Home Remedies
Through all of Ensign Max Conley's research on the Borg and their pursuit of perfection, he was always left with two lasting questions: What does perfection look like to a cybernetic culture made of thousands of species? And why don't they realize it looks like 7 of 9? Granted, the latter question never entered the stellar cartographer's mind until Seven became a crewmember here on Voyager, but after long days and nights studying star charts together, her idyllic beauty made the question impossible to ignore. "Ensign?" Seven asked. "Hmm?" Conley said, taking a second to realize the time spent in his head and made him miss a significant portion of their conversation. "You appear to be deep in thought. Has your analysis found any potential subspace pathways?" The ensign turned to Seven, who, in turn, had pivoted to face him from her position at the primary control situated in front of the virtual screen of her lab. Her right eyebrow cocked, an