The Doctor tossed the PADD onto his desk in irritation, once more unable to concentrate on the backlog of work that was slowly building up. Though an uneasy sort of truce now existed between himself and Seven, he found that he was more frustrated and full of self-recrimination than ever. True, she no longer snubbed him, but the close friendship that had slowly grown between them was now broken, perhaps damaged beyond repair, and it was this that he most regretted. Now, when they encountered one another, they were polite, professional; the intimacy they had shared was gone, and he felt a hollow place in his life that she had once filled. His pain was increased by the knowledge that Seven was even more isolated: while she was no longer the frightened ex-drone she'd once been, an object of hatred and suspicion for much of the crew, she could hardly be said to be surrounded by friends. Her social abilities had improved greatly over time, but he could see how keenly she felt the loss of his friendship, how lonely she was.
    Sighing heavily, he picked up his mobile emitter. He needed companionship; sickbay was too empty and silent for him in his present mood. As he turned to leave his office he was startled to see her standing in the middle of sickbay looking at him. For the briefest of moments there was such a look of desperate yearning on her face he had to fight the urge to run to her and wrap his arms around her, to protect her from anything that could ever hurt her; but almost immediately her expression relaxed into the customary stoic calm that fooled so many of the crew into believing that she was cold and emotionless.
    He replaced the emitter and moved from his office to approach her. "Hello, Seven. What can I do for you?"
    "I'm due for my weekly medical maintenance."
    "Of course." He picked up a tricorder and began his usual scans. "So how have you been?"
    "Adequate."
    "Mmm... no problems I should know about?"
    "None."
    He tried to remain detached, professional, but it was difficult with the tension seeming to fill the air between them. They both knew how they felt about one another now, but it could not be spoken of. For the Doctor's part, he knew that any attempt to broach the subject would only cause Seven more pain; and he knew that she could not speak of the powerful new emotions that she was experiencing for the simple reason that they filled her with fear.
    "Ocular implant correctly aligned..." He struggled to keep his voice emotionless and business-like, but couldn't help glancing up at those beautiful, expressive eyes, wanting to drown in their depths. They made eye-contact and both looked away hurriedly in embarrassment. In his peripheral vision he saw her cheeks flushing and felt sorrow. Was that her first blush? It should have been a moment of celebration, one more step on her path back to humanity; instead... As he scanned her left arm to check her blood-pressure he saw her raise her right hand to touch her cheek, no doubt wondering at the strange heat in her face. At this point he should have been enthusiastically expounding the phenomenon of the blush-response, perhaps listing some of the species in which it occurred, maybe embarking on a detailed analysis of the physiological processes that lay behind it.
    "Well, you're in good health, other than a slight reduction of erythrocytes in your blood. Have you been neglecting to regenerate again?" he asked, knowing that in all probability she was having difficulty regenerating rather than avoiding it.
    "My duties have been somewhat extensive of late. I will make sure that I regenerate soon."
    He sighed at her evasive answer, yet more proof of the loss of the trust that had once existed between them. "Very well, but I will have to monitor the situation; if your erythrocyte levels drop any further I'll have to take action."
    She nodded and turned away from him. In the doorway to sickbay she hesitated for a moment, and he could sense the conflict of desires within her, knew that the impulse to come to him was warring with the impulse to flee his presence, to escape from feelings that she wanted no part of. Suddenly she was gone, but a small ray of light penetrated the gloom that had consumed him of late: perhaps she would find the courage to conquer her fears; perhaps, someday, she would come to him, ready at last to experience the depths of his feelings, and reveal hers in turn...
    Abruptly he headed for his office. There was a backlog of work to catch up on.

    Seven frowned in consternation as she left sickbay behind. In a single moment her resolve had crumbled; it had taken all of her considerable will-power to leave. Sighing fitfully she headed for astrometrics, each step becoming harder, the desire to turn back and go to him seeming to increase until she actually came to a halt. Several crewmen passed, glancing at her with curiosity or concern, but none spoke to her.
    She felt trapped between two opposing forces: on the one hand the Doctor, offering companionship, understanding... love; and on the other the fear of what might happen to her if something was to go wrong. In a flash of self-revelation she suddenly understood the origin of her fear: the death of One. She had kept all the grief and anger hidden inside, and perhaps only the Doctor had ever suspected how deeply the events had affected her. Only he had seen the shock and distress as she'd turned away from the shell lying on the bed -- the shell that had contained the life which had become so important to her, but was now suddenly, incomprehensibly empty. Only he had seen her reeling about sickbay in confusion, unable to understand how the being she had started to think of as her son could be gone forever, could never be anything more than a memory now. Within minutes she had locked it all away deep inside, leaving only the weary resignation outwardly visible to others... and now she felt close to tears, as she always did on those rare occasions when her mind betrayed her in an unguarded moment and turned to contemplation of One's brief existence. She needn't have felt all that anguish and loss, except for the fact that the tender, compassionate nature that hid behind her mask of efficiency and self-confidence had been stirred, had started to feel the first awakenings of love... and now it was happening to her again. She couldn't bear the thought of somehow losing the Doctor, of going through that pain again; and yet, at the same time, she knew just how much she was denying herself by rejecting him. She could see no way out of her dilemma, and she sensed that either way, any free will she might exercise in the decision would be subjugated by her raw emotions anyway.
    Two more crewmen passed, eyeing her cautiously, and she felt a sudden burst of anger. They could see that she was in distress: why did no one offer her assistance? Squaring her shoulders and drawing in a deep breath she resumed her walk to astrometrics, allowing herself to wallow in her resentment, drawing strength from it, letting it block out her self-doubt and confusion, even while knowing it was only a temporary solution.

    On the bridge a relaxed, easy atmosphere prevailed. They'd had a quiet few days and everyone was feeling in good spirits -- virtually everyone.
    "Admit it, Tuvok," Paris said with his usual gentle mockery, "Harry had you beat!"
    The Vulcan raised an eyebrow, the barest hint of irritation on his face. "Ensign Kim did not 'have me beat', as you put it," he said, the inverted commas clearly audible, "The game was a draw."
    "Ha! You had to play for a draw, 'cause he had you beat, and you know it."
    "Playing to an impasse is a perfectly acceptable strategy, and I see no reason to discuss the matter further, ensign."
    The Captain leaned towards her first officer and spoke sotto voce. "If I didn't know better, I'd say Tuvok was embarrassed."
    A wicked grin creased Chakotay's face. "Perhaps you two should have a rematch."
    "Yeah," Paris chimed-in. "My money's on Harry."
    Kim looked across at the Vulcan. "What do you say, Tuvok -- rematch?"
    For a moment he didn't reply, seeming to consider his options; then he firmly spoke a single word. "No."
    The bridge erupted into laughter, which Tuvok didn't deign to acknowledge, merely looking down at his displays. A few seconds later, however, he looked up at Kim, his annoyance palpable. "Ensign, are we not receiving a transmission?"
    Gulping, Kim worked at his station. "Captain, we're receiving an automated distress signal -- audio only."
    The atmosphere immediately became subdued and disciplined.
    "Let's hear it," the Captain ordered, rising to her feet.
    "...trapped. Please... help us..." Though distorted by interference, the desperation in the voice was clear. "This is Foreman Kresk of Kargon mining colony sixteen. We urgently require assistance: we have dozens of casualties and one-hundred-and-twelve workers trapped. Please... help us... This is Foreman Kresk of..." At a signal from Janeway, Kim switched off the transmission.
    "Can you get a fix on their position?"
    "Yes: a binary system... four light years away."
    "Open a channel."
    "Channel open."
    "This is Captain Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager responding to your distress call." After a few seconds of silent tension she turned to Kim. "Are they receiving?"
    "I can't tell." He frowned in concentration as he worked, but was unable to amplify.
    "Keep trying to raise them.
    "Tom, set a course, maximum warp." Janeway turned briskly to Chakotay. "I'm going to see if Seven knows anything about this. I'll be in astrometrics if there are any developments."
    Chakotay nodded, barely suppressing a grin despite the situation: Kathryn thrived on an emergency.

    "Species six-eight-three-nine: Kargon."
    On the viewscreen various data cycled: tables, diagrams; a bulky, muscular depiction of the species rotated through three-hundred-and-sixty degrees.
    "Technologically similar to the Malon; heavily industrialised; their economy depends on their dilithium-mining operations."
    "I hope they're a bit more friendly than the Malon."
    "They are non-confrontational, but do have strong defensive capabilities."
    "The message mentioned trapped workers... a cave-in perhaps."
    "A reasonable assumption."
    "We'll need phaser-drills, medical teams..." Janeway turned her back on the viewscreen and leaned against the console, her searching gaze suddenly making Seven feel uncomfortable. "You may have to work closely with the Doctor."
    Swallowing, Seven looked away; realising she was fidgeting nervously, she forced herself into a rigid posture. "Your point." Her tone was harsher than she'd intended, but she knew that the Captain would realise that she wasn't being deliberately contentious.
    "Can you handle it? We could be going into an extremely dangerous situation; I need everyone working at peak efficiency."
    "My... problems with the Doctor will not affect my abilities." Suddenly she was feeling the same heat in her face that she'd felt in sickbay. Seeing Janeway's look of surprise she put a hand to her cheek, but couldn't feel anything amiss. "Captain, what is wrong with my face?"
    Janeway smiled warmly in a manner she recognised as maternal. "You're blushing."
    "Blushing." She had observed the phenomenon on occasion, but couldn't keep the incredulity from her voice.
    Janeway patted her shoulder. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."
    Seven sighed. It seemed that her self-control was continuing to deteriorate. Would she become as undisciplined as Lieutenant Torres? She shuddered inwardly at the thought.
    "Seven..." Kathryn paused, wanting to offer her advice, ease her mind somehow, but not sure what she could say that hadn't been said before. "You know your feelings for the Doctor aren't just going to go away."
    Seven's shoulders slumped as she replied in a small, almost plaintive voice. "Perhaps... eventually they will."
    Kathryn suddenly felt deeply moved that Seven was letting her see her in such an unguarded moment. She squeezed her shoulder gently, trying to show that she wasn't alone. "Perhaps... but you don't really want that do you?"
    Seven closed her eyes momentarily before replying so softly it was almost a whisper. "No, I don't."
Kathryn waited, knowing that she wanted to say more. The younger woman looked so forlorn she had to resist the urge to hug her, knowing it would only increase her discomfort.
    "The Doctor's existence seem so... fragile. His life is totally dependent on the technology that sustains him. What if that technology was to fail? I... I would lose him."
    Kathryn knew how difficult it had been for her to say those words, and she found herself momentarily taken aback. She hadn't realised how concrete -- how specific -- Seven's fears were; and she felt slightly foolish at being surprised: Seven's nature was steeped in order; her every utterance, even the way she moved was filled with a precision that she'd come to admire as elegant, even if some found it intimidating. It suddenly seemed thoughtless of her to have assumed that Seven's fears were nebulous or half-realised, and it was with a guilty start that Kathryn remembered that her protégé had already lost someone important to her, and with that, she finally understood why Seven was so reluctant to give in to her desires.
    "Chakotay to Janeway."
    Reluctantly she tapped her comm-badge. "Go ahead."
    "We've made contact with the mining colony."
    She could see Seven's relief at having something other than her own problems to worry about, and she felt an obscure sense of shame, as if she'd somehow let the younger woman down.
    "We're on our way."

To Be Continued