Don't waste my time, Malrood ..."

"Come now, Mr. Kim, your audience needs to know how you really
feel."  Malrood was enjoying this new aspect of the game; he never
felt more in control.

"As if you already didn't know ...," Harry replied casually.  He could
sense his words were being manipulated.  Harry was beginning to feel
the stress and, internally, the build-up of emotions boiled.

Malrood made a play of putting his fingers onto his forehead.
"Let me see ... you said ... you said in your logs that he was a
... an `insufferable prick.'  Quite an interesting turn of phrase;
very colorful!"

Seven's eyes opened a little wider at the sound of the epithet.

"Why, Mr. Kim," Malrood prodded.  "You can tell us more, can't you?
We're all friends here, aren't we?  You can tell us that you were
extremely jealous of the fact that Seven and this Doctor were in a
relationship.  You felt injured by the fates and you wanted to strike
back, but ohhhh, you felt guilty for feeling that way ... tsk tsk
... who knew you were so passionate about such things!"

It was relatively easy for Malrood to derive these conclusions about
Kim, which were based upon the latter's personal logs.  Kim had not
mentioned specific things about Seven or the Doctor.  But it had been
relatively easy for Malrood to derive a picture, once Kim had entered
the room and taken one look at Seven of Nine.  It pleased Malrood to 
no end, despite how much effort Kim had expended in hiding his
feelings behind that artificial mask of "control". 

These ... humans, Malrood thought, were entirely too primitive, too
easy for those like him to manipulate.  It was entirely too bad that
the young Ktarian girl had been exchanged for the woman before him.  
The horns on that girl would have fetched a pretty good sum.

But, the sight of the woman before him held opportunity.  She was an
intelligent creature to be sure.  He immediately sensed that she
was still ... very young somehow.  He would have to put that to the
test.  Before he removed the Borg implants out of her body to sell.
The open market would be interested in their applications; simple
tests with a couple of her implants revealed that the power utility
curves were beyond what he had ever imagined.  Much money could be
had by the artifacts of the Borg alone.  Serious profits, indeed. 

But first, he wanted to have some fun.  He wanted to rob these two of
their dignity, steal their dreams, and then finally, rid them of their
misery by killing them.  

Braving the rising discomfort, Harry maintained control of his anger.
He wanted to turn the tables by trying to get Malrood to talk about
his troubled past.  Harry wanted to gain control by making his
opponent lose his, and subsequently, have Malrood lose his focus.
"Why do you do it?"  

"My dear Mr. Kim, I have to make some kind of currency.  I trade in
little Palleon to fund my reserves.  But I choose one or two of them
to kill just to have a little pleasure of taking life at will.  
The underground slave trade has been a profitable venture.  But, I've
grown bored with my little business.  Killing one or two in the
initial process was a way to experiment my way out of the boredom.
The real power, you see, is how I can decide who lives ... and who
dies.  It's breathtaking in the clarity I find in wielding my god-like
power." 

"You sick bastard ...," Harry gritted through clenched teeth.  His
eyes had become wide, blackened with rising waves of hatred over the
manipulation. 

"Meeeeee???? ...." Malrood's reply was augmented by a hearty and
unexpected laugh.  "Well, it's true - by most accounts, I would have
to say that I've got a sickness and that I need to be healed."  A tiny
frown appeared on his face.  "When I was a boy, I was tossed around
and no one really cared where I ended up, or whether I was alive, or
dead.  I was no one's concern - so, I learned that I could beat
the odds with my own methods; so, that my existence would in fact be
noticed and that I would be a somebody."

"Malrood, you can stop this now.  You can rise above this.  Let her
go and we can talk."

"Tsk, tsk," Malrood's voice suddenly turned.  "Oh, we'll talk, most
certainly.  But it would be an absolute shame to waste our little
meeting of opportunity and, besides, we have many of your hours to
whittle away and discuss the finer aspects of humanity."  Malrood
grinned cruelly at Seven.

Seven simply glared back at Malrood.   

Another small victory, Malrood thought with glee, and redirected his
verbal exchange to the simmering Lieutenant before him.

"Speaking of the finer aspects of your people, it's remarkable how
much of your history is filled with death," Malrood intoned, as if he
were giving nothing more than a lecture.  "A time filled with
great lies, complicit deceit, and acts of complete and malicious
intent towards other human beings.  I have learned so much from your
ancestors, Mr. Kim.  I believe I can put these lessons to good use.
My work is just beginning, you see, and there is so much more for me to
do.  There was this most barbaric period in your history, where that
particular Empire had a saying : `work begets freedom.'  I know now
where my destiny lies, because the phrase is particularly apt to the
goals I now want to accomplish."

A chill ran up Harry's spine.  He had all that he needed to learn
from past conversations of old Earth history with Tom.  It was an 
extremely dark period in the history of centuries past.  A devastating
war had broken out in the first half of the twentieth century;
concentration camps where systematic mass-killings were undertaken
with chilling efficiency had signs on their gates, giving false
promises to those for which there was little hope to gain : "Arbeit 
macht Frei."

Malrood had begun to drift, lost in the visions and machinations to
his many designs.  Realizing his distraction, he turned once more
towards Kim. "But, with the two of you here, I can tell you in all
frankness that I have much entertainment left."   

"What do you mean?"  Harry hated asking, but he needed to know, needed
to keep Malrood talking.  Harry didn't want to think about what would
happen once Malrood stopped talking. 

"I mean," Malrood replied, as he directed Harry's glance over at Seven,
"that I have so much time to decide which one of you is going to
watch the other die.  I'm going to have some fun with you two.
Instead of killing you quickly for the thrill of it, I really do
believe that I want the pleasure of meting out pain to one of you
while you watch the other die."    

"You're insane."  A cold wave swept through Harry, looking at Seven
with fear in his eyes.  Harry hoped that he could muster the proper
communication with his gaze.  

I hope you're working on that dampening field, Harry thought.

Fortunately, Seven had already figured that out as well and had hoped
Lieutenant Kim could stall for some time.  She needed another five to
ten minutes.

"Go to hell, you son of a bitch ...."

But, Malrood hadn't felt threatened in any way.  "Why, thank you,
Mr. Kim.  That's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me
... but only if you'd oblige and lead the way."   

It had taken a little more effort for Malrood to sense Kim's pain and
isolation, but his skill was honing on his adversary's weakness and
vulnerability.  The conversation was supposed to distract Malrood;
instead, he had found it to be useful.  Malrood firmed up and directed
his voice to Harry in a command voice.  

"The process must be hastened now.  Give me the answer to my original
question, Mr. Kim, or I will kill her."

To emphasize his point, Malrood pressed a button on his wrist console.
Immediately, energetic pulses coursed through Seven via the restraints
around her hands.  The pulses had the unique capacity of seizing her
lungs, inhibiting her ability to breathe.  She began to moan, making
choking noises, her breaths coming up short.

"No!  You bastard ... "

"Tell you what, Mr. Kim.  I'll make it far more sporting."  Malrood
was delighted by being with the moment.  He took one of the phasers on
the computer console and threw it back in Harry's direction. 

Harry reached down with his right hand and picked up the phaser,
quickly aiming it at Malrood's head.

"First things first, Mr. Kim.  What is it going to be ... choose
wisely ..."  He chuckled.  "You know full well what will happen
to your Borg friend if you kill me ..."  

The delicious feel of control slipping, sliding from one foot
to the other ... Harry was on that slope, feeling himself slide ...

"All right, all right!  Stop it, just stop it."

In reply, Malrood grinned from ear to ear, sensing victory was close
within his grasp.  This was just too much fun ...

"Tell me what is your one true desire.  Say it, Mr. Kim."

"I'm gonna kill you, Malrood."

"That's right, Kim - you'll get your chance, but you must first give
me your answer.  Or she dies a very slow and painful death." 

It was so very hard for Harry.  Countless times he had heeded his own
warnings and carried his own counsel on the matter.  Years of denial
all brought to a crashing halt, face-to-face with the beast within,
and now living the waking nightmare of dealing with the monster before
him.

"No ... I ... can't ... please ..."

"Mr. Kim, Mr. Kim ..." Malrood soothed.  "You know full well that
there's nothing more to be done.  Come now, no more denials; be a good
little boy and tell your little playmate the truth." 

Seven saw that Harry Kim was now in great distress.  Through the
dullness of her own pain, Seven was defiant.   "Malrood, you must
cease this at once! I will do whatever you ask of me." 

"Oh, I'm sure you will.  But I'm talking to Mr. Kim right now."

"Please ... so hard to say ..."  Rivulets of sweat flowed down the
side of his face, as he tried to manage to regain the upper hand, but
he was reduced to a few snatches of coherence.  This was madness, 
he thought grimly. 

Malrood pressed his final advantage, feeling a little closer to the
edge, to deciding which one of these two lovebirds was going to die.
But, first, he had to step back, so that the truth would be known 
to all.

"Mr. Kim," Malrood intoned quietly and coldly.  "You must reveal your
answer to my question.  Or I press this little button and your friend
gets a final taste of my displeasure." 

"No ... stop!"  All the strength within Harry drained from him.  The
next words out of his mouth were hollow.  "Please ... I'll say it ..."   

Malrood chuckled, exhilarated by his manipulation. 

"Excellent, Mr. Kim.  I'm waiting ..."

"I ...

"Yes?"

"I love her."  He had voiced the words so quietly that it had become
silent.  The air itself had stilled to listen to his words.

"I don't believe I heard you, Mr. Kim.  Louder ... so we all 
can hear."

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to look at Seven.

"I *love* her.  Are you happy now?!  I love her ..."

With the liberation of his own soul, tears streamed freely down
Harry's face, blurring his vision.  Perhaps he was thankful that he
was half-blind now.  Because, as he looked at up Seven, he found her
gaze directed back at Harry, cutting him through to the bone.  Her
mouth was open with shock and surprise.  

Malrood's voice shook Harry from his musings.

"I believe this phase of the game is over now.  Put down your weapon,
Mr. Kim.  It's Seven's turn to have some fun."

"NO!!!" Seven cried out.  "Lieutenant Kim, you must fire!"

"What is it going to be, Mr. Kim?"  Malrood asked menacingly.  "I can
still kill her." 

Damn you and the primordial pool your ancestors swam in, Harry thought
darkly. 

"I'm warning you, Mr. Kim!"

"Can't ... risk your safety, Seven ..."

"*Unacceptable*!!"

"I'm sorry ...," Harry replied weakly.

"Throw your weapon to the side," Malrood commanded.

Seven looked on in horror as Harry complied with Malrood's
instructions, as Harry tossed the phaser to the side.  Never before 
had she seen Harry look so entirely vanquished. 

"You know what, Mr. Kim?"  Malrood inquired.  "We *are* going to have
some fun after all."

Malrood had never felt more alive.  He had once operated on structure
and routine, but this match round was quite the heady experience.
What new things could he think up? 

"Go to hell," Harry spat.

"Too late," Malrood said proudly, "I'm already there.  I just want
you to join me."

"So what happens now, Malrood?"

"Well, Mr. Kim, I'm thinking that I can now turn the tables.  I can
now focus on Seven of Nine." 

A rush of anxiety surged within Seven and Harry.

"Seeing as she's part human," Malrood supplied with glee, "she has
things to hide.  Things which I'm sure I'll be able to get her to
reveal." 

"No."  Malrood and Harry turned to the source.  "I will not comply,"
Seven added.

Malrood turned to face his experimental subjects so that both were
in the same field of view.  "You forget, Seven, that I can kill you by
pressing just one button."  He held up his wrist transceiver for
effect. 

"That is of no concern to me.  You may kill me or you may not kill
me.  The answer remains the same: I will not comply."

"Seven, you don't have to ..."  Harry said.

"Do shut up, Mr. Kim!  Aren't you afraid, my dear Seven?" Malrood asked.

"Fear is irrelevant."

"You play up such a brave front.  I wonder ...," Malrood paused for
effect.  "I wonder if you would be so brave if I harmed Mr. Kim."

"You must not harm him!"

"Wellll, hit a sore spot, have we?  I'm afraid you're in no condition
to dictate what I can or can not do.  Remember those body parts I
showed you before?  

"Shut up! ..."  Seven closed her eyes.

"Now just imagine in your mind," Malrood probed.  "Remember what you
saw in that little room ... all those body parts ... ohhhh yes, that's
right ... imagine Mr. Kim cut in half ..."

"Shut up! ..." She shook her head to refuse the vision of a dead Harry.

"... His organs removed and shown individually for your benefit ..."

"SHUT UP!!!" Seven cried.

Malrood laughed with delight.  "You both are so much fun."

"I'm all right, Seven,"  Harry soothed.  "Malrood, let her go and
... I'll do anything you ask of me."

"Like a good little boy," Malrood added.

"NO!!" Seven shouted in desperation at Harry.  "You must resist!"

"Hee hee heeee ...," Malrood's high-pitched giggle suddenly brought 
a chill to his two unwilling participants.  "Time to die ... time to 
die ..."  Just as quickly, a pout appeared to form on Malrood's face.

"I'm beginning to tire of this experiment.  I have decided that
one of you will die now.  Who is it going to be?" 

This wasn't happening, Harry thought bleakly.  But if Malrood turned
away from him, if Seven could just distract him, Harry might have a
shot at that phaser on the ground.  So close ...

Malrood posed thoughtfully, glancing at Harry.  "I know!  I'll choose
one of you and that person will decide: to willingly commit suicide or
to watch the other person die.  Oh, the choices we face in life and
death!" 

Suddenly, the look on Seven's face changed and she simply stated.
"My shields are up."  

Feeling energized for the first time during this encounter, Harry's
eyes lit with understanding. 

Malrood whipped his head around in horror.

"Resistance is futile," Seven pronounced smugly at her captor.

What happened next was a complete blur - that's what Harry would
recall later - but the first thing in his mind was that Malrood was
very quick in his reaction.

Malrood knew that his wrist transceiver was now ineffective.  He
reached within his cloak and pointed a phaser at Harry.  Seeing
Malrood suddenly reach for something close to his body had alerted
Harry to action.  Harry had begun to dive towards the floor to execute
a "horizontal roll" to limit the cross-section of him being hit by
Malrood's impending fire.  

But, Harry wasn't quick enough.  Malrood successfully shot off two 
volleys. 

One had barely missed his ear, though he felt the slight burn on his
scalp.  The second volley hit him high on his arm, just below the
shoulder.

Yelping out in pain, he knew it was going to be a very bad plasma
burn.  By the time he was able to give voice to his pain, Harry was
already rolling on the floor, remaining forward.  Grabbing the phaser
from the floor, he raised his hand and attempted to fire a volley in
Malrood's direction. 

Unfortunately, the phaser on the ground was defective - Harry saw that 
the power source had been drained.  The pain in his arm began to blind
him, as he struggled to hold onto consciousness.  He began to crawl
forward, but he collapsed from the pain.

At that moment, Seven was now free to move outside of the containment 
field, even though she still had shackles around her hands.  Once 
her nanoprobes had successfully set up a near-proximity approximation
of a dampening field around her body, the field had reversed the
containment field polarity with the added bonus of rendering Malrood's
wrist transceiver to be useless.

At the same time, Malrood was enraged at the unexpected interruption.
He pressed his wrist transceiver, but to no avail.  No matter, he
thought, as he would just have to kill them both "the easy way."  He
reached beneath his cloak and, near his belt, found his trusty
hand-phaser with his right hand.  He opened fire in the direction of
the nearest target who came to mind: Lieutenant Kim.

Just as Harry was about to roll away from Malrood's expected fire,
Seven had already been "on top" of Malrood.  With the aid of her
ocular implant, Seven determined that the mass volume density was
at a minimum in Malrood's lower back.  It was there that she focused
on the weakest point of entry.

Calmly, she walked up from behind to within one-third of a meter of
Malrood.  She stretched out her arms with the top of her left
wrist aimed at the Palleon's upper torso.

Malrood saw to his satisfaction that Kim had been hit, high on the
shoulder.  He was about to fire off another shot when he sensed 
movement behind him.  Instinctively, Malrood swung back and around,
wildly, with his right forearm.  He had just gotten out of the way
from Seven's Borg tubules extended from her left arm, but the tubules
had managed to snatch the phaser.  But the remaining inertia from his 
swinging motion had effectively blocked her arms to the side, but most
of the force had dissipated to Seven's upper body.

Because Malrood stood at least half a meter taller and weighed twenty
kilograms more than Seven, the force of the backward blow stunned and
almost felled her.  Seeing her prone, he wound up and threw a punch to
her abdomen, before he delivered a massive forehand to her head with
his right fist.  She crashed to the ground a meter away with minor
cuts to the upper arm and her neck, but a major gash across her
forehead. 

Malrood walked over to the computer console and grabbed the remaining
and working phaser.  He turned to look at his handiwork.  It was
short, forceful, and brute, but it had been effective nevertheless. 
Satisfied by the sight of Kim who was on the ground writhing in pain,
Malrood stood triumphantly over a bleeding Seven.  At least, Malrood
thought, she remained defiant and had the courage to glare at him,
even if the end was near for the two of them.

"At the very least, my dear Seven of Nine, he'll never know how you
feel about him!"

Seven's eyes opened a little wider, even through the dull pain, which
threatened to swallow her.  "He knows ..."

"Does he now?"  Malrood cast a glance behind at Kim, who lay still but
labored to breath on the ground a few meters away.  "Somehow, I
seriously doubt that.  Besides, I don't think heard you anyhow.  Oh
well, this party has to end sometime.  Do you have any final words?"
Malrood raised the phaser point-blank at Seven.

Seven closed her eyes and, in a moment of clarity, she regretted she
hadn't had more time to give voice of her feelings to Harry.  She 
waited for death to come. 

This was the moment Malrood had anticipated.  "Listen, Mr. Kim, 
as she dies by my hand!"

Suddenly, a gurgling sound came from Malrood's direction.  Seven
opened her eyes.

Malrood's eyes were glazed over with shock and disbelief, as a wet
gurgling sound continued to come from his throat.  A huge, wet spot
was beginning to grow on his cloak.  Malrood stumbled onto the ground
and breathed his last. 

A knife appeared deep in the middle of his back.

Seven looked up and found Harry standing over the body.  His face was
streaked with dirt and sweat.  He was favoring the hit to his
shoulder.  But she had been frightened by the look in his eyes, oh,
how she would remember for the rest of her days, the look of rage in
his eyes ... and, in that brief moment, she would have done anything
to spare him that look.  

Harry nudged the dead body with his boot to ensure that Malrood was
truly dead.  Harry walked over and dragged his backpack closer; he
took out a med tricorder to scan the body.  There was no doubt now.

Harry finally looked at Seven, who was in turn silently gazing at
him.  Her eyes always told him the truth.  She didn't have the calm,
cool, and collected demeanor.  No, there weren't any more masks - not
here, not now.  Her expression was open, naked, and tender.

He didn't want to know how he looked to her at this moment.

Harry and Seven simply looked at each other, with Malrood's dead body
between them.  Only the sounds of their slow breaths kept company
for the living.

They'd been touched by evil, as the smell of death lingered 
in the room.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The next thing Harry did was stumble over to Seven, who was now
upright.  Having removed the phaser from Malrood's hand, Harry fired
the phaser over her shackles, which fell uselessly to the ground.
Dropping the phaser, he was on knees and put his hands on her arms,
ensuring that the touch of her was real to him.  That she was alive,
the only important thing to him ... 

Collecting himself, he took out the med kit from his pack and applied
the small dermal regenerator to her surface wounds.  He avoided
looking into her eyes, even as he knew she was staring at him.  The
deep gash to her forehead was a little more serious.  He grunted in
pain, as he dug in his pack for antiseptic.  He stopped when he felt
her hand on his forearm.

Her voice was soft and concerned.  "You should rest.  You're hurt."

"I want to make sure your cut isn't infected."  He continued to dig,
until he found the antiseptic.  "Okay, this is gonna hurt ..."

He dared himself now and looked into her eyes, fearing the shame,
regret, and whatever she must feel for him now.  And yet, her eyes
remained true and sharp, as always.  But they were warm - the warmest
he'd ever seen.

Protecting her eyes with a swath of thick gauze, he slowly poured the
antiseptic over her wound.  She winced and closed her eyes at the
searing heat on her forehead.  Her hand which had remained on his arm 
squeezed involuntarily.

"Sorry," he muttered, as he began to dab her wound with the gauze.
"I don't think I should use the dermal regenerator on this cut,
because I think it's too deep."  Throwing aside the used gauze, he
took out some med tape and fastened fresh gauze to her skin.  "This'll
have to do until we get back to Voyager.  How do you feel?" 

"I am feeling a little lightheaded, but I believe I am relatively
undamaged." 

"Good, good ... take it easy and you'll be fine.  Arrgghgh ..."  He
reached over for his shoulder. 

"Lieutenant!"  She removed his hand, which covered the wound on his
shoulder.  "How does it feel?"

He looked up at her.  "Like somebody took a bite out of it ... and
then gnawed on it some more."

"I will treat your wound now."  Her tone did not allow room for
refusal. 

"Yes, ma'am ..."

Tearing off the burnt portions of his tunic, she cleaned the wound, 
applied the antiseptic (to the great gnashing of his teeth), and taped
a generous amount of gauze to his shoulder to stop the bleeding.  His
eyes remained closed at the pain, but he could still feel her fingers
lingering on his arms. 

Even in "victory," Harry was slumped down on the ground, his posture
seemingly in complete defeat.  It might have been exhaustion, but he
didn't think so.  

If he hadn't seen it, he never would have believed it.  He opened his
eyes ane saw that Seven had leaned over, her tentative hands reaching
out and touching his face.  She put her palms against his cheeks and
felt his warmth seep into her hands.

He closed his eyes once more.  He felt so cold ...

Seven rose and walked over to the large console and deactivated the
proximity shields, which had surrounded the building and effectively
hindered communications.  Seeing that the means for communications had
been restored, Seven tapped her commbadge.

"Seven of Nine to Voyager."  Despite what had happened, her cool voice
had returned.  The only difference was in the clipped delivery of her
words. 

[ Seven! ]  Janeway's voice held both concern and relief at hearing
Seven's voice.  [ What is your status? ]

"Lieutenant Kim has suffered a phaser burn to his shoulder, but
remains conscious.  I am ... fine.  Malrood is dead." 

[ We still can't get a positive lock on you to transport; so, we're
going to send down the Doctor in a shuttle.  ETA to your position is
about fifteen minutes. ]  

"Understood."

Something was tugging at the back of Janeway's mind.  Something in
Seven's voice ... 

[ Seven, are you sure you and Harry are all right? ]

"Yes, Captain, we are ... relatively undamaged.  However, the events
which have transpired may warrant more examination than expected.  We
will await the shuttle's arrival at our present location.  Seven,
out." 

Seven of Nine looked at the man sitting on the warehouse floor.  She
was surprised by his body language: his posture was hunched over, his
gaze downwards and distant, even though he had saved her life.

She didn't know what she was feeling.  She could only describe it as
an internal storm, whipping things up with frenzy, and leaving her in
a highly disturbed state.  Fortunately, out of the storm, she was able  
to identify fear and shock, but mostly, she felt gratitude ... and
affection for the man before her.

"Thank you for coming to get me."

He looked up at her, a shadow of deep sadness and longing danced in
his eyes.  The look disappeared just as quickly with the utterance of
his words.  

"You're welcome, Seven." 

He returned his gaze to the floor.  Seven sat on the floor, taking a
place beside Harry.  

"Are you all right, Lieutenant Kim?"  

He looked at her.  "Yes, aside from the awful pain in my shoulder,
I'll live." 

For a few moments, all they could do was stare each other wordlessly.

"So, Seven, do you think this was an `exercise in futility'?"

Her eyes were wide, feeling pain at the words she had once thrown at
him, when she had turned down his offer to join BlackTOPS.  "Lieu ..."

"Sorry, Seven.  It's a developed reflex now ..."

"One to which I am greatly unaccustomed."

"It's been almost two years."  Looking up, he regarded the woman
sitting beside him.  "I've changed."

Another silence descended upon them - one waiting for the other to say
something, anything; until Harry broke the silence.

"What were you thinking, Seven?"  Harry asked, tiredly.  He had
already formed an answer to his own question, but he needed to hear it
from her mouth.

"Please explain."

"Why did you exchange yourself for Naomi?"

"She is an innocent and must remain unharmed.  I feared for her
well-being.  Is she safe?"

"She's okay; she's with her mother now.  You thought you could offer
more `value' as a hostage, didn't you?"

"That is correct.  My Borg implants would have been a valuable
commodity on the open market." 

"What you did was an incredibly selfless act, Seven, but you scared
the hell out of us all.  The anger began to rise in his voice.  "You
should've come to us first ... you could've been killed ... "  

"I believed there was little time to consider other alternatives." 
There was no other choice open to me." 

A toneless quality had crept into her voice and Harry took that as a
sign of something that needed to be addressed.  "What Malrood had
done, it frightened you, didn't it?" 

"I was alarmed by his actions," Seven replied softly.  "What I saw as
the result of his `work' was completely disturbing.  I simply cannot 
understand how a rational person can treat other beings in such a
fashion."

"You're right; it isn't rational.  We don't try to pretend to
understand it either, but we try to look out for others, we keep
watch, to fight if we have to.  We do it to protect the ones we love." 

Seven seemed to accept this.

A moment later, Harry asked.  "Remember the time when Janeway rescued
you from Unimatrix One?" 

Her lips turned upwards, warmed by the memory.  "How could I
forget?  The Borg believed my uniqueness could help them in their
assimilation of humanity.  In the end, when I had returned to Voyager,
I finally began to accept that I was a part of the crew, a part of
your collective." 

Harry smiled briefly at her recollection.  "We were so worried about
you.  I knew you couldn't have willingly gone back after the two years
you'd spent here on Voyager.  All the people you've met, how far you've
come, your ..."  Harry suddenly darkened at the thought and averted
his eyes away from Seven, casting his glance down to the floor.  

When is that shuttle going to get here? he thought.

"What is it, Lieutenant Kim?"

Apparently, not fast enough ...

"Your relationship, your `affiliation' with the Doctor," he supplied.

"I see."  She began to understand why Harry was so upset.  "But you
know full well that we ended our affiliation months ago."  

Based upon the events that had transpired, Seven realized she needed
to get to the source of his distraught state, that might offer some
explanation how it came to be that he had strong feelings for her.  It
was such an incongruity, ever since Harry had gone into "internal
exile" and made his presence very scarce.  

Had he felt this way about her from the very beginning?  From the
moment when she asked him to copulate with her?  When she thought he
was going to leave on the Dauntless and she going to stay in the Delta
Quadrant?  When she decided upon her affiliation with the Doctor?
At the moment when he kissed her for the first time in Cargo Bay Two? 
There were so many questions, answers to which she needed to know.

"Seven, I'm sorry."

"For what do you have to be sorry?"  Deja vu, Seven recalled
immediately, as a wave of emotion swept through her.  Her eidetic
memory suddenly brought her back to a conversation within Cargo Bay
Two, all those months ago ...

And in between, an affiliation, a few dates, his withdrawal, her
evolution, an admission of love, a dead serial killer, a dirty floor,
a planet thousands of light-years from their intended destination.

"He almost killed you, Seven."

"Fortunately, Malrood was not a capable fighter."  A hint of a smile 
and a sympathetic look appeared on her face.

"Thanks for the levity, Seven.  But it's not working."

Seeing her attempt at cheering him fall flat, Seven went straight to
the point. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

It was the one question Harry did not want to hear.

"I didn't want you to know, didn't want to complicate things.  Between
you and the Doctor ... between you and me ... I dreamed about you
... thought of you and me together ... s-so, I stayed away ..."  

"I did not know ... you must tell me more, I ..."

He held his hand up.  "I think I've delivered more than enough for one
night."  He couldn't do this.  He looked up at her, pleading with his
eyes for her to wait.  He placed his hand on her arm to emphasize his
point.  

"But we should discuss ..."

"No, Seven, not right now ..."

"Please," Seven spoke softly, her voice rough with need and emotion.
"You must comply ..." 

"No," Harry stated more firmly.  He hoped that his request would be
enough.  Any more words from him and he was afraid he was going to
sputter on like an idiot.

Just like the Harry Kim of old.

That was just one more indignity he could not bear to reveal.

For a long moment, Seven looked at Harry.  No longer able to meet
her eyes, he looked down.

"Very well," she replied.  "But I hope that we will speak soon of this
matter." 

"Okay.  I promise that we'll talk about it.  Soon."

Silence reigned in the remaining time until finally, the shuttle and
its occupants arrived.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Janeway and Tuvok walked into Sickbay to visit Harry and Seven.
The Captain had praised Harry and his team for a job well done,
for securing Naomi, Seven, and twenty-three Palleon children.  It
hadn't taken long for Harry to determine where the children had been
kept.  Fortunately, Malrood had maintained extensive records of his
holdings and his profits; once locations were known, Harry had sent
the rest of his team to liberate the children.  Tuvok congratulated
his BlackTOPS junior officer with familiar Vulcan aplomb.  Harry
answered the praise of his Captain and the Commander with a tired but
grateful smile.  

For the most part, Seven's own injuries had been minor.  The gash on
her temple was easy for the Doctor to handle.  The electrical charges
Malrood had used did not seem to permanently damage any of her
implants.  Forcing Seven to promise she'd come back every day in the
next week to evaluate possible effects on her implants, the Doctor
released her with the additional promise that she regenerate for the
next thirteen hours. 

With her verbal agreement to the Doctor, she hopped off the biobed and
walked over to the adjacent bed where Harry lay.  A look passed
between them, before she left Sickbay.    

The Doctor had repaired Harry's injuries and set him off on his way
for sleep and recovery.

Fifteen hours later, Harry awoke and set about immediately to making
his account of events.  After Harry had submitted copies of his report
to Tuvok and the Captain, he wanted to solve two problems: the first
problem would be a little difficult.  Still, problem number one
would be much easier to approach than the second problem.  And that
was - he would have to think seriously about what he would do about
his admission to Seven of Nine. 

First things first, Harry thought.  He immediately sought out Marla
Gilmore for a little chat.   

"Computer, locate Crewman Marla Gilmore."

::: Marla Gilmore is in Engineering. :::

Easy enough.  Down the corridor, a turbolift ride, and the next moment
he knew he was walking into the hallowed halls of Engineering.

"Harry!" B'Elanna greeted him with surprise.  "What are you doing
here?"  

"Here as always to make your life a living hell.  

"Thanks, Harry.  But I've got enough to handle with Tom, Re'kehr, and
Rachel."  The Paris' children were already well known throughout the
ship for their energetic and, sometimes, destructive behavior.  "Are
you sure you're okay to be running around the ship?" 

"The Doc cleared me."  Harry grinned at his friend - h aneally had
missed her.  He glanced around, searching for Marla.  

"Are you looking for something or someone?" B'Elanna asked.  "If
you're looking for Seven ..."

He cast a look of warning at her.  "No, B'Elanna, I wasn't.  I was
looking for Marla - you seen her?" 

"Marla, huh?  Sure, she's over at ... Station Ten.  Hey, you know,
when you've got a moment, I'd like for you to come on over and have
dinner with us." 

"I'd love to.  That should be an event with Uncle Harry and the whole
Paris clan."

"Very funny.  Seriously, I'll let you know once our schedules can be
rearranged, okay?"  B'Elanna made a show of putting her hands on her
hips.  "If you skip out on us, I'll hunt you down like the p'taQ you
are and break your legs.  And if you're lucky, I might not even shoot
you."

"How can I refuse?  Why, that Tom Paris sure is one lucky guy.  And
the Paris' children are gonna love you, when they enter adolescence.
I'll talk to you later, B.L.T." 

"Later, Harry." She answered crossly, her warning tone belying her
affection.  She raised her hand to squeeze his arm before she went off
to affect another one of the daily checkup routines. 

Harry walked over to Station Ten and found Marla working over a
console.  He watched her for a moment, proud that she was his
BlackTOPS colleague, and happy that she was able to participate
meaningfully and productively with something she obviously was well
suited to doing.  He also noted again just how attractive she was. 

Must be the loneliness talking, he warned himself.

"Marla?  Can I talk to you about something?"

"Sure, Harry."  She threw a dazzling smile at him.

She really has a pretty smile, he thought.  "Could we go somewhere and
talk?"  

"You're in luck; I'm just about to go off-duty.  Where would you like
to go?"

"I'd like to go somewhere with some privacy."

"We could go to my quarters," Marla suggested. 

Reluctantly, Harry replied.  "Uh, sure, okay ..." 

They walked into Marla's quarters shortly thereafter.

"Would you like something to drink?" Marla asked.

"A cup of hot green tea, please."

"Have a seat," Marla said as she turned to walk over to the
replicator.  "I'll be back with your tea."

He took a seat and glanced around, taking a look at her living space.
There wasn't much in her quarters which revealed anything specific
about Marla's personality.  She'd had to start over again when she,
Noah, and the others had been brought aboard Voyager.  As a result,
Marla had used her allotment of replicator rations only for what was
absolutely necessary to day-to-day living.

Fortunately, she had served her time well on board Voyager, although
most had kept their distance from the former `Equinox' crew.  They had
been grateful when Tuvok and Harry had invited them to take part in
BlackTOPS : it had felt so very good to `belong' again and to feel
that they were contributing meaningfully to the whole.

She returned with a steaming cup, cradled below by a saucer plate.
"Here's your tea, Harry."

"Thanks.  You're not having anything?" He blew some of the surface steam
and sipped carefully.

"No, I'm all right.  So, what would you like to talk about?"  She took
her place beside Harry on the couch.

"I want to talk about your attraction to me."

"Direct as always, aren't you, Lieutenant Kim?"

"I'm afraid so.  That's certainly what the last few years have taught
me."

"So I've noticed, Harry."

"Oh?"  His curiosity now piqued.  "What else have you noticed?"  

"When I first met you, you were young, smart, someone who cared about
others.  Someone whom I thought was very cute."  Seeing the blush rise
in his cheeks, she grinned.  "Someone who had survived a great deal
and had maintained a positive outlook to people and to his work.  You
never gave up.  You also believed in us, in our ability to find our
way back to do the right thing.  Even though we were considered
outcasts, you went out of your way to find out how we were doing.
I'll never forget that and I'll always be grateful.  All of it is part
of the reason why I like you so much." 

Harry was touched someone had thought of him in that way; it'd been so 
long since ...  "You know what I think, Marla?  I think you're pretty
damn good looking yourself."  Marla beamed at the compliment.  "You're
intelligent, resourceful, courageous yet vulnerable, you've got a
beautiful smile, and you're a very rare person who's kicked Seven's
ass and actually lived to talk about it."

Marla laughed.  "I'm sure she's never forgiven me for that."

"I don't think she knows how to hold a grudge," Harry replied.  "All
the same, it's true that I've never seen you two within a couple
meters of each other."  He drank more liberally from his cup now that
his tea had cooled some. 

There was much more he wasn't saying, Marla could see.  

She had hoped that with time, Harry would get over Seven and that he
would see "additional possibilities" with the people who surrounded
him.  Like herself, for example.  She had liked him from the moment
she had come on board Voyager.  And even after that, Harry had gone to 
great efforts to include the Equinox Five in his circle of friends.

However, the timing of it all had been a little suspect, she thought,
even though it had mattered little to her at the time.

Soon after Seven and the EMH started dating, he had begun to spend a
little more time with her and Noah in the lower decks, which meant
he was spending less time with the senior staff.  And even though
the relationship between Seven and the EMH had ended, Harry hadn't
altered his patterns.  Although he held no exclusivity of his time
with them, he continued to spend time with her, Noah, and the others.
Eventually, he included them in BlackTOPS, sealing their "unofficial"
inclusion into Voyager ranks, even if grumbling could be heard by
those who were far less forgiving.  Of course, by now, Harry had known
to care very little about what anybody thought.

Harry was smart and attractive, she thought.  Although he could
be a little wary at times, he was always friendly to her.  They had
seemed to develop a kind of friendly flirting; they both felt safe
with each other, now that they were friends.  But there were times she
had caught him looking at her a little oddly.  It was a look with
which she was quite familiar.  And that's because it was the same look
of longing she sometimes had for one Harry Kim.

But time hadn't been on her side, because it was obvious that his
heart still belonged elsewhere, even if he had refused to admit that
part of himself.  The way Harry looked at her, Marla saw, was mixed with
guilt, because she could see that he believed it was wrong for him to
look at her in that way.

Damn that ex-Borg, Marla thought.  

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she continued.

"But ... you still have feelings for her, don't you?  Something
happened on Stolgath, when you found Malrood ..."

"Yes, something ... happened."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry gave Marla the short summary leading up to the point where
Malrood had managed to squeeze out from Harry an admission he had once
thought long buried. 

Marla nodded gravely.  "You spoke the truth, didn't you?"

"I did.  But ..."

"No, Harry, no `buts'.  It's better now that she knows."

"Perhaps, but honestly, I'm not sure what I should do."  Harry looked
down.

Marla saw herself at the crossroads.  But, they trusted each other
with their lives.  Ultimately, she would be fair to him.

"You've got to talk to her, Harry.  You need to admit to yourself what
it is you're feeling, then you need to go right up to Seven, and tell
her without reservation just what your feelings are.  Then, I'm sure I
don't have to tell you that you have to allow her the room to decide
just what she's going to do with that information.  You'll just have
to take a chance on her and that she'll reciprocate your feelings." 

"Dispensing advice about love, are we, Marla?"

"Hey, don't knock it if you haven't tried it."

"You'd be the perfect counselor.  That is, after you've taken over
BlackTOPS, usurped me as its co-exec, and taken over my Ops position."

"Don't tempt me, Kim.  Now, get the hell out of my quarters before the
rumor mill starts something about the two of us." 

"Too late.  B'Elanna knows I came down to Engineering to look for you,
she's probably told Tom by now.  I'm sure he'll mention it to one
of any number of patients who'll have dropped by Sickbay while he is
on med-shift today.  In other words, I'm sure the entire ship knows by 
now." 

"Wonderful," Marla replied, rolling her eyes.

"See you and Noah in Holodeck Two later?"  Marla, Noah, Tuvok, and
Harry were scheduled for a tac-sim they wanted to try out at 1830
hours. 

"We'll be there, *sir*."

Harry grinned at Marla and got up from her couch.  Doing the same, she
followed Harry to the door.

Sensing something else which had remained unspoken, Harry turned
around and asked.  "Are we, I mean, you and me, okay?" 

"Harry, you know that I ... I have feelings for you ..."

"Marla," Harry swallowed and gathered his thoughts.  "If it were any
other time, another place, I would be receptive and I'd be interested 
... more than interested, actually.  But I need to know just where
Seven and I stand.  If there's any chance, I need to know."

"I know," she replied a little sadly, averting her eyes momentarily. 

Harry kept his gaze level at her eyes until she looked up at him.
"Marla ...?"

She gave him a reassuring smile.  "Yes, Harry, we're fine."

He nodded.  "Marla, you were close ..."

"But I'm still in `second' place."

A measured pause occurred before Harry answered.  "Yes.  I'm sorry,
Marla."

Marla looked at him.  "No, Harry, don't ever be sorry.  I'm glad
you were honest with me, even if it hurts."

His heart reached out to her.  He took her hand in his and
squeezed.  

"I'll see you later, Marla.  Thanks again for the tea."  He threw a
lopsided grin at her and, with that, he left her quarters.  

"See you, Harry," she whispered to herself.  Her eyes glued to the
doors, Marla backed up to her couch and sat down.

Seven, Marla thought darkly.  You'd better treat him right or I'm
going to haul your Borg ass out of an airlock.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry was one very worn out man, even more than usual.  

Over the last two nights, he had a great deal of trouble sleeping.
Sometimes, the images burned so brightly that he'd begun to see them
with his eyes open.  

The first night he replicated himself a glass of warm milk and that
had been effective.  Well, more or less ... 

On the second night, he walked around the ship until he got tired.
He'd almost fallen asleep outside Astrometrics and then, once more
outside Cargo Bay Two.  He'd been tempted to enter, but decided in the
end that approaching her in his exhausted state would not reap many
benefits. 

Tonight had been night number three and he figured that he'd been
tired enough to get through an entire evening with uninterrupted
sleep. 

No, his nightmares would have none of it.

Harry turned from side to side ...

 ... all those children ... victims cut up ... open cavities ...

	"Why me, Harry?  Why me ... ?"  

They all cried out to him ...

...  "Help me ... please ... why are they hurting me ...?"

A vision of a blonde woman lying dead on an examining table in Sickbay.
	
	her heart pumping ... by itself

		  ... then organs removed .... 

	no sign of implants ...

 ... oh god, she's fully human ...

     "You are hurting me."

He looked at her in horror ... her eyes wide open, alive but dead.

	"You are causing me pain."

Tears down her face, her arms reaching out to him, pleading ...

	"Somebody ... please help me ....."

"SEVEN!!"  

Harry awoke, screaming her name, clutching the bedsheets.  It had
taken him a moment until he realized he was in his quarters. 

"Lights!"

The dark room lit in compliance. 

He took slow easy breaths to calm himself down.  Roughly, he wiped the
wetness from his face with the back of his hands.  The sweat on his
skin and on his wet nightshirt began to cool, making him feel clammy.

"Computer, what is the current time?"

"The time is zero-three thirty-eight."

I am not going to sleep again, he thought.  Not tonight.  

It was too early for someone who'd been reassigned to Alpha shift.  
He hoped Neelix's coffee would be good this morning.

He got up out of bed and stood, stretching to the satisfying sounds
of cricks and pops.  He ran his hand across his face, feeling the
rough effects of accumulated stubble.   

After a quick shave and shower, he put on a set of casual clothes and
was out the door in twenty minutes in search of his first cup of
coffee for the day. 

He wasn't surprised to see that the Mess Hall was vacant.  Invoking
minimum light level to the room, he walked over and found the pot of
coffee Neelix always left for those who needed it.  He poured himself
a cup and walked to the replicator.   Ah, why not, he thought ... as
he ordered a sour cream glazed doughnut, which would be replicator
credits well spent. 

He walked over to the end table in the far corner of the room and sat
down, facing the viewport and the stars.  Drinking his coffee and
nibbling away on his doughnut, he realized he hadn't done this in a
long time - a period of reflective contemplation where he would just
sit and look out into space.

Some time had passed when he heard the doors to the Mess Hall open.

Well, there's something you don't see every day, he thought.

Even with the low light level, he could clearly see that the person
entering the Mess Hall was Seven of Nine.  She looked like she usually
did: burgundy biosuit, shoulders straight, ...

And her head slightly tilted because she's seen me, he thought.

He watched her striding towards him in that familiar and efficient
Borg-like manner. 

But upon closer inspection, she appeared a little disheveled.
Strands of her hair were out of place and loose around her ears.  
Her eyes looked red, her face worn.  It was almost as if she'd
been crying ...

No, it must have been his over-worked imagination.  That had to have
been it.  He had a nightmare and his mind was overcompensating for the
fact that Seven was here, real, and alive.

"Lieutenant Kim."  

She said his name formally, but in a familiar tone of old - cool yet
comforting.  It'd been like those times he had entered Astrometrics to
find her already present.  Those memories seemed like it had happened
a million years ago. 

"Good morning, Seven."  He looked back out the viewport, afraid to
stare for too long at the woman standing before him.

"May I join you?"

"No one else here, but Starfleet's most upstanding Lieutenant." 
When she hadn't moved to sit, he shifted his head to look up at her.
"Please, Seven, by all means."  He returned his gaze out into space. 

Instead of sitting across from him as he had expected, Seven sat
beside him to his right.  He had the distinct feeling he was being
watched. 

"Are you watching me, Seven?"  He continued to sip his coffee.

"I am."

"Not much for answers today, are you, Seven?"

"I am ... unsettled."

That got his attention.  He looked at her, seeing with finer detail
that his prior description of her was correct: she didn't look to be
herself.  He turned his body towards her.

"What's wrong, Seven?" Harry asked with concern.

"I was unable to complete my regeneration cycle.  I have been having
difficulty in fully completing my scheduled periods of regeneration
since our return to Voyager."

"Is there something wrong with your implants?  Does the Doctor know?
Perhaps you should go to Sickbay ..."

"In the last few days, I have seen enough of Sickbay to last the next
two months, Lieutenant.  

Harry chuckled at that.  "So, what's going on?"

Seven looked embarrassed, her eyes suddenly leaving his, shifting from
side to side. 

"Hey ..." Harry spoke softly.  He reached out and put his right hand
on top of her left hand.  The Borg exoskeletal structure on her hand
had never frightened him.  He caressed her hand, his thumb stroking
up and down the metallic tendrils.  "It'll be all right." 

Looking down at his hand on hers, Seven was comforted by his words and
his touch.  She believed him and felt encouraged by his strength.

"I believe that I am unable to regenerate because my mind has retained
disturbing images of my ... our experience with Malrood."

"That's normal.  Your mind is trying to work its way through the
experience."

"Is it the same with you, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, it is.  I had to delve into Malrood's mind so I could find you.
In effect, I had to `become' Malrood."  

Harry could see Seven visibly shudder with the thought of trying to
reconcile the man before her with the same person who had abducted
her.  He curled his fingers around hers, squeezing her hand.

Harry continued.  "My mind is now to trying to work its way out of
it.  I ... I had a nightmare tonight and it's the reason why I'm here
by myself in the dark.  I'm trying to sort things out, too." 

It was better not to say anything about the details of his nightmare,
and certainly not any details which pertained to the woman sitting
next to him.  Discretion was a better choice to him.

Seven spoke.  "I was alarmed as well by my subconscious'
interpretation of events in the last week.  When I awoke prematurely
from my regeneration period, I desired your company.  And here I am
..." 

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, so open was her admission of
her need to be with him.  A glimpse to her vulnerability would
always be his undoing. 

"Yes ... and here you are," Harry echoed with a sympathetic smile.  

He was happy that she was sitting with him; he hadn't realized
until now that being alone hadn't really helped.  He just didn't want
to question why he was happy Seven had sought his company. 

They sat in companionable silence.  Harry and Seven looked out the
viewport, silently contemplating.  Their hands remained clasped, a
warmth reaching up and enveloping their arms.  They would often cast
glances at each other, when they mistakenly thought the other hadn't
noticed.  

Harry looked over at Seven.  A particularly unruly strand of blonde
hair appeared over her forehead.  He waited until she looked back at
him.  Her eyes wore the look of an unspoken question.  Feeling bold,
he reached up with his free hand and used two fingers to smooth her
hair back over her ear.  Gently pulling the strands back had caused
his fingers to brush against her cheek.  His fingers burned at the
touch, while her cheeks took on a rosy blush.

Her eyes softened for a magical moment when he touched her.  Just as
suddenly, the next blink brought an element of control back to her
eyes.  He brought his free hand back down.

What the hell is happening to me, he thought in alarm.

"How do we proceed?"

Harry was befuddled by her question.  "What do you mean?"

Seven waited a beat before responding.

"About our encounter with Malrood."  But this is not what she really
meant.  Seven wanted to talk about what was happening between her
and the attractive but frustrating man sitting next to her.

"We're friends, right?  If we're continuing to have problems sleeping,
we can seek each other out and we'll talk about it.  We can survive
this; we will adapt." 

"We are friends?" Seven asked with great interest.

"Yes, of course," Harry replied.  "What makes you think we aren't?

"You have gone out of your way to avoid me in the last two years.  We
have rarely spoken to each other in a setting outside of our
respective duties and obligations.  If I understand correctly, those
conditions are not ideal or conducive for the maintenance of a
friendship."

A younger Harry would have been completely flustered.  The older
version of the man recognized the hard truth, bearing the mark of a
bullseye as he recognized it.  

It was more like a shot to the head, he thought.  It was a figurative
"shot," of course, but it had felt real all the same.

When she was still a Borg drone, she had attempted to communicate with
the Collective after she had been left behind on Voyager.  Harry was
only trying to make her feel welcome, but his words came out wrong.
They sounded dumb and made him feel a little foolish.  She had caught
him unaware and felled him easily with a blow to the back of the head.

It was quite the inauspicious beginning, he thought.

"You're absolutely right, Seven.  I have been avoiding you.  You're
also correct about how friends need to spend time with each other.  I
haven't exactly been a great model for a friend to you ... or to Tom
and B'Elanna, for that matter."

"I concur.  In fact, I have sought the advice from both Lieutenants
Paris and Torres in this matter."

"You did?  What did they say?"

"They indicated to me that you needed time.  For what purpose they did
not reveal to me.  At the time, I could not comprehend why you would
need two years of ..."

"I'll tell you why," Harry interrupted her.  "I didn't want my
feelings to get in the way.  I thought I was protecting myself,
because I thought I was in love with you.  It's completely ironic that
I sacrificed our friendship because of my own selfishness."  

Seven was taken aback by his directness.  Her opinion of the "old"
Harry was beginning to destabilize.  New information was being
assimilated into the construction of an entirely different opinion of
the Lieutenant.

"You were in love with me?"

"Yes," Harry replied.  

"When did you know?"

"The moment when you told me I was not a candidate."

Seven tilted her head with interest.  "Explain."

"I had come into Astrometrics and you were evaluating your list of
candidates.  I didn't know you had any outside interests and you said
that you hadn't known either.  I was amused by your reaction."  
A tiny smile appeared on Seven's lips with the same memory. 

"Anyhow," Harry continued.  "You told me your interests included
quantum mechanics, astronomy, and music.  When I pointed out rather
obviously that I played the clarinet, you flat out refused me.  After
all the time we'd spent working together, I thought that I might have
been a possibility.  I don't know; maybe it was arrogant of me to
think so." 

"Lieutenant ..."

"Seven, please," Harry stopped her.  "Let me finish.  I admit that I
was hurt.  But there was a sudden moment of clarity, because there I
was, hopping onto the platform with you and we went through the list
to get to Chapman.  I knew that if I really cared about you, I could
be patient and supportive.  I just thought that in time you would
finally see me as a possible candidate."  

"I admit that at that time, I had not considered you as a
possibility." 

"I know.  That was the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Surely, Seven, the hundreds of kiloquads of information you've
compiled on the entire history of known mating rituals would have had
something to say on the matter."

"I do not understand."

"When you hooked up with the Doc, I finally realized that my feelings
were one-way.  I took stock where I'd been and where I wanted to go.
But, I simply could not go about the ship's business and pretend that
I didn't care, that I didn't feel the way I felt about you.  The first
few months ... it was very difficult for me.  I decided I didn't want
you to know.  So, I simply buried my feelings as far as they could
go."

Harry swallowed, the pause helping him to collect his thoughts.  
"I didn't think there was any reason for you to be confused any
further."  

It was hard for him to talk about this, she saw.  "But you still had
feelings for me after all this time?" 

He looked at her, eyes dark with emotion.  "Yes, Seven.  They've
always been there.  Even though we went through a horrible situation,
I'm thankful in a way that now, I finally have had the opportunity to
tell you .... that I love you."  

"Indeed."  His declaration still managed to surprise her.

He could tell that she was moved by the way her mouth opened slightly,
as if she needed to take a deep breath.

Still, Seven digested his words.  "Still," she continued, "I
was not prepared by your proclamation."

Harry saw that he would have to tread more carefully.  "Didn't the
Doctor ever tell you that he loved you?"

"He had feelings for me.  But, he was unclear how he would be able to
formulate within the entirety of his holomatrix subroutines the
protocols that would properly simulate the necessary pathways denoting
`love', which would subsequently initiate the proper `feelings' within
himself." 

He grinned at her precise explanation.  "I take that as a `no'?"

"Your evaluation is correct."

"Well, what about you?  What were your feelings towards him?"

Seven looked down at their joined hands, finding difficulty in
articulating her emotions.

"Take your time, Seven ..."

"I ... I was comforted by the Doctor's presence.  Our rapport was
unencumbered by human frailties.  We shared common goals and
interests.  We communicated to each other in a direct manner.  He and
I seemed quite compatible."

"But did you love him?"  Harry pushed a little harder to get to the
heart of the matter.

"I do not believe I have gained sufficient experience to elucidate the
emotion.  The Doctor and I are no longer affiliated in this fashion.
Perhaps I am simply unable to experience love.  Perhaps I have failed
and will never be able to ..." 

"No, Seven." Harry interjected.  "That's absolute nonsense and you
know it.  I see the way you treat Naomi.  In your own `maternal' way,
I saw how you were with the Borg children, and how keenly you felt
their loss when they left the ship.  I see it in your eyes when Icheb
is with you.  You know what I think?  I think you're beginning to get
the idea of what love is.  You're already on your way, don't you see?"

"Please explain."

"You obviously have a protective and nurturing nature, especially for
those for whom you share a great deal of affection.  I know you care
deeply about Naomi and Icheb; I think it's very obvious you love them
in your own way.  Personally, I think it's a fantastic start."

"I do ... I ... care for them," Seven admitted, then paused in
recollection.  "Mezoti was fond of you." 

Harry nodded.  "I miss her."

"She mentioned you frequently.  You were always available to lend a
hand or provide guidance without reservation.  I was appreciative of
your efforts in that regard."

"It was no problem at all.  You did a great job with them."

She smiled.  "But I do not have romantic feelings for them."

"No, of course not.  But you understand what their presence in your
life entails.  How much you take part in their development, what you
might feel if they left or got hurt ..." 

"No!  That would be most unacceptable."

"Exactly.  You *are* capable of feeling love.  It isn't romantic love,
of course, but already, you've learned the difference."

"The difference is being able to sense what I am able to achieve when
there is someone who is patient, understanding, and perseveres, and
who is willing to see beyond what is apparent to get through to what
truly lies beneath ..."

Harry swallowed.  "Yes ... that's part of it ..."

"Please, Lieutenant, allow me to finish.  At Unimatrix Zero, I
discovered that Axum and I had a relationship.  Obviously, this was
something rather unusual, because I retained no memories of that
time."  Seven paused, trying to gather her thoughts.

He gave a slight nod in encouragement.

"He tried to convince me that we had shared much in this past life and
that we should try to continue where we last ended.  But, I refused to
comply.  In the end, I thought that I would be able to find him again.
But I've seen that this was an impossible task."

He said nothing and waited for her to continue.
  
"Regardless, it is true I feel great internal conflict about my true
nature, where I'm beginning to grow comfortable with expressing my
feelings, against the backdrop of my Borg training and the inherent 
efficiency found by searching and obtaining the true nature of
perfection.  Nevertheless, the truth I've uncovered is that I desire 
to experience those feelings again."

He continued to approach the conversation from an "academic"
standpoint, which allowed him the luxury of buffering himself against 
what he was really trying to say.  "Then it's no surprise that you
miss feeling that way about someone and that someone who feels the
same way about you."  

Seven smiled.  "You may be right, Lieutenant Kim.  But I want to
return to what you said previously.  You said you were in love with me
and yet, you avoided me.  Please explain to me the incongruity."  

"Like I said before, when you were going through your list of dating
candidates, I accepted the fact that I hadn't been on your list."

"That is because you had just recovered from your experience with
Derran Tal.  I saw that you were deliberately foregoing treatment in
lieu of suffering over a much longer timescale.  I drew the conclusion
that your encounter had not been merely a momentary lapse of reason,
that you had shared something deeply with the Varro female, and that
you had subsequently felt great loss."

At the mention of Tal, Harry looked away, removing his hand from
hers.  Seven felt a tight uncomfortable sensation across her lower
abdomen.  It was particularly telling that his retreat had affected
her so.   

"You're right on all counts," Harry replied.  He paused as something
occurred to him.  "Did you think that I would not want to be a
candidate?" 

"That is correct.  Your bond with the Varro female had been strong.  I
had not wished to cause further damage to you."

His elbows on the table, Harry leaned forward, supporting his chin on
top of his folded hands.  "The timing *would* have been `hilarious',
if I could bring myself to laugh about it." 

"I fail to see the humor, Lieutenant."

"I was being sarcastic.  I just meant that after all this time to
think that I could have been a candidate, had I not met Derran Tal.
Is that about right?"

"You are correct."

"Great ..." Harry mumbled to himself.  He closed his eyes, bringing
his hands up over and covering his face. 

"What is wrong?  Are you all right?"

Harry ignored her concern and glanced aside at Seven.  "And shortly
thereafter, you began an affiliation with the Doctor."

Seven nodded.

He turned his face away from her.  "That's when I started to avoid
you." 

"I do not understand."

"Don't forget that much of the subsequent intimacy I shared with Tal
had primarily been biochemical in nature.  That is, I was attracted to
her, of course, but she and I both jumped into sexual relations
without any serious regard or consideration to both of our peoples.
It's still difficult for me to separate what I thought were real
feelings from the effects of my altered biochemistry.  Regardless, I
am still at fault for my actions.  What I'm saying is that once my
withdrawal symptoms had passed, I discovered that my feelings for you
had remained strong as ever.  I just didn't know how I would express
them to you without my thinking of the possibility that I would harm
the relationship we had.  I thought we worked well together and, at
the very least, you'd been tolerant of me and my conversation."

"Lieutenant, I ..."

"Once you had begun the process of learning more about dating and the
idea of romantic love and had gone on to choose the Doctor, I was
simply too late.  When I looked at you two together, I felt I had
lost ... and I felt shame.  Initially, I chose not to let my feelings
get in the way.  But I miscalculated, as my life spiraled down into
darkness.  It was a cold and lonely place to be." 

"Why did you not seek me out when I terminated my affiliation with
the Doctor?"

"I thought you needed time to assimilate your feelings and your
experiences.  So you could properly evaluate for yourself the meaning
... the purpose ... the necessity for us to have these emotions.
Things that are supposed to make us human."

"Strange," Seven replied.  "I had not considered this.  Your insights
are meritable."  And you should have looked for me, she didn't add.

"The absolute irony was that while more of your humanity was emerging
with each passing day, I could feel myself becoming more detached from
my own."

"Indeed, I have given a great deal of thought to the apparent
dichotomy.  I had wished to express my concern about how you were
progressing." 

"That's what Naomi said, too."

"When did she confer with you?"

"When we recovered her, I had a little talk with her.  She told me
that you missed me."

"Indeed?" Her voice had plummeted to a whisper, having found that
their conversation had crossed into dangerous territory.

"Imagine my surprise," Harry continued, "when I tried to reconcile the
woman who asked me once to copulate with her, who told me I wasn't her
candidate ..."

"I have changed ... apparently, so have you," Seven replied
carefully. 

Harry closed his eyes.  "I had to be careful, Seven.  This is a very
small ship."

"You don't have to be alone anymore."

His eyes opened to the sight of her - her eyes, blue, wide, and
luminous, so liquid with emotion.  And it was all about him.

"Neither do you, Seven," he replied.

"Perhaps we can begin again." 

"That's a good idea." Harry turned in his seat to fully face her.
"Hello, my name is Lieutenant Harry Kim."  

A small smile appeared on her face in understanding.  "I am Seven of
Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One.  But you may call me
Seven."  

The circle would have been complete, if it had been Janeway to whom
Seven's original introduction was made.

While she missed the sense of true belonging in the great vastness
of the Collective, she had slowly come to believe one thing.  Seven 
preferred this feeling of smallness and individuality, however
frightening, to the extent of all the advances she had made and
discovered for herself since her arrival on board this ship.  And as
she looked up to the man sitting next to her, she was grateful for his
presence, which had always been a reminder that she had never really
been alone in the first place. 

She reached out with her hand.

"And you may call me Harry."  They shook hands.

"I am pleased to meet you, Harry."

They continued to hold hands, their touch now less formal and more
intimate. 

"I assure you the pleasure is all mine, Seven."

Seven felt very warm and could feel the blush in her cheeks with the
way he was looking at her now.  "Indeed.  I ... "

She looked down at their joined hands.  He loosened his grip and
she was about to remove her hand, until his fingers stilled her
motion.  He wrapped his fingers around hers, holding and caressing
them. 

She marvelled at the way his fingers seemed to memorize the feel and
contours of her fingers and her hand with his delicate touch.  
"I am ... ," as Seven struggled to give voice to her emotions.  "I am 
pleased ... that you are here with me." 

A small grin marked the corner of Harry's mouth.

They continued to talk, catching up over the last few months.
A friendship gone astray had been found and reestablished itself with
brand new parameters, stretching into new regions of phase space.  

They continued to share details of their lives over the next two
hours.  Neither Harry or Seven felt tired or a need to regenerate.
Rather, both had simply been unwilling to separate from the other's
presence.

It was past 0630.  Neelix and a few members of Alpha shift had already
wandered into the Mess Hall, preparing to start the day with
breakfast.  Every person who had walked into the room was surprised by
the sight of the quiet but amiable conversation between Harry Kim and
Seven of Nine.  

By 0720, Lieutenants Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres Paris made their
way into the Mess Hall.

B'Elanna ran into her husband's back as Tom stopped immediately in his
tracks. 

"Holy ... B'Elanna, tell me I'm not dreaming.  Is that our Harry Kim
talking to Seven of Nine?"

She looked around him to confirm what her husband was saying.  "No
... you're not dreaming.  But I must be.  I can't believe it."

"What do you think they're talking about?" Tom asked.

"I don't know.  They look like they're in deep conversation.  For just
a moment, I was thinking we should join them, but by the looks of it,
I don't really think we should disturb them."

"Do you think our advice to Seven helped?"

"I hope so, Tom."

"B'Elanna, I think it's looking a little crowded in here.  I don't
think Harry should see us; it might make him uncomfortable.  Why don't
we eat in our quarters?" 

B'Elanna nodded in agreement.  "All right."  As they exited and
the doors to the Mess Hall closed, she continued.  "And this time,
I'd like to replicate some banana pancakes ..."

"Where do we go from here?" asked Seven.

"I don't have all the answers," Harry replied.  "Why don't we just
take it slow and easy, one day at a time?  There's a lot we need to
process.  

"This is agreeable."

"As I'm sure you'll also agree that we still have some ground to
cover."  Finally, he tore his eyes away from Seven and looked around. 
Suddenly, Harry realized that there was a great deal more activity
than he last remembered.

"Seven, what time is it?"

"It is oh-seven-twenty."

"We've been here for hours," Harry realized.  "And my shift starts in
forty minutes."

"I am now feeling ... fatigued," Seven replied.  "I will return to my
alcove to reattempt yet another regeneration cycle.  I believe that I
will successfully regenerate."  

Watching in fascination as his fingers continued to play with hers,
she braved the sudden flutter in her stomach.  "I would like to see
you again after your shift is completed.  Will you be sufficiently
alert at that time?" 

He paused to consider what she was saying.  "Seven, are you asking me
out on a date?" 

"No," she replied a little too quickly.  Recovering, she added.
"Not yet.  I simply wish to continue to spend time with a friend."

Harry smiled at the statement of hope she'd had just given him and
for her admission that she wanted to spend time with him.

"I would love to see you later.  I'll be sure to drink a lot of
coffee to stay awake, though if I'm smart, your company alone should
be sufficient to keep me alert." 

Seven smirked.  "I am sure the Captain can offer some assistance on a
choice of an appropriately caffeinated beverage."

"Yes," Harry grinned, "we all know how much she loves her coffee."

They rose from their seats.

"I will see you at 1800 hours then," Seven said.  "Where shall we
meet?"

Harry thought about it for a moment.  "How about right here in the
Mess Hall?  It's rather like neutral territory for the both of us,
don't you agree?"

"Agreed.  But will you not be concerned with the increased level of
gossip our next meeting during dinner hours will generate?"

"Actually," Harry replied, "I really don't care what people are going
to say.  They've been talking about us for years and I'm sure that's
not going to stop.  What's important is that you and I have gotten
back to a certain footing in our relationship ... as friends."  He
paused.  "But thanks for the consideration."

"I will `consider' you from now until 1800, in which time I expect my
efficiency to drop by seven-point-two percent."  She said this with
complete seriousness, save for the sparkle in her eyes. 

"That much, huh?  Well, I'm definitely looking forward to seeing you
again tonight, Seven."

A small smile appeared on Seven's face.  "A good day to you,
Lieu ... Harry."

"See you later tonight, Seven ... sweet dreams."

Seven began to walk away before she turned and looked at him, a
beatific smile on her face, propelling them both to the memory on
the Dauntless.

Now, *that* did seem like yesterday, Harry thought.  He watched Seven
walk out of the Mess Hall. 

"Good morning, Harry."

He turned to the person who'd just greeted him.  "Good morning,
Neelix."

"How long were you two here?  I came in at 0615 and saw that you two
were in animated conversation.  I didn't want to disturb you, though."

"I appreciate that, Neelix.  I think we've been here for over three
hours.  We had a good talk."

"That's great, Harry!  I'm glad to see you getting along once again.
And may I say, it's been a long time since I've seen you look so 
content."

Harry smiled at that.  "Thanks, Neelix."

"You must be hungry.  Is there anything you'd like for breakfast?"

The doughnut had long been consumed.  Neelix's question had suddenly
resulted in a loud audible growl from Harry's stomach.

"I think ...," Harry replied with embarrassment. "I'll have whatever 
you've got on the grill this morning ... except anything to do
with leola root."

"We've got some eggs that we picked up on Stolgath and ... Octasidan
starch root patties.  I believe it's something close to what Tom
called `hash browns.'"

Oh well, Harry thought.  If Tom could think of an appropriate Earth
analogy, then it must be all right.

"I'll have two scrambled eggs and three patties."

"Coming right up ..."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Two weeks later, Harry had again been assigned "graveyard" bridge duty
with the junior staff.  But he wanted to speak with Seven before she
called it a night. 

"Computer, locate Seven of Nine."

::: Seven of Nine is in Cargo Bay Two. :::

"Is she undergoing her regeneration cycle?"

::: Negative. :::

He tapped the commbadge on his grey t-shirt.

"Kim to Seven of Nine."

[ Seven of Nine.  How may I be of assistance, Lieutenant Kim? ]

"Seven, could you come to my quarters?  I'd like to talk to you
before I begin Gamma shift on the Bridge."

[ I will be there shortly.  Seven, out. ]

Harry smiled softly.  Once, she would have deferred a conversation
at such a late hour to the following day, because as she once
told him, "... rest was a necessary component to the daily regimen of 
every person on board."  

Only Seven of Nine can make a description of the necessity of sleep
so "inviting," he thought.

The chime to his quarters sounded.

"Please come in."

Grinning, Harry turned around to find Tom Paris had walked through
the doors.

"Hi, Harry."  Tom saw the grin on Harry's face disappear.  
"Happy to see me?"

"You aren't the person I was expecting," Harry recovered.

Tom made a face.  "I think I'm hurt."

"You *think* you're hurt?  Or you *are* hurt?" Harry jibed.

Ignoring the verbal jabs, Tom inquired.  "So ... buddy ... who is 
this special someone that you're expecting?" 

"It's just Seven," Harry answered casually.  He turned to his
personal console to pick up a PADD before returning to face his
friend.  

"Hey, you two have been seeing a lot of each other lately."

"I see that the rumor mill continues to roll along nicely at its usual
breakneck warp speed."

"C'mon, Harry, spill."

"I just need to talk to her before I head off to the Bridge." 

"Oh yes, that's right," Tom replied, folding his arms.  "Living the
life of the Big Chair and impressing the young minds of the junior
Bridge staff.  So, has Marin Jenkins asked you out yet?" 

Harry's face fell at the mention of the young woman.  "No, but I think
she just might tonight." 

"Is that why you're talking to Seven before you start your shift?" 
Tom teased.  "Trying to remain faithful to your woman?  Let me
summarize the score sheet now, okay?"  He tapped the fingers on his
hand for full effect.  "A hologram; an ex-Borg the first time; the
wrong twin; the deceased; a former outcast of the Equinox, from what 
B'Elanna tells me; and now, you're considering a second go at the same 
ex-Borg.  Does that sound about right?" 

"You know, I hate it when you do that.  No, I just wanted to talk to
Seven, because we've been talking frequently during the last couple of
weeks and it almost seems like we're back on familiar ground."

Tom nodded in assent.  "I feel the same way, Harry."  

Harry was puzzled.  "What do you mean?"

"B'Elanna and I were very happy you were able to come over last night
for dinner.  The three of us haven't talked like that in a very long
time.  I just wanted to come by and say that I'd like for the three of
us to spend time like that more regularly.  We missed you and you're
still someone who means a lot to the both of us."

"I'm grateful for that, Tom.  I'm sure we can fit something within our
schedules."  Harry paused in thought before continuing.  "I have to
admit that talking to Seven helps me to put things `right' when Marin
is basically falling over me."

"Wait, you're telling me that you're uncomfortable with Marin heaping
all this attention on you?  Isn't that supposed to be the point?  Have
you learned *nothing* from my pain?"

"Whatever, Tom.  Hey, why do you care about this so much?"

"Harry," Tom said defensively.  "I'm a married man with two beautiful
children.  Besides, I'm supposed to live vicariously through your
relationships with attractive single women." 

"Great," Harry replied sarcastically.

"Not that there's any pressure ..."

"No, none at all ..."

"What are you going to tell Marin if she asks?" Tom asked.

"I'm going to tell her no," Harry said firmly.

Tom waited a beat before he asked.  "Buddy, what *is* it with you and
beautiful Borg drones?" 

Harry was ready with his retort until the doorchime sounded a second
time. 

"Come on in, Seven," Harry replied to a smirking Tom.

Harry watched Seven walk through the open doors.

"Lieutenant Kim, Lieutenant Paris."  She greeted them both neutrally
before looking at Harry.  Harry didn't blink or look away at her
steady gaze.

"Ahem, well ...," Tom inserted, feeling a rarity for once as the third
wheel.  "I've got to be heading back.  I'm a dead man if I'm not back
to change Rachel's diapers."

"I am sure Lieutenant Torres will not terminate your life." Seven
replied dryly.  "However, she may choose to break your leg instead."

Harry laughed.

"Harry, don't encourage her."  Tom looked nonplussed before he
chuckled.  "I'll see you both later.  Have a good shift, Harry, and 
be sure to keep your shields up with Marin ..." 

I *really* hate it when he does that, Harry thought, because it
always gets me into trouble.

"Marin Jenkins?" Seven asked, as the doors behind her closed with
Tom's departure.  She walked another two steps towards him.  "What
is the meaning of Lieutenant Paris' statement?"

Yup, trouble with a capital T.

"I told Tom that Marin has been trying to make a move on me.  I think
she's going to ask me out on a date."

"Should I be concerned?"

"No, Seven, I'm going to tell her no.  I'm not interested in her."

Immediately, the calm composed look on her face melted away.  There!
he thought, as a much softer look to her had returned.  She looked at
him with equal parts relief and affection. 

They sat on his couch in the living room.  They talked about the last
week, about how the nightmares were slowly dissipating, and how their
frequent conversations were likely the source of the ease for their
respective regeneration cycles.  They also began to speak freely about
their feelings - about their lives in general and about feelings
specifically reserved for each other. 

"I believe I am beginning to understand."

"What's that, Seven?"  Harry smiled.

"I was appreciative of the time I had spent with the Doctor, but I
realize that I viewed him as my mentor and as a friend - nothing
more.  The relative absence of his presence has not been
disadvantageous, a distraction, or damaging to me."

Now she looked pointedly at him, her eyes cool and direct, ensuring
no ambiguity.  "However, I noted greatly with disaffection the absence
of *your* presence." 

His smile disappeared.  Whoa, he thought.  A little bit of that
old-time Harry resurfaced - the one who was easily set into dead
silence. 

"I've missed you, Harry Kim.  What - do I have to spell it out for
you?"

"Seven ..."  Harry looked at her in disbelief.  "Where the hell did
you learn that expression?" 

A quirk of a smile appeared on the corner of her lips.  "As I
indicated earlier, I have benefited from my time with Lieutenants
Paris and Torres."

"That's great ... it's what I really need - Tom Paris giving
lessons on old Earth vernacular to a former Borg drone."

"I believe your sarcasm actually belies the humor and affection you
have for your friends."

"You are absolutely correct," Harry replied.  "Seven, I'm just not
used to you talking to me this way."  He chuckled.  "I missed you as
well." 

"Pardon me, but I recall that you had expressed something more than
merely `missing' me."

"No, Seven, we don't have to talk about that if you're uncomfortable
with it."  Harry had the sudden urge to flee the room and began to
rise. 

"Harry ..." She reached out to grasp his arm, pinning him to the
couch.  Her eyes wore a determined look, compelling him to take 
notice.  To untrained ears, the next words out of her mouth were 
articulated in a low monotone.  To Harry, her voice had taken on
a new level of intimacy, deep with meaning and tenderness.

"You can trust me."

Just four words, Harry thought.  But from Seven, they meant the world
to him.  He sat back down with her hand up on his arm.  She had
loosened her grip on him, but he noticed that her hand was squeezing
his arm ever so slightly.  If he hadn't known any better, she was
enjoying the contact.

"I insist that you tell me," Seven continued.  "From what I can tell
by your reaction, it is you who is uncomfortable.  However, I believe 
that it is only correct that I respond in an appropriate manner."  She
started to shuffle towards him.

Reluctantly, Harry replied.  "What's that?"

"This ..."  Seven leaned well within his personal space, as she
brought her hands up to hold his face.  

The touch of her hands on his face was beyond what he'd ever imagined. 
His eyes opened wide, his mouth open in fascination at the woman who
was now mere inches from him.  

He never would have believed that such a profound event like this
would ever happen.  Perhaps, he had simply refused to allow himself
the luxury of the hope or the possibility.  

Seven gazed at him, her eyes wandering up and down his face; studying
the lines, the shape of his nose, his lips.  Sufficiently satisfied
with her visual examination, she leaned forward for a kiss.
Instinctively, she closed her eyes, letting contact dictate her 
actions.   

Now, it had become truth - instead of the usual cold, hard facts, the
truth had come in the form of this warm, soft woman, whose affections
had clearly been focussed on him.  To further test in his mind the
shape and the warmth of her body, he reached around to wrap her in
his arms, holding her tight, as they deepened their kiss.  Gradually,
their mouths opened and their hearts soared with the dance of their
tongues ... and the fires began to burn brighter, stoked by need and
their passion play. 

She separated from their kiss to return her gaze on him.

"A very appropriate reaction," Harry replied, his body shaking from
their kiss.  He wet his lips, tasting her there. "I see that your
social lessons with the Doctor have been very productive." 

"No, that's not it.  My action resulted from an intense emotion I
felt, one which only occurs when you are in my proximity."

"Glad to hear it, Seven."

"Moreover, I also felt compelled to kiss you.  Do you approve?"

"Approve?  You don't know me very well, do you?"  The challenging 
tone in his voice contradicted the wide smile on Harry's face. 

Seven replied with a soft smile of her own.  "I do not.  It is my
wish, therefore, to engage in activities to remedy the situation." 

"Oh?  What kind of activities did you have in mind?"

"I am positive we can think of one or two ..." Seven answered slyly.

With feigned innocence, Harry offered.  "Spending time together in my
quarters ... your quarters, perhaps?   We could spend time in the
Holodeck ... future shore leave together ..."

"Those activities are perfectly acceptable ... in addition to what I
have in mind." 

"And what exactly do you have in mind?"

She leaned closer and whispered provocatively into his ear.

His eyes couldn't have bulged any larger.

Damn, he thought.  He never would've thought that her imagination
could be so ... erotic ... 

She rose from his couch and walked to the door.  She turned, looking
at him in askance over her left shoulder. 

"See you later, Harry," she said with a hint of seduction.  
The absolute clincher was the lascivious wink of her left eye.

Before he could respond, Seven turned and walked out of his quarters.

He knew her revelations would supply fuel to torrid fantasies, which
would plague his dreams pleasurably for the next few days.  

Oh, I'll definitely see you later, he thought.

He walked uncomfortably into the bathroom, ready than ever for a cold
shower.  It was that or walking around the Bridge with the young
bridge staff getting a damn good look at an apparent hydrospanner
stuffed down his pants.  Poor Marin: she'd never recover from the
thrill of that sight ... 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

In the subsequent months before their safe return to the Alpha
Quadrant, another couple was added to the ranks of the paired, 
aboard what Harry now euphemistically called "Janeway's Ark."

Once, Tom and B'Elanna had the distinct reputation for their acts of
physical love, whose acts had not been limited to their quarters or
any number of Jeffries Tubes.  In addition to their individual medical
files, the EMH had to keep a separate file on Tom and B'Elanna, which
was logged as "the Paris couple" for their "physical vigor."

But family life and raising two rambunctious children had put the
Paris' reputations on hold, if not upon the shelves.  It was the
classic age-old story of family life. 

Harry and Seven started their own reputation in very short time.
It was especially unfortunate for the crew whose quarters were
adjacent to Harry's and Seven's separate quarters.  Eventually, an
informal petition was circulated to have them move into their own
quarters, so that only one section of a deck would be inconvenienced
by their "activities."  

The irony wasn't lost on the Doctor, as Harry and Seven had
essentially taken the unofficial mantle of "liveliness" away from Tom
and B'Elanna.  Not that the Parises had minded ... 

Just recently, while Harry and Seven had been in Sickbay for minor
cuts and bruises over their latest round of foreplay, "sexual verve,"
Seven had declared aloud, "was a fascinating venture."  Harry laughed,
while the Doctor simply rolled his eyes.  The EMH complained to
Janeway: he was a doctor, not some damn referee.  Janeway kept the
humor to herself, as her own activities with Chakotay sometimes
reached "new heights of spirituality."  No, she would leave it well
alone; everyone deserved their own slice of well-deserved happiness.
In any case, the Doctor immediately began a new file on "the K/7
couple." 

All that wasted time, Harry and Seven would say to each other, no 
longer had any place in their lives.  Instead, with a renewal filled 
with purpose, they devoted everything of themselves to each other. 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

EPILOGUE:

"Once Harry Kim had finally awakened to what lay before him, he and I
chose to pursue our destinies together with a fervor that bordered on
reckless abandon.  By some crew accounts, we had even given Paris and
Torres a run for their money.  But what a momentous journey we'd
undertake before we finally reached Earth - I had completely immersed
myself in the joys and sorrows of being a human being.  We taught each
other what it was finally to surrender ourselves to each other.  I
hadn't completely forgotten about my Borg `education'; instead, I
found that the quintessential human emotion of love could be a far
more efficient motivator.  That statement alone tends to conjure more
negative connotations, but I assured Harry that love and trust were
powerful and strong in their own right and that they had invoked the
strongest and most positive of motivations within me.  I promised
myself I would not fail him or us."  

		     -- Dr. Annika Hansen Kim, Design Engineer, 
			Fleet and Propulsion Design, Utopia Planitia,  
			"Living Borg Among Humans", 2385

"When it boiled down to the fine details, a former member of the Borg
collective would help me find what I had once lost.  In the process, I
found my own way back to humanity.  Out of my madness came love and
forgiveness in the form of an ex-drone, who had learned about
individuality and her place within a community of individuals, and who
had reintegrated herself as a functional and valuable member of that
very same community.  In the process, she had transformed herself into 
an intelligent, beautiful, compassionate, and generous woman.  The 
simple truth, however, was that Seven of Nine saved me.  I'd like to 
believe that we found our way back to each other, into the realm and 
full reach of possibilities, where we were finally able to love each 
other without reservation or regret.  What finally emerged had been a
miracle: not because we had finally gotten together, but rather that
the strength of our relationship surpassed anything I had ever
experienced.  The power of our union was simply unbreakable." 

                -- Capt. Harry Kim, U.S.S. Carina (Sovereign Class), 
	           "A Merging of Minds", 2387

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Saturday, March 15th, 2387
San Francisco, Terra (Earth)
1809h OET-PacWest (Old Earth Time - Pacific/West)

Stardate 64202.8

Harry terminated his latest entry into a PADD.  It was a book he'd been 
writing for the last couple of months.  He had arranged for shore
leave to spend some time with his wife.  They had been back on Earth 
for about a month, visiting their respective families and friends.
They had just seen Tom, B'Elanna, and their "brood" of four children.
Harry chuckled to himself at the thought of his two friends, raising a
family composed of future hell-raisers who flew high and wide at warp
speeds, and miracle workers who could engineer an EPS conduit out of a
hydrospanner and a rubber band. 

Harry's wife was in their bedroom, humming and singing softly, while
she was packing their suitcase with the last of their clothing they
would need for their vacation on planet Risa.   

To commit to a real vacation and ..., he thought.  Thanks to Tom,
Harry finished his thought, recalling the memory of old Earth
vernacular. 

And make sweet love until the cows come home ...

He put down the PADD on which he'd been working and picked up another
PADD.  Feeling a little nostalgic, he brought up a summary of events
from the last few years, which had passed at a breathtaking pace.

[begin summary log - Captain Harry Kim, U.S.S. Carina]

2380 Mar. 5	Voyager's former senior staff and members of the crew
		give testimony to Federation Council about the status
		of Seven of Nine and the EMH.  After great
		deliberation, the Council is quick with their
		decision: both parties are recognized as free
		Federation citizens with full rights.

     Mar. 14	Based upon lengthy service, Harry Kim is summarily
		promoted to Lieutenant-Commander (retroactive) and the
		new rank of Commander.  

     Mar. 19	Seven of Nine meets surviving members of the Hansen
		family.  To become more efficient in the ways of
		humanity, she reverts to her original designation
		Annika Hansen.  She begins to spend time with
		Cmdr. Kim's family for "smooth" assimilation into
		human society.

     Apr. 4	Cmdr. Kim is sent to serve as X.O. on the
		Intrepid-Class U.S.S. Doradus under Capt. Mark
		Espinosa. 

     Apr. 8	Annika Hansen formally begins studies towards a
		dissertation in	the field of quantum temporal
		mechanics. 

     Jun. 15	With Annika's help, the EMH establishes effort to
		revive and reprogram Mark I EMHs for "limited
		extended" capacity to start and, subsequently, for
		rapid ramp-up to expanded capacity in a planned 
		schedule over the next four to six weeks.

2381 Jun. 24	Cmdr. Kim takes command, when Espinosa and twenty
		others die in battle while supporting Vulcans and
		Romulans during Breen-Romulan conflict at Remus.  At
		great risk to ship, Cmdr. Kim and the crew of the
		Carina save Remus.  A Federation (hereafter, UFP)
		convoy arrives to escort remaining Breen back to their
		territory.  Romulus and Vulcan immediately begin
		"co-operative" negotiations, leading up to the
		possibility of reunification. 	UFP is on board for
		talks two weeks later with Cmdr. Kim as one of the
		command representatives.  Under a program of
		"extraordinary exchange," Cmdr. Kim serves as "UFP
		observer" for four weeks on board Romulan
		D'Deridex-class ship Nalreth.

     Aug. 2	By order of Starfleet, Cmdr. Kim is officially
		promoted to Captain and retains command of
		U.S.S. Doradus.  

2382 Feb. 4	Annika Hansen receives Ph.D. in quantum temporal
		mechanics and astronomy.  Her dissertation title is: 
		"Assigning Path Integrals To Complete Histories Within
		Quantum Gravimetric Transitions - Reconciling Theory
		With Observations of Temporal Anomalies in the Galaxy."
		Under protest and with reluctant permission from UFP
		command, Capt. Kim returns to Earth for 36 hours'
		leave to attend Hansen's thesis defense.

     Feb. 8	Dr. Hansen is immediately recruited into Fleet
		Design and Construction at Utopia Planitia.  She
		begins work after corrections and the final submission
		of her thesis.  
		
     Jun. 10	Capt. Kim is offered command of U.S.S. Carina, one of
		the first in the Sovereign Class, under construction
		at Utopia Planitia.  Dr. Hansen has contributing
		role to the design and construction of the Carina.

2383 Dec. 18	Capt. Kim is transferred to Utopia Planitia to
		supervise final preparations for maiden voyage of the
		Carina. 

2384 Feb. 2	Capt. Kim and his crew launch U.S.S. Carina on its
		maiden voyage.  His crew includes two familiar faces
		from Voyager: Lt. (j.g.) Marla Gilmore Fenwick and
		Lt. (j.g.) Noah Lessing, both of whom he promptly
		promotes to the rank of full Lieutenant before launch. 

2385 Apr. 8	The Carina leads major Starfleet task force in aiding
		Romulans seal sudden eruptions appearing in the
		space-time continuum in a number of sectors under
		Romulan jurisdiction.  Their singularity power sources
		are to blame; modifications begin in earnest to their
		propulsion design.

     Jul. 10	With permission, Capt. Kim returns to Earth on a
		"personal matter of utmost importance."  Two days
		later, Capt. Kim and Dr. Hansen are engaged to wed.

2386 Aug. 16	Capt. Harry Kim, 37, and Dr. Annika Hansen, 37, hold
		their wedding ceremony on the beach at Royal Kona
		Resort, Kailua, Hawaii.  In attendance: Rear Admiral 
		Kathryn Janeway, Ambassador Chakotay, Amb. Tuvok,
		Capt. Tom Paris (U.S.S. Alioth), Cmdr. B'Elanna Torres
		Paris (Alioth), Cadet Naomi Wildman, Lt. Cmdr.
		Samantha Wildman (U.S.S. Nereid), Lt. Cmdr. Marla
		Gilmore Fenwick (Alioth), Lt. Cmdr. Noah Lessing, and
		family members. 

		Two weeks later, Capt. Kim resumes active duty and
		returns to U.S.S. Carina, while Dr. Hansen returns 
		to Utopia Planitia.

2387 Mar. 11	Capt. Kim returns to Earth to meet with high officials
		including now-promoted Admiral Janeway, engineers, and
		scientists at UFP headquarters in San Francisco. 

[end summary - Captain Harry Kim, U.S.S. Carina.]

Harry smiled.  

A lot of good had happened to him and his wife.

Listening to his wife sing always made him feel invited and comforted;
it always made him fall in love with her all over again.  He stepped
up to the window, looking out towards the bay and the Golden Gate
Bridge.  It was an ancient structure by 24th-century standards, but it
evoked a kind of romantic feel to the surroundings.  Looking west
through the Bay and out into the near reaches of the Pacific Ocean,
the sun had begun to set, alighting the sky with fire.  The voice from
the adjoining room had warmed him head to toe.

He closed his eyes, absorbing the memory of sight and sound, allowing
the full brunt of the emotion to wash over him.

Harry placed the PADDs into his daybag, which was placed onto a small
table in the atrium to their temporary quarters.  He walked the short
distance back to the bedroom door.

Apparently, she hadn't heard him, because she had continued to fold
clothes, facing the bed and away from the door.  So, she hadn't noticed
his entrance.  Her hips swayed slightly to the song she was singing. 

Such a human ... a womanly thing to do, he thought amusedly.

He lived for these infrequent moments, where he could simply watch her.

Her hair was shorter now.  She didn't have to tie her hair up in a
bun, like it'd been once back in the Voyager days.  She had realized
that he had a certain "opinion" about being able to run his hands
through her hair.  So, the hair was kept to an appropriate and 
sufficient length, just so that both she and Harry could reciprocate
to their respective pleasures.

Her implants had remained just as they had expected.  They were
necessary for her life functions and it had been simpler just to let
them be.  Besides, Harry had always found them to be "alluring."

He recognized the song ... "oh my darling Clementine" ... he had
remembered the story she had once told him.  It had been a frightening
time for Seven, who'd been held captive on board the "Equinox."  She
had been defiant and unwilling to yield to the very end, but she had
feared that she would die alone.  It'd been such a dark experience,
but the memory of the song had remained.  Shortly upon her return, she
and the Doctor had spent some time in the Holodeck, working out the
melody, practicing the use of her voice.

Such a beautiful lilt and quality to her voice - such perfection,
Harry thought.  I owe you, Doc; among so many things, thanks for
bringing her voice to life.

He snuck up from behind and held her close to his body.  His arms
enveloped her waist, as he leaned in to breathe softly into her 
right ear.

"You know ... if no one's ever told you ..."

Smiling, she tilted her head at hearing her husband's voice.  She
turned completely around in his arms to face him and tilted her head
in a manner so familiar, what was once a truly signature look from
a former drone of the Collective.  The strength of this memory still
had the power to startle him, this time into stunned silence.  

Harry closed in and held her, bringing his hands around her waist.
Always pleased with his touch and embrace, Annika Kim brought her arms
up and around his shoulders, linking her hands around his neck.  She
knew he was grasping for words and waited for him to continue.   

" ... that you have a lovely voice."  

The Doctor had once told her as much, but it had sounded so much
better coming from her husband.

At her look of surprise and pleasure, he continued.

"Hearing your voice more often might've saved me from a little pain,"
Harry noted with a hint of irony.  He looked away from her a little
embarrassed, even as a small smile graced his lips. 

"Harry ..."  With a slight warning, her voice took on a gentle
scolding tone.  She knew that he would slip easily into a funk with
practiced ease, but believed now that her husband had only been
reminiscing. 

Harry looked warmly at his wife.  There were times where he had great
difficulty wrapping his brain or his heart around the incredible fact
that they had become their own little collective, one upon which they
had agreed and into which they had jumped full force. 

No longer an inefficient waste of time or an irrelevant facet of
humanity, time had served her lessons in humanity well.  Harry
found that the dividends in return had been met with great
satisfaction by both parties.

Now, *she* was taking to calling him "honey."  She would always
continue to surprise him.  And he would always feel humility with
the sole privilege of bearing witness to new insights to her humanity
- always in flux and in growth. 

And "honey" was such sweetness to come out of her mouth, he thought.
Now, he was going to test just how sweet she was.

He leaned in and kissed her.  Not content with a short peck, he moved
and pressed, hot and urgent, tasting the essence of her mouth and
savoring the texture of her lips.

Yes, he thought, she tasted very sweet.

Annika broke the kiss, separating their mouths by mere inches.  Her
fingers were on his lips, her eyes locked onto the target of her 
touch.  Unconsciously, her tongue snaked out of her mouth, wetting her
upper lip in a sensuous sweep.  

She's tasting me on her lips, Harry thought in amazement, feeling the
sudden and heady rush of arousal.

He looked at her lips, fascinated as always by how swollen they looked
after they'd kissed.  

He couldn't help it.  Harry raised his right hand and touched her
lower lip. 

Annika gazed deeply into her husband's eyes.  She dipped her head
fractionally and took his index finger into her mouth.  

And sucked on his finger.  Slowly, ... in ... and ... out.

Their eyes locked, the sounds providing aural stimulation to
the oral, with a promise of other delights to come.

Whoa, Harry thought.  All of his systems were on very, very high
alert. 

Reliving a memory all those years ago in a Cargo Bay on board Voyager,
Harry evoked what had been said that day in sadness.  Fortunately,
much had happened and, ultimately to their great relief, the days were
so much happier. 

"Has anyone told you lately that you are an incredibly beautiful
woman?"

"Yes, you did.  Eleven hours, fifty-five minutes ago, to be precise.
But I do not tire of hearing you say it."  

Annika took his right hand in both of hers, holding him steady.  She
continued to lave gently and carefully along the entire length of his
index finger, her eyes maintaining an unmistakably carnal lock with his.

Surprise, surprise, surprise ...  

"I didn't think so," Harry replied.  "Have I also mentioned that you
are so very sexy?"  Added to the fact that her eyes hadn't left his
throughout her oral ministrations, this was one of the most sensual
things he'd ever experienced.  

"Not in the past week, as I recall," Annika smirked in reply.

She looked supremely content by her husband's admission, even though
he would compliment her frequently in similar fashion.  She dropped
her husband's hand and moved in to seal his compliment with a kiss,
her luminous eyes betraying deep desire.

Harry raised his hand and placed his fingers firmly across her lips.  
Annika's brows furrowed slightly in confusion by his action.

"Wait, Annika, I want to tell you something." 

"What is it, Harry?"  She relinked her hands around his neck.

His hands had moved down, enveloping her waist.  He squeezed her a
little, in anticipation of what he was about to say.

"I've got good news for us.  I've been offered to lead a key project,
which will involve my time back here on Earth.  I'm pretty happy about
this, because quite frankly, I'm getting tired of gallivanting around
the galaxy."  

"Are you sure?  You've only had the Carina for three years."

"It doesn't matter as much as I thought it would.  Look, even though
we've only been married for months, I know we're committed to each
other.  But I just don't want to spend any more time apart.  I think
you feel the same way, too."

Annika nodded in agreement.  "Yes, I concur.  I too grow weary with
the absence of your presence.  But we have become successful in our
own respective careers." 

"I know.  I'm not asking you to give that up, which is why I talked
to Janeway to call in a favor."

"Oh?"  She was touched by his consideration, but she was interested in
discovering what her husband had in mind.  "How is the Admiral doing?"

"The usual.  Feeling chafed at being stuck to a desk, but finding
rewards at being stern and teaching the disciplined ways of the
Federation, and enlightening the minds of a new crop of kids at the
Academy.  In other words, she'll be regaling them with `Adventures in
the Delta Quadrant,' Janeway style.  By the way, our presence is also
requested for dinner at her place when we return from Risa."

Annika smiled at the future prospect of catching up with the woman who
had made the decision to separate Seven of Nine from the Borg
Collective.  

How quickly the years have passed, she thought.  

"Noted," she replied.  "It will be good to see the Admiral and
Ambassador Chakotay.  Please go on, Harry." 

"Okay, I asked about a transfer back to this sector, at least
something that would keep me within a distance of a light-day or at
most a light-week.  You know, it might even be fun to be involved 
in some kind of project with Tom and B'Elanna."

At the mention of their friends, she smiled, but something else was
tugging at her mind.  He was holding something back.  

"Harry, what are you not telling me?

"I could never hide things from you." She smiled at that, recalling
how B'Elanna had once described Harry's ready demeanor as "an open
book."

Harry continued.  "The entirety of your knowledge with your time in
the Collective and the sum of our experiences in the Delta Quadrant
should be quite useful for what's in store.  Annika, you and I have
been asked to lead a feasibility project to explore the possibility of
traveling to the Andromeda galaxy.  We are to begin as soon as
possible."   

Few things had rendered the former Borg drone speechless.  What Seven
had once thought as a somewhat ordinary interest, Annika had
maintained her enthusiasm for astronomy, thanks in no small part to
encouragement from her husband.

The Andromeda galaxy, which was the 31st object in the ancient Messier
bright-object catalog, was the nearest spiral galaxy at a distance of
two million light-years.  Further enhancements and subsequent
integration of the Quantum Slipstream and Transwarp drives had finally
given way to the `mother' of all drives, which had not yet been given
a suitable name.  Both Annika and Harry had heard about the
developments via the usual rumor mills, but nothing had been confirmed
about the latest technology in propulsion design.  Based upon the
unusual physics and compact geometries of each respective drive, the
whole thing might as well have been called "propagation design" for
lack of a better description.

The four Galactic quadrants had more or less been mapped and brief
jaunts to nearby dwarf galaxies within a radius of at least fifty
thousand light-years had proven less than enthusiastic by way of
response or by way of any existing extragalactic warp-capable species.
But, if the rumors to the `ueber-drive' were true, travel to Andromeda
would still take a long time, as long as the estimates had initially
been for Voyager to traverse the Delta Quadrant when the ship had been
stranded.  The voyage to the nearest spiral galaxy could potentially
take "only" a matter of decades with a portion of that spent in
stasis.

But, the journey to Andromeda would still be feasible.  A galaxy with
similar physical properties to our own, the possibility of finding
extragalactic life would seem more than likely with more than one
hundred billion stars from which to choose.  Perhaps they'd even find
beings similar to the Caretaker ...

Home of the Federation and countless other species, the "Milky Way"
Galaxy was certainly a testament to that very fact of abundant life.
The next stage in reaching out to a neighboring spiral galaxy would
be another chance to further the reaches of exploration.  

"This would be an incredible opportunity for the both of us.  We would
finally be able to work together and live together in the same place.
It's what we've always wanted, Annika.  And you have to admit: you are
intrigued by the possibility." 

She nodded.  "That is true.  I agree with your assessment: we should
work together on this project.  `Beauty and brains' is, as they say,
an unbeatable combination." 

"That's right."  Harry stopped.  He paused for a moment.  "Hey, who's
the brains in this outfit?"

"Why me, of course," Annika teased.  An amused look on her face spread
from her eyes to her lips.  Her remark had been flavored with a tiny
hint of her old Borg arrogance, which she fully knew that Harry
adored, now that many years had passed and a large part of her
humanity had finally emerged.  

"Well," Harry said in faux resignation.  "I guess it can't hurt for 
me to be the beautiful one."

"No, Harry," Annika closed the remaining inches again and spoke
seductively.  "It doesn't hurt at all." 

"I take it then that you think the Andromeda project is something we
should accept."

"Yes, it is."

A wide, satisfied grin appeared on Harry's face.  "That's great!  You
and I won't regret it.  All right, I'll let Janeway know ... after we
get back from Risa." 

His wife tilted her head slightly.  "Why don't you confer with her
sooner?"

"What - and have them annoy us with what they want us to do while we
should be enjoying our vacation?  No, no, I'm sure our acceptance can 
wait a little while.  I'm also sure our positions will still be
waiting for us when we return.  Besides, don't you think that this
will make the incentive for our vacation ... um ... a lot more fun?"

Sensing the "logic" in his choice, Annika had no choice but to agree.

"I like the way you think, Captain Kim."

"Hmmm, I don't know, Dr. Hansen, it sounds like a good reason for you
to marry the guy."

"That is strange, as I seem to be already affiliated to someone in a
permanent fashion."  Annika had eventually learned to play this game
between them.  She had always found the interaction and the play of 
words "stimulating."

"Well then, is there something you'd like to tell me about this
special `someone'?  I mean, I'm rather possessive and I can be 
really jealous, too." 

"He is beautiful ..."  She had begun to back them both towards the bed.

"I think we've already established that."  Harry lowered his head to
her neck and began to slide his tongue up towards the implant around
her right ear. 

A groan escaped Annika's lips.  The familiar pool of arousal had begun
to form within her; a cloud of lust surrounding them.  She was finding
great difficulty forming words. 

"He is caring ... considerate ... kind ... efficient ... an excellent
lover ..." 

Harry laughed.  "Annika, you are such a sweet talker!"

"I had a good teacher.  I believe he first began the mating ritual
of `small talk' while he and Seven of Nine first began the
construction of Astrometrics and proceeded with its operations."

She couldn't believe what his mouth was doing to her skin, a nibble
here, a gentle bite of her ear there.  A low moan escaped her throat.

For his part, the lust in Harry's mind gave way to knowing what he had
to do to elicit the sounds coming from her.  I feel so powerful, he
thought, and yet, I'm humbled that she should feel this way about me.

In the latter days of their voyage through the Galaxy, Seven of Nine
had learned the finer qualities of wearing a smirk on her face.  It
applied especially when she related to others about her "experiences"
with one very happy Lieutenant Kim.  Eventually, a softer version of
that smirk would be adopted by one Annika Hansen Kim, as she related
to others about her husband - one very capable Captain Kim.

Over time, she had grown especially familiar with the smirk that was
now pasted on her husband's face. 

"I'm so very glad that his lessons paid well.  Where do I go to thank
this fellow?"

"Look no further," she replied.  "And you need not thank him, because
I believe I can thank him for the both of us."

"I hope so.  After all, if I'm not mistaken, he was the first person
who ever saw the first glimpse of a smile from the one and only Seven
of Nine. 

The memory of that time on the Dauntless as she contemplated remaining
behind in the Delta Quadrant was one that Harry hoped he would never
forget. 

"You are not mistaken.  For what it's worth, I would have missed you,
too."

Her smile bared white teeth, blinding him.  It wasn't long before
she pushed him fully onto the bed.  Harry was momentarily surprised, 
but he couldn't give it additional thought, because Annika had leapt
onto him and started kissing him long and hard.  A familiar physical
sensation sprung into effect ...

Oh God, talk about going south ...

Quiet sounds of love continued on their bed; stroking, kissing, and
caressing each other in all of their secret places.  In the back of
her mind, Annika realized that they would be late for their ship to
Risa.

"Harry .. oh ... we will be tardy for our transport ... mmmm ..."

"We ... we can catch the next one if ... you want ..."  

Harry stopped his attentions to his wife's neck.  Lifting his head,
he looked at her to find out what she wanted.  Her look of lust was
all that he needed. 

"That is an agreeable solution," she replied.  "Now, shut up and kiss
me, Harry Kim ..." 

"Yes, ma'am ... " was all Harry could get out before his wife pressed
her lips onto his in a most insistent and loving kiss.  But there was
one last item on Harry's list. 

"Wait, sweetie ... I just want to say one more thing ..."

"What's that?"  A hint of impatience had crept into her voice.

Harry brought his hands up to her face.

"Seven ... I love you so very much."

Even after the first declaration of love and the times after that,
those words had always brought such emotion to the former Borg drone.
His use of her former designation had brought her back to those days,
remembered with great fondness and affection.

But the old name he used was only spoken privately, because he could 
say it freely, without fear, humiliation, loss, or pain.  

The word represented a numeric designation, but it had been uniquely
hers aboard Voyager.  Within their own realm, the designation was
stated in love to represent the depth of feeling he had for her.  

Only Harry had the permission to use her former designation.

For Seven, many aspects of humanity still remained mysterious and
at times unattainable.  But humanity had also given her such marvelous
and unfathomable rewards.  

"I love you, too, Harry."

Her blue eyes spoke ever so clearly now, as they always had, ever
since he laid his own brown eyes on the frightened ex-Borg woman, 
who had been left behind, alone for the first time in the great vacuum
of space.

As their eyes met, the magnitude of what they shared and accomplished
struck them silent.  They marvelled at all they'd been through and
yet, they remained true to each other, beyond the farthest reaches of
space and time.  Fortunately, happiness would not be in short supply.
Their love quickly manifested itself in soft muted sounds and 
deliberate action.

Just one more touch - reassuring and real, to the appeal of an 
eternal promise. 

Yet again, another journey began.

FIN.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A word about the Disclaimer: It was pointed out that BlackTOPS was
quite similar to this "Elite Force" game thingy.  Well, you know, with
a little thing like research, a Ph.D. thesis, and all, I've not played
a computer game since the days of Civ or Panzer General.  So, it
really is quite the koinkidinky. 

THANKS:

* To Karen Rasch for originally coming up with Bennett Riggs, who was
the basis for Malrood, and for her "Words" series which was one of the
first pieces of fan fiction I'd ever read;
* to Robert Wisden's rendition of Robert Patrick Modell (aka Pusher)
as a model for Malrood in this shindig; 
* to the Daystrom Institute Technical Library, TL's Sidearm Size
Charts, and LK's Phasers site for tech-info;
* to Lesa, Summer, and Michael Ben-Zvi: I would not have come this far
without the RiF list and Summer's 7th Heaven web site.  In particular, 
Lesa's S&S series and Michael's K/7 saga are noteworthy as key
influences;
* and, to Heidi Cash, Thomas Lee, Christine Porter, and Anne Rose for
their valuable time and their comments.

----------------------------------------------------------------------
Please address all comments to <lee@aries.phys.yorku.ca>.  
Story posted to "resistance_is_futile" at 0715 h GMT on 
Friday, May 18, 2001.  Story posted to alt.startrek.creative 
at 1511h GMT on Sunday, May 20, 2001.
----------------------------------------------------------------------