Seven doesn't usually talk like She-Hulk. Better pull out the tricorder...

You raise an eyebrow, more disturbed by the previous exchange than by the solicitation for sex. Pulling out your tricorder, you flip it open.

"Okay, Seven. Just hang tight a second..." As you scan her up and down, you notice something's not quite right. "Yeah...looks like some radiation from the asteroid field is messing with your ocular implant. We'd better get you back to the cargo bay to run a diagnostic."

"But...Seven...want...sex..." she stammers, a bit of drool spilling onto her chin.

Taking her hand, you start leading her through the hallway, toward the turbolift. "Yes. And broccoli. You want broccoli, too, don't you Seven?"

"Yes...broccoli...is good, yes?"

"Yes," you say, entering the turbolift. "Cargo bay two," you say, the doors hissing shut as you stand, holding her stupefied frame up as she starts slumping over. You inhale sharply as her breasts press into your arms. It WOULD be a perfect opportunity to take advantage of her, but, really, like this? It'd be like fucking Rainman.

"Here we are," you say, leading her into the cargo bay and back to her regeneration alcove. "And not that you'll remember, but you'll SO owe me..."