Regeneration

Personal Log
Seven of Nine
52521.4
Borg encryption coding Alpha Chi 8
 

I find I am malfunctioning.
 

Although I returned to Cargo Bay regeneration area 27 minutes ago, I find myself reluctant to enter the regeneration bay. I have run diagnostic scans on all nanoprobe and human biological functioning and find no parameters beyond acceptable norms. I am forced to concluded that this malfunction is psychological . Captain Janeway has spoken of occasional inability to sleep, referring to this inability as “being troubled”. I am forced to conclude that I am troubled.
 

I am unused to this, feeling, as the humans would call it. The Captain advised that when she is “troubled” she prefers to converse with another, and I have occasionally awoken from regeneration to discover her waiting to speak to me. However, I find instead a desire to avoid conversation with any crew member. That is why I informed the Captain that she should inquire of the Doctor the facts of our recent encounter with the creature.
 

It is much like the Collective. Yet, the voices in my head are only my own. Although, I do not wish to speak with anyone, I believe there is information I must recover before I will be able to quiet the voices and achieve the regeneration state my body requires.
 

I am confused about many details of the encounter. While I understand the logic and the mechanics of the creatures abilities, I find I am dismayed at the rapidity and thoroughness with which the creature was able to delude the entire crew of Voyager. I have perhaps overestimated human intelligence. I find, however, a particular disappointment in the actions Captain Janeway. I am unused to viewing her under the control of others. Perhaps her ability to break free of the delusions of the Hirogen in their continuing simulations has led me to irrational expectations. Yet, I find that throughout our efforts , a part of me expected the Captain to join Naomi Wildman, the Doctor and myself in our struggles. That the desire to return to an unremarkable planet should so cloud her vision and sap her of her formidable strength leaves me diminished.
 

I am troubled as well by my own encounter with the creature’s lures. I can remember no conscious desire to believe that the wormhole was indeed an easy passage to the Alpha Quadrant. In point of fact, I remember clearly a strong desire that contrary to any readings or appearances the wormhole not exist. I was gratified when it proved an illusion. The Doctor speculates, that it was my lack of feeling for Earth which made me impervious to the creature’s hallucinations. To an extent I would agree. And yet, Mr. Neelix’s production of a supposed letter from a paternal aunt can not be explained in that context. Is it possible that I do indeed find some attraction in the thought of returning to an unremarkable planet to which I have no ties? Did my own subconscious create a relative in order to have some reason to desire it? I find that explanation unacceptable. I find no memory, not even a small one, during our encounter with the creature which would lead to the production of such a letter. It is possible that the creature miscalculated, assuming that such a letter would entice me into its delusions. But the creature in all other things proved to be profoundly wise in its ability to individuate the fantasies which it created. It is merely egotism to assume that it would so badly miscalculate when confronted with my own psyche.
 

My only conclusion must be that the letter was the product of the mind of someone else among the crew. The thought is both troubling and intriguing. Although I did not consider it at the time, I find myself disappointed that no member of the crew seemed to have any desire to include me in a vision of their future homecoming. While most hallucinations seem to have been profoundly personal, many apparently involved the inclusion of others who might be deemed friends. It is illogical that I should be disappointed that the crew of Voyager does not regard me in more than a professional manner. I find there are few in whom I myself have a more than a passing interest. And yet, there is some unnamed member of this collective whose personal desires included a vision of my own happiness, however misguided that vision might have been. Though it would seem to serve no purpose, I am warmed by that thought. And I find myself curious regarding that crew member’s identity. It is unlikely that I will discover their identity, but some portion of my being finds their existence comforting.
 

One final discomforting incident remains to record. During my struggles against both the creature and the Captain’s impairment, my system was shocked into unconsciousness by a console overload. Even now I must acknowledge a small, but measurable resentment against the crew of this ship that I should in the midst of saving their lives been not only threatened but physically assaulted.
 

I have at other times been subject to undesirable and unreliable recollections of my assimilation and subsequent participation in the will of the Collective. It would not be unreasonable to expect a similar reaction from such a system overload. In this situation, however, my experience was unique. Not only do my biometric scans reveal an enhanced respiration and heartrate, but I find myself almost unwilling to describe the images to which I was subjected. I would prefer to believe it was the creature’s influence. And yet I find no logical evidence to assume so, since these emotional surges did not serve in any way to diminish my intentions to remove Voyager from her predicament.
 

I am left to wonder why, as I lay unconscious, the victim of hostile intentions, my psyche should be bathed in images of soft firelight, and the warm caress of a human hand. Though I have searched my memories I can find none which matches these. That failure disappoints me, for surprising myself, I now in full consciousness mourn the loss of that gentle touch.
 

Having recorded these concerns, I remain troubled. But I have determined that perhaps if I am able to achieve a restful state, those images will return. For the first time in my life, I hope to dream.