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The Ice
Queen
A J/7 Advent
Calendar Story 2008 by Gun Brooke
Disclaimer
4
“Annika!
You in here?”
Recognizing
the bright female voice, Seven kept her head under the hood
of the primitive automobile she was in the process of fine
tuning. “I am here, Tilde.”
“What on
earth are you doing to Lars’s old Volvo?” Tilde frowned as
she massaged the small of her back. “That thing only stays
because it has sentimental value.”
“Sentimental value?” Seven tried to figure out what possible
sentiments could be attached to the rusty old vehicle.
“Oh, this
is Lars’s baby. His brother had it when he was young and
then gave it to Lars when he upgraded to something…eh…less
rusty.”
“Corrosion
is this vehicles least problem.” Seven pulled off the latex
gloves and tossed them in a bin. “It needs several new
parts.”
“Oh, God,
don’t tell Lars that! He’ll end up spending even more money
on it.” Tilde frowned as she glanced at Seven’s Borg
enhanced hand. “Should you be doing this type of work with
your prosthesis? Can’t it get ruined?”
“My…prosthesis is very durable. It will sustain any activity
my work entails.”
“As long as
you’re sure. It sure looks high tech enough. Same as your
nifty looking eye piece. I can hardly believe the tech stuff
they think of these days.”
“It is
unbelievable.” Seven was not about to correct Tilde and
explain that the technology making up most of her body came
from the twenty-fourth century. “Can I assist you with
anything, Tilde?”
“What? Oh,
right.” Tilde took Seven’s human hand between her own. “We
are in the process of constructing the Ice Bar, which will
open soon. I need to start sending out stuff to the press,
and to special guests for an event we’re hosting in a week.
When I tried logging onto my email, I couldn’t get on the
Internet.”
“I will
assist you.”
“Would
you?” Tilde lit up. “You do so much already and I don’t mean
for you to spread yourself too thin.”
“I do not
mind spreading.” Seven checked her inward chronometer. “I do
have something I need to take care of first unless your
electronic communication cannot wait two hours.”
“Oh, it can
wait as long as I do it today. No problem. You’re a
sweetheart.” Tilde gave Seven a quick hug and then left.
Seven
donned a parka and pulled the fur brimmed hood up to cover
her head. It was minus fifteen degrees Celsius outside and
hiking up along the river to where she had hidden the Delta
Flyer took half an hour. She had grown accustomed to using
her portable regeneration unit an hour at a time, which kept
her Borg systems functioning at acceptable parameters. The
Delta Flyer was safely hidden from the natives behind a Borg
enhanced cloaking field.
Seven
sighed. With so much to do, and more and more chores being
added to her list of duties, she had not had much time to
work on the shuttle as much as she would have preferred.
Making her way up along the river bank, she drew deep
breaths of the crisp, fresh air. The cold stung her lungs a
little, but she appreciated the sensation.
It was
truly ironic, she mused. Voyager’s crew, and her captain in
particular, thought of little else than to make it back to
the Alpha Quadrant and Earth. And here she was, the only one
who never saw the need.
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