Some malfunction had occurred. Of this Seven of Nine was sure. For an hour her eyes had remained lost in the image on the viewscreen. At times they blurred. At others, they briefly closed. No amount of will could force them to refocus on the display pad that lie at her fingertips.

The doors of Astrometrics opening to the rear broke her mental stagnation.

Her gaze snapped down and she began to work the computer interface without conscious thought. The metal encased tips of her left hand stumbled over the buttons, sometimes missing their mark. She rested her right on the console frame and leaned heavily.

The new First Officer of Voyager approached her from the side. His eyes seemed to drift towards the planetary image as well. "Report".

Seven squared her shoulders and purposefully latched her hands behind her back. "The Away Teams are continuing to work with Search and Rescue. 23,349 are confirmed dead. Another 292,230 are listed as missing. The probability of finding survivors at this time however are negligible." Without pretense, she also stated. "You could have requested this information from the Bridge."

"The Captain asked me to check on your physical condition," he responded with equal candor.

"You may inform the Captain that I am functional." After a momentary pause, she pivoted toward him briefly, her mouth open to continue. Without another word, she abruptly turned back.

"There is more," the Vulcan observed.

"Yes," she admitted reluctantly. "I am... confused."

He waited patiently for her to continue. When no further explanation was forthcoming, he prompted her. "How so?" he asked gently.

"Thousands have died on the surface of this planet. Many more are suffering the lose of loved ones. By any measure of the term, the event and it's results constitute a major catastrophe. Despite the magnitude of these events, my thoughts are distracted. Instead of focusing on the multitudes, I am consumed by the memory of one. His face is ever present. He is no longer alive, but yet he remains."

"Commander Chakotay," Tuvok said.

Seven offered a curt nod. "It isn't logical," she whispered, sadness in her voice.

"Love rarely is, Seven."