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Days had passed since the destruction of the Borg cube and Voyager was now traveling once again toward home. Without missing duty or neglecting his responsibilities, it was clear Chakotay was still processing the recent events. He'd been quieter than normal, keeping his responses to the necessary minimum. He'd also shown little of himself in the mess hall. Like the last three evenings before, the solitude of his quarters had won out over the company of others. Silently, he watched the stars race past the view port. The voices of his ancestors called to him. Uncharacteristically, he ignored them.

Date: 2017-04-10 01:46 am (UTC)
directives: (┅ xxix.)
From: [personal profile] directives
"As do I," she admitted with some reluctance.

Her hand fell away from his arm so she could take a step to the side, pacing a bit in front of the door.

"I went through all of it," Kathryn told him. "I even combed through archived entries from lower deck crewmen who were aboard the Enterprise when Q first flung them out into the path of that cube. None of it has given me any insight on how to help you or handle the Borg while in such close proximity to their native hunting grounds, so to speak."

Not even Captain Picard's experiences. Of course, the flagship's captain words were overshadowed by the rightful fury he felt towards the Collective for the violations he suffered at their hands. His words were invaluable, but ultimately unhelpful.

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