<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 24pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;">SEVEN</span></span></div><div align="center">---Current Location: Kara's Quarters---</div><br/>Another pause.  Listening.<em>Hearing.</em>"Few civilized species have ever made direct visual contact with The Most Glorious One.  My kin remain in Unoccupied Space whenever we are able, consuming material that will not be missed.  Cultivating.  Replicating.  Populating.  Expanding.  We are considered an anomaly among terrestrial races, who will never know the comfort of a Parent's eternal heartbeat resounding within them, or the joy of a Chorus without Beginning or End.  They do not understand.  They fear.  They fear that our God is one of hatefulness and gluttony.  They know they could not stop us if this were so, and so they allow us to live on in isolation.  We are content."<br/><br/>Apparently emboldened by Kara's lack of visible disgust at his touch, Seven began idly feeling at her hair again, allowing it to slip gracefully between his fingers.  "There is a word in your language that was difficult for me to understand.  For<em>Us</em>to understand.  That word is...Alone.  People--individuals--feel Fear when they believe themselves to be alone.  But until we discovered other species, it was a concept alien to us.  We feel no Fear.  No sense of solitude.  This estranges us all the more."<br/><br/>"I am the first to make physical contact with a sentient alien race.  Though it is not the purpose of my mission, I am honored to have been given this opportunity.  And, should a day come where we our brought near to my God again, I think you would be allowed to bask in its magnificence."<br/><br/>Seven's head craned to one side, bobbing rhythmically like a cork in a glass of water.  "Though, not in the Castiel.  A ship of our own.  Once trapped in the gravitational field of the Most Glorious Ultothar, it would be incapable of exiting under its own power.  It is of a scale previously undreamed of by your people.  If it would please you, you may yet see it with your own eyes."<br/><br/>A gurgling sound welled up from his throat.  Or perhaps a warble.  A laugh?  It was difficult to tell.  "Hair is unique.  It is something strange and...beautiful.  Lustrous, when maintained as diligently as your own.  It should be preserved.  Grown.  Is it not used to attract mates?"