VOY - Spirit Walk 1 - Old Wounds (c) by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek [Star Trek]
Language: deu
Format: epub
Tags: \Star Trek
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2011-01-02T07:58:46.724000+00:00

After his disappointing evening, the Doctor glumly returned to his apartment, which had been specially equipped with holographic emitters throughout. There was a message waiting for him. He scowled at the blinking light, as if it were the source of all his troubles, then he ignored it. He didn’t care who it was. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sighing heavily, he threw himself onto the couch, covered his face with his arms, and wallowed in his wretchedness.

“A dismal universal hiss, the sound of public scorn,” he muttered, quoting Milton.

In all his years of activation, he had never been so spurned. Not even his time in prison compared to the anguish and humiliation he had endured over the last three hours. The worst thing about it was that he knew full well that none of it had been meant in malice. They weren’t trying to make him feel dreadful—they just did.

His computer beeped again. He rolled over and covered his ears with the pillow.

“Go away and leave me to my misery,” he muttered.

The beeping continued. There was only one person in the galaxy with that kind of stubborn patience, and even as he cringed from the thought of talking to her, he knew he wanted very much to see her face.

At last, steeling himself, he went to the computer.

“Doctor.” It was, as he had known it would be, Seven of Nine.

“Seven,” he said, imitating her stiff manner.

“It is my understanding that your speech was not well received.”

He looked away. “I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind. I am transporting over.” And just that quickly the transmission ended and there was a hum in his living room.

The Doctor folded his arms and tried to look annoyed, but was too glad to see her for the pretense to be believable. He was always glad to see her, even though he saw her every day.

She was dressed in more casual clothes than she wore to their place of work, and she was wearing her hair loose. But her manner was as stiff as usual.

She got straight to the point.

“It has been my experience that for humans, a common way to acknowledge distressing passages in their lives is to participate in an activity called ‘drowning their sorrows.’ This usually consists of imbibing alcoholic beverages and interfacing with members of their collective who do not object to their somewhat maudlin behavior. Should you wish to acknowledge your disappointing reception among your peers this evening in such a ritual fashion, I will agree to accompany you.”

“Somehow, I think that was intended to make me feel better,” the Doctor said.

Seven arched a blond eyebrow.

“I don’t drink, Seven,” he said, both moved and exasperated by her. “I can’t. Well, not the way you’re referring to, anyway.”

“Nonetheless, you have been known to exhibit maudlin behavior. I will tolerate it if it assists you in regaining your usual equilibrium. Our group needs you operating at full capacity if we are to continue to maintain our high standards of intellectual discernment and offer our full assistance to the Federation.

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