Part VII.

The aliens had warily inspected the provided foodstuffs and water, but seemed to have been satisfied that they were not intended to harm them. Now they appeared to be conversing with each other, the content of their dialogue slowly becoming easier to pick as the ancient translation system began to learn and compensate for the flat, toneless language.

The feed from the cell abruptly cut out as the communications grid blinked with an incoming message. He pressed the receive button and the face of the base's commander appeared on the screen.

== Over-sergeant Cordee ==

"Reporting, General," he replied, snapping to attention.

== The Council requires the presence of the alien identified as 'Commander Chakotay'== he said, stumbling briefly over the foreign name. == You will escort it to the secondary Council Chamber immediately. Verbal communication may be used *if necessary* to convince this 'Commander Chakotay' to acquiesce peacefully and/or to prevent him from attempting to escape. ==

"Understood, General."

The general nodded curtly once and link cut out, the monitor resuming the cell feed. Wasting no time - the order was for immediate action, after all, he quickly selected four other guards and sent a fifth to awaken the next shift to take their place.

Shortly later, they entered the cell block, camouflage devices off but weapons at the ready. The four other guards quickly took up position, two to each side of the cell as Cordee approached and punched in the access code. When the forcefield shimmered out of existence, he stepped back away from the cell, weapon trained on the alien.

As Kes applied the cold compress to Seven's forehead she wondered how the ex-drone was feeling. To all appearances she looked completely calm and passive, but it was hard for Kes to believe that Seven was feeling no anxiety at all regarding her condition.

A slight noise made Kes turn her head...the Doctor was emerging from his office, his conference with the Captain apparently over. His face was set into a slight frown, and he appeared to Kes' eyes to be worried. He darted his eyes briefly at her in a hint that his news wasn't going to be pleasant, then addressed the former drone. "Seven?"

Seven of Nine opened her eyes and looked at the hologram, her expression unchanged.

"I've determined that this planet does not pose a threat to Voyager and her crew as a whole. However..." he walked around to the other side of the biobed. "...it's apparent that the inhabitants have devised a set frequency which affects the molecular structure of most Borg components. Your implants are degrading."

Kes' eyes widened in shock at the Doctor's news. What he had said was like pronouncing a death sentence on Seven, who sat up. Kes replaced the compress, then decided to give up and left it on the Biobed. It wasn't going to make much difference for the moment against this diagnosis.

Seven of Nine looked at the Doctor with no change of expression.

"How is the vision in your left eye?" he asked with a slight wavering in his voice.

"The vision is clear," responded Seven.

"Good," he said. "Any further discomfort at the moment?"

"No."

Satisfied, the Doctor grinned. "Then I don't see why you can't return to duty."

Kes looked meaningfully at the doctor over Seven's head. "Doctor?"

He caught the look immediately then looked back to his patient.

"One moment, Seven."

Kes remained silent until they were inside the Doctor's office.

"Doctor, I'm concerned about two things…"

"What is it, Kes?" he asked in a meaningful tone.

She paused, thinking. "If Seven's Borg implants are degenerating, does that mean the other Borg technology on the ship is also affected?"

The EMH moved in to whisper. "As a matter of fact, it does indeed. All the areas and systems of the ship enhanced by the Borg during their stay here are being or will be compromised." He looked down, worried, and ran a finger along his desk in patterns where they stood. "That's why I'm hesitant to just leave Seven of Nine here. As long as she can function, Engineering is going to be needing her guidance in order to bypass any adaptive shielding thwarting the procedure."

Kes nodded thoughtfully.

"I can't deny that I'm concerned about sending her out when she's only going to deteriorate, but you're right - she will be needed…" She watched the Doctors finger moving over the desk. "… and if we continue to monitor her, we can get her to Sickbay rapidly if necessary."

He nodded. "And since the condition pertains to her technology, I do not believe the rate of deterioration will increase with exertion on her part. I'll give her a biomonitor again before sending her to assist Lieutenant Torres."

Kes and the Doctor headed back to the treatment area. The Doctor went directly to his patient and Kes collected a new biomonitor before joining him.

The Doctor took the device from Kes and affixed it behind Seven's ear. Seven remained cool and stoic as she sat straight. "We will continue to monitor your condition," he said, "but so long as you feel well enough, there's no reason to excuse you from your duties. In fact, I have a feeling they'll need you now more than ever down on deck twelve." He configured the monitor to send him what information he needed, then stepped back. "There! You're free to go."

Seven looked at the Doctor, then at Kes, then back to the Doctor. As the hologram stepped aside, she ignored his gesture to assist and swung her legs over the side of the biobed and stepped down. With the most imperceptible change in her pupils, she nodded to him and walked out of Sickbay. The Doctor looked at Kes and raised an eyebrow.

Tuvok, still feigning weakness, was fully alert as their captors entered the cell block. It had been some time since they had last been in contact with them, but they were apparently not here to examine them this time. Their posture and body language suggested that they had something else in mind.

He swung his feet down, going from prone to sitting position as they opened the Commander's cell. He studied the layout, two guards per side as the obvious ranking member of the group brought down the forcefield. Perhaps they had grown overconfident, but he strained to see the code that was punched into the control panel.

Chakotay stood up, wincing at the pain in his side, and watched as the aliens surrounded the entrance to his cell. One of the small, blue-suited creatures touched the control panel next to the doorway. The forcefield fell. The alien stepped back, with its weapon at the ready.

Across the hall, Tuvok was sitting up on his bed. He had something in his hand. He was looking at Chakotay. With the heaviest object from his dinner tray in hand, he then relaxed slightly, and tried to catch Chakotay's eye for a signal to feign an injury."

One last time, thought Chakotay. One last chance at communication. Then...

He looked directly at the alien who had dropped the forcefield.

"What do you want?" he asked. "Do you want me to go with you?"

As Kes replaced the instruments they'd used during the procedure, she thought about Seven of Nine's reaction, or rather, her apparent lack. It was hard to reconcile with the angry, despairing person she'd observed during Seven's first days with them. The former drone had railed so at the enforced separation from the collective, keenly feeling the isolation of her situation, but now seemed totally in control.

Kes marveled at the strength of character Seven must possess. Not only had she been forced to cope with the reality of having to adjust to life on Voyager - but now to be told that the last few physical remnants of her 'Borgness' were effectively killing her. It seemed to Kes that that must be too much for anyone to bear alone. Seven was doubly alone - she'd lost the collective, she didn't have any friends or family to support her and Kes wondered how the other woman would cope. She was now, after all, only human.

Turning to the Doctor, Kes voiced her concern.

"Doctor, how do you think Seven will manage to deal with this? I know how lost and isolated I'd feel now without my friends here on Voyager."

It had been quite a while since the engineering staff and Captain Janeway had begun the process of removing Borg technology from Engineering. But without B'Elanna Torres and especially Seven of Nine... a dead end had been reached.

"Captain. We've removed all of the Borg parts that we can without Seven's instructions. I wouldn't attempt to touch their more complicated enhancements without her direction. I seriously doubt if even B'Elanna would." said Lt. Carey

"How much were we able to remove?"

"About one fourth is all we could remove, unfortunately." he replied

"Well, at least it was a start. Let's hope the remaining majority keep functioning until Seven is released from Sickbay. I believe the Doctor was intending to release her soon." the Captain said.

Saying that, Carey discussed the things that had been removed up to this point, with her. He then showed one of B'Elanna's PADDs with the inventory of all of the Borg enhancements - that she had listed weeks ago. Seeing it all in print humbled the Captain quite a bit.

"I had no idea the collective made that many enhancements. I guess Seven will be instructing several departments."

Lt. Carey agreed. After conversing with the Captain for several minutes, the doors to Engineering opened. Seven of Nine entered. The Captain and Carey strolled over.

"Seven. It's certainly wonderful to see you on your feet again. With you here, I guess I should just leave engineering duty.. unless Mr. Carey feels otherwise."

Seven looked like she felt more awkward than anything. She observed the Captain attentively, then Carey as he answered.

"I think we can handle it now, Captain."

"Good. Well... Seven, please don't push yourself too hard. I'll be on the Bridge if you need me."

Seven nodded at the Captain, still not having much to say. As Carey handed Seven the PADD, they began the work... and Seven directed.

Captain Janeway looked at the ex-drone with admiration and pride. She then left Engineering.

Chakotay was surprised when the alien spoke. Apparently, they possessed some kind of universal translator. That might be a good sign. That, plus the fact that they were inviting him to leave the cell, instead of dragging him out.

He considered briefly. One against five. Tuvok might be able to beat those odds, but Chakotay knew he couldn't, even with a distraction. He made his decision, and looked at Tuvok across the hall.

"I'm going to go with these people, Lieutenant," he said, and half-smiled. "Stay here until I return."

Tuvok nodded. "Understood, Commander."

Chakotay looked back at the alien who had spoken. "All right. I'm coming out of my cell, now."

He stepped out of the cell, into the hallway, and stopped, waiting for instructions.

"There's been some sort of radiation leak. We'll beam you to Sickbay as soon as we get past the debris," the ensign explained as several crewmen entered the generator room.

A grateful Tom nodded in relief and looked over at B´Elanna who was being lifted by the rescue team.

"You guys have missed a hell of a party down here," Tom coughed and pointed at the debris and the broken generators.

He looked at B´Elanna again. Then he realized what she had told him. And he knew that he was feeling the same.

"Ok, now Mr. Paris," someone said and touched him.

Tom coughed again and lost consciousness.

The Doctor was entering the details of his surgical procedure into Seven's medical file, when he looked up. After some moments, he turned to Kes. "Seven of Nine will adapt. Voyager is her collective now."

The Ocampan's expression was far from one of satisfaction; it was clear she expected a better answer. He sighed and reiterated. "Seven's journey is by no means an easy one. Having been accustomed to the thoughts of thousands coexisting with hers, we can't begin to imagine what her new lifestyle is like for her as it is."

He turned back to his PADD and entered some more data as he continued: "I wouldn't write her off just yet. This current situation may appear dire. As you know, the Borg are incapable of investigating and discerning, of solving problems; they assimilate all their information. We've managed to evaluate the nature of her condition and its cause in hours, something the Borg could not achieve in centuries. There has to be some sort of comfort in that for her, some sort of hope that we may find a solution before damage to essential implants and the organic systems they maintain is irreversible."

"Somehow, I imagine that hope is an emotion that Seven hasn't used for a long time," Kes replied, "but you're right, of course." She looked directly at the Doctor. "I wonder if Commander Chakotay and the others are all right?"

The Doctor looked up once again. This time, his expression softened, his brow knitted with concern. "Since it is evident that Mister Neelix' bioreadings were masked by the planet's rock formations, we have no way of knowing. It just might be that they're investigating the caves for essential ores and crystals..." He smiled weakly.

Just then, the glow from a site-to-site transportation appeared from behind them in the middle of the treatment area. Three medics had Tom and B'Elanna on stretchers. The Doctor and Kes looked at one another for only a moment before they approached the party and instructed the medics to move their two subjects to neighboring biobeds.

In a flash, Kes handed the EMH a tricorder. Within seconds, he ran the component down the length of one patient and up the other. "They have singed alveoli from some plasma radiation leak. I'll need a hypospray of Pulmozine for the both of them, standard dosage!"

Kes nodded and went to load up the hypospray for two doses, then keyed in the output parameters. In seconds it was in the Doctor's hands. He administered it first to Tom, who was unconscious, then - with a quick deviation to key the next dose - to B'Elanna.

B'Elanna, who had been coughing, started to quiet down as breathing apparently came easier to her. Tom was another matter. "I'll need 20cc's of Inaprovalene."

"Right away, Doctor," said Kes as she turned to the hypo station and loaded a new hypospray with the stimulant. She traded it for the used one. She removed the dosage vial from the depleted instrument and placed the empty hypospray into a compartment for sterilization. She could hear the quiet hiss of the Inaprovalene dose entering Tom, and shortly thereafter a grunt.

"Okay now, Mister Paris," said the Doctor in a moment of uncharacteristic reassurance.

Captain Janeway arrived at the Bridge, entering from the turbolift.

It was nearly midnight, and as the night-shift was now underway, Ensign Castillo sat in the Captain's chair. The night command crew occupied the other stations, except the helm; so to maintain their morale - the Captain changed her plans.

"Just passing through, Mr. Castillo." she said, gesturing for him to remain seated. She entered her Ready Room.

As she picked up a book to pass the time, still too hard-headed and anxious to allow herself sleep, she stretched out on the sofa to read it. After a moment - her combadge interrupted.

=/\= Hart to Janeway =/\=

"Go ahead, Lieutenant."

=/\= I have good news. Torres and Paris have been released from their prison. They're in Sickbay now from their injuries, but the Doctor will have to update you on that. =/\=

"Mr. Hart, you folks certainly did a fine job. Assign clean-up detail, and return to regular duty shifts at your leisure. Good work. Janeway out."

At that, Janeway would wait for the Doctor's update on her chief engineer and pilot. She sighed with some relief, and picked up her reading from where she left off.

The short walk to the council chamber was accomplished without any problems, much to Cordee's relief. Commander Chakotay even eventually gave up asking questions once he realized that he wasn't going to get a further reply, and the small group now stood in the small antechamber. It was distinctly crowded, the room never meant for someone for the alien's stature. He had to stoop slightly in order to stand and in the end had wound up sitting on one of the undersized chairs, which still served only to exaggerate his stature.

The council door abruptly opened and two more guards appeared - neither in the concealing camouflage gear. Cordee, however, was only given the briefest of moments to wonder what this meant.

"We will take the alien from here," the senior of the two new guards said, taking up position on either side of Commander, who had stood at their sudden appearance. "You will wait in this chamber until we return."

"Yes, senior lieutenant," Cordee replied, ripping off a smart salute.

Lintorhan watched curiously as the guards ushered the alien in to stand before the semi-circular council table. Like herself, the other four members of the council were also observing it with varying degrees of fascination, curiosity, fear and hostility. Probably fortunately for the alien and its people, the former two were the most prevalent - even the most ardent of protectionists would be hard-pressed to not feel curious about this unexpected arrival. After all, no one in several generations had had contact with any other race save the Borg.

When the guards had retreated back to their positions by the door, weapons drawn, alert and ready for any hostile move, Lintorhan glanced at her fellow council members and received various affirming gestures that she go first.

Chakotay stood and regarded the aliens. They reminded him of cats: their bodies were covered with fine fur, in varying shades of grey, and their pupils were slits in black or grey eyes. Five of them were sitting at a semi-circular table that dominated the room. They were dressed quite differently from the guards who had brought him here.

Inwardly, Chakotay sighed with relief. It looked like his attempts to communicate were about to pay off. They had brought him to a council chamber, not a torture chamber.

The aliens glanced at each other. Finally, the one in the centre spoke.

"Commander Chakotay," Lintorhan began, hoping that the ancient translation system was in fact working as well as the engineers had told her it was, "We apologize for the… manner in which you have been treated. We have not had contact with… another species in some time. We… require you to answer a number of questions."

Chakotay nodded. Unconsciously, he clasped his hands behind his back, standing at parade rest. Here we go, he thought.

"I will be happy to answer your questions," he said. "But first, I have a question of my own. One of my men is missing: he was not confined with us in the cells. I am concerned for his safety. Can you tell me what has happened to him?"

B'Elanna's cough, although improved by the Pulmozine, was still troubling her. Concerned, Kes moved to stand near her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Try not to cough, it will help you to recover more quickly" Kes advised B'Elanna in her soft voice, but the testy engineer pushed her away and struggled to sit.

From his peripheral vision, the Doctor caught movement that translated into B'Elanna Torres putting up a fuss. Good. She's recovering nicely.

Lieutenant Paris was meanwhile breaking the barrier between oblivion and coherency. While the hologram monitored the helmsman's life signs, which continued to improve, He observed Tom trying with difficulty to shape his mouth and speak. The result was an unintelligible slur.

The Doctor wrinkled his brow for a moment. "Lieutenant?"

"Lieutenant?" the whisper was harsh against the silence of the cell block.

"Yes, Ensign?" Tuvok answered Horton.

"What's the plan?" the ensign's voice floated out of the darkness of the cell block.

"There does not yet appear to be a plan, Ensign," he answered.

"But... but what about all that about Regulation 46A and everything?" Horton, Tuvok remembered, was mildly claustrophobic. "Wasn't that a plan?"

"The facts seem to indicate we are simply being detained, ensign," Tuvok replied, "If they wanted us dead, they surely would have done so already. Their body language and treatment of us thus far have not been overly aggressive nor antagonistic in any way. You must remain calm."

"I'm trying, Lieutenant," Horton said, "but I just feel so... restrained..."

Tuvok moved closer to his cell archway, so that Horton could see him. "Ensign, I would like to teach you a meditation technique that will help you relax."

"Sure, I'll try anything..." there was an accompanying sound of shuffling which, to Tuvok's ears, might have been the sound of Horton kneeling on the ground.

The lesson began...

"I will be happy to answer your questions," he said. "But first, I have a question of my own. One of my men is missing: he was not confined with us in the cells. I am concerned for his safety. Can you tell me what has happened to him?"

Lintorhan winced to herself, and others around the table shifted uncomfortably.

"The being you refer to was severely injured in the initial firefight. Our medical staff were unable to save him. His physiology was too alien," she sighed ruefully, "and our medical technology unable to be fully adapted. I am sorry," she concluded with sincerity. "It was an accident."

Chakotay did his best to keep his face impassive. An accident, he thought bitterly.

Finally, he nodded. "I'm sorry, too," he said. "I'll answer your questions, now."

The Captain had read several chapters of 'the book of the moment club' selection... and whether she liked it or not, she was now sound asleep.

To the realm where the alert lose control, and where things denied are dealt with - this officer had arrived. She dreamt.

"Captain. We should explore a different part of this quadrant and wait for their war to end... let them fight it out."

"I can't do that, Chakotay. This is our only way home."

"We'll be in danger."

"...only way home."

"We are the Borg. You will be assimilated."

"...only way home."

"They said 'the weak shall perish'. It's an invasion... they intend to destroy everything."

"...only way home."

"I am Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One. We will create the weapon prototype."

"...only way home."

"He will die, unless I can produce enough encoded nanoprobes."

"...only way home. I'd rather get us home, Doctor... too bad about Harry Kim."

"But it did not happen in such a manner. It is illogical to feel guilt in a situation for which one had no control. You did not word your decision to the Doctor in that way."

"...only way home."

"Captain. I am sad to report that Ensign Kim has passed away."

"...only way home."

"Kathryn. Sometimes a Captain will inadvertently order a person to their untimely death. But crew morale is more important than your selfish guilt over such an event."

"But daddy, I could have done it differently."

"You didn't. It's over. You are the Captain for others too, so you will just have to let him go."

As Janeway started to 'see' her father morph into the form of Harry Kim as he spoke, her entire frame jolted and she woke up startled and slightly short of breath.

She was amused at the lack of tact her father still retained in her mental version of him. That and the other punches were just what she needed. The book of Harry Kim, though never banned, would now be shelved - as the dream of it had finally occurred.

Lieutenant Tom Paris desperately tried to say something, but his mouth was dry and his tongue felt like hot foam rubber.

He looked at the Doctor who was observing him.

"Oc, whab....," he tried.

The Hologram wrinkled his eyebrow.

"Lieutenant?" he asked.

Tom moaned and tried again.

"Oc, I cammob...I cammob pheak," he said and rolled his eyes. Tom realized that this "conversation" was quite pointless, so he stopped and looked up at the ceiling again.

"Another glorious day in Sickbay," the pilot thought.

As soon as sounds could be heard from Tom, B'Elanna started moving again.

"Please, B'Elanna" Kes murmured, "You really must lie still - Tom will be fine," she added as the engineer went to cut in. "the Doctor is with him and treating him now, just relax for the moment."

Kes looked thoughtfully at B'Elanna, wondering why she seemed quite so keen to see Tom. They were friends, yes, and a certain amount of concern for colleagues was expected, especially on this ship, but....?

B'Elanna sighed, and pounded her fist uselessly on the wall to release a maddened, undirected wave of anger which had been building up inside her. Apprehension, and fear, filled up the gap.

"Alright, fine. But I want to know the moment he's up, understood?"

As Tom closed his eyes from the Sickbay lights and B'Elanna's tantrum, the Doctor looked up. "Lieutenant Torres...," he said with blatant calm.

No doubt had she not retained even a fraction of her humanity during these rages of hers, Torres would have forgotten that the Doctor was a hologram and lunged for him. Instead, she stood, shoulders hunched, weight shifting from foot to foot, eyes burning - her stance was at the ready while awaiting his next line.

Not being phased by her display, the Doctor continued in his defiantly quiet tone. "I have already spoken with the Captain, and thought you might like to be filled in on the ship's current condition. It may well impact your current projects." He looked down momentarily at Paris, who wheezed slightly from residual irritation. The Doctor smirked and continued: "No doubt it may be related to what caused your little mishap."

At the very least, Torres found that whatever was wrong with Voyager now would be a distraction.

And with the euphoria, anger and dizzy confusion, she could really use a distraction right now.

She sat back down on the biobed next to Tom.

"Go ahead, Doctor."

The Doctor was inwardly pleased that B'Elanna sat back down on the biobed in reticence. It made things that much easier to discuss, and therefore that much easier for the temperamental engineer to re-delegate if need be.

He walked to the main console and tapped an entry into the LCARS interface. Torres stepped beside him. The Doctor displayed a capture logged from Seven's operation. The molecular cohesion of the substance was being eaten away.

"The Borg technology which has been incorporated into the ship's systems are being broken down by some form of radiation emitted from this planet which we have yet to isolate." The Doctor explained. "We cannot detect it on sensors, but it IS in evidence - as you can see."

Kes recoiled slightly from B'Elanna's outburst, but collected herself immediately. By this time however, the Doctor was talking calmly with the frustrated Engineer, who seemed to be responding well. Kes noticed Tom closing his eyes as if hiding from the strong lights and emotions in the room. The Doctor led B'Elanna to the main console and began to explain what they knew of their predicament to her. Kes stepped over to Tom's bed and quietly checked his readings. He was still breathing somewhat raggedly, but his vital signs were good, and he was improving slowly and steadily.

"Tom, it's Kes."

His eyelids flickered and he grunted a bit. Kes put her hand on his arm.

"Don't worry about speaking, just keep resting and you'll feel better soon. B'Elanna is already up and about"

Torres turned to the Doctor. "Do you have a record of the damage already done to Voyager?"

The hologram raised an eyebrow and looked at her as though slightly taken aback. "I'm a doctor, Lieutenant, not an engineer. I'm only aware of this because Seven of Nine's remaining Borg implants had begun to deteriorate. It tipped us off as to the ship's assorted problems." He exited the surgical logs with a quick pass of his fingers on the console. "I'm sure Lieutenant Carey and Seven of Nine will have a detailed damage report for you by the time you return to your post."

Torres nodded. "Has any solution been found yet?"

"Unfortunately, no," replied the Doctor as he shook his head. "short of removing the Borg Technology from ship's systems. Seven of course doesn't have it that easy. I just had to 'rewire' her ocular implant. If we don't find a means to shield her from the frequency soon, we'll lose her."

"In that case, I'd better get to Engineering. If those don't all come out soon, failure could result in anything from a minor fracture of the hull to a matter-antimatter explosion." Torres responded.

"Lieutenant..."

Torres looked at the hologram. "Yes Doctor?"

"About Seven of Nine," he started.

Torres nodded for him to continue, but she felt she knew what he was going to say already.

The Doctor displayed a slight uneasiness. "She's still getting accustomed to - human protocols. Seven MUST come here the moment there is any indication that she is having any perceptual or motor difficulties. It's likely that she'll try to ignore the symptoms, but doing so may prove fatal. If you see she's acting strangely or having problems, could you order her back here? With luck all she'd need is another 'rewiring' of something."

Torres' hopes plummeted down. "Fine," she said with far more hostility than was due.

Whether the hologram missed the tone or chose to ignore it, one could only guess. He grinned and nodded in gratitude: "Thank you, Lieutenant. You are free to go. I'll send Lieutenant Paris back to engineering as soon as he's well enough to be released."

In response, Torres strode out of Sickbay.

"Here," said Lieutenant Carey, "this is a list of all the Borg modifications we haven't been able to remove."

Seven of Nine took the PADD and studied it. Carey signaled to Nicoletti and Vorik to join them, and put his hand lightly on Seven's back. "Let's go over here," he said.

Seven looked up briefly, then back down at the PADD as she walked with Carey to the starboard workstation. Finally, she looked up again. "You have not had much success," she said.

"No," Carey admitted, taking his hand from Seven's back and typing in commands at the workstation. Nicoletti and Vorik arrived. "Let's start at the top," said Carey. "Computer, show me a spatial imaging scan of plasma intake manifold eleven."

A three-dimensional image of the intake manifold appeared on the computer screen. It no longer looked much like an intake manifold.

"See," said Carey, pointing at the screen, "these Borg accumulators are blocking the manifolds and preventing plasma from flowing to the warp core. If we can't unblock the manifolds, we can't re-initialize the antimatter reaction. But every time we remove an accumulator, another one pops up in another manifold."

Seven of Nine nodded. "Yes. Like all Borg technology, the accumulators are designed to assimilate alien technology. They interpret your attempts to remove them as resistance to assimilation, and adapt by reconstructing themselves in another location."

"So," said Carey, "what's the quickest, most efficient way to remove them?"

"Replace the plasma intake manifolds," said Seven of Nine.

"Logical," said Vorik, "but impractical. We have nothing to replace them with."

"Our resources are extremely limited right now," said Nicoletti. "We need to salvage as much of the Starfleet hardware as possible."

Seven of Nine reconsidered. "Excise the accumulators with a phaser beam," she said, finally.

Carey and Nicoletti looked startled. "What do you mean, excise?" asked Carey. "You mean, cut it out?"

"Yes," said Seven of Nine. She pointed at the image of the intake manifold. "Start here, at least 4.7 centimetres away from the accumulator. Any closer and it will resist."

"Cut around the accumulator, clockwise," she continued, tracing an irregular line around the Borg device. "When you are finished, remove the cut-out section and replace it. A Borg cutting beam would be more efficient and precise, but a phaser should be adequate."

Nicoletti stared. Vorik raised an eyebrow. "Like cutting out a tumour," he said thoughtfully.

Seven of Nine looked at the Vulcan, and raised her own eyebrow in response. "Yes," she said.

"No," said Carey, firmly. "Look, Seven of Nine, we can't just cut the ship into pieces. We need to avoid causing any further damage. Like Susan said, our resources are limited."

Seven of Nine frowned. "There is no quick and efficient way to remove these modifications without causing further damage."

Carey frowned back. "Well, we need something slow and inefficient, then."

Seven of Nine glared at Carey. Humans were impossible to deal with. "You *asked* for the quickest and most efficient procedure," she said angrily.

Carey looked back, baffled. What was her problem? "We can't cut the ship apart with phasers," he said. "That's crazy!"

"Uh, look..." said Nicoletti.

"What Lieutenant Carey is trying to say," said Vorik, "is that we must work as quickly and efficiently as possible, without causing any additional damage to the ship's systems."

"That's right," said Nicoletti quickly. "Is there any way to prevent the Borg hardware from regenerating when we try to remove it?"

Seven of Nine continued to glare at Carey. "Yes," she said tightly. "By first removing the autonomous regeneration sequencers. However, that procedure is labour-intensive and time-consuming."

"Show us, please," said Vorik.

Seven of Nine turned to the computer screen, and pointed out the autonomous regeneration sequencers. "Here," she said, "here, and here. You must disconnect each sequencer conduit at the assertion juncture."

Nicoletti nodded. "Okay. Now we're getting somewhere. I think we should try to remove the accumulator from number eleven. Seven of Nine can supervise. What do you think, Joe?"

Carey was still staring at Seven of Nine. Something was bothering him. She...

"Joe?"

"What? Oh. Yes, of course. Proceed."

"Okay," said Nicoletti. "Vorik?"

Vorik picked up his toolkit and motioned for Seven of Nine to follow him. "This way, please."

Carey and Nicoletti followed. Vorik opened the access panel and started working on the plasma intake manifold. Nicoletti opened her tricorder. "Good thing your wife isn't here," she said, her voice low.

"What?" said Carey.

"You were staring."

"Staring? Oh--no. I mean, yes, but--"

"What?"