Slow Burn in Red


I am feigning regeneration inside my alcove. I do not sleep because I do not want to face my dreams of Janeway, and perfection, and lust, and love. My dreams have failed me with promises of things that cannot be mine. I do not know why I cannot have that which I desire, to make the Captain Borg, like me.  I have avoided her presence for several days.  I need to get her out of my mind.

I do not want to dream in green again, I want so desperately to hide, but the memory of her will not leave me be.

I burn inside, with thoughts of Janeway. I burn inside, in red.

I do not belong here. I am neither Borg nor Human. I was wrong to think that I could replace the Borg Queen with Captain Janeway.  I am unworthy of her presence. I am too imperfect, I am too flawed, and I have no one.

The cargo bay doors hiss open and someone lets the pale light from the corridor seep in to my alcove, where I am standing in the darkness and the green. I wish that the person would go away.  I close my eyes and attempt to ignore them.  Hopefully they will realise that I wish to be left in peace. 

Alone; as I should be.

The person does not take my hint to leave and moves to stand in front of me.  The cargo bay doors hiss closed and we are in the flickering green darkness again. I give up my pretense of sleep and glare. It is the Doctor. “Why have you disturbed me?” My voice is calm. The clear, cold tone of it conceals my despair.

The Doctor has a hand case and a brow creased deep with concern. He is opening the data of my Regeneration Log. He reads it with a frown. "Good morning to you, too, Seven. Aren't you just a little ray of sunshine?"

I decline to reply to his pleasantries. I attempt to ignore him again by closing my eyes. The Doctor scans me with his tricorder. "Seven, you've missed your last two checkups, and your Regeneration Logs are telling me that you haven't regenerated for a full cycle in the last three days! Would you mind telling me what's going on?"

I am reminded again of my scorpion dreams. I remember Janeway’s hands upon my arms, the pressure of her mouth and the wicked red heat. I let my breath out tremulously, but make sure that my reply is firm. "No, Doctor. I am fine."

"I'm not inclined to think you are -"

"I do not wish to discuss my personal issues with you!" I lose my control and the Doctor steps backwards. He is somewhat shaken by the force of my reply.   "…I…am sorry, Doctor."  I exhale slowly and attempt to soothe the Doctor's nerves. I should not blame him for my flaws. "I have had a…'difficult week'."

The Doctor snaps his tricorder closed and places it inside his hand case. He appears to be sympathetic, yet unimpressed. "So I see, Seven." His expression softens as he steps up on my dais. "You know, if something's troubling you, it's better not to keep it inside." He briefly lays his hand over mine. "If you don't want to talk to me about it, then perhaps you should speak to Captain Janeway? She's been asking after you recently, you know."

I imagine my nanoprobes rushing up against my skin at the mention of the Captain's name. My pulse temporarily speeds up its beating and I think again of dreams in green. "Thankyou, Doctor. However, I cannot. I fear that I have irrecoverably damaged my friendship with her. I am -"

I stop myself before I reveal too much, and straighten the metal of my spine as I recover my composure again.  I cast my eyes upon the Doctor and I make up an excuse in order to explain.  "I have been working  on repairing the microfractures in the Jeffries Tubes on Deck Ten,"  I tell him, recounting my activities of the past three days.  "It is a menial task, but it must be done.  I do not wish to disturb the Captain, and I do not want to displease her.  I have been trying to complete my task as efficiently as I can."

The Doctor cocks his head and examines my features quizzically. I wonder if he can see through my facade and read my scorpion dreams.  "Very well, Seven.  But it's no good reason for you to jeopardise your health, you need to regenerate.  Now, I suggest that you at least try and talk things over with the Captain, and clear the air."  He gives me a look that is pointed with concern.   For a moment, I think that perhaps he has seen inside my mind, and knows the bright green colour that I fear.   He turns around and walks towards the doors, then pauses, and says; 

"Sometimes things are not as bad as you think they are, Seven.  You should give yourself a chance."

The doors hiss open, and then they close.  I hear his footsteps fade away. 

Inside my dark, green cargo bay, I am again alone.