Gun Brooke's Janeway/Seven Advent Calendar 2009
Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek Voyager and it's original characters, and I'm only borrowing them to play with a little. No dollars (or any other currency) made - and no copyright infringement intended.
Sleepless in Space
Door 1
“Regeneration
cycle incomplete.” The resonant voice of the starship USS Voyager’s computer
interrupted Seven of Nine’s third attempt at regenerating. She stepped off the
dais, and slammed her Borg-enhanced left hand onto the panel next to her alcove.
Frustrated, and reluctantly admitting she was close to exhausted after two weeks
of constant alcove malfunctions, Seven punched in Borg-encrypted commands.
“Computer, run new
diagnostic, Seven-alpha-gamma-alpha-six.”
“Running
diagnostic.”
The panel lit up and Seven took a step back, drumming her human fingers against
her thigh. She felt a curious sensation of tremors and an alien feeling of
something fluttering in her midsection. This might well be what Naomi Wildman
called ‘the jitters’. “Diagnostic
inconclusive.” The computer’s indifferent words were hardly surprising.
Seven sighed and sat down on
the dais to her alcove. This was worrisome, but she knew only one way of dealing
with it. Had it been last year, she would have turned to the Doctor, or Captain
Janeway, but after three years aboard Voyager, she was not as inclined to ask
for assistance regarding personal matters. The Doctor had lectured her more than
once about the risks of succumbing to false pride, but for Seven it was an
important change, or evolution, even, for her quest to regain her humanity.
After eighteen years as a member of the Borg collective, she had a lot to
overcome and atone for, but she also had a lot to catch up and reclaim, when it
came to all the stolen years. Seven was determined to do that on her own, and if
that was false pride, so be it. Suddenly the vision of Captain Janeway flickered
through her mind, her even blue-gray eyes, so focused when they looked at Seven,
and her auburn hair, always so tidy, framing her elegant features. Seven
reluctantly admitted that deep down she
wanted to hail her captain, to turn to her for advice as she had so many
times before.
She sighed, exasperated at
her own weakness. The alcove problem was starting to become a serious problem,
but nobody on Voyager was more equipped to handle it than she was herself. The
tiny voice inside her that the Doctor referred to as her ‘conscience’, tried to
tell her she was making a mistake. If the alcove weren’t up and operational
within a few days, there would be irreparable damage to her system.