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Chapter Text

Prologue

Beta Quadrant – 2246

Stardate 621.7

IKS 'Iw Batlh

The IKS 'Iw Batlh glided silently and invisibly through space. A Federation ship was studying an asteroid belt point two light years away but the 'Iw Batlh's crew paid it no mind. Let the Federation investigate dead rocks; they were after something much more interesting. Cloak still engaged, they skirted the G'thlAn system, or what the Federation called Ajilon. Ahead appeared nothing but empty space but Captain Jolran knew better. It was no coincidence that the Kobayashi Maru had met its demise here.

Jolran gave the command for all stop and pulled down his targeting scope. It was difficult to land a hit on something you couldn't see but the information was very specific. He sighted the two distant stars he'd been told to look for and called the coordinates to the weapons officer. “Fire!”

The golden gleam of a torpedo shot forward on the small view screen, dwindling in size until it was almost impossible to tell from the stars. One of the younger officers muttered something and Jolran turned on him, intending to teach the whelp a lesson about doubting one's superiors. Before he could draw his dagger, the empty space on the view screen suddenly turned a brilliant red hue and Jolran had to clutch at a console to keep from being thrown to the deck as the ship rocked violently. Alarms wailed and Jolran opened his mouth to order them shut off.

He never got the chance as the red light seemed to flow right through the view screen and creep across the bridge like a fog of blood. Screams echoed across the small bridge as the red mist enveloped his helmsman and navigator. Their cries were cut off abruptly as they slumped and vanished beneath the creeping menace. Jolran snarled – they were young and didn't know how to meet death with dignity. And then the blood red mist was swirling around his ankles, up to his knees, his thighs . . . He clung to the console, determined to stay upright even as the stuff sucked the very strength from his legs.

Then he looked down and saw that it was not the strength that was gone but his legs. It was then than Jolran screamed.

@>-----\--------,------

Beta quadrant – 2246

Stardate 621.8

USS Halifax

Lt. Micah Ramon of the USS Halifax stared at his science console a beat, unable to believe what his eyes were telling him. “Sir! A Klingon bird-of-prey just de-cloaked!”

“On screen!” Captain Matthew Hall moved to his command seat even as Lt. Ramon followed his order. “Shields up!”

The view screen flicked from the detailed view of the asteroid they'd been probing for dilithium to the Klingon ship. A red glow seemed to emanate from the from bird-of-prey. “What is that? The build up for some new weapon?” Captain Hall turned to Micah for answers, but Micah had none.

“Captain!” The tactical officer's voice was stressed. “Shields are not responding.”

“Bridge to Engineering! We need shields!” Hall leapt up from his seat and was heading for the science station.

Micah looked frantically from the weird red glow on the view screen to his panel. “I, uh, I don't know what it is, sir.” He tightened the bandwidth trying to draw more detailed information by targeting the sensors for precisely. “The ship, it's coming apart!” He looked up at the view screen, fear etching his features.

On the screen, the Klingon ship seemed almost alive. Micah had once seen his cat catch a bird once, and the bird had chirped desperately as it fluttered and fought for life. The wings had twitched and stretched as its feet scrabbled for purchase on anything. That's what the Klingon ship looked to Micah now as tremors rippled along it hull. The ship bowed in the middle, then snapped back. Another visible tremor made the distressed ship seem to vibrate and expand, like a bloating corpse, before suddenly collapsing in on itself and vanishing in a twinkling of reddish light.

“Mr. Ramon, what the hell was that?!” Captain Hall was peering over his shoulder but Micah was as baffled by the readings as he was. Only seconds ago, virtually every type of radiation, harmful or benign, had been off the charts and wave patterns that Micah had never seen before had been dancing and pulsing across the terminal. But the moment the other ship vanished, the reading were gone. The only things the sensors showed now was the typical background radiation of the universe and scattered motes of space dust. There wasn't so much as a sliver of duranium hull plating on sensors.

Chapter Text

Chapter One

Alpha Quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54975.8

Earth

“She's sympathetic. We can't trust her to do what's right.”

“The Ice Queen? You've got to be joking, Neil; everyone knows she's married to the 'Fleet.”

“She's married to out-dated ideals, the kind of ideals that landed us in the war in first place.”

“The Dominion would have attacked no matter what.”

“Not if we took a more aggressive stance. We sit here, like old women, thinking we're safe, even as the wolves are at the door. And when they pounce . . . Well, the casualty lists speak for themselves.”

“I hardly think a handful of former terrorists poses a threat.”

“Not a physical one, maybe, but a threat nonetheless. If we deal with them as the terrorists they are, it sends a strong message to our allies and our enemies that we will deal harshly with those who would dare attack us. They committed crimes and those crimes must be punished.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Simply that the galaxy is a very dangerous place. Even in the Federation.”

@>---\---,-----

Alpha quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54976.1

USS Voyager

Kathryn Janeway reclined on the lounger in the living room of her quarters, a book open on her lap. Her attention was not on the book however, but on a tiny pinprick of light almost dead ahead of her ship. Voyager was inside the Oort cloud now, on a steady, if sedate, course for Earth. She couldn't see Earth just yet, but she knew that slowly growing point of light was Sol.

Voyager had arrived back in the Alpha Quadrant less than six hours ago, bursting out of a disintegrating Borg sphere before a gathered fleet of dozens of starships. Having expected a Borg invasion, the ships and their crews had been understandably startled by the appearance of Voyager and the almost simultaneous collapse of the transwarp conduit from which they'd just emerged.

After the basic formalities had been observed, Voyager had been directed to Earth where her crew could be welcomed home. As much as Janeway would have liked to jump to warp five and arrive NOW, they had been ordered to proceed at impulse. On the periphery of the viewports, Kathryn could just see the bows of the Atalanta and the Lucerne, two of four starships that were escorting them on this last, slow, leg of the long voyage home.

Janeway's first reaction at the orders had been anger and she'd very nearly lashed out at Owen Paris. Her crew had not seen their homes in over seven years and even a minor delay at this late hour seemed a great injustice. The admiral had apparently read her mood because he'd been quick to cite the procedure as a way of conferring honour on the returning ship. Voyager's odyssey was known to almost every crew in the 'Fleet and the other ships wanted to give Voyager's journey the respect it deserved.

The thought had placated her for a while and when Alpha shift had ended, she'd retired to her quarters to relax until they were nearing Mars. She had picked up her copy of La Vitae Nuova, wondering what “new life” she might find herself living now, but she'd barely managed two pages before a nagging doubt had assailed her and the book had fallen to her lap, forgotten.  

Abruptly, she surged to her feet, heedless of the book as it thudded to the deck. Grabbing her uniform jacket from where she'd draped it on the back of a chair, she marched out of her quarters and headed for the bridge.  

If Tuvok was surprised to see her, he gave no indication. She pre-empted any announcement of her arrival by issuing a terse, “As you were,” and announcing that she would be in her ready room if needed.

The doors slid shut behind her, blocking the everyday sounds of the bridge. She got a fresh cup of coffee from the replicator, then settled behind her desk and powered up her monitor. After being ordered to proceed at impulse, they'd also been requested to abstain from personal comm calls, with the excuse that Starfleet wanted gather as many of their friends and family as they could on short notice for some sort of homecoming celebration. She hadn't thought much of it, figuring she'd be speaking to her mother in person soon enough, but it had quickly occurred to her that there were a good many of Voyager's crew whose families were not on Earth. Some of those, she knew, had never had the opportunity to talk to their relatives via Pathfinder. To keep those individuals waiting still longer . . .

“Computer, locate Commander Chakotay.” She didn't have anything concrete to go on and she trusted that he would be able to reassure her if she was over reacting to simple displays of honour and protocol. And if she wasn't, she was sure she could rely on him to help her brainstorm a plan to protect their crew.

“Commander Chakotay is in his quarters.”

She opened her mouth to summon him, before recalling that he might have another demand on his time. “Computer, where is Seven of Nine?”

“Seven of Nine is in astrometrics.”

She let out a breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding. At least she wouldn't be interrupting them. “Janeway to Chakotay.”

“Chakotay here, Captain.” The reply cam promptly and she wondered if he'd been struggling with questions as she had.

“Could you join me in the ready room, Commander? There are a few things I'd like to discuss with you.”

“Of course, Captain.” His voice betrayed little but she thought he sounded just a bit surprised at the summons. Perhaps she was off base on her suspicions but she didn't think so.

A few minutes later, the door chime sounded and she called for Chakotay to enter. To her surprise, he entered from the corridor rather than the bridge. She raised her brows in question.

“I didn't want to alarm the bridge crew.”

She couldn't help but smile at that, remembering the curious looks that had followed her from turbolift to ready room when she'd arrived. “Hm, yes, I see your point.” She stood and moved to the replicator to refresh her coffee. “Can I get you anything?”

“Coffee's fine.”

“Cream and sugar?” She tossed him a teasing smile over her shoulder. They'd had more than one discussion on his preference for polluting her favorite beverage.

“Black is fine.”

She paused and turned toward him, surprised. “Black?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I don't always like it light and sweet. I just find it easier to sleep if I don't have it black late in the day.” He flashed an apologetic grin.

Kathryn nodded thoughtfully before she retrieved their beverages from the replicator. She carried them over to the seating area. “Could you get my console, please?”

Chakotay obligingly brought the terminal from her desk and traded it for his cup of coffee.

“What did you want to discuss?”

She took a sip and regarded him over the edge of her mug. Now that it was down to it, she felt a trifle foolish. “Does anything,” and she waved her free hand to encompass the ready room, the ship, and the Alpha quadrant, “seem a bit off to you? I can't put my finger on it but I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Chakotay leaned back against the sofa cushions, sipping his coffee thoughtfully. They'd barely had time to think since Admiral Janeway had appeared and their flight through the transwarp conduits hadn't put an end to the harried pace. They'd arrived in the Alpha quadrant only to find themselves facing a line of starship with weapons at the ready. For a moment, he'd thought they might start shooting but then Admiral Paris had appeared on the screen. And after that brief exchange, they'd been ordered to set course for earth and Kathryn had dismissed the senior staff, most of whom had pulled a double shift preparing for the transwarp adventure, to rest for the six hours it would take to approach Earth at impulse speeds.

He'd walked Seven back to astrometrics before heading for his own quarters. He shed his uniform jacket and had attempted to contact his spirit guide but had been too keyed up to enter the trance, even with the aid of the akoonah. He'd given up after a half hour and had settled for reading until Kathryn had summoned him.

He glanced out the window and saw the Atalanta to starboard. The Lucerne had dominated the viewports in his quarters. They did seem to be following rather close for an honour guard, but few ships had been accorded one in recent history so it was hard to tell.

“Just being back in the Alpha quadrant is a bit surreal all by itself. I'm not sure anyone has really had a chance to take it in yet.” His eyes narrowed and he set his coffee on the low table. In seven years he'd gotten to know Kathryn Janeway pretty well, enough to know that her hunches were usually right. “Has Starfleet said anything?”

She shook her head. “Not since ordering the approach and comm silence.” Her slim fingers traced the lip of her mug. “I think that's the part that disturbs me the most. Hayes claimed it was to allow them to arrange the welcome home fanfare without having reporters underfoot but I hardly think anyone's mother or brother will be hopping off the comm with a long-lost loved one to notify the Fed News.”

“No, I suppose you're right about that. Are you thinking of breaking comm silence?” He was sure the subspace emitter array would be jammed with signals almost as soon as she gave the all clear.

“No . . . If there is something going on, I don't want to tip our hat too soon.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose in a vain attempt to stave off the building headache. “Do you think Seven could use Borg algorithms to encrypt all our personal logs? I've been sending the official logs regularly via Pathfinder, so there's nothing that can be done about them, but I don't want anyone finding themselves in hot water because some Admiral gets bug up his ass on account of an injudicious word.”

“I would assume she could. You think they'll read our personal logs?” It wasn't standard procedure - personal logs were supposed to be just that - but then having a starship return after seven years on the far side of the galaxy was hardly standard procedure either.

“I don't know. I'd like to think they wouldn't, but I'd rather be safe than sorry.” She gave Chakotay a wan smile. He'd originally left Starfleet when they betrayed their own ideals by selling of his and other colonies to the Cardassians. That Starfleet might again betray their principles to the detriment of their crew would surely rankle. “Janeway to Astrometrics.”

“Seven here, Captain.” As usual, the former drone's voice was clipped and cool.

“Seven, would you come to the ready room, please? I have a task for you.”

“Of course, Captain. I will be there shortly. Seven out.”

Janeway turned back to Chakotay. “Beyond the logs, can you think of anything else we should protect?”

Chakotay considered for a moment. “We've brought back a lot of technology and gigaquads of information. There might be a way to use some of it as a bargaining chip.” He picked up a PADD and skimmed it. “How much does 'Fleet know about the slipstream drive.”

Sensing where he was going, Janeway's eye's sparked. “The datastream was at a premium and I prioritized crew communications over official reports. Starfleet knows we've experimented with a slipstream drive, but they don't know how we managed it or what info we collected from the attempt. I figured on having years to update and expand on the information.”

“Good. We can use that.”

Bree-boop

They looked at each other, then the door, slightly startled. After half a moment's hesitation, Janeway called for entry and Seven entered from the bridge.

“Captain, Commander.” If she was surprised to see Chakotay, she didn't show it.

“Thank you from coming so promptly, Seven.” Janeway picked up a PADD and glanced at it before offering it to the ex-Borg. “I would like you to use some of your Borg encryption algorithms on the files listed there.”

“These are the crew's personal logs.”

“Yes. I'm concerned that they might become a liability.”

“You believe Starfleet may violate the crew's privacy by reviewing these?” Seven's non-Borg-enhanced eyebrow lifted. “You are concerned that there may be trouble due to our precipitous arrival.”

Janeway started to answer but Chakotay caught her eye as he stood. “Yes, Seven. The Captain feels that the reception we've received thus far has been a bit suspect and after review, I'm inclined to agree.” He touched her shoulder gently, and she offered a hesitant smile. “We don't want to alarm the crew unnecessarily, but a few precautions are in order. The captain and I are going to continue going over information that may be of value to Starfleet and, if possible, we may ask you to mask or encrypt further data.”

“I understand. But will not the crew be alerted if they try to make new entries and the logs are inaccessible?”

Chakotay looked surprised and glanced at Janeway.

“Yes, that is a thought.” Janeway considered momentarily. “Would it be possible to encrypt and possibly mask the archives without blocking new input?”

Seven cocked her head slightly. “I believe it is possible, but it would leave the files open to potential corruption.”

“For now, I think that's the best option. We can lock them down later if needed. Of course, if it comes to that, I will inform the crew.”

“Very well, Captain. Permission to return to Astrometrics?”

“Yes, you're dismissed, Seven.”

Seven nodded, then glanced at Chakotay. “This project may take some time. I will call you to reschedule our dinner.” The blonde turned and left.

Chakotay slowly returned to his seat, reluctant to look at Janeway. He and Seven had kept their nascent relationship discrete but he was sure that Seven's casual mention of a dinner appointment would prick Janeway's attention. Many years ago, he'd thought that there might have been something between he and Kathryn, but though they'd developed a close friendship, nothing more had every materialized.

When Seven had initially approached him about lunch, he hadn't thought much of it. It wasn't until the next day when she approached him for a dinner date that he'd started to wonder if she was interested in more than just expanding her social horizons. Since the Doctor had made his declaration of love, he'd figured that Seven was looking elsewhere for a social coach to avoid the awkwardness. But then she'd followed up the lunch and dinner invites with an intimate picnic in the cargo bay.

His first instinct had been to let her down gently, but duty had prevented him from following through immediately and gave him a chance to think. Seven really had changed since she'd first come on board – she wouldn't have been able to bond with the little Ventu girl if she'd still been the abrasive woman he'd first known her as – and as much as he didn't want to admit it, any opportunity for him and Janeway seemed to have passed them by. So he'd gone to the picnic and been pleasantly surprised in having enjoyed himself. Until now though, he hadn't thought very hard about exactly why he'd encouraged Seven to keep the relationship between them.

When Janeway said nothing, he glanced up and found her apparently engrossed in another PADD. He frowned, somewhat put out that she hadn't even remarked on it. And yet, he hadn't wanted to discuss it. Annoyed with himself, he picked up another PADD and began scrolling through the contents which seemed to be one of the most recent transmissions they'd received via Pathfinder. After trying to read it for a few minutes, he realized he hadn't absorbed anything it said and sat back with a frustrated sigh.

Janeway glanced up. “Something wrong?”

“No.” Resolving to put her disinterest out of mind, he focused on the PADD again. He didn't need, or want, her approval anyhow.

For her part, Janeway had noticed Seven's comment but did not feel it was her place to question. If, at one point, she had thought that perhaps there would be a chance for her and Chakotay once they were home, well, it had been a long time ago and she could hardly blame him for moving on. Certainly she'd never given him any hint that she would be interested in pursuing a relationship in the future, nor was she interested in acting like a chaperone. For one thing, Seven hardly needed one, and for another, it simply wasn't a position she wanted to put herself in.

“Bridge to Captain Janeway.” Harry's voice rang suddenly in silence of the ready room. Janeway looked up, pursing her lips momentarily, the only outward sign of her annoyance.

“Janeway here.”

“Captain, we're being hailed by an Admiral Hayes?”

Chakotay met Janeway's gaze, his eyes betraying his surprise. They'd been working independently, going over logs and trying to make sure they had everything in place in case the Captain's presentiments of alarm turned out to be well founded.

Janeway stood but waved for Chakotay to remain where he was. “Patch it through to my ready room, Ensign.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Harry response elicited a ghost of a smile as Janeway took her terminal back to her desk and settled in. She met Chakotay's eyes for a fraction of a second before she activated the comm channel.

“Admiral Hayes, a pleasure to see you, sir.” She gave him the thin smile she typically reserved for smarmy planetary leaders that thought she was a push over because of her diminutive stature. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chakotay relocated to one of the chairs in front of the desk, where he could listen to the conversation unobtrusively. She was glad that he'd understood her tacit request but long practice ensured that her expression betrayed nothing of his presence.

“Yes, we didn't expect to be seeing Voyager amongst our stars again so soon. Congratulations, it's quite a feat.”

The admiral shifted slightly and Janeway narrowed her eyes. Admiral Jeremiah Hayes had been a contemporary of her father and while she didn't know him as well as Admirals Paris and Patterson, she could tell she wouldn't like what was coming.

“We didn't expect to be returning quite so soon ourselves, but the Borg were kind enough to give us a lift.” She softened her smile slightly, letting him think she was oblivious to his discomfort and ignorant of anything being off. She wondered what Chakotay was thinking but didn't dare shift her eyes to check.

“Hm, yes. You made quite the entrance. I imagine those officers who witnessed it in person will be dining out on that story for good while.” He leaned in slightly and Janeway dropped the pretense of ignorance.

“Is there something wrong, Admiral?” The same knot in her stomach that had sent her back on duty hours before she was due was back with a vengeance. Hayes was bordering on bluntness and his economy of words was in stark contrast with his usual verbosity. She'd almost convinced herself that she was being paranoid, even as she and Chakotay worked to be sure every “i” was dotted and every “t” was crossed. The urge to check in with Chakotay was almost overwhelming.

“Not really, just inconvenient. We pulled the fleet together when the initial Borg signature was detected, but we're spread a bit thin. Normally, I'd be happy to seen the entire fleet come in to welcome you all home, but the war has left our part of the galaxy in a bit of a state. I don't know how much you were privy to via Pathfinder, but tensions with the Klingons are running high and much of the Alpha quadrant is in desperate need of aid. The Fleet is run ragged delivering supplies to planets and colonies that were in the path of the Dominion.”

“We'd heard some of it, mostly bits and pieces from friends and family. The official communications focused mostly on our progress.” The massacre at Tevlik was one of the first things to came to mind and she met Chakotay's gave over the top of the terminal before returning her attention to Hayes.

“Yes, well, I'm sure you'll hear more than you ever wanted know that you're back. But that rather brings me to the point of this call.” He shifted again and the knot in Janeway's stomach tightened again. “As I said, we're spread rather thin. Do you recall the disappearance of the Timgad?”

Janeway frowned momentarily, the name ringing a distant bell. “She disappeared with all hands in the early 60s, didn't she?”

“Yes. She was an Academy training vessel, conducting practical research near the Klingon border. Just last week, another ship went missing in the same area. I hate to do it; I know you and your crew must be eager to see their loved ones, but I have to ask you to go check it out.”

“Sir, we've just arrived after seven years . . .”

“Yes, I know and like I said, I hate to do it but we really are that thin, Captain. I'm transmitting the Shamhbala's last know coordinates now. With any luck, you'll be landing on the Presidio inside of a week.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Beta Quadrant – 2354

Stardate 35478.8

USS Timgad

Captain Morran stretched subtly in his command chair. After three days on the Timgad, he sorely missed his bed back in San Francisco. Apparently, he'd been out of space too long and grown soft on the creature comforts of Earth. He had a passing thought that perhaps he ought to work out more but dismissed it. The Timgad was only out for two weeks, then they'd be back in space dock and he'd be back at the Academy.

He glanced around the Timgad's bridge at his very young crew. There were only a handful of senior officers on board; himself, Commander Dugan down in engineering, Lieutenant Jodar in sickbay, and Captain T'lan in stellar cartography. The rest of the crew were senior cadets from the Academy, each one out to prove him or herself to the monitoring instructors. While the cruise wasn't exactly graded, good performance on the cruise went a good ways toward illustrating the student's ability with the practical applications of what they learned in classes. When the students graduated in eight months, many captains would weight the cruise reports as heavily as they did a student's scholastic performance when offering positions.

"Cadet Tribley, report."

Nelson Tribley was capable enough and comfortable with the tactical post he'd been assigned, but Morran thought his personality somewhat lacking. "Yes, sir. There are no bogies on sensors, shields are currently in standby but charged to 100%, phasers and torpedo banks are online and ready."

"Bogies, Mr. Tribley?"

"'Bogey' is a term we use for potential hostiles in simulations, sir."

Morran resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the young man's pedantic explanation. "Yes, Mr. Tribley, I know what 'bogies' are. I'm wondering why you are only concentrating on potential hostiles." He glanced toward the tactical station and was unsurprised that Tribley looked confused.

"This is tactical, sir. I'm supposed to be watching for potential threats to the ship."

Morran nodded, then stood and approached to the young woman who was currently at the conn. "Ms. Blessing, are you familiar with the USS Port Royal?"

Erica Blessing turned calmly in her seat. "Yes, sir. The USS Port Royal went missing in sector 83 on stardate 40271.3. It was later reported as destroyed."

"And what destroyed the Port Royal, Ms. Blessing?"

"Sir, the USS Port Royal encountered a spacial inversion ring that crushed the port nacelle and caused hull breeches on six decks. The ship suffered explosive decompression and a subsequent warp core breech. All hands were lost."

"Very good, Ms. Blessing." He turned to Cadet Hoake who was handling the Operations station. "Mr. Hoake, how might a spacial inversion ring be detected?"

Isen Hoake swallowed nervously, "Spiking tachyons in the absence of photons and neutrinos, sir?"

It was obvious that Hoake was guessing, though he'd managed to get part of it right. Morran suspected that Hoake wasn't as hopeless with astrophysics as his transcripts indicated, but the young man would definitely have to work harder in that class if he really wanted to work in Ops. An ops officer who couldn't recognized basic interstellar phenomena was about as useless as a tactical officer who only thought other ships posed a threat. "That's partly correct. Ms. Quayle, can you enlighten us?"

"Sir, a spacial inversion ring is typically signified by spiking tachyons in conjunction with high levels of gravitons, and extremely low levels of protons. Metreon radiation may also be higher than normal." Rowe Quayle ventured from her place at the science station.

"Very good, Cadet Quayle." Quiet and unassuming, Morran had come to find that Quayle had an excellent memory for definitions, though she struggled with the practical application of her knowledge.

Morran turned back to Tribley. "Would you care to change your report, Cadet Tribley?"

Tribley frowned and studied his console. "Uh, there is nothing on sensors, sir. Shields are fully charged and currently in standby, phasers and torpedoes are ready."

"Mr. Hoake?" Even if Hoake didn't know what he was seeing, he was good at reading sensors.

"I concur, sir. All readings are well within standard variations for interstellar radiation and particulate levels. Space dust is marginally higher than usual, but the deflector isn't having any problems with it."

"Cadet Blessing, what is our position?"

"We're holding at eighty-seven mark twenty-three point four, sir."

"Good. Now, Mr. Tribley, perhaps you can redeem yourself by explaining the significance of our current position?"

"Eighty-seven mark twenty-three point four is the exact position given for the location of the 'Kobayashi Maru' distress ship in the training scenario."

"Is there any further significance to the location?" Morran was less than impressed with Tribley's grasp of history.

"Sir?" Cadet Blessing spoke up from the conn. "Our current position is also the last known location of the real Kobayashi Maru, which was lost in 2245."

"Very good, Blessing." He gave a pleased nod. He wasn't overly fond of know-it-alls, any more than he was fond of dunderheads, but it seemed that when all else failed, he could count on Blessing to have an answer. "Now, most of you have probably made at least one attempt at the Kobayashi Maru scenario. Even cadets who aren't particularly interested in command usually take it out of curiosity, if for no other reason. You might be surprised to learn how many science and engineering track cadets Starfleet flags as having command potential from their Kobayashi Maru scores."

He looked around the bridge and noted that every cadet was giving him full attention. He couldn't even claim that in the popular "Theories of Command: Past and Present" lectures. "Some of them end up switching tracks of their own accord, but more often it is a mentor that convinces them to look beyond what they are comfortable with."

Quayle's hand shot up.

"Yes, cadet?"

"Can you name some of the former science or engineering cadets who went on to command?"

Morran had known the question was coming - it invariably did - and as usual it came from a science or engineering major. "Certainly. And I'll start you off with a name that most of you should know. Jean-Luc Picard." He enjoyed the subtle gasps of surprise at learning that the famous captain of Starfleet's flagship had once been a science geek. Many cadets had a certain level of hero worship toward famous captains, including Picard, Kirk, Sulu, and many others. As a result, there were always rumors and tidbits floating about campus and while many were regarded as fact, few of them made appearances in actual classes or were endorsed by professors.

"Believe it or not, prior to entering the command track, Cadet Picard was well on his way to being one of Starfleet's most noted archeologists."

"Sir?" This time it was the hapless Hoake. Morran gestured for him to speak. "Why did Captain Picard change his mind? Did he have a mentor?"

"As far as I know, he did not. What I do know is that he changed tracks in the middle of his junior year. If there was a particular even that inspired the change, it has not been recorded." He glanced around, wondering if there were any more questions. Occasionally, he was pressed for the names of others that had made the transition, but most seemed satisfied with knowing that Picard had done it. This group appeared to be filled with the latter.

Tribley's hand ventured into the air, “Sir?”

“Yes, cadet?”

“I've heard that if that gardener, Boothby, takes notice of you, that means you're destined for greatness.”

“Seeking the Boothby Blessing, are you, Tribley?” It was Morran's personal opinion that Tribley could dress up like a Nausican circus clown and do a jig in Boothby's prize rose bed and the ageing gardener would not notice the cadet. “I don't know about greatness, but he does seem to have a knack for befriending cadets with notable futures. Whether he saw something special in them, or they learned something special from him, though . . .” he shrugged.

"Alright, cadets. The reason we are out here at the location of the real Kobayashi Maru is because there is some dispute about exactly what occurred during the incident. Those of you who have taken the test are familiar with the scenario - a starship responds to a distress call from a civilian ship, the Kobayashi Maru, which has strayed too close to Klingon space and struck a graviton mine. When the starship arrives, two or three hostiles decloak. As captain of the starship in the scenario, your job is to rescue the crew and passengers from the civilian ship, which the hostiles most assuredly are against. Scores are based on how long you manage to survive.

"To a large degree, the scenario is based on real events as we know them. The Kobayashi Maru ran into trouble and sent out a distress call. The USS Roanoke responded to the SOS and, upon arrival, was faced with two Klingon birds-of-prey. The Klingons claimed the Kobayashi Maru had violated their space and according to their laws, the ship and all its contents were property of the Empire. Hostilities ensued and both the Kobayashi Maru and the Roanoke were lost." Morran settled back into the command chair.

"This series of events is based on the reports of the Roanoke's captain. Apparently knowing there was little chance of the stand-off ending well, he opened a subspace channel to the nearest Federation beacon and broadcast nearly everything that occurred on his bridge." Morran tapped a few commands into his console and the forward view screen shifted focus from the empty space outside the vessel to some battle schematics with Klingon writing.

"Early on, the Klingon high council protested that they had nothing to do with the destruction of either the Kobayashi Maru or the Roanoke, and that they had evidence to prove it. Since relations with the Klingons were strained at best, the Federation didn't believe them and the Klingons didn't seem particularly eager to pony up their so-called evidence. Last year though, the High Council transmitted the following records to the Federation. We are out here, cadets, to try and figure out if this evidence bears out our understanding of history, or if the Klingons were right and something else destroyed the Kobayashi Maru and the Roanoke.”

"But, sir . . ." Tribley frowned, "There's nothing here. Sensors just confirmed that."

"Did they?" Morran asked, amused. He knew what the cadets were thinking - it had been over a hundred years since the destruction of the Kobayashi Maru and the Roanoke and as such, any physical evidence of the encounter would have been lost long ago. Even the space dust, fine particulates of what might have been left of destroyed ships, would have been migrated far from this area by solar winds and interstellar eddies.

Hoake peered at the ops station, trying to find what they might have missed. "I concur with Cadet Tribley, sir, there's nothing here. All readings are within normal parameters; there are no graviton spikes to indicate the presence of mines, there aren't even enough hadrons or ions to signify recent Klingon weapon's fire."

Blessing turned from the conn. "Are you expecting us to analyze the particulates of space dust, sir? If the event had occurred last week or even last month, there might have been evidence of duranium ions or dilithium that could point to the destruction of a ship, but after so many years, even if we do find such particles, there's no way to definitively prove whether they came from the Kobayashi Maru or the Roanoke."

Morran nodded at each of the observations. The cadets were quite right on their points about potential physical evidence of a confrontation between Federation and Klingon ships here, but they were jumping the gun a bit as he hadn't actually said what sort of evidence they were looking for. "Those are all valid points, and if we were mopping up after a recent battle, those are the types of things we'd be looking for, but we're not."

"Then what are we looking for, sir?" Cadet Quayle piped up from the science station. No doubt she'd already scanned for all of the textbook descriptions of interstellar phenomena.

"According to the Klingons, they had been monitoring periodic spikes of verteron particles from this sector. Whether the Kobayashi Maru ventured this way in hopes of finding a wormhole is unknown, but for whatever reason, she ventured too close to the old DMZ and found herself stranded after hitting a gravity mine which disabled their engines. She then sent out a distress call which would be answered by the Roanoke.

"It has long been the assumption of the Federation that the two Klingon birds-of-prey were attracted by the distress call and intended to loot the ship as a derelict. According to the Klingon High Council, however, the two Klingon vessels were already here, investigating the verteron emissions. When they noticed the Kobayashi Maru entering the area, they cloaked. They were still waiting on orders regarding what to do with the Kobayashi Maru when the Roanoke arrived. They uncloaked to defend their territory."

"Excuse me, Captain Morran," Cadet Paige, the acting XO, spoke up for the first time, interrupting his narrative. "While the discovery of a wormhole could be exciting, I don't understand how any of this potentially changes the outcome of the incident. The Kobayashi Maru is damage, the Roanoke arrives to help, the Klingons attack, both Federation ships are lost. Whether the Klingons were already in the area or not is irrelevant." As the daughter of a diplomat, her observation was not unexpected, if premature.

"If that was all that was different about the Klingon's account, I would agree with you, Ms. Paige. However, if you had allowed me to finish what I was saying, you would learn that the Klingons maintain that they did not destroy either the Kobayashi Maru or the Roanoke in battle. Rather, they claim that the battle excited some sort of tear in subspace and the Kobayashi Maru was pulled in while the Roanoke was destroyed attempting to rescue her."

Hoake looked up from his console. "Sir, I adjusted the bandwidth on the lateral sensor array and I am picking up a very localized concentration of verteron particles. It's about two hundred kilometers off our port stern." His hand skated over the console. "I'm bring it up onscreen. The concentration is relatively minute, only three point zero three percent above normal, but couldn't that be the residue from some sort of subspace fissure? One that hadn't opened in a while?" Hoake glanced around the bridge for support.

Morran glanced at the view screen but verteron particles were invisible to the naked eye and the screen showed nothing but empty space. "Thank you, Mr. Hoake." He made a mental note to suggest further sensor training for the cadet.

"We have Mr. Hoake's theory, what else could cause a low-level localized concentration of verteron particles?" No one spoke. "Cadet Quayle, you're our resident specialist on interstellar phenomena; what do you think?"

Quayle shrugged. "I don't know, the concentration is too low to be considered outside the margin of error. Typically, verterons are associated with wormholes but this localization is too limited to really --"

"Hoake, what are you doing?!" Tribley shouted from the tactical station.

"Tribley, report!" Morran hopped the guard rail and peered over the cadet's shoulder.

"It *is* a subspace tear!" Hoake ground out. "I'm not an idiot!"

"Sir, he's reconfigured the deflector to emit a hadron beam! He's trying to open the rift!"

"Paige, override the ops console and deactivate the deflector!"

"Sir, it's too late!" Morran looked up at the view screen as the beam lanced out.

"Shields! Conn, ahead full impulse!" Morran barely registered Blessing's acknowledgement, his attention was divided by Tribley's efforts and the effects of the hadron beam.

"Shields online, but I'm reading a huge build up of verterons, gravitons, thoron radiation, and . . . dekyons?" At Ops, Hoake looked on in horror at what he'd done.

"Conn, get us out of here!" Morran pushed Tribley aside, his hands flying over the console as he tried to shut down the hadron beam and change it to something that could seal the, the . . . whatever it was.

"I'm trying, sir!"

Like a rose, a brilliant red light bloomed on the screen from the tip of the particle beam. The beam flickered, it's colour changing from green to yellow, then orange briefly before matching the ominous red of the rift.

"Sir, it's pulling us in!" Tribley half screamed in Morran ear.

"Go to warp!"

"Warp engines are offline! Impulse engines are at one hundred thirteen percent!"

The clamor of the bridge abruptly ceased as red light filled the space and then the USS Timgad vanished.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

Alpha quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54976.5

Earth

"Lieutenant, when is Voyager due to arrive in port?"

Admiral Alynna Nechayev rifled through the the handful of PADDs that her aide, Lieutenant Taavi Petral, had just handed her, looking up when the aide didn't answer right away. "Well?"

Petral, a dark-skinned individual of Human/Betazoid descent from Vico V, looked ill at ease. He was a handsome man and the impenetrably black eyes from his Betazoid forebearers shifted to focus over her head. She'd chosen him from a slew of candidates because of his usually unflappable calm. Something was definitely not right.

"Lieutenant!" She hated to do it but really, either he knew or he didn't and avoiding the question wasn't about to change it.

"Voyager has been diverted, Admiral. She was tasked with investigating the disappearance of the USS Shamhbala." He stood ramrod straight, as if he was expecting a dressing down.

Nechayev narrowed her eyes. She suspected she knew exactly who was behind this maneuver. But a rigid lieutenant statue in her office was hardly conducive to business. She was seriously beginning to question her choice of aide. "Dismissed." He relaxed marginally and performed a perfect about-face. "And Petral, I'd like to see a copy of those orders as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir."

Ten minutes later she had the requested PADD in hand. She was more than a littler surprised to find that Hayes had given the order. Usually, she considered Jeremiah to be a reasonably perspicacious individual but either she'd completely misread his opinions or he was much less intelligent than she'd given him credit for. Either way, she could hardly confront him about sending Voyager out to sector 153. If he was a patsy, approaching him would be less than useless, and if he really had that much antipathy for the Voyager's crew, questioning him might lead to further danger for the intrepid ship.

"Computer, create a new message and append files Baychimo one-five-three Alpha through Eta. For the message content, download the audio file 'Elf Knight SS'. Encrypt entire message, authorization Nechayev two-seven-nu-alpha-pi-one-eight-iota-epsilon-rho-two-eight. Release for voice authorization of Captain Kathryn Janeway, USS Voyager, NCC-74656."

"Working . . . Message created."

"Transmit to USS Voyager on secure channel and erase record, protocol Nechayev three-one-four-alpha-pi-pi-lamda-episilon. Confirm."

"Confirmed. Last message sent from this station was to Admiral Patterson, re: Yaris Nebula."

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Alpha quadrant – 2378
Stardate 54976.5
USS Voyager

After Hayes had signed off, Janeway had sat, staring at the terminal for several long minutes. On the other side of the desk, Chakotay frowned. He'd learned over the past several years to trust Janeway's instincts but he'd been hoping that perhaps they'd simply changed procedures in the aftermath of the Dominion conflict. These new orders rather but the kibosh on that theory. The crew would be sadly disappointed.

Janeway finally looked up. "Well, a least he didn't demand that I surrender the Maquis and Equinox crew. That's a good sign, right?"

Chakotay nodded slowly. "You were expecting them to?"

Janeway sighed and pushed back from her desk. "I don't know, perhaps. I never did get a clear answer on what he was looking for when he asked about the 'Maquis situation'. Owen implied that he didn't think it was an issue, but he's been so involved with the Pathfinder Project, I'm not sure he's really up on all the latest." She was tempted to help herself to another cup of coffee, but first she had an announcement to make to the crew.

Chakotay followed her onto the bridge and moved to his usual seat but did not take it. The eyes of beta crew were on them, expectant and anticipatory. “Helm, adjust course to one seven three mark four seven, impulse until we're clear of Neptune, then warp five.” She could feel the confusion as she ordered the ship to turn away from Earth. It was only a matter a time before some protested and she wasn't entirely sure she'd be able to explain on a personal level. Instead she asked Ensign Ashmore at Ops to open a channel to the entire ship.

“As you all know, we successfully used a Borg transwarp conduit to traverse the last thirty five thousand light years of our journey and arrived in the Alpha quadrant at thirteen twenty-six ship's time. For the last couple of hours, we have been on route to Earth under impulse power.

“I had hoped that I would be announcing our final arrival in a couple of hours, but we have just received new orders from Starfleet. Losses in the recent Dominion War were severe and Starfleet is short-shipped. As a result, we have been requested to divert to the Beta quadrant and investigate the recent disappearance of the USS Shambhala near the Klingon border. I am hopeful that this mission will be of quick duration and we will be landing at the Presidio in a few days.”

A quick nod to Ashmore terminated the channel and Janeway allowed a weary smile of gratitude for her crew. “I know this delay is difficult to understand in light of our long journey and I thank you all for your continued service and attention to your duty.” She nodded to Chakotay and turned to return to the ready room, “You have the bridge, Tuvok.”

“Excuse me, Captain?” Ashmore queried and Janeway turned back.

“Yes, Ensign?”

“I was wondering, are we still under comm silence? Even if we won't be arriving for a few more days, it'd be great check in with our families . . .”

“I'm afraid so, Mr. Ashmore. Our families will have to wait a bit longer to hear that we are home.” She smiled sadly. “I'm eager to speak to my mother and sister but not even the captain is exempt from the orders.” With a final glance round at the evening's bridge crew, she returned to the ready room with Chakotay.

As the doors closed behind them, she leaned on the back of one of the chairs, letting her head drop forward and her eyes close. “I hated doing that to them.”

“I know you did. And they know it, too.” She was trembling faintly when Chakotay rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “No one blames you, Kathryn. We may not all have started out as Starfleet, but we all understand orders.”

She whirled, “I don't! I don't understand these orders at all! We were so close, Chakotay . . .”

“No, not close, Kathryn. You did it! We're back in the Federation. Yes, we've been asked to take on a mission before we could actually land on Earth, but we're here, and that's your doing!”

“The Admiral's doing. She died to get us home and practically the moment we appear, Starfleet is sending us off on a busywork assignment to look for a missing ship.”

“Do you think the families of the Shambhala's crew would consider it busywork?”

She knew Chakotay was right but it was just so unfair that her crew, her wonderful, noble crew, whom had worked so hard for seven years to get home should be deflected on the very verge of attaining their goal. And Chakoaty, who had probably worked harder than anyone . . . if she handn't assigned Seven to encrypt the logs, he'd probably be enjoying a relaxing dinner with his girlfriend.

He quirked a smile at her, sensing that he was finally breaking through. "At least we don't have to worry about rations."

"That is something.” She chuckled and it felt like a weight lifted from her chest. 'Would you like anything?" She headed to the replicator for a fresh coffee.

"Hm. Since we're not worrying about rations? A piece of tres leches cake."

She turned back to the replicator to hide her smile. "You and your sweet tooth."

"At least I eat something."

Janeway rolled her eyes as she handed him his cake and a fork. "I doubt the Doctor would approve."

"Maybe not, but I don't have to avoid sickbay because of his admonitions about too many sweets, unlike someone I know . . ."

"That's not the only reason I avoid sickbay."

"So you claim."

She opened her mouth to make a retort when her computer chimed. She looked toward it, wondering who would be comming her now. She gave Chakotay a smile that clearly communicated her reluctance to answer the summons even as she made her way back to her desk. She was surprised to find the message was encrypted. Frowning, she beckoned Chakotay to join her as she stated her authorization. They both looked at each other in bemusement when music began to play rather than a voice message.

"Computer pause playback." Obligingly, the music stopped. "Computer, does this message contain anything other than the audio currently playing?"

"This message contains eight files, including the current audio."

"Display file list." Janeway shifted sideways slightly so Chakotay could look at the screen. "'Baychimo?'"

"No idea." He was leaning over her right shoulder, close enough that she could feel his body heat. Ruthlessly, she put it out of her mind. He probably wasn't even conscious of his position.

"Computer display file Baychimo one-five-three alpha."

As text and graphs began to scroll across the screen, she sank into her chair, coffee forgotten. It seemed to be a series of reports pertaining to twenty-first century Klingon vessel. Parts had been translated but the majority of the reports were in the original Klingon.

"Why would someone send you files about a three hundred year old Klingon ship?"

"No idea. Computer, identify sender of the message."

"That information has been redacted."

"Curiouser and curiouser."

The rest of the attached files proved to also be reports of missing ships, some Klingon, some Federation, and one Andorian vessel from the past century. The Federation reports were the most complete, sometimes including last known communications and telemetry or mission profiles.

The info on the Andorian ship seemed to be the most sketchy. As the vessel had been implicated in piratical activities prior to its disappearance, the captain had been less than scrupulous in noting cargo or flight plan. About the only things known about it was the class, the ship's last known sighting, a suspected destination, and the brief and abruptly truncated distress message picked up by Federation outpost.

Still confused as to who had sent the files and why, she downloaded each report into an individual PADD and handed three to Chakotay. He shuffled them. "Do you mind if I go over these in my office? I'm sure some of the crew will have questions and concerns about being home and I'd like to make myself available."

The thought that he probably wanted to be available for another reason crossed her mind, but she simply smiled and nodded. "Of course."

He turned to go when she spoke up again, "Chakotay, if there are too many for you to handle by yourself, do let them know my door is open." At his look of surprise, she shrugged a little diffidently, "I know I haven't always been approachable, and I won't have all the answers, but we're all, quite literally, in the same boat."

Amusement prompted a a dimpled smile. "As you wish, captain." He grabbed a fourth PADD from her stack. "If you're going to be dipping your toes into counselling, you'll need the extra time." With a last cheeky grin, he left through the corridor.

Three hours later, Janeway had read her three PADDs two or three times each and spoken to two crewmembers. She'd sort of expected that Chakotay would direct career fleet personnel to her, but one had been a Maquis crewman and the other had been Mortimer Harren.

Crewman Ferrars had only taken a few minutes, as the young man had spoken recently to his brother via Pathfinder. He was mostly curious about opportunities to stay in Starfleet once they arrived home and she'd explained that she wasn't entirely certain how that would all be coming out but that she was very hopeful for his chances. Ferrars had only joined Chakotay's crew shortly before the Val Jean was lost in the Delta quadrant and a quick check showed no warrants in his name.

Harren had not taken long either, but had been something of a surprise. She'd expected that he might want to know how soon he would be released from his obligations so that he could renew his application to the Institute of Cosmology, but instead he'd shared Ferrars interest in potentially continuing with Starfleet if the option was available to him. After he had left, she'd sat in bemused silence for several seconds before picking up the PADD she'd been perusing when he'd arrived.

There was little linking the three missing ships that she'd been reading about - a Klingon bird-of-prey, a Federation starship on a training cruise, and the Andorian pirate - but she'd able to discern that they'd all been in the same approximate area of space when they'd vanished. Although the designations were different on Klingon and Federation charts, the Timgad and the 'wI Batlh had both been in the same sector. The exact location of the Andorian ship was unknown, but it's supposed course also took it through sector 153 and outposts Epsilon one and two had both recorded the distress signal from their position along the Klingon/Federation border.

Wondering if the location of the other four ships was consistent, she touched her comm badge. "Janeway to Chakotay."

"Chakotay here, Captain."

"Have you had time to review those reports?"

"I'm just finishing up with the last one, Captain."

Kathryn smiled. It seemed that he had been the one to need the extra time; she would definitely tease him on that point later. "Very well. Join me in the ready room when you're finished. We should go over our findings and see if there are any correlations."

"Of course. Chakotay out."

She sat back with a sigh and turned to stare out at the stars as she had so many times before. Somehow, knowing that they were back and almost in spitting distance of Earth but being ordered away, the stars didn't bring her the solace they normally did. Instead, she pushed to her feet and made her way to the replicator, intending to help herself to another cup of coffee. Before she could make her order though, she remembered that they were now on unlimited rations and ordered a spiced chicken bahn mi as well. While she had legitimately forgotten to eat at times, much of the real reason for her apparent liquid diet had been that coffee was that much less in rations and she was able to covertly distribute her extras to crewmembers who seemed to be having a hard day.

Fifteen minutes later, she was just finishing up her sandwich when the door chimed. She managed a strangled "Come!" around the last bite, then quickly reached for a napkin to dab at her mouth.

Chakotay entered, looking first toward her desk before locating her by the viewport. He glanced at the plate of crumbs and empty cup with a skeptical look.

Hastily, Janeway swallowed. "You can wipe that look off your face right now, mister."

"Can I help it if I can practically remember each and every time I've seen you eat voluntarily on your own?"

"I don't recall being forced to have dinner with you."

"You almost always ate in company, Kathryn. Alone is something altogether different."

She rolled her eyes, then changed the subject. "Since you're here, I presume you managed to finish your files."

"I did. One of the files was on the original Kobayashi Maru."

"Really? That was, what? A hundred years ago?"

"A hundred thirty three, actually, in 2245. Fairly recent, considering that the Pujbe' 'etlh was from 2057."

"True." The Pujbe' 'etlh had been the file she'd pulled up initially upon receiving the message. "Actually, once of mine," she brandished the specific PADD, "was a near contemporary of the Kobayashi Maru. The 'wI batlh disappeared in 2246."

"Anything newer?" He asked as he took a seat.

"Yes, the Timgad from 2364."

"Didn't Hayes mention the Timgad when he called?"

"Yes. It disappeared in sector 153. It was a cadet ship from the Academy, researching then-recent claims by the Klingons that they had not destroyed the Kobayashi Maru or the Roanoke." As she'd expected, his eyes list with recognition when she named the sector. "I'm assuming all of your ships also went missing in that sector?"

"There abouts. The Klingons used a different basis for calculating galactic position in the twenty-first century and our information on that method is less than complete, so I'm not exactly sure where the Pujbe' 'etlh was, but it was pretty close. The Kobayashi Maru and the Roanoke were definitely in sector 153, and so was the Tor D'jath, a twenty-second century Vulcan science ship."

"So, not ten minutes after we're ordered to investigate the disappearance of the Shambhala, I get a strange, anonymous message with the records of seven other ships that vanished in the same area."

"It's a pretty strange coincidence." His expression clearly communicated what he thought of that likelihood and Janeway agreed with him. "Do you think Hayes sent the message?"

Kathryn had put a good deal of thought into that mystery while she'd been reading about the Timgad, the 'wI betlh, and the Keshen. She shook her head. "No. He would have just sent the files when he commed us. I'm inclined to think that there is much more to this 'investigation' than meets the eye and the files are someone's way of warning us." She stood, ostensibly to return her dishes to the replicator, but she felt restless and needed to move. "My first thought was Owen Paris or Admiral Patterson, but I think Owen would have given us more forewarning."

As usual, her hands sketched the air as she talked, and Chakotay smiled. Although it was a trivial detail, he found some comfort in knowing that even after attaining her goal of returning Voyager and her crew to the Alpha quadrant, and even after being sent on a mysterious mission almost as soon as they'd arrived, Kathryn Janeway's fire and passion was still very much evident as she worked though yet another puzzle. He shook his head slightly as he realized that he'd completely missed what she'd been saying. "I'm sorry; why don't you think it was Patterson?"

"Whoever sent the message had ready access to the files, probably having compiled them previously. While it's not completely out of the realm of possibility, these don't strike me as the sort of things he'd collect." She shook her head, frowning. "Not to mention, some of these reports wouldn't be easy to come by in any case. The Klingon ships, for example. They both disappeared long before the Treaty of Khitomer. It's not the sort of information they'd share freely."

She sighed and flopped back on the couch, temporarily defeated. "It must be someone with a high level of clearance, too, to be able to be able to send it anonymously."

"So, an admiral who would have reason to be looking into strange events on the Klingon border for the past three hundred years. An admiral whom, for whatever reason, does not want his or her identity readily known.”

Janeway pursed her lips, something about the last point not setting well. “Hm, yes.” She sat forward, reaching for her coffee before remembering she'd finished it. “We've been out of the loop for a long time. Even with the contact through Pathfinder, we're hardly up on all the politics.”

Chakotay hid a smile as he caught her aborted motion. “Would you like me to get you another cup?” He stood in response to her answering smile. “Maybe it's someone that thinks we might not trust the information if we knew the source?” He handed her a fresh coffee and took a sip of the chai he'd opted for. There were more than a few admirals that had been particularly antagonistic in regards to the Maquis seven years ago, though he liked to think he'd be able to give them the benefit of a doubt. Seven years was time enough for many people to change their minds, especially in light of the Dominion war.

“Perhaps. Or maybe we're not the ones they're hiding from.” Janeway stared into her coffee cup, as though looking for answers. “You know, we were so busy trying to survive and combine our crews, we never really talked politics.” She glanced at him, uncertain of what his response would be. In the Delta quadrant, politics had been irrelevant, but here at home they could run into some serious problems if they weren't on the same page.

Chakotay frowned this time. For so long they'd work in synch, fighting their mutual foes, that he'd almost forgotten that in this part of the galaxy, they might have different allegiances. “No, we haven't,” he said slowly, not entirely sure he wanted to get into it. Although he knew that Kathryn Janeway would protect her people at all costs, there were probably other decisions where politics could come into it.

“I never liked the treaty. I understood it, but I didn't agree with it, or think it was a real solution. Not with what we know of Cardassian culture.” She shrugged her shoulders at his bemused look. “Just thought you might want to know.”

He really shouldn't have been surprised that she would be so straight forward nor, thinking back on it, that her perspective was close to his. He decided that her candor deserved some of his own. “I didn't want to leave Starfleet, but I didn't feel I had a choice at that point. I thought I might end up on a ship facing off with the Maquis and realized that I wasn't sure I'd be able to follow orders in that event.”

“I'm sorry.”

Chakotay shook he head, confused. Was she apologizing for his feeling that he had to leave Starfleet? For the treaty? She must have realized he needed clarification because she continued.

“If we hadn't been in the Delta quadrant . . . I would have followed my orders. I didn't like the treaty, but we also couldn't afford an all-out-war by not taking action. It would have been tantamount to telling the Cardassians we weren't supporting the treaty. We needed all the time we could get to build up the 'Fleet. I just wish it hadn't cost so much.” She looked pained and haggered and wouldn't meet his eyes.

It was just as well, as a surge of anger speared through him. He'd served her faithfully, more than, for seven years. To know that she would have captured him, turned him in, it felt like a betrayal of all they had been through. He stood abruptly, too many emotions to name all thrumming through his body. Janeway glanced up, startled and he felt an obscene thrill at the flash of fear in her eyes. His jaw tightened, "Permission to be excused."

Janeway held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. As the doors closed soundlessly behind him, she let her eyes close and her head drop. She had known before she'd said it, that it would hurt him; she just hoped that he would eventually understand that she couldn't have lied to him, not about that. She just wished she'd had his courage of conviction back then. She'd never hated the Maquis, and had understood their fight, but she'd also known that the Federation would have been hard pressed to defend themselves against the Cardassians at that point. The 'Fleet was still rebuilding after Wolf 359, leaving them vulnerable. They'd been extremely lucky that the Romulans hadn't been in a particularly expansionist frame of mind at that point, because a war on two fronts would have been hopeless.

Sighing, and resolved to ask Owen about the current balance of power as soon as possible, Janeway at last sat back and took a steadying sip of her coffee. It had grown tepid in the interim and she grimaced, but drank it anyway. In an effort to turn her mind from Chakotay's abrupt departure, she picked up one of the four PADDs he'd abandoned. Although the outcome had been unpleasant, she didn't regret the discussion except for its timing, They hadn't gotten through discussing the reports and after realizing all the ships vanished in the same area, she was sure there must be something in the reports that would either answer the disappearance of the Shambhala or point to an answer and a way for Voyager to avoid the same fate.

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

Hours later, Janeway had read each of the reports in its entirety and felt none the wiser for it. Each report had detailed the search for the lost ship, scans and sensor data taken by various ships in the area, and whatever other pertinent data had been collected. In the case of the Kobayashi Maru and the Roanoke, there was a long transcript of bridge chatter and contemporary senor logs as the Roanoke's captain had apparently realized the unlikelihood of his ship and crew surviving the encounter and begun transmitting a live record of what would be his final moments.

There was similar documentation from the destruction of the 'wI betlh, for a Federation science ship had been working in a nearby asteroid belt and recorded the Klingon bird-of-prey's disappearance, but it did not include bridge communications or anything prior to the time when the ship decloaked, a scant eighty-seven seconds before it vanished for good.

Her head was swimming with sensor readings, visual observations, and more, but none of it was lining up into any sort of sensible explanation.

She wished she could call Chakotay back but she felt it best to let him have as much time as she could give him. She was tempted to call a briefing but it had slipped from beta shift into gamma shift and after the last few days, they all needed to catch up on rest. A yawn told her that she needed rest as much as any of them, but she shoved her fatigue aside. In less than thirty six hours, they would be approaching the Klingon border and the last known location of the Shambhala. She didn't know what they would find there and with seven missing ships already, she was on the verge of disobeying orders and taking Voyager right back to Earth.

Deciding she wasn't going to get anything further done in her ready room at such a late hour, she scooped up the PADDs and headed out. Her bed beckoned but instead she directed the 'lift to deck five. She hadn't had a chance to check in on her newest crew member yet and though she hoped the infant would be sleeping for B'Elanna's sake, she couldn't resist peeping in at sickbay.

As soon as the doors opened, it was clear that her hopes had been in vain, for the room fairly vibrated with the plaintive cries of an unhappy child. Just barely audible were the murmurs of B'Elanna and the more strident tones of the Doctor. Even though there was no partition up around the surgical bay, she rapped smartly on the wall to announce her presence. The alcove that formed the surgical bay gave the new mother and child a modicum of privacy by blocking direct view from the entrance if not from the Doctor's office.

As she stepped around the corner, B'Elanna was glaring at the EMH who seemed to be pontificating about some particular aspect of child care. She couldn't hear what he was saying but the infant didn't seem to be having any of it.

"Captain!" B'Elanna beamed at her, calling over the strident cries. Thankful for the tacit invitation, Janeway approached the bio bed to peer at the wrinkled and almost violet face of a very unhappy quarter Klingon infant. She could tell that B'Elanna was at the end of her patience with the Doctor and Janeway caught his eye and jerked her head toward his office. Not the best at following the orders, she was gratified that the EMH obeyed for once, seemingly glad for the respite.

"Hello, B'Elanna," due to the volume of the cries, they were virtually lip reading.

"Would you like to hold her?" There was a faint plea in the younger woman's eyes and Janeway tenderly took the squirming, fractious bundle from B'Elanna's arms. The change seemed to startle the infant for she stopped bawling momentarily before abruptly ratcheting up the volume. Janeway shifted from foot to foot, lightly jouncing the baby in her arms. After a long minute, the cries slowly began to diminish and settled into intermittent squawls.

From the bed, B'Elanna sighed, resting back on the raised head of the bio-bed. "Thank you for coming, Captain."

Janeway shook her head, smiling down at the fussing child. There was a faint pang that this was not likely to be in her future, but she wouldn't let her own regrets tarnish the new mother's joy. "Not at all, B'Elanna; I couldn't wait to meet her." She glanced around, noticing the missing individual from the tableau. "Where's Tom?"

B'Elanna gave a weary smile. "I sent him off to sleep. He might as well get the opportunity while he has it, since neither of us will be getting any rest once the Doctror releases us." She tossed a scowl in the direction of the EMH's office, clearly communicating that she rather thought they should have been released already.

Janeway nodded slightly, not wanting to break her bouncing rhythm that seemed to be helping in some small way. "What's her name?"

B'Elanna grinned and leaned over to run a gentle finger over the delicate forehead ridges. "This is Miral Kathryn Paris. I hope you don't mind. We'd already pretty much settled on my mother's name but since the Admiral sacrificed herself to get us home, we thought Kathryn would make a fine middle name."

Idly, Kathryn wondered what Miral's middle name had been in the now obliterated original timeline. "It fine. It's a wonderful name."

"You've been a wonderful captain, in any timeline."

"Thank you, B'Elanna." She looked down at the child and wiggled her fingers playfully. Miral caught one in a tiny fist and Janeway gasped at the surprising strength in the grip.

"What are those?" B'Elanna had spotted the stack of PADDs Janeway had left on the end of the bio bed.

"Oh, some reports I've been going over. Information about other ships lost in the same area."

“Do you need a hand?”

“I think you have enough on your hands with this little darling.”

B'Elanna chuckled. “Please. It would give me something to focus on other than her ravenous appetite when she's feeding.”

Janeway glanced at the engineer, looking for any hint that the offer was polite instead of genuine. Seeing none, she smiled tiredly. “Thank you, B'Elanna, I'd appreciate it. I'm going to have the senior staff review them in the morning as well but I want to know what exactly we're dealing with long before we get there.”

B'Elanna had already started reading the first of the reports but glanced up sharply. “You think there's something off about the mission?”

Janeway shrugged, reluctant to share her nebulous suspicions, particularly when B'Elanna had so much to occupy her already. “I don't know. But these reports didn't exactly come through official channels.”

“Oh, the mysterious music message?”

Janeway narrowed her eyes, wondering how the engineer had come across that bit of information.

“Chakotay stopped in briefly.” B'Elanna said by way of explanation, and Janeway couldn't help but wonder if his visit had come before or after their rather disastrous discussion of Federation politics. Since B'Elanna was still inclined to talk to her, Janeway guessed it was either before, or else he'd neglected to mention that she'd had every intention of obeying her orders seven years ago, regardless of how differently she felt now. Whichever it was, she was grateful. She would be hard pressed to protect them from repercussions if he stirred up discontent amongst the former Maquis.

"I'm sure he was eager to meet this little darling," Janeway turned her thoughts from her first officer and back to her newest and youngest crew member. Miral had finally settled and seemed to be asleep, though she still held Janeway's finger in a fierce grip. Just then, the grip slackened and the infant began to root blindly, eyes still tightly closed.

"Oops, looks like its feeding time again." B'Elanna grinned and held out her arms. Janeway carefully handed the little girl back to her mother. B'Elanna settled the baby in one arm and used the other to unfasten the chest panel on her gown. Miral quickly latched on and began to suckle with gusto as B'Elanna hissed quietly even as she smiled at her child. The engineer glanced up, looking a trifle embarrassed. "I thinks she's got more Klingon in her mouth than I have in my breasts," she commented with a faintly pained look. She picked up one of the data PADDs with her free hand and wiggled it demonstratively. "Go ahead, Captain. These'll be the perfect distraction and you can get some sleep. I'm pretty sure I won't be getting any."

Amused at the slight air of command, Janeway smiled. "Alright, B'Elanna, I know when I'm done. And I want you to know how very proud I am of you. Of everyone really, but this . . ." She motioned to Miral, "she's absolutely precious, B'Elanna. Good night."

Leaving B'Elanna to her reading, Janeway ducked into the Doctor's office. In light of his recent legal battle regarding his holonovel, she had started the process of filing a court petition to recognize him as an individual with all the rights and privileges inherent therein. The petition included a partial essay summarizing the precedent set by the sentience hearing for Lieutenant Commander Data. When she'd initially started the procedure, she'd thought the issue was likely to have been decided via the Pathfinder commlink as had the issue about recognizing him as an artist, but Admiral Janeway's arrival had moved up the time table considerably.

“Ah, hello,Captain.” The EMH smiled a trifle nervously. He wasn't wearing his mobile emitter. He'd been mortally embarrassed by his behaviour on their aborted trip to the medical symposium, and the statements he'd made to the senior crew on the holodeck, and even though his punishment had been served, he still seemed leery of interacting with the crew outside of his domain.

“I was wondering if you were interested in that trip to Buenos Aires?” Their visit to the holodeck had been waylaid by the Admiral's arrival and Voyager's subsequent transition to the Alpha quadrant. Conveniently, the cafe would also provide a more casual atmosphere than his office. It would also prevent them from disturbing B'Elanna and Miral.

“Now? It's a little late for coffee, don't you think, Captain?”

Janeway rolled her eyes at his ubiquitous complaint about her favourite beverage. “I'll have tea.”

The Doctor still hesitated, glancing in the direction of the surgical bay. She forestalled the anticipated objection. “They're fine and you can have the computer notify you of any changes.”

He looked slightly put out by her easy prediction of his delaying tactic, but acquiesced. “I'd like to meet you there, if I may?”

For a moment, Janeway considered denying the request, but figured he was still wary of encountering Seven. Given the former drone's current relationship with Chakotay, she could hardly blame him. “Of course. Ten minutes, or I'll transfer your program myself.” She looked at him from under her brows to let him know she really meant it.

“Yes, Captain.”

She smiled at his capitulation and headed out. She made a quick detour to her quarters to shed her uniform in favour of something a little more casual and picked up the PADD with her work on his case at the same time. Holodeck one was running the old crew standby of Sandrine's and for a moment she was torn, but resolutely continued to the second holodeck and pulled up the cafe program.

Entering, the scene was set for early evening, with the sun on the verge of disappearing below the rooftops of Monserrat. The avenue she stood on was already in shadow, but the setting sun cast a rosy hue on the upper floors of the buildings and glinted off window panes. The cafe as halfway down the block, occupying the first level of a building that had probably been around since the twentieth century at least. It's front was recessed slightly, with the second story forming a shallow overhang above the door and windows. A few sparsely populated tables dotted the sidewalk in front of the shop.

A waitress bid her take the seat of her choice and promised to return shortly to get her order before disappearing inside. Janeway selected a table at the edge of the cluster, both the better for the Doctor to find her and to be able to watch the retreating light as it slowly slid higher on the stone facings of the buildings. She was still watching the light darken from rose to orange when the EMH shimmered into the scene. Before she could lift a hand to signal him, he was already advancing toward her.

“I'm glad you made it, Doctor.” She had considered it a realistic possibility that he would not show up and she would have to make good on her threat.

“Yes, well . . .” He trailed off and took the opportunity to look around at the surrounding buildings as he slid into the wrought iron chair opposite. “A lovely setting. Is it accurate?”

“For the most part. I'm not sure that this cafe is still in business, but it was when Voyager was launched. It's one of a number of places I hope to visit again now that we're home.” She smiled and waved down the waitress that had greeted her originally. She ordered a chamomile-mint herbal blend that Chakotay had once recommended to help with her insomnia. The Doctor ordered oolong, taking advantage of being on the holodeck, the one place he could eat and drink just like any other member of the crew.

“Speaking of home, I wanted to discuss something with you.” She set the PADD on the table and pushed it towards him. “This is a rough draft of a petition to have you legally recognized as an individual. I had hoped to have this already resolved before we made it home, but this should at least contain much of the groundwork for a sentience hearing. I would recommend filing a soon as possible. As long as there's a case in motion, your program should be inviolate.”

The waitress reappeared with their drinks and just a quickly vanished again, leaving them to continue the conversation in peace.

The EMH picked up the PADD and examined the contents with a frown, “What if the court doesn't find me sentient.”

“Then we'll appeal,” Janeway replied firmly. “I will do everything in my power to ensure you are recognized as the individual you are.” She sat back with a slight sigh and took a sip of her tea. “Unfortunately, the petition is incomplete, and I'm not sure I'll have time to finish it. Additionally, I may be unavailable during or after debriefings. There are notes at the bottom about some possible contacts if you need assistance.”

The Doctor looked up from the PADD with alarm, “What? Why?”

Janeway shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “I'm just covering all the bases, Doctor. I don't want you left hanging if I'm unavailable.” Considering Voyager's reception so far, she half expected that she'd find herself up on charges when they reached Earth but was loath to share this concern with the Doctor, given his propensity for drama. At the very least, she might well be fighting for the freedom of the Maquis. In any event, her time would be at premium and she didn't want the Doctor neglected. She was hoping that Captain Picard would be willing to help the EMH if worse came to worse.

Fortunately, the Doctor seemed to accept her explanation and turned his attention back to the PADD. As Janeway took another sip of her tea, she stiffled a yawn. It had been late when she'd visited B'Elanna and suspected it was in the wee hours now. “If you'll excuse me, Doctor. I hate to cut our visit short, but I have duty in a few hours. The holodeck is available for another half hour if you'd like to stay.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes, of course, Captain. I'm glad you're endeavouring to get some rest, even if it is only a few hours.”

She'd known he wouldn't be able to resist a comment on sleeping habits but only smiled tiredly. “Have a good night, Doctor.” With a final nod, she left.

The corridors of deck six were empty at this time of night and she strolled along without her usual purpose. Just for the moment, she was content to listen to the night time sounds of her ship, feel the comforting hum of the engines through the deck plating. All too soon, Voyager would be landing in San Francisco and, if the Admiral's version of events held true, this grand ship would never rise again.

She knew logically that the Admiral's timeline had been annihilated the very moment her older self had appeared through the temporal rift, but as neither Braxton nor Ducane had appeared to either stymie the Admiral's attempt or to force Voyager back to the Delta quadrant, she figured that Voyager's premature arrival must be a rather minor drop in the temporal bucket.

She supposed it was funny that she regarded this mission with such trepidation but relied on the absence of a representative from the Temporal Integrity Commission as proof that Voyager's early appearance in the Alpha quadrant caused no great changes to the timeline. Or perhaps that was why she was worried. The admiral had told her little about any impact Voyager's return had made on the Federation. If they had no lasting impact on the Alpha, Beta, or Delta quadrants, then it would hardly matter to the crew of the Relativity if Voyager returned in twenty three years or perished out here on the edge of Klingon space. It wasn't a particularly cheerful thought and the somber mood that had accompanied her from the holodeck deepened.

She stepped into a waiting turbolift and ordered it to deck three. She yawned twice more in the few seconds it took to traverse the three decks and decided that bed was definitely her next stop. The briefing was scheduled for 0900 and she would be able to catch a few hours of sleep and still be able to rise and review the reports again before her senior staff assembled.

The corridor of deck three was mercifully empty and she entered her quarters unaccosted. As soon as the doors slid closed behind her, she let he shoulders slump in fatigue. As she headed for her bedroom, she picked up her uniform jacket from earlier and dumped both her uniform and her clothes of the past hour into the refresher. She cast a wistful glance at the door to her bathroom, but she had to be up in a few hours and falling asleep in the tub would only earn her a sore back and cramped neck. Instead, she collapsed on the bed in her skivvies and undershirt.

“Computer set alarm for zero six thirty.” A cheery beep let her know the command had been accepted. She closed her eyes and was asleep within seconds.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

Alpha quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54979.6

“Sir? A man just dropped off this PADD for you. He wouldn't leave his name.” The young woman looked entirely to innocent and eager to have been out of the Academy four years, but that's what they gold him.

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'll take that, Lieutenant." He feigned distraction. It was an easy ruse and generally convinced whomever needed convincing that he was preoccupied with other matters and therefore not attending what was being said. It suited him that people would under estimate him.

"I scanned it to be sure it's safe." The lieutenant placed the PADD on his desk with a bright smile before scurrying back to her desk.

He hesitated before reaching for it. It wouldn't do to be seen as too eager to read a "mysterious" PADD. He doubted the pretty lieutenant had noticed, but he'd gone too long concealing his objectives and motives to let down his guard in any circumstances. When he was sure she'd long since stopped paying attention to what he was doing, he casually shuffled the PADD into his existing stack. A quick slight of the wrist and the unmarked PADD made it's way to the top of the pile. It wouldn't do to lose track of it and risk someone else coming across the information.

He thumbed it on and scanned the contents quickly, then again. He knew he was taking too long, but he wanted to be sure he'd read it correctly. He allowed himself a third read-through before erasing the contents. On the pretense of needing another drink he wandered over to the replicator and ordered tea. He smoothly replaced the cup with the PADD and hit the recycle button as he turned away. The PADD would be nothing more than free floating atoms and energy before he made it back to his desk.

@>---,---\-----

Nechayev had allowed her annoyance to diminish somewhat before calling Hayes to her office. She would have liked to simply order him to recall Voyager, but it would have given the impression that Starfleet's left hand didn't know what the right hand was doing. Given the unrest and distrust in the wake of the Dominion War, that was something she wanted to avoid. Additionally, Voyager's redirection had made her take a closer look at incidents in Starfleet over the past couple years.

It was no secret that repercussions from the war were still present across the Federation. Thousands of lives had been lost, both Starfleet and civilian. Despite the Breen bombardment, Earth had managed to rebuild relatively quickly, but other planets had not been so lucky. Even planets that had escaped the direct ravages of the war were suffering as they exported as much as they could to those less fortunate. Resources across the Federation were in high demand as they tried to shore up their battered defenses.

In the months immediately following the end of the war, Starfleet had kept her too busy to think, let alone see patterns in the constant flood of PADDs that crossed her desk. Now, though rebuilding was an ongoing process, most of the resources had been allocated, the Romulans were licking their wounds behind the Neutral Zone and even the Klingons has mostly retreated behind their borders. Reports continued to cross her desk, but the volume was at least somewhat manageable.

She couldn't say for certain the first time she'd had inkling that something was amiss, but over the past few months, she'd begun to notice shipments that went in when they should have been going out. Planets that had escaped unscathed were receiving rebuilding materials that should have been prioritized for the likes of Betazed. Initially, she'd thought she'd just been tired. She'd gone home to her flat late one night, eager for the few hours of shuteye she'd be able to get before she had to back in the office. There had been a glitch in the transporters and despite the late hour, she'd been forced to wait in the queue with the rest of the officers who were trying to get home to their own beds.

Too tired to be sociable, she'd pulled up her next day's schedule to see if there was anything she could get a start on while she was waiting when she'd overheard a snippet of conversation. A junior officer had been commiserating with a civilian staffer, talking about family or friends they'd lost. One of them had made a comment about being glad that her grandmother was on Terra Nova and thus had survived the war. The problem was, Nechayev thought she recalled a PADD she'd signed off on that day that had been for an import of duranium to Terra Nova. She'd puzzled over it for only a moment before deciding that she must have been miss-remembering. A minor emergency had come up first thing the next day and she'd never gotten around to checking on it.

Another time, it had been a load of self-sealing stem bolts going to Deneb Kaitos V. Again, Deneb V had been a planet that escaped bombardment or invasion by the Dominion, but self-sealing stem bolts were used in a variety of applications and it was possible that the bolts had been being used in the production of machinery that would ten be shipped to a planet that lacked the manufacturing infrastructure to construct the piece itself. All of the instances had been like that, odd but explainable. It was only when she'd had the time to go back that she'd recalled that Terra Nova was primarily agricultural and duranium was too scarce to be used in farming implements.

Aside from suspicious resource allocation, there had also been a few abnormalities in the promotions of late. Commanders that had served with distinction were passed over for available captaincies while others with less exemplary records were given a fourth pip. It had only been one or two, but the commanding officer of one of those that had been passed over had been her second officer during her last ship command and while he was in San Francisco for a brief stop over, he had mentioned it over coffee. Nechayev had offered to look into it, but Captain Dennys had waived it off and the next time the board convened, the officer had been on the lists.

Too busy at the time to make the effort to investigate, she'd let each incidence pass. But this morning she'd looked over the promotions lists and noticed that the officer promote over Dennys' first officer had served under board member Admiral Adrian Fess. And two Lieutenant Commanders the year before had once served under Admiral Lyle Minton, a close friend of Fess.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seven

Beta quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54978.7

USS Voyager

“The time is zero six thirty. The time is zero six thirty.”

Janeway groaned as she rolled over. She hardly felt like she'd slept at all. Though, since she'd made bedfall at approximately 0330, she supposed she really hadn't.

As she stumbled from the bed, she ordered the alarm to cease and reset for tomorrow morning. Her eyes were still at half-mast by the time she reached the sink. She glanced blearily at her reflection before shedding her sleepwear and ducking into the sonic shower. She never got quite the same satisfaction from the shower that she got with a good soak, but when time was of the essence, the sonic emitters did the job more quickly.

She tossed her uniform and underthings from the previous day into the refresher. Even though it had cost her extra rations, she'd made sure she had three full uniforms to rotate through. It saved a bit of wear and tear on the fabric and if a turn in engineering left her feeling soiled, she didn't have to wait for a uniform to go through the 'fresher before returning to the bridge. She pulled on the first spare and headed into the main room feeling a bit more human. Her boots were by the desk where she'd kicked them immediately after entering the night before and she swept them up on her way to the replicator. For once, it was being agreeable and steaming cup of coffee appeared in the slot promptly.

She toed on her boots as she enjoyed her first couple of sips and then she was out the door and on her way to the bridge. It was just zero six forty-five when the 'lift doors hissed open and deposited her on the upper level of the bridge. It was still an hour before shift change so she waved Harry back into the command seat as she headed for her ready room. Rather than bother with another set of PADDs for the moment, she brought up the files on her terminal. Her eyes started to glaze after the second paragraph. Most of the salient details were still in her mind anyhow so she decided to work on the numerous other projects that required immediate attention now that they were back.

The ruling in the Doctor's favor regarding his holonovel a few months ago was promising but the fight for recognition of his autonomy and sentience would still have to be argued in court. She'd started on some of the research previously but it had rather fallen by the wayside as other matters demanded her attention. Now she pulled up the transcripts for the trial regarding the android, Data from several years before. Although it provided a valid legal precedent for the recognition of artificial life forms as individuals, she knew that she would have to build on that foundation in order to address the various issues that might arise in regards to the doctor.

While they'd still been in the Delta quadrant, she'd anticipated representing the EMH herself but on Earth the Doctor would have his choice of legal counsel. Even if he wanted her to stand up with him, it wasn't certain that she'd be available. She hoped that debriefings wouldn't be too arduous but as she'd mentioned to the Doctor the night before, there was a very real possibility that she might be needing legal counsel herself before the end of it. In any case, she felt she would be remiss in her duties if she didn't provide him with as much research as she could going in.

She had also the legal documentation that would be required to recognize both Seven and Icheb as full citizens of the Federation. She wasn't entirely sure if it was necessary for Seven - she hadn't been able to access civilian records to find out if Magnus, Erin, and Annika Hansen had been officially reported as deceased - but renewing Seven's citizenship would be required in any case. Icheb was a little more tricky and she'd been forced to leave portions of his paperwork blank until she could discuss the issue with him. He was still underage according to Federation statutes and an adult member of the crew would have to declare responsibility for him at least until his eighteenth birthday. She was fully willing to take that part if needed but wanted to check with Icheb first to find out if he had any objection. She also knew he spent a good deal of time with Naomi and her mother, so it was possible that Sam would want to sign for him instead.

@>---,---\-----

Chakotay arrived on the bridge a few minutes before zero seven hundred. He had fully intended to excuse himself to his office to work on reports, but seeing that Janeway was not present, he took his customary seat and pulled up a current status report on the center console. He frowned as he noted the briefing scheduled for zero eight thirty. He knew it was only reasonable to get the crew working on preparations even if he wasn't looking forward to working with the captain any time soon.

After he'd left the ready room last night, he'd stopped in astrometrics half hoping that Seven would have finished her encryptions and they would be able to get a late dinner. She had coolly informed him that she was only fifty-eight percent complete with her assignment and had consumed one of her ration bars for sustenance. If Seven had noticed his emotional distress, she hadn't remarked on it and he hadn't been inclined to demand her attention. Instead, he'd headed up to sickbay to visit B'Elanna and his niece.

Tom had been in attendance, looking more haggard than Chakotay had ever seen him. Still, the pilot had been beaming and proudly introduced Miral Kathryn Paris. Any other time, he probably would have cheered the choice of middle name but just then he hadn't been prepared to give Janeway or her future self any quarter. He'd smiled politely and held the tiny infant for a few moments before returning her to her mother to nurse. Then he'd excused himself and returned to his quarters.

He made his typical preparations for bed and had thought about attempting to speak with his spirit guide but had decided against it. Instead, he'd gone straight to bed but sleep had eluded him. After nearly an hour of tossing and turning, he'd gone back to his living room and convinced the computer to down load the files from the strange message. He managed to review them for another two hours before finally feeling that he could sleep.

Not as practised as Janeway in missing sleep, he awoken that morning feeling every one of his years. It had taken him the better part of an hour to makes his way though his morning routine. He'd headed for the mess hall out of habit but stopped himself short of dishing up a bowl of greenish Astral Oatmeal. Instead he'd helped himself to a replicated warm bowl of corn porridge.

The mess hall had been unusually quiet and it had taken him a few minutes to realized the few patrons were those that had probably come out of habit after forgetting that replicator usage was no longer rationed. What patrons there were had taken solitary meals and departed for duty stations or other activities without engaging in the friendly camaraderie that had become such a part of life on Voyager. There had only been two other people eating when he left and both had entered after him.

As he scrolled through the suggested itinerary for the briefing, he noted that B'Elanna was listed as a contributor. He'd scrolled further and spotted a collection of notes on the reports about the missing ships and seethed quietly. He'd slowly been working his way to being less antagonistic toward the captain but seeing B'Elanna on the schedule when she should have been resting with her baby caused his temper to flare.

He headed for the ready room and used his override code rather than ring the chime and risk her ignoring him. "You have no business calling B'Elanna to this briefing! You may have sacrificed your personal life for this ship, but she hasn't! She shouldn't have even had to look at those files!"

Janeway had looked surprised at his entrance and even a bit taken aback as he launched into his tirade but it had been a momentary reaction at best. Before he'd finished his first sentence, her expression had hardened and by the time the third was wrapping up, she was standing with her arms braced on the desk.

"How dare you barge in here and start slinging accusations!" She levelled the glare she typically reserved for insubordinate and disrespectful crewmembers at him. Well, he didn't feel much respect for the woman before him at the moment. "If you'd bothered to check the notes, you'd see that B'Elanna put herself on the schedule. I told her it wasn't necessary but she insisted. Further more, she asked to read the reports!"

"She just gave birth; she should be resting in sickbay! Justify it all you want, but she shouldn't even be aware of the reports." He'd known early on that she held the mission to get Voyager home above nearly all considerations but he'd never thought she would drag B'Elanna into it. Though, she had pulled Tom to the bridge yesterday, even when it was patently obvious that he'd wanted to be in sickbay with B'Elanna. Still, her cold dismissal of the arrival of the family's newest member was beyond any behaviour he'd ever thought he'd see from Janeway.

“I don't need to justify anything to you. Get out!” She was livid, colour staining her cheeks as she punctuated her order by stabbing a finger toward the door.

“Less than a day back in Federation space and you revert to type, a Starfleet martinet willing to sacrifice anyone and anything. I should have mutinied and taken the ship that first week, but I trusted you.” He looked at the captain he'd followed faithfully for almost seven years, his disgust with having been tricked yet again clearly visible on his face. His lips curled with disdain, he shook his head, then turned and walked out.

“I'll be in my office.” He didn't even bother to acknowledge Tuvok as he passed on his way to the aft corridor. He hadn't handed the bridge over when he'd barged into the ready room either, but he wasn't feeling particularly inclined to observe pointless Starfleet protocols and procedures. He was so blinded by his anger that he even missed B'Elanna and Tom stepping out of the 'lift with Miral.

"What was that?" Tom voiced what most of the bridge was probably thinking.

Harry shrugged. It had been clear that the commander was in a foul mood from the moment he'd arrived on the bridge, but he had no idea what had set Chakotay off. Although Harry was a little annoyed with the current detour, he was still happy to be back in Federation space and it seemed the rest of the crew was, too. When he'd last seen the commander prior to this morning, Chakotay had seemed to be in pensive, but positive spirits.

B'Elanna frowned, thinking. The captain had seemed somewhat tense when she'd arrived in sickbay at close to zero two hundred, though she'd hid it well. The tension had eased for a while, but returned when she'd mentioned the mysterious message and Chakotay. It was obvious that the pair had had a fight at some point last night and B'Elanna didn't think she was reaching too much to supposed that it had to do with that message.

"Here, Tom," she handed Miral off. "Why don't you take her to see the captain and I'll go check on Chakotay." She pressed a quick kiss to her husband's cheek before following Chakotay.

Tom nodded absently, not entirely sure he wanted to disturb Janeway. Chakotay was generally pretty easy going and if the commander was that upset, it was a fairly good bet that the captain would hardly be any more approachable. Delaying the inevitable, he took Miral around to meet the rest of the bridge crew, starting with Harry.

B'Elanna rang the chime on Chakotay's door, scowling when he didn't answer. When a second attempt at polite entry also failed to produced results, she verified with the computer that he was actually in his office and hadn't just used the destination to put people off his tracks. She rang the chime a third time and when he still didn't answer, she used an engineering override. He'd be pissed but he could hardly call her on it since she had given him plenty of opportunity answer the door like a rational human.

"I don't want to speak to you. You've made your patent disregard for the lives and welfare of this crew abundantly clear."

B'Elanna was taken aback by his words, and confused. It was clear that he thought he was speaking to someone else, most likely the captain, but she couldn't recall a single instance in which the welfare of the crew hadn't been at the forefront of Janeway's mind. There were any number of instances in which the Captain had put herself in harms way to protect the crew. She didn't even know what to say to such a charge.

Fortunately, she didn't have to say anything at all. When he didn't get a reaction from his harsh words, he turned. "B'Elanna!" He stumbled for a moment, apparently at a loss for how to excuse the outburst. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"I got that. Who did you think I was?" She feigned ignorance, wondering if he'd own up or explain what he'd meant. When he hesitated, she pressed. "The captain, perhaps?" A spark flared in his eyes, which would have confirmed the guess even if she hadn't known he'd just come from the ready room. Something in her face must have clued him in to the fact that she already knew.

"Leave it, B'Elanna."

"You think she doesn't care for this crew? What has she ever done that *wasn't* for this crew?"

"I can't believe you have to ask that."

"Obviously I do, because I'm completely at a loss here, Chakotay."

He scowled and picked up a PADD on his desk. "This! You're on maternity leave, and she has you reading reports and attending meetings! Miral needs her mother more than this ship needs another person going over these age old reports!"

"PetaQ! I volunteered, Chakotay! The captain isn't making me do anything!"

"She brought them to you, didn't she? You wouldn't even know about them if she hadn't."

"No, she didn't. She stopped in to meet Miral last night, just like you had earlier. I asked about the PADDs, I asked to read them. When Miral's feeding, all I can do is sit there. Reading gives me something to do. I had a baby, Chakotay, not a lobotomy. Reading reports is hardly taxing. I was planning on just forwarding any observations I had, but I think there's more going on here than a handful of missing ships. So I volunteered for the meeting. The Doctor okay'ed it and Tom and I can introduce Miral around at the same time."

"She manipulated you, just like she does with everyone. She gets to know you, pretends she cares . . . It's a ruse."

He sounded disgusted and B'Elanna frowned. Certainly, she knew that the Captain was good at convincing people to work with her, but a ruse? "Chakotay, what's really going on here? I told you she didn't ask me to read the reports or to come to the meeting. She didn't even ask me to report on what I read. Are you sure you're not reading more into this?"

"She was going to turn us in."

"What?" B'Elanna shook her head, not following.

"Seven years ago. If we hadn't been swept into the Delta Quadrant, she would have captured the Val Jean, arrested everyone but her pet Vulcan, and turned us over the the authorities."

She frowned again. It was disconcerting to think that the people who had become her friends over the past several years would have arrested her in the beginning, but then she and the rest of the Maquis had been pretty much set to blow them out of the sky back then, too. "Of course she would have. Same as you would fired on Voyager and had me pull every damn trick in and out of the book to get out of their clutches and disable or destroy them."

Chakotay stared at her like she had two heads.

"Look, I get that it's not something you want to think about, but if you're honest with yourself, you know I'm right. You, Ayala, and Tuvok beamed onto her bridge with phasers drawn!"

"How do you know about that?"

"Tom told me. He was on the bridge, if you recall. You tried to physically attack him." Some of the tension had dropped from his frame and she hoped she was getting through to him. "We weren't friends back then, Chakotay. She didn't know you, she didn't know *us*."

"She would have arrested us!"

B'Elanna was just about fed up with his obdurate obsession with something that had not happened. "Seven years ago! We've all changed in seven years, Chakotay! For Grethor's sake, I'm *married*. With a *baby*! How does *that* fit into your picture of the past? Seven years ago I was more likely to beat Tom Paris to a pulp than give him the time of day!" She stared at him, waiting for him to admit he was wrong or make some sort of concession, but it didn't come. "Fine. If you want to hold on to this irrational anger about something that didn't happen, I don't care. But don't you dare expect everyone else to feel betrayed by a non-event from seven years ago." She sighed. "I'll see you at the briefing." She turned and left.

When she arrived back on the bridge, Tuvok and Harry were still at their posts and the captain's seat was still empty. She guessed that Tom was still in the Ready Room with the captain. Rather than interrupt, she took a seat on the little jump seat to the right of the captain's chair that Neelix had occasionally occupied.

@>---,---\-----

Tom had entered the Ready Room with some trepidation, not entirely sure he wanted to expose his infant daughter to Janeway's wrath if she was in as foul a mood as Chakotay's. Objectively, he knew she'd never hurt Miral, but it was still a little daunting. He put it off as long as he could, introducing his daughter to Tuvok, Harry, Sam Wildman, Baytart, and Kaplan, before finally ringing the chime on the ready room.

The summons had come immediately, which was usually a good sign. He'd always imagined that the few extra beats she took to answer when she and Chakotay were disagreeing on something was her composing herself so as not to betray her emotions to the rest of crew. It was something he'd seen his father do when he was younger, though Owen Paris had not been half so successful at sublimating his emotions as Kathryn Janeway.

He turned Miral so she faced outward as he entered, knowing that if he was wrong, Janeway would still see the baby and temper her behaviour accordingly. As it turned out, the precaution was unnecessary. Far from looking annoyed or angry, the captain looked subdued and almost resigned. She barely even looked up as he entered. "Captain?"

"Oh, hello, Tom." She caught sight of Miral and the force smile she'd offered him broadened into genuine pleasure. She stood and immediately came around the desk. "Hello, Miral." She gestured toward the sitting area and Tom followed. He couldn't recall if she'd ever spoken with him in this less formal corner of the room before. "I think she's grown since last night!"

"She's certainly eating enough. She had B'Elanna up half a dozen times last night."

Janeway frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you sure B'Elanna is up for joining the briefing? It's really not necessary for her to attend."

When B'Elanna had mentioned it first thing this morning, Tom had been skeptical, but B'Elanna had been adamant and the Doctor had reluctantly agreed that there was no medical reason to prohibit the activity. "She's looking forward to it. She hasn't been out as much lately and I think she's going stir crazy.”

Janeway smiled gently, looking down at the delicate infant, lest she reveal to her helmsman how very glad she was that B'Elanna's avid interest in the reports and her attendance at the briefing were genuine. She knew that on occasion she had manipulated both crew and circumstances to her ends, though not for selfish gain as Chakotay had charged. No matter what he believed of her, the ship and the entire crew had been her primary concern for the past seven years. Even when she'd been obligated to destroy the Omega particle, she had attempted to ensure that the ship and her crew would continue on their journey. It had been at Chakotay's stubborn insistence that the ship be endangered rather than allow her to tackle the problem with a shuttle.

"Captain?"

"Hmm?" She looked up briefly, her mind too preoccupied with her own thoughts to be properly attentive.

"Chakotay looked to be in a right snit when he stormed out of here. Is everything alright?"

Janeway winced. She had known that the crew were often aware when she and Chakotay were at odds though she had always done her best to not let their spats interfere with her interactions with the rest of the crew. She didn't think she'd done all that bad of a job at it, though she rather suspected that they did their best to play along with her that nothing was wrong in their little microcosm. On rare occasions when the conflict had been too palpable to ignore, she had always sort of expected Tom to call them on it. But this was the first time.

"Everything's fine, Tom."

The look he gave her clearly communicated that he didn't believe a word of it, but before he could contest her statement, the chime rang and she called for entry. She caught his assessing look out of the corner of her eye and knew he must have noticed the way she'd tensed.

The doors breezed open to admit B'Elanna who favored her husband and daughter with a fond smile. When she looked at Janeway, however, it lost much of its ease. Still, she approached readily and sat next to Tom so she had easy access to her child. "Are you alright, captain?"

Janeway started to give the engineer the same answer she'd given Tom, but there was something in B'Elanna's manner that told her the half-Klingon knew enough to not be allayed by platitudes. Instead, she gave a non-committal shrug and hoped that admission of uncertainty was enough. It seemed to be, for B'Elanna offered her a tight smile of commiseration.

"Thank you for the PADDs; she had me up most of the night and they were a great help. I didn't quite get through them all, but I'm not sure it's the sub-temporal rift that Captain Hall postulated."

Janeway had disagreed with the Halifax captain's assessment as well, though she hadn't had the energy to come up with an alternate hypothesis. It was just one of the reasons she was going to be throwing the reports open to her senior staff in just a few minutes. It seemed that they might have a jump start on theories. "Yes, I agreed. The Halifax's sensors were more limited in their scope, but more than that the visual record is incongruous with a sub-temporal rift."

"Exactly!" B'Elanna seemed ready to continue to explain by Janeway stopped her with a raised hand.

"I'd rather cover it in the briefing, if you don't mind B'Elanna?" Obviously the younger woman was energized by the idea, but conscious of Chakotay's accusations, she didn't want to strain the new mother in any way.

"What reports? What are we talking about?" Tom look confused, and concerned. Apparently B'Elanna hadn't told him why she wanted to attend the briefing.

"Reports of missing ships, like the Shambhala. I relieved the captain of them when she stopped by to visit Miral last night after you'd gone to bed. I needed something to occupy me while Miral fed and that captain needed a good night's rest." The last was stated with a fairly impish grin from behind the safety of her husband's shoulder. "It's not just one missing ship, but more like eight that have all disappeared in the same region."

Paris looked like he wanted to know more about exactly what his wife had been reading and how it involved Voyager's current mission, but Janeway intervened again. "It'll all be explained at the briefing, Mr. Paris. Which," she turned to glance at the chronometer on her desk, "is just about to start. Shall we?" She stood and gestured for the family to precede her.

The small procession from the ready room was doomed to delay as Tuvok and Harry's replacements had arrived and wanted to coo over the littlest crew member. Janeway didn't have the heart to deprive them and gave the new parents a reassuring pat on their shoulders and whispered for them to take their time.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eight

Alpha quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54981.2

Earth

"Wait, what do you mean Hayes knows?"

"He stumbled up on a collection of files that indicate sector one-five-three may not be as innocuous as previously thought."

"But, but . . . If he orders Voyager to return, that could expose us! You said this was foolproof!"

"Shut up, Minton. He's not going to do that."

"And just what is to stop him, Fess? The Janeways have a lot of friends. Powerful friends that are ready to celebrate Voyager's triumphant return."

"He's not going to do that because right now, Voyager is doing what a dozen ships did when she was declared missing. If he pulls her off the mission, it sends a message that Janeway's ship is somehow more important than the Shambhala. That's not the kind of press they need."

It's not the kind of press we need, either, Galt. The Shambhala had only a fraction of the crew of Voyager, and none of them with connections like the Janeways. If Hayes recalls Voyager, the Shambhala crew has scarcely four dozen people to protest. It would be a blip in the ocean compared to the people that will be singing Janeway's praises as soon as she sets foot on Earth. And they won't just be 'Fleeters, either. Her mother's a well-known and respected academic."

"The sister's no slouch either. She may not have the same sort of prestige, but her artwork has a wide and diverse following. And artists aren't exactly known for their discretion."

"The Shambhala's crew may not have a figurehead like Janeway to rally support, but that doesn't mean they'd go unheard. You'd be surprised how much publicity you can get for a handful of stones and a few promises."

"Say what you mean, Galt. I haven't got all day to play your spy games."

"There are plenty of struggling journalists out there, waiting for the scoop that will make their byline big news. They aren't the type to quibble about ethics when a sensational story such as favouritism by Starfleet is dropped in their laps."

"You mean the so-called-reporters from those tabloid publications? No one reads those anymore."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Lovell. People love to read a juicy story of betrayal. It make them forget their own problems while they twist their fingers over the misfortunes of others. Throw in a scandalous love affair between Voyager's captain and the Maquis she was meant to capture, and the public will eat it up."

"That's preposterous!"

"No one would believe that sort of dreck!"

"You think? These are a few images that were sent to family members over the Pathfinder project. One picture might be dismissed, but the crew of Voyager has furnished us with all the ammunition we need to hang Captain Janeway and her pet Maquis if it comes to that. Though I don't think it will."

Chapter Text

Chapter Nine

Once Seven had worked out the most efficient way to encrypt the personal logs without preventing the crew from making new entries, the entire process had been relatively easy if time consuming. The actual encryption sequence took only a few minutes to apply but she had to apply it to each batch of logs individually. Because of the repetition, it was mind-numbingly boring work and something that even Crewman Celes could have completed without supervision.

She'd been tempted to automate the process - even though the encryption had to be applied to individual batches it didn't have to be done manually - but felt it was more prudent to oversee the project for added security. Additionally, she added additional layers of encryption to the logs of certain individuals that she suspected might be of particular interest to Starfleet as those logs came up.

The idea that Starfleet, an organization which Kathryn Janeway represented and respected, might practice illicit behaviour such as she was preventing was disturbing. Seven had difficulty understanding how the Captain could respect an organization and simultaneously suspect it of unethical behaviour. It was something she would have to ask Chakotay later.

Unfortunately, she found that her relationship with Chakotay was another thing that was not as simple as she'd originally anticipated. When she had used his template on the holodeck, she had been attempting to practice her social skills and understand the more nuanced behaviour of courtship. Since her evening with William Chapman and Ensign Kim's rejection of her suggestion that they copulate, she had come to understand that even when individuals were physically attracted to one another, they didn't always act on those feelings.

Rather, in her observations it seemed that physical attraction between two crewmembers was the emotion least likely to be acted on. When individuals were angry or upset with another person, they were much more likely to manifest outwardly than when they were sexually aroused. The crew smiled when they were happy, frowned or grimaced when they were annoyed or angry, laughed when they were amused, and withdrew when they were upset. But other than Lieutenants Paris and Torres, very few of the crew every outwardly exhibited behaviours that Seven would have associated with sexual interest in another.

There were a number of the crew that were either engaged in or at least interested in pursuing physical relationships with other members of the crew, judging by their physical micro-reactions. Pupils dilated, pulse and breathing accelerated . . . and yet often the individuals didn't even speak to the crew member that inspired these responses. It had been patently obvious that Susan Nicoletti was interested in William Chapman, but Seven had never seen the two exchange more than a few polite words.

She'd repeatedly witnessed this reticence among the greater portion of the crew and even though she understood that copulating was an activity that was typically kept private she had seen little evidence that any of the afflicted crewmembers participated in sexual activity behind closed doors, either.

More perplexing, when she'd entered the ready room, she had noted that both the Captain and Chakotay had been manifesting symptoms of physical arousal. Admittedly, many of the physiological symptoms of arousal were shared with other emotional states including anger, but she had certainly witnessed the Captain and the Commander when they were unhappy with each other and a number of signals that she associated with those instances had been missing.

After leaving the ready room, she'd mentally compared Chakotay's physical responses to Janeway with the physical responses he exhibited in her own presence. She had come to the uncomfortable conclusion that Chakotay was more strongly attracted to the Captain than he was to herself. She was not certain how best to approach this revelation with him or even if she wanted to, but she felt it was necessary in further expanding her understanding of what it was to be human.

With the deactivation of the implant that modulated emotions, she often found herself experiencing seemingly contradictory responses. Since the EMH had revealed his own feelings for her, she had become reticent about approaching him for advice. Knowing that Chakotay often counselled members of the crew when they were troubled, she had expected that a relationship with him would follow the patterns described in literature. Unfortunately, she had found that even with a person as seemingly emotionally open as Commander Chakotay, personal relationships did not progress uniformly. The first two interactions has been relatively academic, but the picnic she'd planned for them had failed to culminate in a kiss. Instead, she had been forced to initial their first kiss herself.

The kiss had been reasonably close to what she had been given to expect. Unfortunately, her own physiological responses had been un-engaged despite the fact that the kiss had met virtually all the generally accepted criteria for a passionate kiss. She had previously resolved to repeat the experiment to verify her findings but that, along with dinner, had been postponed. As the simple but repetitive task gave her ample time to ruminate on the data, she was finding the prospect of a second attempt less than appealing.

When Chakotay arrived shortly after twenty-three hundred, she had been glad to have the continuing encryption project as an excuse to decline his invite for a late dinner. He had appeared unsettled and he doubtless would have expected her to offer some sort of emotional support, a position she found wholly impossible at the moment.

It had been nearing zero three hundred when she finished encrypting all of the log files and the technical information on the list. A full regeneration cycle would typically have taken until mid alpha shift, but she'd received notice that her presence was required at a morning briefing. As she had reduced her regeneration requirements in the interests of preparing to take the ship into the transwarp hub, she was feeling more fatigued than usual and made a note to return to her alcove between the briefing and Voyager's arrival in sector one five three.

Four and a half hours later, Seven arrived on the bridge. Harry smiled at her as he turned his station over to Ensign Swinn. He gestured for Seven to precede him into the briefing room, a somewhat archaic element of chivalry that had nonetheless persisted into the 24th century. She briefly considered informing him that such manners were irrelevant but instead she simply nodded and continued on her way.

She was surprised to find Chakotay already present as he most often arrived with the captain, having previously been in conference with her. He glanced up as she and Harry entered but though she quirked an eyebrow at him in silent question, he ignored her and looked back down at the PADD he was holding. Although she'd already been questioning the wisdom of continuing their association, his implicit dismissal was unexpected.

She hesitated before sitting and observed Harry watching her out of the corner of her eye. He was frowning and then glanced from her to the first officer and back. Seven looked him directly, hoping to dissuade him from any speculation. As it had been her first serious foray into the realm of dating, she had been nervous about public opinion and Chakotay had been more than willing to keep their relationship out of the crew's collective eye. Only now she was beginning to wonder if perhaps his reticence had more to do with unresolved issues with the captain.

The notion was uncomfortable and she shifted in her seat. When she had selected Chakotay as a potential romantic suitor, she had been doing so on a mostly pragmatic basis. The ship was still some thirty years from Federation space and since Lieutenants Paris and Torres had formalized their relationship, she'd noticed that the number of partnered crew, which had previously been in a constant state of flux, had stabilized with a number of associations becoming more or less permanent. Unwilling to be left out, she had begun to rate the individuals that did not appear in fixed relationships on their partner potential.

Only two individuals had rated high enough on her scale of combined factors to warrant pursuit and she had decided that the captain was both unwilling to engage in intimate relationships with a member of her crew and was drawn to the opposite sex, making her unlikely to accept Seven's suit twice over. Initially some rumours had lead her to believe that the Commander might also eschew an intimate relationship with a crew member but as his position was less certain than the captain's, she had approached him.

She had not been concerned about potential rejection, having already decided her next three targets if he did not respond favourably to her attention. However, that had become a moot point when he'd accepted her dinner invitation. The dinner had gone well, as had the supper a couple evenings later. She had been nervous about their picnic as it seemed to signify a deeper level of attachment than the previous engagements. To lose him at this point would not be unbearable but she was conscious of an unexpected pang at the thought.

Tuvok entered and took his seat, followed shortly by the doctor and then the captain. She wondered if perhaps both lieutenants had been excused from the meeting on the basis of the arrival of their daughter as the captain nodded to those already present and launched into an explanation of their mission. Even if she hadn't been called to the ready room the previous afternoon, she would have known from the captain's demeanour that there were unanswered questions regarding their welcome back to Federation space. As the files were now successfully encrypted however, she focused on the disparate and puzzling information the captain presented regarding numerous missing ships.

@>---,---\-----

After B'Elanna had left his office, Chakotay had been left alone to think over what she'd said. He'd tried not to but after seven years, the instinct to abject anger had dulled. He'd only to look at the PADD on his desk to verify that it was B'Elanna who had requested to appear at the briefing - the request and Janeway's denial were documented, as was the appeal with affirmation from both the Doctor and Tom.

The idea that Janeway would have arrested him and the rest of his crew seven years ago still preyed on his frustration, but again B'Elanna had been correct that he would have had no hesitation in firing on a Federation ship if it had tried to take the Val Jean. An image of Voyager's bridge, hazy with smoke and irregular lighting appeared in his mind, drawing upon far too many real instances of the past seven years.

He could imagine Tuvok dead behind his stations, his dark skin singed black from the explosion that had killed him and wetly green where the Vulcan's blood had not yet dried. And he could picture Harry, body bent and broken behind the twisted remains of the Ops terminal. The hunched red shoulders at the unresponsive conn were unfamiliar, but the receding blond head of the corpse on the deck nearby was obviously Tom's. His imagination tracked toward the center seat even as he knotted in fists in denial of what his mind showed him could have been the very real percussions of a battle between the Val Jean and Voyager.

Her chair was vacant, a dark stain on the back and seat gleamed red in the flickering light. And her crumpled body on the floor before it, chestnut hair black and matted against her skull, uniform torn and vacant eyes staring up at him a he surveyed the horrific scene.

With a yell, he wrenched himself out of the dark vision, hurling the PADD at the wall as if to cast away the idea of such destruction. He'd stood there, panting, for several minutes before he could call himself composed. As much as he hated to admit it, there was no doubt that he would have defended his crew and his ship to the death seven years ago. It was true even now, though he knew any enemy he faced today would not be a petite starship captain he'd long since called friend. Rather, she would be there at his right hand as he had been at her left, fighting with dogged determination for the safety of *their* crew and *their* ship.

The more recent and unfortunately accurate memory of how he'd yelled at her in the ready room a scant half hour before intruded. Even through her practiced mask, he'd been able to see the hurt as he'd accused her. He'd turned a blind eye to it then, able to convince himself it was another one of her ploys to play on his emotions but that justification faded with his anger and he was left with the disturbing realization that he had grievously injured her. For as much as she had hid her emotions from the crew, she'd never been entirely capable of the same with him, so he knew that she lost a fraction of herself with ever death, excised another piece with every failed attempt to get home.

When the computer notified him that that briefing was to begin in five minutes time, he'd been half tempted to ignore it. He felt guilty and half sick over the way he'd treated Janeway this morning, and even partially last night. With little effort, he could see her face as she voiced what had been her position so long ago, could read the sorrow and regret in her eyes as though she knew even before she spoke that the truth had become their enemy. No matter how much he might wish to hide away from the consequences of his behaviour, he knew that he had to go, had to face her. If his behaviour had been uncalled for, the failure to own up to it would have been pure cowardice.

Reluctantly, he retrieved the PADD from the deck at the foot of the bulkhead, glad that only a spider web of cracks in one corner of the casing betrayed his loss of temper. He left the office and took a moment in the head behind Ops to refresh himself before entering the briefing room from the corridor. He was the first one to arrive and seated himself in his customary position, though he was unable to take his ease in the chair that had conformed to his body almost as much as his chair on the bridge and the one in his office.

To pass the time, he activated the PADD and reviewed the proposed outline. After leaving the reports in the ready room the night before, he'd been unable to redownload them as the message had been locked to Janeway's voice print. He thought he recalled sufficient information to not be totally lost in the discussion but wished again that he'd not been so hasty to anger.

He glanced up when Seven entered, closely trailed by Harry. When he'd gone to her last night, he'd hoped for some sort of validation of his anger, but she had greeted him with her usual cool detachment. They hadn't been seeing each other long enough for him to have determined if her response would have differed in other circumstances, but the polite formality had not been what he'd been hoping for and he hadn't prolonged the conversation. Now, he caught her surprise but felt unequal to providing an explanation for his distance at present.

Rather than giving her an opportunity to question him, he pretended interest in his PADD. He didn't care if she thought it was information related to the briefing or a torrid Klingon romance, as long as it dissuaded Seven from approaching him, he'd keep reading over the briefing outline. He was so fixated on his ruse that he barely registered when Tuvok and then the Doctor arrived. When the door hissed again, he didn't take his eyes off the PADD until he registered a movement on his right.

As Janeway took her seat at the head of the table, he finally dropped his pretence of preoccupation and placed the deactivated PADD on the table before him. He knew that he couldn't derail the meeting to apologize – that would have to wait for later – but he could attempt to atone for his poor behaviour by giving his full attention to the discussion. She glanced at him and it was all he could do to maintain a politely interested expression. He wanted to smile, to grin, and let her know that all was forgiven but knew that it would just put her off her stride. He didn't want to cause any more disruptions, he just wanted to make things right.

Janeway frowned slightly and he knew he'd made the right decision. She looked down at her own PADD, then set it aside and stood. "Lieutenants Paris and Torres have been temporarily delayed but will join us shortly." Harry made a small sound of surprise -- apparently he had not read the meeting outline before hand -- and Seven's ocular implant twitched slightly, but there was no other reaction. "As you all are aware, we've been requested to proceed to sector one five three to investigate the recent disappearance of the USS Shambhala.

"Although our orders conferred no additional data about this mission, I received an anonymous communique shortly thereafter. There were no clues to the sender's identity, and the audio was a pre-recorded music file. The bulk of the message was comprised in a number of attached documents which detail the disappearances of several other ships in or around the same area of space. If we had more time, I'd prefer to verify the identity and veracity of these files but as it is, I believe our best option is to analyse --"

Janeway stopped as the door to the bridge slid open to admit Tom and B'Elanna. Chakotay was surprised and pleased to see Miral resting quietly in her father's arms. The pilot and engineer made a murmured apology for their tardiness and slid into adjacent seats. The captain smiled fondly at the pair and Chakotay wondered how he could ever have imagined that she had been dismissive of their daughter's birth.

"As I was saying, I believe our best option is to analyze the information in these files with the assumption that they are indeed accurate. Due to the irregularities surrounding our homecoming, I feel that we should take every precaution on this investigation. Just because we are finally in Federation space, I don't want us to drop our guard. It's kept us alive for seven years, so I see no reason to change."

"Captain, if I may?" B'Elanna had pushed back her seat.

Janeway nodded.

"I had the opportunity to review the bulk of the files over night and I do believe they are genuine. The documents include information on two Federation starships and the data in the reports is consistent with the information already present in the historical records in the computer. The exact location of the Timgad at the time of her disappearance was unknown, but her last contact put her en route to sector one five three. Additionally, the assignment of her cadet crew was a detailed analysis of the loss of the original Kobayashi Maru, according to the lesson plan of the instructor in charge of the voyage.

"It's a little harder to validate the information on the non-Federation ships, particularly as the original files seem to have been classified, but the information does seem to be consistent. I checked the original Klingon against what the computer translated and it's a match. I don't know about the information from Andor, but that file is mostly supposition so I don't think we're missing anything."

"Thank you, B'Elanna."

B'Elanna nodded and settled back into her seat just about the same time that Miral began to squall from her father's arms. Chakotay couldn't help but smile as the new mother deftly retrieved the infant and settled her to nursing without batting an eye. It drew the attention of most of the table for a moment, but as soon as Miral was settled, they all returned their attention to Janeway who had patiently waited out the momentary distraction.

"Seven, I'd like to work on analyzing the various sensor readings included in these reports. Harry, I'd like you to work with Seven. If you have time, you can see if you can determine the identity of our anonymous sender but that is low priority for now." She detoured to the head of the table and picked up two PADDs which she then handed off. "The original message was locked to my voice print, so you won't be able to request copies of the files from the main computer."

Chakotay wondered if she'd noticed that he'd left his PADDs in her ready room when he'd stormed out last night or if she was just noting the restriction as a matter of course.

"Captain?" B'Elanna looked up from her suckling daughter.

"Yes, B'Elanna?"

"I'd like to continue my own analysis. I didn't get too far in to the sensor readings last night." He couldn't help but noted that B'Elanna looked perfectly serene as she made the request. Instead, it was Tom who looked slightly uncomfortable and Chakotay wondered if the pilot was concerned about his wife working so soon or if his discomfort stemmed from another source.

Janeway, for her part, smiled kindly at B'Elanna but quickly shifted her attention to Tom and then the EMH. "Doctor, do you have any concerns?"

The EMH looked momentarily startled, but then drew himself up importantly. "I will need to ensure that Lieutenant Torres is not over taxing her energy and would like to provide a monitor for her and Miral to be on the safe side, but as long as she refrains from crawling about the bowels of the ship, I don't see any problems, Captain."

"Well, I do!" Tom spoke up, glaring at the Doctor before swinging around to address his wife. "I didn't get much sleep last night and I know you didn't get any more than I did, B'E! And personally, I'd like a couple of days to get acquainted with my daughter."

Chakotay privately cheered Tom for his sense, even as he could see B'Elanna's expression tightening. Miral began to fuss slightly and B'Elanna adjusted her slightly without breaking her glare. "It's not like I'm going to be reading reports down in engineering, Tom."

Four years ago when B'Elanna and Tom had first embarked on their relationship, Chakotay had asked Torres if she was sure Tom had the fortitude. She had assured him that he did, but Chakotay had only had rare opportunities to witness it. This was one of those rare times. Even though his expression remained tender, there was a hardening in the pilot's eyes. "I know that. And I know that the ship doesn't stop just because you had a baby. But isn't it just possible that someone else could look over these reports?" He glanced around the table, looking for support which slightly ruined the effect.

B'Elanna bristled but before she could respond, Janeway interjected. "Lieutenant, I appreciate the offer, but perhaps you two should discuss this after the briefing." The statement earned her a glowering scowl from B'Elanna but Tom relaxed. "That's not to say that I'm siding with you, Tom. I trust B'Elanna to know her limits and I think you should, too. But that is a discussion the two of you should have in private." Both lieutenants glared at each other but subsided.

Janeway returned to the head of the table but remained standing. "Does any one have anything further to add?"

Chakotay glanced around. Aside from not knowing exactly what she expected of him -- he reminded himself that if he hadn't stormed out on her last night and then verbally attacked her this morning, he would probably have a much better idea about that -- Chakotay felt she'd covered everything immediately relevant.

"Captain --" The EMH spoke up as the rest of the staff shook their head. Chakotay didn't miss Janeway's supressed sigh. Despite his advancements in terms of his personality, the Doctor's pedantic attitude could still be extremely trying.

"Doctor, I haven't forgotten about you. I have some paperwork to go over with you later, but I'd like to focus on the mission for the moment. I'll forward the documents to you so you can read through them in the meantime."

When the Doctor nodded, Chakotay noticed Janeway close her eyes and he realized that she was probably more tired than he'd given her credit for. It also sounded like she had a lot more going on than he'd been privy to and wondered how he'd missed it.

@>---,---\-----

Janeway hadn't been oblivious to her first officer's new, improved attitude, but she wasn't entirely sure of whether he was simply not bringing their conflict into the briefing (slim chance, since he'd managed to air it to the entire bridge when he'd stormed out that morning), or if he really was done with his snit. He had been more attentive to the technical portions of the briefing that he typically was - not that most of the crew would notice, but she could always tell when his eyes glazed over.

She smiled as she closed out the meeting, hoping she'd have more time to coo over Miral before they returned to Earth and she would be tied up with briefings for a good three months. Even if their homecoming wasn't all she'd dreamt it could be, she was genuinely happy to be back in Federation space. She'd be happier still when the comm silence order was lifted and she could see her mother and sister, but at least they weren't travelling through uncharted space where belligerent aliens might attack at any moment.

She watched as Harry crowded along side an unprotesting B'Elanna to wiggle his fingers at the newborn. Apparently his momentary embarrassment at witnessing Miral's feeding had faded and he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that the infant was still latched on to her mother's breast. Seven appeared to be observing the interaction with a vaguely sceptical expression. From experience, Janeway suspected that the former drone found the amount of attention garnered by the baby to be odd, but also engaging.

She really had come a very long way over the past four years and Janeway couldn't fault Chakotay for being attracted to her. Seven was very attractive, at least in the conventional physical sense, and her personality had vastly improved from the argumentative and abrasive attitude she'd had at the beginning. And the catsuits that helped support her remaining dermal implants certainly didn't do anything to disguise her statuesque figure. Seven glanced back and at first Janeway thought she confused by the observation but then realized the younger woman was looking for Chakotay who had stood but not joined the procession from the briefing room.

He didn't look like he was lingering to harangue her about allowing B'Elanna to attend the meeting again, but she also knew that she'd put an inadvertent kibosh on their dinner plans the night before and perhaps they'd made lunch plans instead. "Commander?"

"Yes?" He looked up, apparently unaware that he was the focus of attention of not just one but two women at the moment.

"Is --" she wanted to enquire if he had something further to discuss but she didn't have the energy to face another upbraiding if that was what he was planning. Forcing a smile she didn't entirely feel, she aborted the enquiry, "I believe Seven is waiting on you."

At that he glanced toward the door and realized that, in fact, Seven was there, watching curiously. "Oh."

He certainly didn't seem in any hurry to be off on a date, but then Janeway realized that as they'd drifted apart over the past year, she really wasn't attuned to his reactions anymore. It was a depressing thought that they could so completely come apart after working together for so long, but they'd all been through a lot and to think that they wouldn't have changed with all their trials was folly. He still made no move to join Seven and rather than stick around feeling like a third wheel, she picked up her own PADDs. "You'll excuse me."

She circled the table away from Chakotay and gave a brief nod to Seven as she passed. Although she believed that the Admiral had been honest when she claimed that Chakotay and Seven had married in her timeline, Janeway found herself wondering how happy that union had been. Obviously, their path, everyone's path, had changed with trip through the transwarp conduit, but she couldn't help feel that it seemed the relationship had suffered grievous harm in just a couple days. She didn't know how long it had been going on but couldn't help but worry that the set back might be detrimental to Seven's progress.

The door hissed shut behind her and she nodded politely to the bridge crew as she crossed to the ready room. "Tuvok, you have the bridge." It crossed her mind that she could change the duty roster to give Chakotay and Seven some time to work things out, but they really couldn't afford it at the moment. She could, theoretically, call an all stop and have them just hang in space for a few hours, but she felt the surreptitious eyes of Starfleet on them and suspected that an unnecessary delay would not be welcomed.

She sank into her desk chair and the documents still open from when she was rudely interrupted by Chakotay reminded her of what she'd been working on. "Janeway to Ensign Wildman, please report to the ready room." She wanted to be able to have the appropriate paperwork for Icheb filed as soon as possible.

A moment later, the door chimed. As Sam had been on the bridge when she'd passed through on her way to the briefing, she was surprised when Chakotay entered instead of the blond science officer.

“Commander?” Apparently, whatever Seven had wanted hadn't taken very long. She frowned slightly, rather wishing he could have been occupied at least a bit longer. “I have something to go over with Ensign Wildman. Is this something that can wait?”

It was obvious that he didn't want it to wait but was weighing whether his urgency was really imperative. “Ah, I suppose. Is there anything I can help with?”

Janeway was bemused by the question and barely resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow. After his inattention over the past couple weeks, the offer of assistance was more than a little surprising. There were any number of things that she'd be glad for help with but she didn't want to hand them off if he wasn't really committed. Her hesitation paid off as the chime sounded again and doors slid open to admit Sam Wildman.

"You'll excuse me, Commander?" She made it sound like a question for Samantha's benefit, but knew Chakotay would understand the implied command. He nodded and returned to the bridge without a word. She breathed out a slow breath that she hadn't been aware of holding. "Hello, Samantha. How are you?" She gestured for the science officer to take a seat.

"Fine, thank you, Captain. Uh, is something wrong?"

Janeway shook her head, smiling. The ensign certainly had any number of things that might have been wrong, but so far nothing had crossed the captain's desk. "No, not at all, Ensign." She wished she had time for small talk as she would have loved to hear how Naomi was facing their abrupt return. Instead, she got to the point. "I have some concerns regarding Icheb and I was hoping you could help me out. Naomi seems to spend a fair amount of time with him, as I understand. He's been helping with some of her schooling?"

Wildman nodded slowly. "Yes, that's correct. It's been quite a boon since Neelix left, really."

It was clear that the ensign was still ill-at-ease, and Janeway realized Samantha probably thought there was a question regarding the boy's behaviour. "It's fine, Samantha. He's very bright and I'm sure Naomi is glad to have someone around at least a little closer to her own age. The issue is that, as a Brunali, he's not a Federation citizen. I had thought that he'd probably be of age to petition for citizenship himself by the time we got home, but circumstances have changed." She couldn't help but smile at that. The idea of being back in Federation space was still novel and uplifting no matter how unsettled things were on both the professional and personal fronts.

"Is that a problem? I mean, they won't try to repatriate him, or something?"

"No, I don't think so. That would be rather difficult after all. But I would like to get the appropriate citizenship documents in as quickly as possible. Since he's under-age, he needs to have an adult that's willing to vouch for him as well as take the position of a guardian. As his captain, I'm more than willing to do both but I thought he might appreciate it being someone with whom he's more familiar."

Janeway could see a fraction of concern and confusion still lurking in the younger woman's eyes, but a more protective, determined expression had taken over the rest of her face. "And you were wondering if I'd be willing?"

"Yes, thought it's not a command, Samantha. I'm sure you'll be busy settling back in here, catching up with your husband. If you think it'll be too much, I'm sure my mother will be happy to have him in our home."

"No, that's quite alright, Captain. I'd like to do it. Naomi is very fond of him and I think it would help her quite a bit to have someone else from the ship around. I imagine that I'll be tied up with debriefings at least initially and they'll be able to continue their studies together. When I last spoke to Greskrentregk, he was still on Deep Space 9 so they'll also be able to keep each other company there."

"I'm sure Starfleet will do it's best to ensure that we're all reunited with our friends and family as soon as possible, Sam. I wouldn't be surprised if he's already en route to Earth to meet you." That same nervous knot that had recalled her to her ready room the day before tightened, but Janeway wouldn't allow her own concerns to cloud the homecoming for the rest of her crew.

“I hope you're right, Captain. Naomi has talked to him once via Pathfinder, but three minutes is hardly enough for a proper introduction.” Sam smiled. “I know she's nervous about leaving Voyager, but she's eager to get to know her father.”

“No, I don't suppose three minutes is enough, especially for such an important introduction.” It was unfortunate that the matter hadn't occurred to her before, or she would have made arrangements to allow the Wildmans a bit more than the standard three minutes, but now they were back in Federation space and Naomi would soon have the opportunity to meet her father in person. “Here are the documents, Ensign. I've already entered all the general information, so all that's left should be his and your signature.”

“Thank you, Captain. And thank you for thinking of it. Permission to be excused?” Janeway nodded and Samantha clutched the PADD to her chest as she stood and turned toward the door. She was almost at the door when she turned back. “Oh! Will Seven be alright?”

“Yes.” Janeway nodded succinctly. Seven wasn't her favourite person to talk about just then, but regardless of her personal feelings toward the young Borg woman, Janeway would never let her emotions endanger a member of her crew. “She is Human and born on Earth, so she should already be a citizen, but I also have documents for her if the Federation won't honour that.”

“Of course. Thank you, Captain. Naomi will be very glad to know that Seven is well taken care of and I'm sure she'll be thrilled that Icheb is coming with us.”

“You're welcome. Do let me know if there are any problems. I don't think there will be, but I'd rather nip them in the bud if there are.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Samantha snapped to attention briefly before hurrying out.

Janeway barely had time to be amused by the playful affectation when the door chimed again. She sighed, knowing it was Chakotay and wishing he wouldn't press the issue right now. She could deal with him loathing her -- after the incident with the Equinox, she'd become quite practised in tuning out his self-righteous ire -- or with him being apathetic, but with the puzzling mission and concerns about the disposition of her crew when they finally landed on Earth, she did not have the energy to continually justifying herself to him.

"Come." She glanced up only long enough to verify that she had guessed correctly this time. "What is it, Commander?" To her annoyance, he slid into one of the chairs, indicated that he was planning on staying a while.

"I wanted to apologize."

Her hands stilled where she'd been pretending interest in some PADDs. Although she'd noticed his change of attitude in the briefing but it was such a quick turn around from his earlier anger that she hadn't wanted to count on it being as a result of him coming to his senses. Still, she didn't dare look up, not wanting to let him know how much his behaviour had stung. But she also wasn't going to make this easy on him either. While she understood his anger from last night, he'd been completely out of line this morning. "For?"

He was silent for a moment and she chanced a glance through her eyelashes to see him frowning. To be fair, he was much better at owning up to his mistakes than she was, but this time it had been personal and she wasn't going to take anything less than a fully articulated demonstration of regret.

"I should have checked my facts this morning. I know you care about the crew and it was out of line for me to accuse you of manipulating B'Elanna in to working."

"Yes, it was." Her voice was hard and flinty and when she looked up, she was pleased to noted that he seemed genuinely sorry with just a hint of fear. Good. "Let me be clear, Commander. I am aware of my faults and I'll admit that I have manipulated people in the past. But to accuse me of forcing B'Elanna away from her newborn daughter was unconscionable."

"I know, and I'm sorry, Kathryn. My only excuse is . . . no, there is no excuse. I hadn't taken the time to think things through clearly and I took my frustrations out on you."

"Thank you." She looked down at her desk, striving to maintain her composure. "I'll be honest; it hurt to think you really thought that of me. I know you felt betrayed by what I shared with you last night and I'm sorry about that. I could have told you that I would have disobeyed orders and let you go, or even joined forces with you, but that would have been dishonest and although I'm aware that hasn't always stopped me before, it would have been a disservice to you to lie about that. But I do want you to know that even if we'd found a way home in that first year, even the first month, I don't think I could have done it."

Chakotay dropped his gaze to his knees but not before Janeway saw the slight easing of tension from his face. She was glad that they had gotten that minor conflict smoothed out. They would need to present a united front during debriefing and that would be much easier if they weren't parsing each others words for hidden meaning or potential betrayal.

“Thank you. I . . . I guess it was just a rude awakening for me. B'Elanna had to remind me that I would have shot Voyager out of the sky.”

“You would have tried.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. Although she was confident in Voyager's ability to come out on top in a fire fight, particularly against the aged Val Jean, the idea of facing off against them was disquieting and she suddenly realized that this was probably how Chakotay had felt last night. “I'm glad it never came to that.”

“That makes two of us,” he smiled, but Janeway could tell that he was itching to contradict her statement about who would have won in such an event. To tell the truth, it probably would have been quite a battle, for the Maquis were skilled and canny fighters. She'd read many reports in preparing for Voyager's original mission and she could cite numerous instances in which a better armed and faster Starfleet or Cardassian vessel had been bested by the guerrilla tactics of the Maquis. She was acutely aware that it had probably been the unique talents of their combined crew that had allowed them to survive the Delta quadrant.

“Tuvok to Captain Janeway.”

Janeway sighed; she had been enjoying their tête–à–tête. “Janeway here.”

“Captain, we will be entering sector one-five-three in approximately four point seven minutes.”

“Acknowledged. I'll be on the bridge shortly.” She glanced at Chakotay regretfully, hating to call an end to their chat. They'd had few opportunities of late to simply talk, a circumstance for which they both shared the blame. She'd never quite had the chance to catch her breath after the upheaval of Quarra and Chakotay had been preoccupied with his new relationship. “I'm sorry--”

Chakotay shook his head ruefully, “We were lucky to get a few minutes uninterrupted.”

"True." She stood, then stepped around her desk. "Join me?" She gestured for him to precede her onto the bridge. He gave her a last smile as he turned to the door, causing a flash of memory. It had been after her encounter with the entity that had tried to convince her to enter its matrix. The thought made her smile and she emerged on the bridge in a better mood than she probably had been in for several weeks.

"Report!" She glanced at Tuvok as she took her seat.

"We will reach sector one-five-three in eighty-six seconds, Captain. From that point, it will take one hour and forty seven minutes at our current speed to reach the last known location of the Shambhala."

Janeway nodded, then turned forward. "Helm, drop to warp two once we cross into sector one-five-three." She didn't wait to hear the muttered acknowledgement before flipping open the command console. The slower speed would given them almost six more hours to review the data. Regardless of whether the other reports were legitimate or not, she didn't want to rush into space that had already swallowed at least one starship. She sent an updated time table to astrometrics and to B'Elanna, and hoped that the few extra hours would give them enough time to make a reasonably thorough analysis of the data. She would continue to review it on her own console.

"With your permission, captain, I'd like to go down to astrometrics to check on their progress?"

She glanced up at Chakotay, doubting that "checking their progress" was really the impetus behind his request. Half tempted to deny him, she nonetheless nodded. There wasn't much he could do on the bridge anyhow. "Permission granted."

He nodded and left the bridge.

Chapter Text

Chapter Ten

Harry looked up as the doors to astrometrics slid open. The generally dim lighting of the lab and the brightness of the corridor obscured the features but he recognized the silhouette of Commander Chakotay. Seven greet him briskly.

“Commander, we have analysed approximately eighty three percent of the data on the other ships. Much of the information is irrelevant.”

Harry turned his attention back to his analysis, hiding a smile. She wasn't wrong – a large part of the reports were based on little more than conjecture about incomplete data. They'd spent the first five minutes separating suspect conclusions from feasible theories. Seven had been particularly aggrieved by the crew of the Halifax. It was the only Federation ship to have witnessed the disappearance first hand, rather than through telemetry that had bounced around from relay to relay after the ship originating the content was destroyed before defining a stop point.

Wondering just how long some of this info had been playing the space-age version of “Telephone”, Harry had set one of the auxiliary consoles to chart the path of the “live” feed the captain of the Roanoke had initiated shortly before both his ship and the civilian Kobayashi Maru had disappeared. When he'd checked it after five minutes, the message had already routed through the priority communications array at Utopia Planetia twice.

“Sir, even though we haven't finished, we have been able to eliminate a few possibilities. We know that the disappearances are not caused by a pocket of chaotic space or a graviton ellipse. And, although the glow that was reported as surrounding the 'wI batlh in its last moments resembles the energy flare from fluidic space, it's not that, either.”

The commander nodded gravely and Harry swallowed. He'd gained a lot of self-confidence over the years but Chakotay and the captain were both able to render him back to the babbling ensign of yesteryear with just a look. “Okay, so we have some idea of what ships aren't running into; do we have any leads on what they are encountering?”

“Not as yet.” Seven gestured for the commander to see some of the information they were still working on. “There are superficial similarities with the sensor data regarding the living nebula Voyager encountered in its first year, as well as the 'ghost' we picked up in the Class J nebula late last year.”

The commander's expression mirrored how Harry had felt when he first made the observation. “Is it alive?”

“That has yet to be determined. It is unlikely that we will be able to definitively define the nature of the anomaly based only on the data in these reports. I believe that we will need to observe the phenomenon directly in order to obtain the information required.”

“Great,” Harry muttered. They were so close to home, only a few sectors away from Earth and his parents, but they were headed in the wrong direction. He was tempted to press Chakotay for why Starfleet had sent them out on an errand before any one of them could even enjoy the sight of that lovely green and blue planet. He'd been willing to put aside his eagerness to see home again when it meant the likelihood of striking a potentially crushing blow to the Borg, but this mission wasn't about saving the galaxy and intensive scanning would take time.

Both Seven and Chakotay glanced at him sharply. Seven, with her enhanced Borg hearing, had probably been able to hear exactly what he'd said, but he was reasonably confident that the first officer had not been able to discern the words. In any case, his opinion on whether or not the captain would or should order the ship into danger when they were this close to home could hardly be considered salient to the discussion. Instead, he offered up something of a rueful shrug.

“Sorry, I just, I really want to be home. I know I supported the captain's idea about destroying the hub, but there was a purpose there. I mean, there's a purpose here, too, but it's not as big. Blowing up the hub, and the queen, well, that could really set the Borg back, maybe keep them from endangering the Alpha quadrant for a while. But now we're just scanning and looking for a reason after the fact. Anything we do here isn't going to bring the Shambhala back, it's just going to be a foot note in Starfleet records.”

Harry stopped talking and shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. He supposed that Seven probably wasn't looking forward to being back on Earth – although she'd regained some memories of her life before her assimilation, as far as he knew none of them included anything prior to her time on the Raven. There was a possibility, too, that people on Earth wouldn't accept her easily. Even though it had been a decade since Wolf 359, there was still a lot of anti-Borg sentiment left in the Federation and on Earth particularly.

"Do you think your parents thought it was a waste of man-power to search for Voyager in the Badlands?" Chakotay had fixed him with a searching look.

"No, sir."

"Then I'm sure you can appreciate that the families of the Shambhala's crew would not consider what we are doing to be a waste of time." The commander's voice had taken on the low, serious tone that it only seemed to get when he was particularly angry. At least the commander hadn't called him "ensign".

Harry swallowed. "No, sir, I mean, yes, sir." His cheeks felt warm and he glanced down at his console. "Permission to go back to my analysis, sir?" He felt like an idiot and wanted more than anything for Seven and Chakotay's attention to be off him.

"Granted."

Breathing out a relieved breath, Harry turned back to his work. It wasn't really something that needed a lot of attention; the computer was really doing the analysis, taking the data from the missing ship reports and comparing it with data that it already had on file, but Harry liked to keep an eye on the process. Although the algorithms ensured that the computer didn't discard information that wasn't an exact match, it wasn't perfect. As a result, Harry found his attention drawn back to the commander and Seven.

They'd moved away slightly, still near her station so she could be tracking her results, but the angle made that unlikely. They were talking, or rather Chakotay was talking, in a low, intense tone. Harry couldn't make out what they were saying but it didn't look like an entirely easy conversation. Seven looked unperturbed as usual, but Chakotay seemed tense. He finished speaking and Seven made a brief reply before turning fully to her station. The expression of surprise, relief, and hope on the commander's face was almost comical. Chakotay shook his head slightly and Harry ducked his head, trying to look completely enthralled in his work. He was sure the commander would not be pleased at having been observed.

A moment later, Chakotay strode past, leaving astrometrics with more intent than he'd entered. Harry wondered idly what the conversation had been about but then his console beeped indicating a potential match and Harry focused on his work.

@>---,---\-----

Chakotay was half-way to the turbolift before he realized that he was almost running and checked his gate. As much as he wanted to rush up to the bridge and confront Janeway with the information that Seven had shared, now wasn't the time. They were quickly nearing what was potentially a very dangerous area of space and Voyager would need both her captain and commander focused on the mission at hand and not distracted by personal issues.

Still, he was aware that his step was lighter than it had been when he'd headed for astrometrics twenty minutes ago. Hopefully, Voyager would arrive in the area where the Shambhala had gone missing, either find residual traces that pointed to a known anomaly, or find readings that strongly enough resembled a theoretical phenomenon that Starfleet could be satisfied with the explanation for the missing ship, and then be headed back to Earth by tomorrow. Once they were underway, he would approach Kathryn with Seven's observation and see if perhaps they could move on from there.

For now, however, he would simply return to the bridge, brief her on Harry and Seven's progress, and then be content to act as her sounding board as she formulated her own theories.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven

Alpha quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54981.2

Earth

Outside, it was a perfect mid-winter day in San Francisco, with a crisp blue sky and an invigorating breeze blowing in from the Pacific. It was, perhaps, a trifle cool, with the temperature only hitting twenty-two degrees by two pm, but as for what one could see from an Admiral's office at Starfleet headquarters, it was the perfect day. But all the perfect weather in the world was not going to put Hayes in a good mood.

He had worked hard for his position in Starfleet, serving as a captain on the front lines of the Cardassian/Federation war over twenty years ago. That someone had played him for a fool did not sit well. His fingers clenched reflexively on the PADD he held, his grip fierce enough to cause the screen to discolour and then blank. With a growl of frustration, he hurled the hapless device at transparent aluminium that separated him from the lovely day outside.

The mission to investigate the Shambhala's disappearance was legitimate, at least on the surface. When the ship had abruptly stopped communicating four days ago, there were any number of theories proposed, from an ambush by the Klingons to an encounter with a rogue Jem'Hadar ship. The former had obviously been more likely than the latter, but in reality, they didn't know any more than Deep Space K-7 did when the Shambhala had deviated from it's planned route to Acamar in sector one-five-three.

He had been aware at some point, he was sure, that the original Kobayashi Maru and the Roanoke had been destroyed in the same area of space. He might have even read a report once that mentioned that the Timgad had vanished in the same area. But space was vast and the number of ways in which a ship could be disabled or destroyed was innumerable. The fact that one other ship had disappeared in the same area was hardly cause for concern.

But it hadn't been just one other ship. The same PADD that he'd launched at the window had listed a half-dozen ships that had gone missing or been listed as destroyed in the self-same area. No, they weren't all Federation ships. In fact, it appeared that whatever was swallowing ships whole didn't have any particular favourite as far as species since the list included as many Klingon ships as it did Federation ships, with an Andorian ship thrown in for more variety.

And yet, he had been the one to order Voyager and her long-lost crew to not come home but rather to go investigate the disappearance of the Shambhala. After seven years on the far side of the galaxy, if there was a ship and crew that ever deserved to be brought home and celebrated the way Voyager did, it was not a ship in his memory.

To make it worse, he liked Kathryn Janeway. He'd served under her father as a young man, and although he'd had limited experience with the younger Janeway, it had been been enough to convince him that she was cut from similar cloth as her father. What's more, the reports they'd received from Voyager via the Pathfinder communications illustrated that she was the type of person to stick to her morals even when they were inconvenient.

Far too often in the recent years had Hayes seen respected officers abandon their personal ethics in the interest of winning even minor battles. To be sure, there were a few dings on Janeway's record as well, but in the course of seven years under unimaginable stresses,she had only faulted on a few isolated occasions. As far as Hayes was concerned, they needed more officers of Janeway's calibre in Starfleet, particularly now.

Many of those officers who had seen fit to prioritize the ends over the means were current flag officers and they were now instilling that same mindset in their juniors. It wasn't unknown, or even all that unexpected, for officers in fraught circumstances to adjust their expectations. Good officers made the adjustments temporary and found their way back to their moral center when the circumstances had passed. Great officers found avenues of escape that didn't compromise their morals in the first place.

But in assigning Voyager to investigate the disappearance of the Shambhala, he might very well have doomed the ship, her crew, and her captain. The Klingons were tetchy enough at this point, without having Starfleet snooping around their borders. That, on top of the mounting evidence that something in that very particular section of space liked to swallow starships whole, told Hayes that someone most likely did not want Voyager landing triumphantly on the Presidio grounds.

At least it seemed that someone had been more on the ball than he had, and sent along the information on the other ship disappearances. His suspicions were leaning toward both Paris and Patterson as they were known to consider Voyager's captain a friend, but whomever had sent the data had covered their tracks very, very well.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twelve

Beta quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54981.8

USS Voyager

As Voyager continued to near the Shambhala's last known coordinates, tension mounted on her bridge. It almost felt like they were preparing for battle, Janeway thought, as she reviewed the reports for the umpteenth time. Restless energy seemed to thrum through every muscle, but she forced herself to stay focused on the material she was reading. She could have excused herself to her ready room, and knew the crew would have thought little of it, but they didn't have that luxury so she was determined to tough it out.

She'd set a final briefing for one hour before they were due to arrive at the suspect coordinates. If they were lucky, they would have some idea of what they might find when they got there and could be prepared. If not, at least they could cover the likeliest possibilities.

Nearly every science officer on the ship had received copies of the reports on the missing ships, and already their analyses had begun to trickle in. She'd forwarded them to Chakotay, taking him up on his earlier offer of help by recruiting him to review the analyses. Voyager had over thirty individuals with scientific qualifications relating to interstellar phenomena and Janeway wasn't above plumbing every resource she had.

"Captain?”

It had been nearly two decades since she'd last spent so much time pouring over scientific data. Voyager had had a heyday in the Delta quadrant and Starfleet would be richly rewarded with the gigaquads of data they had accumulated on the journey, but aside from the occasional indulgence, as captain Janeway had been forced to curb her natural curiosity and impulse to dive into the various theories and ideas. On those occasions, when she had been able to lose herself in theorems and equations, she'd been able to recapture the delight and joy of her earliest years in Starfleet, however briefly.

"Captain?"

And while the wonder of examining a potentially new (or at least, newly verified) type of anomaly or phenomenon was still present, it was strongly tempered today by the reality that whatever was out there may very well have destroyed over half a dozen ships. In all probability, if there was something there and it had destroyed the seven ships they had reports on, it was entirely likely that there were many more unreported disappearances stemming from the same thing. Although not the busiest sector along the Klingon/Federation border, one five three wasn't exactly remote, either.

"Voyager to Captain Janeway."

She was reading through the various descriptions of the 'wI batlh's destruction as seen by the bridge crew of the Halifax and comparing them with the various sensor readings when the voice finally penetrated. She looked up, not entirely sure who had spoken. Chakotay was grinning over their shared console, and a quick glance told her that the rest of the current bridge complement had probably noted her distraction. She felt a blush crawling up her neck and wasn't sure it if was embarrassment at her own distraction or a reaction to Chakotay's grin. She took a slow breath before finally answering, "Yes, Commander?"

"The briefing is about to start."

She'd been so enthralled that she'd completely lost track of the time and three hours had elapsed without her notice. "Very well." She reluctantly closed out the console. "Lieutenant Ayala, you have the bridge. If we reach the coordinates, hold distance at five thousand kilometers." She, Chakotay, and Tuvok were followed off the bridge by the typical murmurs of assent.

As she took her seat at the head of the table, she fixed her gaze on Tuvok. He hadn't had much to contribute during the morning's meeting, but he looked slightly ill-at-ease. "Tuvok?" As he'd explained it to her, his neurological condition could affect his ability to control his emotions and he would appreciate it if she addressed his discomfort now, before the rest of the staff arrived. "Is there a problem?"

"Not a problem as such, Captain. Rather, I have recalled a legend from before the days of Surak that could have some bearing on this mystery."

Beside her, Chakotay leaned forward. The Vulcans had a tendency to be less than forthcoming about their earlier history and she knew the anthropologist in him was piqued. She was glad that she'd questioned Tuvok now, because she could well imagine Paris making a comment about legends not being very logical, which would not have done anyone any good. She gestured for him to continue.

"As you may know, Vulcans originally discovered faster than light travel almost three millenia ago. Few stories persist from that age of violence and war, but one tells of the voyages of the T'lassa. The T'lassa was seeking a weapon that would help put an end to the fighting on our planet. It encountered an unknown ship 'singing' in space. At the end of its song, an enormous sanjat bloomed in space and took the ship within. Believing the sanjat to be the manifestation of a great weapon, the T'lassa approached the space where the singing ship had been, but they could find no trace of either the ship or the supposed weapon.”

Chakotay frowned, leaning in slightly. “Sorry, Tuvok, but my Vulcan botany is a little rusty. The sanjat, it's a type of flower, isn't it?”

“Yes, Commander. Specifically, it is a rare type of lily that was originally associated with a deity that represented victory in battle. It is noted for its deep red petals, which were historically used to dye the shrouds of those who fell in battle. One could hypothesize that the sanjat is a metaphor for the red glow mentioned by the crew of the Halifax.”

Janeway nodded thoughtfully. She's never studied folklore the way she suspected Chakotay had, but she knew that storytelling was an important part of many cultures, particularly as a vehicle for teaching. “Is there anything in the story that could refer to this particular area of space?”

“There are several versions of the story, as may be expected from any tale that has been passed down by oral tradition, but several versions say that the T'lassa encountered the singing ship in the shadow of a white binary. 39 Leonis lies between the indicated coordinates and Vulcan.”

“And 39 Leonis is a white binary, a class F4V, if I recall correctly.”

“You are correct, captain.” Tuvok's brows tightened almost imperceptibly. “While I would hesitate to base any decisions on the equivalent of a 'fairy tale', it has been noted that many cultures use stories to pass on information. It is possible that the T'lassa's story was originally intended to warn other ships of a potentially dangerous anomaly.”

Janeway agreed. It certainly wasn't the type of thing she was used to coming from Tuvok but there were definite similarities between the visual accounts of the Halifax crew and the T'lassa. She'd wait to hear what else her crew had come up with before determining a course of action, but in the absence of any definitive answer, the vague clues of an ancient story were a viable resource.

"I concur. Let's see what everyone else has come up with and go from there. While it may not be our usual mode of action, in this case I'm loath to throw out any potential lead, no matter how 'illogical' its origins may be." It was hard not to laugh at the decidedly annoyed look in Tuvok's eyes, but she managed it. Whether it was the effect of his disease or the result of years spent in the company of humans, Janeway had become something of a master at deciphering Tuvok's non-expressions and at the moment, he was certainly peeved.

Just then, the corridor entrance hissed open and admitted Seven and Harry. Tom and B'Elanna arrived a moment later, entering from the bridge. The time for fun was at an end. She called welcomed them all, then gave Chakotay the floor to cover those analyses from the crew that seemed to have the most merit. There were a number of thoughtful responses from their scientifically inclined crewmembers and when Chakotay returned to his seat, she caught his eye. He nodded minutely and a moment later, her own PADD flashed a notice that new data had been uploaded.

She nodded briefly, letting him know the data had been received, before turning her attention to the assembled officers. “Ensign Kim, Seven, were you able to complete your analysis of the data?”

“Yes, Captain, though we didn't learn very much.” Harry shrugged, looking rueful. “There wasn't really a lot of data to work with; as you know, all the ships vanished in the same area, but we only have eyewitness accounts for three of the seven. Most of the rest of the information is circumstantial or had been bouncing around relay beacons for so long that the data has been corrupted. We've done our best to recover it, but a lot of it was pretty far gone.”

“All right, what have you got?”

Harry stood and activated the wall panel. “Like I said, we didn't have a lot to go on. This is the general sensor profile we were able to extrapolate based on the data we had.” The chart seemed to be a confused mass of coloured lines. Janeway knew they represented levels of different particle densities and spikes in radiation levels. Certain colours were present across the width of the chart while others only appeared in brief spikes, mostly concentrated toward the right hand side of the graph.

“We used the idle reading from the Roanoke's data as a baseline. For the time it lasts, it seems pretty consistent with what the Halifax had as their background radiation readings for the area. Here,” he pointed to a blue line that followed a steady increase before spiking off the chart near the end. “This is gamma radiation. It starts out just a little elevated and slowly increases with a very minor spike here,” the image zoomed in to show a minute peak in the blue line before returning almost to previous levels, “and then ebbs almost to normal before spiking again, here.” Harry pointed to the area where nearly all the colours grazed the upper limits of the image.

“Alpha, beta, and gamma radiations all follow pretty much the same pattern. The delta radiation reading are a little more active, with small peaks here, here, and here, before going off the scale here. This intense flare of delta radiation comes in conjunction with an almost equally massive spike in thalaron radiation. Even if the ships could withstand the bombardment of radiation, their crews would be gone along with any other organic material on the ships."

Out of the corner of her eye, Janeway saw Tom wince. Miral, settled in his arms at the moment, seemed to echo his discomfort as her tiny face scrunched up for what probably would have been quite a yell had not Tom noticed and immediately set about calming and reassuring the infant. Knowing the catastrophic effects that even a minute amount of thalaron radiation could have on organic material, she was in complete agreement. "And none of this coincides with readings from any other phenomenon?"

"That is correct. Ensign Kim and I ran the sensor profile against the profiles of other interstellar phenomena that Voyager has encountered over the years as well as against the profiles of anomalies encountered by other Federation ships. We were unable to determine any significant similarities."

Harry looked slightly uncomfortable, as though he wasn't entirely on board with Seven's comment. "Well, technically, there were a few similarities, but we established a threshold of seventy-five percent similarity prior to our analysis. None of the anomalies or phenomena recorded met that." Judging by the way his eyes slid away from Seven, Janeway was willing to bet that Seven had set the threshold without consulting with Harry. She decided that someone would have to keep an eye on Seven once they were back on Earth.

She had managed most of Seven's "growing pains" with relative equanimity, but doubted that Starfleet would be as tolerant. And while they'd had their share of "chats" about how things were done on a Starfleet ship, it was patently obvious that, at times, Seven had either disregarded the advice completely out of hand or somehow determined that her way was better and justified her defiant behaviour by achieving the stated ends. "Were there any similarities that fell outside the margin of error for relevancy?"

Seven opened her mouth to answer but Harry beat her to it. "Yee-es. There were a couple of potential matches that were discarded due to their numbers either being too high or too low in any number of categories."

"I do not believe that our analysis of the data would be benefited by your subjective observations, Ensign.”

Janeway felt compelled to intervene. “Seven, while I appreciate your obviously very detailed analysis, Ensign Kim is answering the question I asked, and I would like to hear his answer.”

“The margin of error that I established took into account the lack of data and allowed for a much greater variance than normally would have been acceptable. Further expansion to include more data will simply result in significantly more false-positives and would be inefficient.”

“Thank you, Seven, but before I take this ship any closer, I want to be very sure that we're not missing something. In this instance thoroughness trumps efficiency.” Seven started to object further but Janeway held up her hand. “Seven, I've made my decision.”

The former drone submitted with ill grace, a resentful pout marring her features. Yes, someone would certainly have to keep an eye on her on Earth. “Harry, you were saying?”

He looked slightly startled, almost as though he'd thought he'd been forgotten in the struggle of wills between the captain and her protege. “Yes, Captain. As I said, there were a couple of potential matches that fell just outside the error margin. Both feature a similar sensor profile, though of a significantly smaller magnitude. This is Gothlen's Rift, explored by the Andorian science ship, Taltha Cumir in 2256.” On the visual, the large spikes of colour faded as a diminutive echo of its intensity replaced it. “One of the things that put it out of the running are these spikes here.” He pointed to a series of regularly spaced yellow lines. “These are lepton readings. Initially, Gothlen's Rift was thought to potentially be a wormhole in the early stages of development, but no secondary tunnelling particles have been detected.

“The second potential match is Anomaly Sigma 3-4-7. This anomaly was detected by an unmanned sensor beacon launched by the USS Eckerle near the Tzenkethi Coalition about seventy years ago.” Another “echo” appeared on top of the first, this one even smaller. “As you can see, it lacked the lepton emissions but more than made up for them with thermionic radiation, with emissions much higher than normally associated with a small scale anomaly. 347 was apparently sealed by the the Tzenkethi in 2354.”

"How?"

Janeway looked around the table to see who had spoken. To her surprise, it was Chakotay. While she knew he was perfectly able to understand what they were discussing, it didn't come as easily to him as it did to B'Elanna, Harry, and herself. When he noticed her gaze, he shrugged, "I was just wondering how the Tzenkethi closed it."

Harry frowned for a moment, tapping at his PADD. "Oh, ah, allegedly by used a polaric ionization cannon. The procedure was not able to be witnessed by any Starfleet or allied ships, as the Tzenkethi claimed that the sealing of such 'celestial fountains' was considered a sacred act."

"Closing up a rift that spilling tons of radiation is a sacred act? Really?" Tom's comment probably would have earned him an elbow from his wife in normal circumstances, but the fact that he was holding their infant daughter mitigated her reaction and he was instead treated to a semi-incredulous glare. "Just seems like something kinda odd to consider sacred, since they can't have been doing it until they started exploring space."

"The Tzenkethi have been capable of interstellar flight for almost as long as the Vulcans, Mister Paris. While in most cases the tenets of world religions are generally established long before space flight is attained, it has been noted that upon occasion, races like the Tzenkethi have discovered phenomena in space that correlate to descriptions in religious teachings. On occasion, these phenomena are then included in the culture's ongoing religious development. In the case of anomaly Sigma 347, the Tzenkethi consider subspace to be the realm of the restless. They believe that subspace rifts such as 347 allow restless spirits into our realm where they can cause havoc. Therefore, the closing of such rifts is considered to be a service to the whole of the Tzenkethi people and the crew of any ship that succeeds in closing such a rift is accorded some of the highest accolades in Tzenkethi culture."

Tom looked bored by the time Tuvok concluded the lecture, but Janeway was intrigued and beside her, Chakotay looked quite attentive as well. Due to the numerous Tzenkethi/Federation wars, there was not a lot of literature on Tzenkethi culture and she wondered how Tuvok had learned so much about them. All that she knew was that the Tzenkethi were generally humanoid, though possessed of a preternatural grace, with faintly bio-luminescent skins that covered the spectrum of visible colours. She had never met one, but allegedly they were oddly attractive to Humans.

All in all, none of the data collected pointed conclusively to any known phenomenon, whether from the Alpha and Beta quadrants, or the Delta quadrant. Some of the readings would resemble those they'd collected on a creature, while other sensor results seemed to indicate a completely different anomaly. Seven was uncharacteristically sullen as Harry made the rest of his report and Janeway wondered if they'd disagreed on something more than the margin of error in considering matches. After the meeting, she would hold Seven back just to be sure there was no stone left unturned.

After Harry sat down, B'Elanna shifted in her seat. Beside her, Paris lounged in his chair, infant snuggled against his shoulder and his eyes at half-mast. It was clear that Miral was already establishing just who was the boss in her family.

“Captain,” B'Elanna leaned forward. Her eyes were alight with interest but dark shadows were evident below. “While I agree that this 'whatever' is not something we've encountered before, I am inclined to believe that what we're dealing with is a living, possibly even sentient creature.”

“There is nothing in the readings to indicate either intelligence or life.” Seven interjected. A faint frown marred her normally tranquil features.

Janeway ignored her for the moment, willing to let B'Elanna explain how she had come to that conclusion. Despite her Borg-enhanced knowledge, Seven still occasional struggled to move past the limited mindset of the collective. She waived a dismissive hand toward Seven and was gratified when the former drone subsided without a fuss. “B'Elanna, please continue.”

“Thank you, Captain.” She brandished a PADD and the wall panel displayed a line graph labelled in Klingon. “Harry and Seven are correct that it doesn't correlate to any known phenomenon, but these readings, from the Klingon ships that were present when the Roanoke and the Kobayashi Maru were destroyed, here --” A section of the graph highlighted and then enlarged to show further detail, “indicated complex isolinear molecules.

“As we know, isolinear molecules are not particularly uncommon, but they are rarely seen in spatial anomalies. They require a relatively ordered environment in order to manifest. Now, there's no indication of nucleogenic peptide bonds here, but the Klingon sensors for those ships were not calibrated to analyse detailed biological structures – they didn't need to be to pick up weapons signatures.”

“The Halifax was a science vessel and would have been outfitted with upgraded sensors, but its scans of the event that swallowed the 'wI Batlh do not indicate either isolinear molecular constructs or nucleogenic peptide bonds.” Seven interjected.

“No, they don't, but they only turned their sensors in that direction when the 'wI Batlh's cloak failed. The Klingons from a year earlier were watching from the beginning and those readings were detected within the first thirty seconds of the event. From what I can tell, the visual manifestation of the phenomenon only occurs in the last moments as the target is bombarded with massive amounts of radiation and energized particles that lead to its destruction. The Klingon's cloak failed shortly after the bombardment commenced.”

“Do we have a conclusive time table for how long it take the anomaly to destroy a ship?”

B'Elanna looked slightly discomfitted. “Not entirely, simply because we're not entirely sure what the catalyst is. However, from the initial surge of tetryons to the destruction of the Roanoke and Kobayashi Maru, it was approximately three minutes. The radiation levels are not in the visual spectrum until the last thirty seconds or so.” B'Elanna paused. “Additionally, I applied a behavioural analysis algorithm to the seven events.”

“A behavioural algorithm?” Tuvok queried, his eyebrow arching. “Intriguing.”

“After I noticed the isolinear molecules, it got me thinking that if it is a lifeform, then perhaps the computer might be able to extrapolate behavioural patterns.” B'Elanna shrugged. “Due to the limited data, it has a high margin of error, but it definitely appears that the phenomenon is not triggered simply by a ship being in it's general area. I've looked at ship routes through this area for the past two hundred years and estimated approximately thirty ships per year travel within 50,000 kilometres of these coordinates without any problems at all.”

“That could simply imply that the phenomenon is not disturbed by the subspace field generated by ships travelling via conventional warp technology.”

Janeway frowned at Seven's interruption; she seemed to be more argumentative than usual, today. “B'Elanna, you mentioned tetryons earlier. That could indicate that the anomaly typically exists in subspace, rather than normal space.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“And yet, apparently, it's not disturbed by warp fields.”

“No. I don't think it's very deep in subspace, actually. The speed with which it manifests in normal space and then vanishes seems to indicate that it might be right on or near the barrier between normal space and subspace.”

After all the presentations were complete, Janeway called for a discussion of the various theories that had been presented. While her senior staff talked, Janeway took the time to glance over the brief essays that Chakotay had forwarded to her.

After seven years of working with the same people on an almost daily basis, Janeway was fairly confident that she was aware of most of the strengths and weaknesses of her crew. And unfortunately, science was one of the weaknesses. Samantha Wildman was one of the senior most science officers on the ship, the result of Voyager's initial mission lacking a strong science component and the turbulent trip to the Delta quadrant. While they had all had more than ample opportunity to expand their skills over the past seven years, it wasn't quite the same as working under an experienced and dedicated science officer as they would have been in the Alpha quadrant.

For all of the nebulae, stellar clusters, neutron stars, and particle fountains that they had encountered on their voyage, the vast majority of the science officers had been left to operate with little or no supervision to help them enhance and focus their attention on details and minor differentiations between one phenomenon and the next. The Delaney sisters and Tal Celes in astrocartography had probably the most oversight due to Seven's arrival and ongoing involvement in the astrometrics lab, but Seven's uncompromising attitude had probably stymied their development as much as her oversight could have helped it. As a result, the majority of the reports on the phenomenon were less than useful and she skimmed through them quickly enough.

However, it appeared that Celes and the twins had benefited from Seven's presence after allas their combined report included some of the same points that B'Elanna had brought up when laying out her argument that they were dealing with a living creature. They hypothesized that the anomaly might be something akin to a subspace burrow where an alien species lay in wait for prey to trip over their threshold. An appended file described the tactics of an Earth creature known as a 'trap-door spider' that hunted from a hidden burrow, emerging suddenly when prey ventured near the entrance, injecting a paralyzing enzyme and then dragging the immobilized meal into its den for later consumption. It was an intriguing idea and likened the ejection of so much radiation with the venom of the spider.

She flagged the report and relayed it to B'Elanna. It was looking like they would have to make some of their own scans in the area in any case to develop a definitive answer. It was not an idea that sat comfortably with her. They would have to find a way to prod the potentially deadly anomaly without giving it an opportunity to strike at Voyager. If they were able to safely trigger the anomaly and make a thorough analysis of it, then they would have to make a determination on what to do about it. Perhaps a warning beacon like the one they had left around Tarakis to advise passing of the memorial they had found on that planet.

Giving a soft chuckle, she shook her head. Here she was thinking about ways to ensure other ships wouldn't fall victim to it when they still had to devise a way to determine exactly what it was they would be warning ships away from.

"Captain?" Her movement had caught Chakotay's attention and he spoke in an undertone that she doubted even Seven or Tuvok could have overheard.

She gave him a brief, reassuring smile and brandished the PADD to indicate what had captured her attention. A silence fell over the table and she looked up. Both B'Elanna and Seven were looking at her expectantly and she realized that Seven must have objected to another component of the engineer's analysis and they were waiting on her to weigh in. She'd have to verify what she'd missed with Chakotay later but for the moment, she was inclined to give credence to Torres.

"I'm sorry, Seven, but I think Lieutenant Torres has made some very good points. In any case, we need more information before we can hope to arrive at a definitive answer. We'll proceed to the coordinates but I'd like you all to submit suggestions on how we might be able to make some of our own scans without getting in the way." Glancing around, she could already see the wheels at work behind most of their eyes. "If no one has anything further to add for the moment, we'll adjourn."

As it had earlier, the room filled with murmurs of acknowledgement as people stood and left until it was just herself and Chakotay. "Well, commander? Do you have any thoughts?"

"Only that I'd like to stay away from that thing as possible. I think we should take position in the asteroid belt where the Halifax was conducting her study and perhaps try launching a probe."

"Yes, I agree. This thing puts out a lot of very dangerous radiation and I don't want to risk Voyager getting too close, either.” She turned and looked out the view ports at the deceptively empty space. At impulse speeds, the streaks of light were replaced by a slowly shifting field of stars. “If we didn't have those additional files, what do you think we would have done?”

She could see his frown in the reflection of the transparent aluminium as he stepped up beside her. “We would have warped out here and started scanning for traces of the Shambhala.”

It was exactly the answer that she'd expected and it chilled her. “We don't know what triggers this thing, except that the ships we can confirm as having been lost here had all come out of warp and were probably scanning surrounding space. We could very well have stumbled right into it with no time to react at all.”

“You think that was why we were sent out here?” His hand was warm on her shoulder and she couldn't help but lean slightly in to the reassuring touch.

“I don't know but I think it's something we should consider.” The idea that someone at Starfleet didn't want Voyager home, enough to deliberately send them into a potentially deadly situation with deliberately incomplete information, was definitely not a comfortable thought. “I don't want to believe that it's something Hayes would do deliberately, but I don't really know.”

“I think you mentioned that you didn't think Paris was the one that sent you the second message. Could it have been Hayes?”

“I really don't know. I'm not familiar with his style but it doesn't feel quite right. He's been very blunt in our communiques via Pathfinder.” She shook her head in frustration. “That's one of the things that so 'off' about this whole situation. While he wasn't particularly friendly, he wasn't hostile either. Just very matter-of-fact and by the book. This,” and she gave a sweeping gesture to encompass their surroundings, “isn't by the book.”

“Maybe there's someone pulling strings.”

She considered the possibility, turning it over in her mind. “That could be. Hayes isn't at the top of the food chain; our mission could have come down from someone else.” She sighed, tired of trying to decipher the conflicting information they were privy to.

“Perhaps we should table this for now. We have enough to focus on without trying to figure out if there's some sort of conspiracy at Starfleet Command.”

“Don't even mention that.” Janeway shuddered. “I was only a lieutenant commander at the time, but I remember when Picard's Enterprise discovered that a number of the top brass were being controlled by an alien presence.”

His hand shifted, just a fleet lessening of pressure before it resettled, a ghost of a pat. “It's a possibility.”

She turned with a rueful smile and laid her own hand on his chest. “Sadly, I think if there is a conspiracy this time, it's entirely Human.” For a moment, she was content to remain in this comforting tableau of mutual support but then she reluctantly withdrew her hand and stepped back. “I need to go give a heading. Thank you for letting me bounce some ideas of you.”

“Anytime, Kathryn, you know that.” There was a warmth in his smile, in his eyes that she couldn't remember having seen for a long while and a corresponding sensation settled in her breast.

"Thank you." She hesitated as he'd made no move away from the window, though his hand had fallen back to his side when she'd stepped away. "Shall we?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes." He flashed a dimpled smile and offered he the crook of his elbow playfully. It reminded her of their interactions in the early days of their journey, before she'd become so jaded and withdrawn. There really wasn't sufficient clearance around the sides of the table, but she was unwilling to reject the gesture so instead she caught his elbow with her fingers and towed him to the door. Perhaps, just maybe, when they were finally back at Earth, there was a real chance that they could rekindle the close friendship that they'd allowed to slip away.

They emerged on to the bridge, her grip falling from his arm as the door hissed shut behind them. "Helm, ahead one eighth impulse, heading four twenty-six mark eight." She felt the hum in the deck plating shift faintly as the engines shifted them to movement from full stop. She dropped into her command seat as Chakotay slid into his. She pulled up the center console and fed in the estimated coordinates of the anomaly. "I want you to keep a good hundred thousand kilometers between us and the location I've just sent you. When we reach the asteroid field, find a rock for us to hide behind."

Chapter Text

Chapter Thirteen

Four hours later, Voyager was in the midst of the asteroid field, keeping pace with a particularly large specimen. It was heavily pocked with impact craters, some appearing relatively recent. From the movement of the individual fragments, astrocartogrphy had surmised that the field was probably only about a thousand years old. It was stable enough, but Janeway had requested Baytart for the helm, confident that he had the skill to keep them out of the way of any shards that tumbled in their direction.

After much deliberation, Seven had conceded that launching a series of modified probes toward the location of the anomaly would hopefully allow them to determine specific triggers and hopefully allow them to glean more conclusive information about exactly what they were dealing with. B'Elanna had suggested that they might be able to prolong the time that the anomaly was open for analysis by probing it with low level scans rather than the full capacity that a ship would normally use. They had moved out from their hiding place long enough to launch the first of the probes. They waited only long enough to ensure that it cleared the asteroid field before ducking back behind their protective shield.

Seven hovered over Harry's shoulder at ops as he read off telemetry from the sensors. Janeway thought about ordering her to astrometrics, but if they needed to make adjustments to the sensors, she would have access to the auxiliary bridge console for the purpose. And at least if she was on the bridge, Janeway could stop her if she tried to do her own thing, as she had on previous occasions. For the most part, that rebellious streak had been tempered by her emerging humanity and growing sense of compassion, but her argumentativeness in the briefing had put Janeway on alert.

“The probe is currently running standard scans at minimal intensity, Captain. No sign of the anomaly.”

“Increase scanning intensity to ten percent of normal, Ensign.” The view screen showed nothing more than the asteroid field and she was trying not to focus on the fact that it was Baytart's dark head at the helm instead of Tom's fairer crown, so she instead kept her eyes on the command console. She was vaguely aware of Chakotay leaning over from his seat to share the view.

“No chang – wait!” There was sharp chirp from Harry's station. “We just saw a brief uptick in verteron particles and gamma radiation, but they're gone again. Do you want me to boost the scanning intensity?"

Janeway hesitated a moment. "No, let's keep the probe at this level a little longer." If they rushed it into showing itself, they might miss something important. Several seconds ticked by. "Any change?"

"No, Captain."

"Very well, increase intensity to twenty percent."

"This is inefficient. We should have multiple probe scanning at different intervals and intensities."

Janeway swiveled to look at Seven, sharing a brief eye roll with her second in command as she did. From the corner of her eye, she could see his answering smile. "I'm sure you've encountered the phrase that 'patience is a virtue', Seven? I don't want to miss anything by rushing."

Seven looked annoyed for a moment, but then nodded and returned her attention to Harry's read-outs. "Scanning intensity has been increased, Captain. No change."

Not really doubting him, Janeway turned back to her own console to glance at the readings. There wasn't so much as a blip in the verterons or gamma radiation levels. "Boost it to thirty." She watched as the energy output from the probe swelled marginally.

"Still no change."

Janeway frowned. She'd thought that the increase in verterons had indicated that the probe had caught the anomaly's attention but perhaps it had just been a normal variation. "Alright. Take it up to forty, then."

"No -- the verterons just jumped again, and another increase in gamma radiation." The feed to the command console changed as Harry ran through a number of different wave graphs. "There was a slight, localized increase in infrared radiation, as well, but I can't find it now."

"That's alright, Mr. Kim. Just keep your eyes peeled and raise the intensity to fifty percent."

"Yes, ma'am, raising the intensity to fifty."

This time there was a definite reaction as the verteron levels again swelled, along with duderons and dekyons. A crescent of infrared radiation glowed briefly and there was a short spike in the alpha, beta, and gamma bands, but the probe remained intact and after a minute, the emissions declined.

"That was exciting. Do you think it's scanning the probe?" Chakotay shifted, leaning slightly further over the arm of his chair but spoke at a volume the entire bridge could hear.

"Other than the particles and radiation, I'm not reading any energy signatures that could indicated active scanners or weapons." The readouts from Harry's station flicked past again as he double-checked his readings.

"Your analysis is limited. I believe the probe has been scanned three times since we began this exercise." Seven's statement only just missed interrupting Harry's answer.

"I'm with Seven on this, Harry. I think the increased verterons could well be the anomaly's way of checking out what is in the vicinity. Apparently the output of the probe hasn't been enticing enough for it to come out of hiding, though. Increase scanning intensity to sixty percent."

“Intensity increased . . . reading another spike in verterons, duderons, and dekyons, along with increases in infrared, alpha, beta, and gamma radiation. Whoa!”

At Harry's exclamation,Janeway automatically looked up at the forward screen before remembering the real excitement would be on the console.

“Levels of tachyons and tetryons jumped by about thirty percent. I'm also reading some variations in lepton levels, but the probe is still active.”

Janeway frowned. With nearly each increase, the anomaly had reacted more strongly, but the readings were still small scale compared to the levels recorded by both the Roanoke and the Halifax. Additionally, they hadn't picked up the dangerous thalaron radiation the other ships had reported. Of course, the thalaron radiation had only showed up once it was too late.

"Okay, once more. Take the probe up to seventy percent, Harry."

He didn't even have time to acknowledge the adjustment this time as the gamma radiation and verterons jumped again, shortly followed by an increase in alpha and beta radiation levels before the readings dropped back to near normal. "The gamma radiation is continuing to build, captain. Do you want me to give it another boost?"

Janeway held up her hand, tacitly asking him to wait as she reviewed the information. If she was correct, they would be seeing another spike in the gamma radiation right about . . . "Now," she whispered and almost as though the muttered word had summoned it, the gamma levels surged.

"Gamma radiation just jumped up by sixty-three percent. Alpha and beta bands are still at nominal levels." A tense silence pervaded the bridge as they waited to see if anything else came of it. "Alpha, beta, and gamma radiation just jumped again. Gamma levels are up to two hundred fifty percent of normal. Dekyons, duderons, tachyons, and tetryons are picking up, and the infrared emissions are getting stronger."

"Keep it where we are, Harry." Even without looking, she knew he had his hand poised over the control that would ratchet the probe up to eighty percent, she but she didn't think it would be necessary. Just another second or two . . .

"Alpha, beta, and gamma radiation just jumped to over six hundred percent of normal. Infrared is increasing. I'm also getting corresponding levels in the dekyons, duderons, tachyons, and tetryons."

"Anything that could endanger the ship at this range?"

The question was directed toward Tuvok who had remained impassively curious about the entire operation up to this point. "No, captain. However, there are growing levels of kinoplasmic and thoron radiation that could potentially blind our sensors if they get much higher. I would recommend that we move further into the asteroid field."

"Do it." This time the view on the forward screen shifted as the ship banked and slipped between two asteroids on an apparent collision course. A particularly mammoth asteroid loomed on the view screen before suddenly seeming to change direction and drift upward as Baytart guided Voyager beneath the tumbling mass. Another few seemingly near misses and open space appeared ahead. "All stop."

"Aye, captain. All stop," Baytart reported. "We've cleared the asteroid field and we're currently two hundred fifty thousand kilometres from the anomaly." He twisted in his seat, much as Tom was wont to do during slow shifts, but his expression was nervous instead of playful. "There's a lot more activity on this side of the field, but the chunks are smaller. I can probably find something for us to duck behind again, but it'll be a lot harder to keep out of harm's way."

"Understood, Ensign. For now, do your best."

Baytart nodded and turned back to the conn, as Janeway wished Tom was available. He'd come, with B'Elanna's blessing she suspected, if she called but the new parents hadn't gotten much rest over the last thirty six hours. Baytart was good, but didn't quite possess Paris' instincts. On the other hand, a clear-headed pilot was infinitely preferable to one half dead from sleep exhaustion.

She glanced down at the readings on the console, then up to Chakotay. They could still control the probe from this distance but the asteroids could potentially interfere with some of the more sensitive readings. She wondered how it was that the Halifax hadn't been blinded by the thoron radiation or had its systems affected by the kinoplasmic radiation. She stood and addressed the pair at Ops. "Seven? Harry? Any ideas on how to compensate?"

"I think if we configure the shields to emit a beta-tachyon pulse and used antiproton beams, the additional shield strength would be sufficient to protect our computer from the kinoplasmic radiation. Unfortunately, the antiprotons would polarize the area around the ship and could further occlude the sensors." Harry offered up.

Janeway nodded. If she was remembering correctly, it was the same method the female Q had used to allow Voyager to enter the Continuum when Q had kidnapped her with the intent of reproducing. She suppressed a shudder at the memory. They still needed a way to cut through the interference on the senors, though."Seven?"

"I believe that if we deploy the ablative shielding, we can charge the hull with antithorons to counteract the thoron radiation."

“All right, how long will the modifications take?”

“We'll have to reconfigure the shield generators and that will take a couple of hours at least.” Harry glance down at his panel. “Engineering took some of the worst damage when we went through the transwarp conduits. They're short-staffed, so I'd estimate at least four hours, probably closer to five.” The ensign shrugged and she could see the frustration waring with the purpose in his eyes.

“What about the ablative armour?”

“I can charge the hull in only a few minutes.”

“Captain,” Tuvok spoke up. “I must inform you that the ablative armour is currently offline. It was severely damaged during our encounter with the Borg sphere. It will require significant repairs before we can use it in any form.”

She dipped her head in a tacit acknowledgement of the Vulcan's report. “Seven, Harry, head down to engineering and get to work on the modifications. Don't pull anyone if you don't have to.” Janeway paused to rub the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stave off the headache she felt building. She caught Chakotay's concerned look and offered him a tired smile. With any luck, she'd be able to catch a quick lunch while the adjustments were made. “Tuvok, coordinate the repairs on the armour from here.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Harry and Seven also nodded their compliance. Just as they reached the turbolift, the doors sprang open to reveal Chell. He looked slightly startled for a moment, but then smiled gamely and manoeuvred his blue bulk between the departing bridge officers and the tactical station. He didn't quite press against Tuvok, but it was a near thing and Janeway winced in sympathy, knowing how the accidental invasion of his personal space would unsettle her tactical officer.

“Captain Janeway! Oh, and Commander! Uh, just the people I wanted to see.”

As the exuberant Bolian approached, the command team shared a look. A former member of Chaktoay's Maquis cell, Chell had taken over from Neelix as chef. While his cooking was definitely raising spirits, his efforts as morale officer had been less than stellar thus far. “Mister Chell, why don't we step into my ready room. Commander?” At Chakotay's nod, she glanced at Tuvok as she lead the way into her office. “You have the bridge, Tuvok.”

With Chell at her heels and Chakotay only a step or two behind, she swiftly headed for her desk. She sent a wistful glance toward the replicator. There hadn't been many volunteers to take over in Neelix's absence and if Chell hadn't stepped up, it could have become critical while they were still in the Delta quadrant. She found his exuberant personality a little trying at times, but was generally able to remind herself that they could have been in much worse shape without him.

"All right, Mister Chell, what brings you to the bridge?"

When the Bolian blushed a brighter blue than normal and seemed almost confused that he was the current focus, she fought the urge to sigh and instead offered him an encouraging smile. Chakotay had slipped into one of the seats, but Chell had remained standing.

"Well, ah, that is . . . I know I'm not assigned to the bridge, and really I'm quite happy in the mess hall, you know, though if I was assigned up here, I'm sure I'd do a most excellent job . . ."

"Chell?" Chakotay's quiet question seemed to short circuit the Bolian's rambling speech.

"Oh. Oh! I know that you said we still have a mission to do, Captain, and I'm very sure that it's of the utmost importance, but it's just that, as we're back in the Alpha quadrant, well the Beta quadrant at the moment, but you know what I mean, anyhow as we're back, it just seems like this would be just the time that Neelix would have been arranging a party. I mean, I suppose there will be parties and probably a lot of them but I do think that Neelix would have seen the importance in the crew celebrating our achievement together, you know, instead of waiting until we're on Earth and there are debriefings and admirals and . . ."

She was fairly confident that Chell was asking permission to arrange a welcome-home party for the crew but somewhere in the Bolian's ramblings, she'd somehow lost the thread. “Am I understanding that you'd like to organize a party to celebrate our return?”

He nodded his blue head energetically. “It wouldn't have to be a large party, of course; I wouldn't want the festivities to interfere with anyone's duties -- after all I'm sure everyone wants Voyager to look her best when we arrive back at Earth, though really I do rather think that getting home is one of the best reasons to celebrate that we've had, I mean we managed it in just seven years and when we started out it was more than seventy years, so it really is quite the achievement . . .”

A small corner of her mind wondered just how long Chell would have rambled on if she hadn't held up her hand to cut off the flow of words, but for the moment, it was an enquiry which she was not interested in pursuing. “Mister Chell, I want you to know that I appreciate your enthusiasm for this venture and I'm sure you'll plan festivities that would make Neelix proud. But for the moment, I''m going to ask you to hold off on the party. While I'm hopeful that we won't be out here very much longer, I think everyone will be able to more thoroughly enjoy the party if we see this mission through beforehand.”

Chell looked bluer than usual as he slumped back out to the bridge and presumably back to his post in the mess hall and Janeway sighed as the doors shut behind him. “I hated doing that.”

“I know you did, but it was the right decision.” Chakotay looked across the desk. “And I think Chell knows it, too.”

She didn't need him to tell her that – she knew she'd made the right decision – but she gave him a small smile any how. The headache that had been threatening before was now throbbing in her temple and she pinched her eyes shut for a moment. A few seconds and some slow, deep breaths later, she stood and turned to the replicator. “I'm having coffee, would you care for something?”

He didn't say anything and she turned to find him leaning one hip on the edge of her desk, looking expectant. “Alright, a coffee and a sandwich, how's that?”

“Better, though I suspect a nap would do more good.”

“A nap? With that thing sitting out there, ready to devour another starship or two?”

“None of us has gotten much sleep the last few days. It's not a sign of weakness to need rest, Kathryn.” His expression was kind and she wished she could accommodate him but there was no way she'd be able to sleep right now.

“I know that, Commander, but you also know that I won't be able to relax until we've figured out a way to deal with whatever it is out there.” She offered him a sympathetic smile in response to his aggrieved sigh and nod. “Tell you what, we can go get dinner in the mess hall. It's not a nap, but it's the best I can do for the moment.”

A beaming smile, complete with dimples, was her reward and she couldn't help but smile back.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fourteen

Alpha quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54982.4

Earth

“Come in,” Nechayev barked without looking up from the report she was reading. Expecting it to be her aide, she listened with half an ear for the soft clatter of a PADD being added to her already towering stack but seconds stretched without the anticipated sound and she finally looked up. “Teddy, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

A full pip below her in rank though a few years senior, Theodorich Patterson was attached to Utopia Planetia shipyards and, as a result, a relatively infrequent visitor to Starfleet Command. He sank into one of the upright wing chairs she had selected to face her desk. They looked faintly regal but were not particularly comfortable, with nearly vertical backs and over-sprung seat cushions. She'd chosen them precisely because they weren't comfortable. As a female of only moderate stature, she was not adverse to use any and all weapons in her arsenal to command the respect due to her rank. Even in the late 24^th century there were still those who doubted a woman was capable of the rigours demanded of the Admiralty.

Patterson winced slightly, and shifted as if trying to find a more comfortable position. “You know, Alynna, you could do a favor to your friends and get a chair that isn't a torture device. This may be fine for those young punks from the Academy but my bones aren't made for this kind of abuse.”

“Teddy, I know you didn't come all the way from Mars just to complain about my taste in furnishings, so why don't you quit whining and get to the point? The sooner you say it, the sooner you can leave that chair behind.”

“And you don't need to pull that curmudgeonly act with me, young woman. I'm sure it's quite useful for putting the fear of the Tkon Empire into recalcitrant captains, but none of us managed to get where we are without having some skill at dealing with people so I know you have it in you to be kind to a frail gentleman such as myself.”

Nechayev pursed her lips in an effort to suppress her amusement, but the corners of her mouth curled slightly nevertheless. “You're hardly frail, Teddy. Now out with it. What brings you to Earth?” She had a better than fair idea but things being the way they were, she didn't want to make any concessions, even for old friends like Patterson.

“Voyager, as you well know.” He frowned and shifted again. “They may have been ordered to comm silence but an awful lot of ships answered that call and they weren't. I want to know why that ship isn't parked out there on the Presidio for all the Federation to see.”

“That's something you'd have to ask Hayes about, but good luck getting an answer – he's been incommunicado for the past two days.” She was more than a little troubled by their colleague's silence but the Dominion War had a number of former captains being promoted through the flag ranks as thanks for their service. Along with Hayes, she was now one of eight Fleet Admirals and they were generally given the freedom to act as they saw fit unless the President of the Federation decided to intervene, and with Zife gone and Ra'ch B'ullhy only recently inducted as President Pro Tempore, that office was hardly in a position to intervene anywhere. As such, they didn't have to confer with the others except out of courtesy. Apparently, Jeremiah Hayes had not felt particularly courteous when he's summarily sent Voyager off to the Klingon border.

“You mean, you didn't send them scurrying off to the Beta quadrant?”

“Most certainly not. Edward was a friend and his daughter deserves every accolade we can dredge up for bringing her crew home.”

"What the deuce was Hayes thinking?" Patterson was frowning and his left thumb and forefinger plucked at his uniform trousers in agitation. “We've already got families en route. I just hope they aren't coming for a funeral.”

Nechayev shook her head. More than one of her newer peers were known to have taken a hardline on the Maquis and she wouldn't have put it past them to somehow convince Hayes that Voyager was the right ship to go poking around in sector 153. She had no doubts that those same admirals had no intention of Voyager ever returning to Earth. She hadn't been able to countermand Hayes' order, but she hoped that the information she'd sent them would give them a fighting chance at making it back alive.

Chapter Text

Chapter Fifteen

Beta quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54982.1

USS Voyager

Since Chell had taken over as cook, Chakotay had only eaten in the mess hall a handful of times. It was partly due to his now-concluded relationship with Seven, but also force of habit. He'd long made a practice of being seen in the mess hall but had always done his best to ensure he wouldn't have to eat much while he was there. On those occasions when he'd cooked for Kathryn and his weekly dinners, he'd often held back some of the produce he requisitioned from airponics. When there was enough, he'd also hoard leftovers for later meals. He knew that as a senior officer, it was his responsibility to set a good example but even that couldn't induce him to voluntarily consume leola root.

Now, he looked doubtfully at a pinkish concoction that Chell had called “veggie vindalinear chips”. Kathryn had opted for a slightly-more-normal-looking “yook gae Chell” and he hoped the purplish tint in the broth wasn't the result of some actual Bolian in the mix. He watched as she took a hesitant sip of the soup/stew. For a long moment, there was no reaction but finally a smile spread over her face and she nodded. “It's good.”

He didn't bother pointing out that her meal being palatable had no bearing on the tastiness of his own. Instead, he brought a small fork-full of the thick pink glob to his lips. His first reaction on tasting it was that it wasn't completely objectionable, but his second was to reach for his water and slug down about half the glass. The flavor was fine, but his mouth was on fire! He finished off his water before he started coughing. Kathryn looked alarmed and Chell was hastening over.

“Oh dear. I did mention that the Veggie Vindalinear Chips was quite spicy; it's based on an Earth dish called vindaloo that is quite popular on Bolus, or at least it was when I joined the Maquis and Golwat just loves it, as does Crewman Tassoni, but then he eats everything. . . “ As Chell continued to babble ineffectually, Kathryn had rounded the table and was now thumping his back. If he'd been choking, it probably wouldn't have been strong enough to help but as it was, it just kept him coughing.

Finally, he reached back and stilled her hand, managing to gasp, “Too spicy!” on his next breath.

Kathryn shook her hand free, but rather than return to her pounding as he'd expected, she rested it on his shoulder as she commanded Chell to fetch some milk from the replicator. The Bolian hurried off and returned with a towering glass. Chakotay sipped from it hesitantly. His people had never had domesticated cows so dairy had never been a large part of his diet. When he'd gone to the Academy, he'd been surprised that so many of his peers drank the thick stuff. However, as the smooth liquid slid down his throat, he did have to admit that it seemed to be soothing the burn from the food. After several sips, the heat had retreated to a manageable level and he was able to breathe without coughing.

He pushed the rest of the milk to the middle of the table. Although he took cream in his coffee at times, he knew that people that didn't consume dairy on a regular basis could suffer upsets. He really didn't feel like potentially revisiting the spicy food in that manner., or in any manner at all, really. “Sorry, Chell.” His former crew member looked positively miserable.

“Oh, oh . . . I told Neelix I couldn't do this job but he so wanted to be sure someone would take over the kitchen. And I did ask Golwat to taste-test almost everything . . .”

Chakotay lent only half-an-ear to Chell's worrying. Apparently satisfied that he wasn't about to keel over, Kathryn had returned to her seat though she had yet to resume eating. “It's fine, really, Chell, just need less pepper or whatever that spice is.” He offered his tray to Chell who took it, nodding vigorously and muttering apologies all the way back to the kitchen. Once the Bolian was out of earshot, he offered Kathryn a reassuring smile.

She smiled faintly in return. “I'd offer you some of my soup but it has some sort of meat in it.”

“It's fine. Rations aren't an issue anymore, so I'll just get something back in my quarters.”

Kathryn nodded. "I think I'll join you. The soup is good, but I've suddenly lost my appetite for it. Think you can spring for two meals?”

“I think that can be arranged. As long as you're in charge of dessert.” Despite her failing in the kitchen, Chakotay had discovered that the one thing she was consistently good at replicating was sweets. Pies, cakes, cookies, and custards always seem to materialize successfully no matter how badly maimed the previous order might have been.

“Let's go then.” She grinned at him and linked her arm with his when he offered his elbow. They were older now, but he felt the same frisson of joy when Kathryn took his arm as he had years ago.

Just as they reached the doors, Kathryn's commbadge chirped. “Ensign Kim to Captain Janeway.” Through their linked arms, he felt her sigh before she answered.

“Yes, Harry, what can I do for you?”

“Seven and I have run into some problems with trying to compensate for the thoron and kinoplasmic radiation. I was hoping you could look over what we're seeing.”

“Of course. I'll meet you in engineering.”

Chakotay had known as soon as her badge sounded that their leisure was at an end. He gave her regretful smile as he disengaged his arm.

“I'm sorry, Chakotay,” she started, but he cut her off. Duty always came first while they were on the ship and though he'd occasionally resented that, he knew that Kathryn wouldn't be the woman he admired without her dedication to their crew.

He gave her a reassuring smile, “I'll see you later, Captain. Don't forget to eat.” He gave her a nod and headed off for his quarters. Ayala had been having some issues that would be coming to a head now that they were home. After he ate, he might see if his old friend wanted to talk.

@>--\---,-----

The next morning found Janeway back on the bridge, bright and early. After she'd parted ways with Chakotay, she'd spent the next eight hours in engineering, more than half of which had been occupied with helping Harry and Seven. In normal circumstances she would have trusted that pair to manage without her assistance, but the shield modifications that Harry had proposed made Seven's idea for dispersing the thoron radiation unworkable. Seven had been less than cooperative about either altering her idea to find something that would work with the shield configuration or suggesting a different way to block the kinoplasmic radiation that would work with her thoron dispersion tactic.

She'd only just managed to get them working together when Vorik had approached her about an idea that he and Susan Nicoletti had been working on for how to close or seal the anomaly. She'd spent another hour working with the two engineers on a modified torpedo design that could deliver a polaric burst. Around 0300, they'd finally called it a day. The warhead was workable, but they'd been unable to contrive a method that would prevent the torpedo from detonating prematurely due to the levels of radiation and particle bombardment that it would face.

By the time she'd returned to her quarters, stripped off her soiled uniform and collapsed into bed, she'd had just under four hours before she'd need to be up for her next shift. While the Delta quadrant had seen more than it's fair share of sleepless nights, the preparations for their assault on the Borg transwarp hub and the subsequent late nights were beginning to take their toll. She'd felt compelled to dab concealer under her eyes this morning.

Beside her, Chakotay hardly looked any more rested. She was curious as to what had kept him up late but resolved to save the subject for a later time. At present, they were making their way back through the asteroid field in order to make some further observations of the anomaly. Using some of the tried and discarded ideas for shielding the polaric torpedo, they'd kitted out another probe that would be positions closer to the anomaly's mouth, but still hopefully be able to continue to transmit information back to Voyager for the same amount of time the first probe had managed.

Pablo Baytart was once again at the helm, looking a little less apprehensive at taking the conn than he had been the day before. A skilled pilot, Baytart had nonetheless been relegated to second string for most of the Delta quadrant except when Tom was scheduled to work with the EMH or was off an away mission.

The plan was to briefly emerge on the other side of the asteroid belt, launch the probe, and then duck back behind the same large asteroid that had shielded them the first go round. They would bring Harry's modified shields online later, but whether there would be an accompanying method for compensating for the thoron radiation by that time, she wasn't sure. Seven had finally acceded to collaborating with Harry, but their best idea had still required more work when she'd shooed Harry to his bed and Seven to her regeneration chamber. Harry had reported that Seven was continuing the work this morning, but that the project still required at least another hour before it would be even remotely ready. At that point, they wouldn't have time to run any simulations on it's effectiveness and if it didn't work, they'd be almost as sensor-blind as they had been last time.

"Mr. Baytart, let's head back."

"Yes, ma'am." The dark head nodded once before the star scape on the view screen slid sideways and was replaced by the asteroid field they would be navigating through. Not retreating for dangerous levels radiation this time, they were able to take a more conservative route and none of the larger masses loomed overly near.

"The probe is ready for launch, Captain." Harry reported from his station. They still had a ways to go before they emerged again into open space but they didn't want any delays.

"Thank you, Ensign." Janeway didn't shift her focus from the main view screen as she acknowledged Harry. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Chakotay had already brought up sensor telemetry on their shared console. Judging by the virtually flat lines, the particles and radiation had dropped back to nominal levels since they'd vacated the area the day before. It was one of the reasons that the anomaly's presence in the area wasn't widely known.

The view screen image tilted a Baytart banked to slide between two moderately sized asteroids. "Easy as she goes," she muttered, but the volume was pitched too low for Baytart's ears. It did, however, earn her a curious glance from Chakotay, which she ignored for the moment. While he'd shown more confidence in taking the conn today, she suspected that Baytart was attempting to prove his ability by taking a slightly more difficult course through the asteroids that was warranted at this time. Both he and Stadi had had extremely high ratings as pilots when she'd taken them on and he would have been a shoo-in for chief helmsman had Tom Paris not been aboard. However, Tom possessed still higher ratings along with a reputation for being able to make seat-of-his-pants decisions both in piloting and in action that had led her to appoint the former inmate and ex-Maquis over him. She made a mental note to append Baytart's evaluation with a note that explained that his position as second helmsman had been in no way a comment on his abilities.

After ten minutes, the asteroids began to thin out. "Harry, do we have a regular probe ready to go as well?" During their passage, she'd begun to wonder if the anomaly could be sensitive to where stimulation was coming from as opposed to only having a particular range.

Surprised by the question, it took Harry a moment to check. "Yes, we have three of the original modified probes left." After the storm of radiation and particles during the first attempt, they had realized that more modifications to the probes would be necessary.

"I'd like you to launch both the modified probe and one of the original probes. Set distance for regular probe at 50 kilometres further from the anomaly than our original probe; keep the distance on the modified probe the same. Attempt to trigger the anomaly with the further probe first."

"Captain, if I understand what you are attempting to ascertain from this experiment, might I suggest moving one of the probes thirty degrees so that they are not in a direct line?" Tuvok spoke up from tactical for the first time. Although she hadn't really thought his silence unusual until now, she wondered if his disease had led her friend to be more taciturn than was typical for him. The possibility of dropping him at Vulcan on their way back to Earth was filed along with her observations on Baytart.

"Yes, thank you, Tuvok. Harry, take that into account with the launch, please."

"Done."

"Captain, we've cleared the asteroid belt." Baytart turned slightly from the conn to report and Janeway nodded her acknowledgement.

"Harry, launch the probes."

There was a faint shudder, almost undetectable if you weren't intimately familiar with the feel of the ship as first one and then the other probe were launched. One the viewscreen, they appeared little different from torpedoes as their propulsion systems used virtually the same materials. The probes had perhaps a bit less yellow in their trails.

"Probes away, Captain."

"Helm, take us back into the asteroid field, please. Let's see if we can't take cover behind that same rock from last time, shall we?"

"Aye, Captain." Baytart's fingers flew over the console as the viewscreen shifted again to showing the asteroid field and a particularly large specimen loomed to starboard. "We are out of direct line from the anomaly captain. Distance, one hundred forty-seven thousand kilometres from the anomaly." They'd been able to obtain a more definitive location on the anomaly with their earlier scans and while they were closer than her ideal of one hundred fifty thousand kilometres, at their best guess the two Klingon ships that had survived the destruction of the Kobayashi Maru and the Roanoke had been approximately ninty-eight thousand kilometres from the rift at the time.

"Thank you, Mister Baytart. Hold position." She turned slightly to address Harry. "Trigger the first burst, Harry. Let's start at thirty-five percent this time, just enough to get it's attention for now."

“Aye, Captain. Initiating scanning by the further probe at thirty-five percent of normal . . . now.” There was a moment of silence before Harry's consoles beeped, alerting all that the verteron particles and gamma radiation levels had jumped slightly before falling back to nominal. Janeway allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction. During their first attempt, the touch of the sensors at just ten percent had awoken it's curiosity, but then it had remained uninterested until they moved past forty percent. She intended to move in smaller increments this time, wanting a clearer picture of just how much provocation it needed to react.

“Anything from the nearer probe?”

“It's in passive mode so it won't be as accurate, but it's readings were well within standard deviations. Verteron particle readings were point zero zero three percent higher, while gamma radiation was point zero zero six percent lower.”

“All right, let's wait another few minutes and then we'll give it another nudge. Make it thirty-seven percent this time.” Janeway was glad Seven was elsewhere for the time being as she had no wish to re-enact the discussion about efficiency from yesterday. While the idea of using several probes from different vectors had merit, it also had the potential of poking a sleeping bear with a stick. And in this case, Janeway was more interested in caution.

There was a subtle but palpable tension on the bridge as they waited. Baytart fidgeted at the conn, then seemed to recollect himself before fidgeting and stilling again. Different readouts appeared and then vanished on the centre console as Harry restlessly checked and rechecked the sensors. The rest of the bridge was eerily silent as though everyone was holding their breath. It was the kind of environment into which Tom Paris was wont to insert humour that inspired more groans than it did laughter.

She broke the silence to order the next level. “Now, Harry.”

“Boosting.” Several seconds passed before he announced, “No change.”

“Give it another few minutes than take it up to thirt-eight percent.” She brought up her own view of the readings from the modified probe. For all intents and purposes, it appeared to be sitting in the midst of completely unremarkable space. “Tuvok, I want you to monitor the modified probe, passive mode only.”

"Yes, Captain." With that clear acknowledgement, she flipped back to Harry's feed, taking a moment to glance at Chakotay. While he appeared to be engrossed by the sensor readings, she suspected it was a front. "Late night, Commander?"

He didn't react for a moment, but then seemed to shake himself out of some distant reverie before glancing around. When he noticed she was watching him, he offered up a rueful smile. "Sorry, Captain."

"You look as though you didn't get much rest." Although it was phrased as a statement, she allowed her pitch to rise slightly on the last syllable; enough to indicate curiosity but not enough to demand an answer if he felt uncomfortable providing it.

"I ended up counselling Ayala. His wife has been dating again and he's concerned about how she'll react to this abrupt homecoming." His dark eyes clearly conveyed his worry for his friend.

There wasn't really anything she could say to that, though she sympathized with the lieutenant. Instead she reached out and touched Chakotay's sleeve in a tacit expression of support. He glanced at her hand, then back at her face and smiled wanly.

"Thirty-eight percent, Captain." Harry reported. "No change."

"Mister Tuvok?"

"No change registered by the modified probe, either, Captain."

"Very well. Harry, I want you to boost the transmitting probe's output to forty percent over the next five minutes." A thought at the back of her mind was that perhaps the anomaly had started to read the low level scans as sort of a white noise. It had stirred readily enough at the sudden jumps the day before but if they raised the level slowly enough, perhaps it would less likely to rouse.

In the meantime, she turned back to Chakotay. "When this is all said and done, I think we're all due a good long rest."

"You think Starfleet will give it to us?"

"I'm cautiously hopeful, but at the least we'll have the day's journey back to Earth to catch up on some of the sleep we've lost in the last week."

A smile tugged at his lips and she mentally replayed her words. She'd meant it in the collective sense and knew he understood that, even if he was amused by the oblique innuendo. Now that they were nearly home, she let it slide and even indulged in a brief imagining of catching up on sleep with him. Too bad he was more likely to be sharing his time with Seven.

“Captain...”

“Captain...”

The summons came from two directions at once as both Harry and Tuvok spoke. Swivelling first toward her tactical officer (as the senior of the two, he was to be given precedence), she saw that he had indicated for Harry to continue. To make it easier on herself, she stood.

“Captain, the probe is scanning at forty percent intensity. I'm reading slightly raised levels of verterons and gamma radiation, but nothing like the spikes we've seen previously.”

“Thank you, Harry. Tuvok?”

“Yes, Captain. The modified probe, too, is detecting the raised levels of verteron particles and gamma radiation, but they are less than ten percent of levels we have seen in previous flares. However, I am reading some odd interference with the probe's relay.”

“What kind of interference?” With a brief glance at Chakotay, she left the command center and moved to the tactical console to see what Tuvok was observing.

“I am not yet certain, Captain. It does not appear to be caused by the increase in particle densities or radiation but rather by another signal on a similar bandwidth. I am attempting to isolate the signal.”

Although virtually any control panel in the ship could theoretically be programmed to perform virtually any task for maximum redundancy in the case of catastrophic damage, the tactical console was specifically designed for its function and precious seconds could be wasted by convincing it to do something that the Ops station was already set for. “Harry?”

“I'm on it, Captain.” The ensign's hands flew over his console as gracefully as a concert pianist might ply his instrument. “Almost there . . . Got it!” He looked up in surprise and she crossed to see his readings. “Captain, I think it's some sort of communication. And it's coming from within the anomaly.”

“From within the anomaly? Are you sure?” Of course he was sure. Over the past seven years, Harry had matured from the eager, green Academy graduate he'd been when they left Deep Space Nine into a self-assured and exceedingly competent officer. Still, how could a communications signal come from within the malstrom of energy they'd been intermittently prodding for two days? It was hard to believe that any could survive in there. The thalaron radiation by itself would destroy any organic life it touched.

“Yes, ma'am.” Harry wide eyes echoed her incredulity. “Someone is sending a signal from inside the anomaly and trying to piggy-back it on the probe's signal to us. Only the bandwidth doesn't match so it causes an interference pattern.”

“Can you tell what it says?” By this time, Chakotay had joined them and she felt his solid warmth close over her right shoulder, just as she was hovering over Harry's.

“I'm trying, but there a places where the two carrier waves cancel each other out.” Harry shook his head in frustration as he tried to convince his console to read what wasn't there.

“Could we modify the bandwidth from the probe so that it's compatible with the other signal?” When Chakotay spoke, he was near enough that his breath stirred the strands by her ear and Janeway had to mentally stop herself from shivering. She doubted he was even aware of how close he was, or her reaction to his presence.

“I think so,” Harry trailed off as he worked to find a bandwidth that would compliment the mysterious signal. “Yes. It's coming through now. Audio only.” He glanced up, a silent question in his eyes.

Janeway nodded, "Let's hear it."

Harry tapped again at his console as static split the air. " . . . iss is . . . hip . . . ala. May . . ."

Chapter Text

Chapter Sixteen

Janeway frowned trying to mentally decipher the garbled communication, but there just wasn't enough to work with. "Can you clean it up any more, Ensign?"

"I'm working on it, Captain, but it wasn't just our bandwidth causing the problem. The signal is badly degraded." He shrugged and pressed to have the message play again.

"This is . . .arship . . . bhala. Mayd . . ." While still clouded with static, the message was clear enough that everyone on the bridge understood its meaning. Yet, could it be possible that the Shambhala was still intact? That there was still someone alive? It seemed impossible. "This is . . . ship . . . mbhala. Duh . . . nee . . . eed."

Janeway's eyes opened wider as the message, which she had though was about to repeat itself abruptly revealed itself to be organically generated. While the first wording could have been that of an automated distress, the second part indicated someone seeking a response. She turned to share a look with Chakotay and found his own eyes as wide and surprised as her own.

“Captain,” Tuvok's emotionless tone jarred with the awesome possibility of the Shambhala somehow having survived apparently being swallowed by the anomaly and the even more astounding idea that there might yet be someone alive on her. “I feel that I must point out that as we have encountered high levels of tachyons in association with this anomaly, the signal we are receiving may be a temporal echo of a message that was sent out just prior to the Shambhala's destruction.”

Janeway nodded. She'd been aware of the potentiality and knew Tuvok was right to remind her, but even so, if there was a chance that the Shambhala was in there, with even a portion of her crew intact, they would have to make every possible effort to retrieve them. “Harry, can we try to reply on the same carrier wave they used?”

“I'm not sure. I can replicate the bandwidth, no problem, but to send it back into the anomaly means the modified probe will be directing energy at the anomaly.”

“We aren't even sure if the displacement between the two probes is making any impact.” Janeway felt more than actively saw Chakotay's shrug.

“True, but not only will it be directing energy toward the anomaly, it will have to do so at significantly higher strengths than the scans we've been doing if it has any chance of getting through.”

Harry looked up from his work to interject, “I'm estimating that I'll have to magnify the signal by at least a factor of 2 for it to have any chance at all of getting through. If they are in there.”

“Can we try routing it through the other probe?” Chakotay's question passed her ear like a warm breeze.

Harry frowned, considering. “Sure. But I can't guarantee the signal will get where it needs to go. With all the radiation and the particles that spill out when that thing opens up, there's no telling how the signal will get bounced around. I don't even know how they managed to get a signal out, if they really are in there.”

Janeway weighed the options. There wasn't a lot of time to think. Was it worth putting the ship at risk to try to talk to people that may or may not actually be alive? She wanted to say no, that as close as they were to home, they weren't home yet and this was a mission they should never have been given. But as much as she wanted to say no, she couldn't. It wasn't just the garbled mayday, or the fact that it was a fellow Federation ship (after the incident with the Equinox, she was no longer willing to assume that USS meant friend even if they were in Federation space at this point). No, it was simply the fact that if it was Voyager stuck inside that hostile morass of radiation, she would want anyone on the outside to give her ship, her crew, a fighting chance for survival.

“We'll try routing it though the further probe first. If we can't find the signal with it, then we'll use the modified probe and hope the signal strength doesn't wake the beast.” She gave Harry's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back, out of the limited space behind the ops station “Let me know when you're ready to try transmitting, Mister Kim.”

Harry nodded distractedly as his fingers continued to manipulate his console. “Two minutes, Captain.”

She returned to the tactical station, wanting to touch base with Tuvok before she returned to the command deck. She valued his advice, even on those occasions when she didn't take it. The news that he was afflicted by a debilitating mental diseased had been devastating. If it was in her power, Voyager would be detouring by Vulcan to deliver him into the hands of his family prior to returning to Earth. It wouldn't add more than a couple of hours to their return and a couple of hours delay in their homecoming was a minor price to pay for Tuvok's health.

“Everything seem normal?” She let her eyes ask the questions that she couldn't give voice to and saw the faint, almost imperceptible softening in Tuvok's dark eyes. Over their long years of friendship, she had only seen it a few times and those few instances had always been when he was attempting to sooth her human emotions. The fact that she saw it now worried her for it was not her emotions that were now in turmoil. “I'll get you home, my dear friend.” It was more of a breath than a whisper but his superior Vulcan hearing was more than up to the task and he acknowledged the vow, so similar to the promise she'd made him seven years prior, with the briefest of nods.

It wasn't really enough but in this moment it was all she could do and she reluctantly returned to the centre of the bridge. As she took her seat, she studiously avoided Chakotay's gaze. Whether it was because he was human and had a better grasp of the havoc of emotions, or because they'd spent three months alone together in exile, he knew her as well if not better than Tuvok. As she'd crossed the deck, she'd read the concern and curiosity in his regard. She would have to answer him later, but for the moment she needed to put him aside and focus on the job at hand.

“Harry?”

“I've almost got it, just anoth – There! The connection is ready to go.”

“This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the starship Voyager. Shambhala, do you copy?” She glanced over Chakotay's head to receive the nod that told her the message had been captured and was now being sent out toward the anomaly and possibly the Shambhala. If they were able to make contact, it would likely take the other ship a few minutes to clear up any interference in the communication so instead she asked for the current readings on the anomaly. For the moment, Voyager was safe enough tucked behind the massive, tumbling asteroid, but if the magnified signal caused a reaction in the anomaly, she wanted to be prepared.

“Was there any reaction to the signal?”

“Not so far, Captain. It's a subspace signal so it's possible that just like the anomaly doesn't seem to react to ships passing by at warp speeds, the anomaly will ignore a subspace transmission as well.”

Janeway's lips pursed as she considered that. Possible, but unlikely. Even thought it was a subspace signal, there was still significant energy being output by the probe in real space that the anomaly wasn't reacting to, either. It felt unnatural and more than a little suspect. B'Elanna thought the thing might be alive and if that was the case, there was a chance that it could understand what they were attempting and be trying to prevent communication by not opening.

Another, more distant thought was that perhaps announcing their identity had not been the best idea. Missing for nearly a week now, the Shambhala had already been reported missing when Voyager made her grand entrance. She only hoped that if the Shambhala crew did receive the message, they wouldn't think they were about to be spit out into the Delta quadrant.

“Let's increase the signal strength to three hundred percent and nudge the scanning up a bit. I want it to slowly increase to fifty percent intensity over ten minutes.” Even if the anomaly could sense and obstruct the communication attempt, she hoped that it would still be interested in finding out exactly what was sitting outside and radiating energy.

“It's reacting, Captain! Alpha, beta, and gamma radiation just flared and there are significant levels of verterons, duderons, and dekyons at this point.”

It was more of a reaction than she'd hoped they'd get to the comm signal, but at least the anomaly had opened, however briefly.

Chapter Text

Chapter Seventeen

Alpha quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54982.3

Earth

The first time Hayes had wondered if he'd made a mistake, he was in the cafeteria at Starfleet headquarters in San Francisco. His office was in another wing and usually he preferred to patronize the shops and bistros that lined the boulevards just beyond the campus, but technical difficulties had delayed his communications with the Falkirk, he'd had a meeting in less than an hour, and it was raining, so instead he'd ducked down to the cafeteria.

It had been rebuilt since the Breen's bombing three years prior, and was now more of a garden and replimat than a cafeteria. A wall of windows looked out on the centre green. Between two other command buildings, you could see snippets of Starfleet Academy and even the Golden Gate bridge when the weather was clear. On his rare visits to the cafeteria, Hayes usually sat near the windows to enjoy the natural light. Today however, with the leaden clouds looming overhead and the Academy vanished in the fog, he'd taken a small table near the interior doors.

As he'd picked at a remarkably unappetizing rendition of tomato soup, he'd cast idly about the space for something more interesting than the bland liquid before him. He'd caught sight of a familiar figure by the bank of replicators and was about to wave when the other man strode directly for table settled into one of the partial alcoves formed by the end columns that bracketed the glass wall.

Hayes had frowned at he watched Rear Admiral Adam Galt join Admirals Minton and Fess. While friendly enough with Galt, Hayes had a particular apathy toward the other two. All three of them had come out of the Dominion War with lengthy lists of commendations. Had the war not been quite so hard or quite so deadly, none of them probably would have seen themselves riding a desk at this point in their careers, but the public had been desperate for heroes and figureheads and Starfleet had capitulated to the will of the people by promoting a slew of young command officers to the Admiralty.

It was pomp and show, at least initially, with the young batch of flag officers spending more time on social speaking events than they did in their offices, but as the most visible scars of the war faded, so to did the need for overt public relations efforts and Jeremiah Hayes had suddenly found himself forced to work with a number of admirals that he felt were neither qualified nor competent. He'd been moderately impressed by Galt, who had been assigned to work closely with authorities from Betazed as the planet struggled to come back from it's wartime occupation and associated loss of life.

Minton and Fess, on the other hand, were some of the worst of the nouveaux admirals in Hayes opinion. They'd been glory hounds on small frigates and the like, dashing to battles at the eleventh hour to score the winning blow, but no where to be found when the heavy hitting was really going on. He hadn't had much contact with either of them, but what little there was had firmly cemented his impression of them smooth operators with more charm than sense. In particular, he'd found Minton to be judgemental in the extreme with a set of unpleasant biases that never would have been acceptable in a flag officer let alone a captain of the 'Fleet seven years ago.

Watching Galt talk easily with the other two had prompted Hayes to look a bit more deeply into Galt's history. His command had lacked the show and status of the frigates, but the Antioch's work in resupplying the starships, frigates, and destroyers had been essential to the success of the Federation. But for all that he'd made sure to be on hand when those on the front lines needed supplies, the Antioch had simultaneously and callously ignored or avoided other requests for aid. Though it's route had frequently taken it near Betazed after its liberation, Galt's ship had never once paused to spare aid for the beleaguered planet.

Similarly, although the ships of the trio had been in the vicinity when the Maquis outpost on Tevlik's moon had been under attack, not one of them had made so much as a token effort to stop that slaughter. And while Minton was the most outspoken of the three, Hayes was aware enough of scuttlebutt to know that they had all taken stances against the re-admittance of former border colonies that had struggled with depredations by the Cardassians and Dominion both before and during the war.

Hayes had further begun to detect patterns that he suspected were subtle efforts to discredit, discourage, and otherwise disenfranchise individuals that had held even temporary allegiances with the Maquis. After spotting this disturbing trend, he'd gone back to look more closely at the Shambhala's disappearance. While he'd known that the Timgad had vanished in the same area, he hadn't been aware of the full body count of sector one five three.

He'd been physically ill when he'd made the connection.

Now, he sat in front of his comm terminal, waiting for Starfleet communications to provide him with an uplink to Voyager.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eighteen

Beta quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54983.1

USS Voyager

“Can you tell if the signal it getting through?” Janeway glanced at the command console, watching the violent eddies of particles and energy displayed as lines before looking back at ops.

Harry shoook his head, “There's too much radiation. I can try boosting the signal but I'm not sure it would help.”

“Do it.”

“Boosti–“ He cut off before he could complete the order. “Captain, I'm getting something!”

She turned in surprise, not sure if he'd even boosted the signal or not. “Let's hear it.”

Harry hesitated, “Uh, I think I've actually got a visual feed this time.” He frowned as he worked over his station. “It's a little corroded, but if I can clean it up a bit . . .” He glanced up at the viewscreen and Janeway followed his gaze.

Slowly the snowy static faded to reveal a haggard looking woman who leaned awkwardly on a console. “This is Commander Felicity Gardiner, acting-captain of the USS Shambhala. Is there someone out there?” She seemed to be peering toward the screen.

Janeway shared a quick glance with her first officer before standing and stepping forward. “This is Captain Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. Are you receiving this, Shambhala?”

For long moments, Gardiner seemed to stare hopelessly at the screen and even began to turn away when suddenly her tired, drawn face came alive. “Yes. Yes! I can hear you!” The relief in her voice and expression was unmistakeable. “We encountered some sort of rupture or fissure in space and were sucked in. The radiation levels are incredible. Many of the crew are dead and the engines are barely functioning. We are just barely managing to maintain a metaphasic shield but we can't hold it much longer.”

A soft step told Janeway that her first officer had taken his customary place behind her left shoulder. It was comforting to know he was there, even when they weren't confronting hostiles. “Yes, we were sent to look for you.” It wasn't the full truth, but that could be handled later. “We've managed to partially open the rift without being pulled inside ourselves. If we keep the rift open, do you think you can get out?”

Tuvok spoke from his station, “I am detecting extremely high levels of tachyons, Captain.”

She held up a hand to cut him off. She didn't need to be told, and Commander Gardiner didn't need to hear the possibility that they were speaking though time. It would be impossible without comparing chronitron readings to determine if the Shambhala had really managed to survive in the anomaly for five days.

Gardiner had looked off screen again and seemed to be arguing with someone. The audio had been muted, presumably on the Shambhala's end so Janeway took the opportunity to observe Gardiner's surroundings. It was clear that wherever the woman was, she wasn't on the bridge. It looked like perhaps engineering or a science lab, but without being more familiar with the Shambhala's class, she couldn't make a more positive identification. The odd location combined with Gardiner's appearance and status as acting captain suggested that Shambhala had probably lost her captain and possibly her bridge module as well.

At last, Gardiner turned back to the screen. Some of the life had faded from her face and she regarded Voyager's captain with what looked like resignation. "I'm afraid not, Captain. All of our propulsion systems are offline. We don't even have thrusters." Gardiner glanced down and her unkempt hair temporarily shielded her face. The woman pushed it back impatiently when she raised her eyes again. "I'm not even sure if thrusters would help. Our sensors are completely scrambled and navigation is useless. We wouldn't know where to go even it we could move."

An alarm seemed to go off at one of the stations and Gardiner turned swiftly, then stumbled, before catching herself on the back of a chair. Someone moved between Gardiner and the video feed, blocking visual for several seconds. When the blockage pass, a pale looking Andorian was working at the complaining console while Gardiner had returned to her previous position. "My acting first officer, Jostan." A weary gesture in the general direction of the Andorian functioned as an introduction. The Andorian made no move to acknowledge that he or she had been addressed. "The bulkheads just failed on deck twelve. Not that there's anyone down there, but as you can see, we're rather at the end of our resources."

"Just how many crew do you have left, Commander?"

“Thirteen,” came the slow response, accompanied by an ironic twist of the lips that looked more like a grimace than the smile that had probably been intended. “Out of twenty seven.”

Janeway could hear the collective gasp from her crew and hoped the sound wouldn't carry over the comm line. She dipped her head in respect to the loss of life.

“Captain, I think the anomaly is about to close again.” Harry stated urgently.

Static was beginning to mar the transmission again, as radiation and particle densities fluctuated. “Commander Gardiner, I'll do everything in my power to get your people out of there.” By the time she'd uttered the last word, the screen was awash with static and it returned to the asteroid dotted starfield a moment later. “Did that get through?” In an instant, she was hovering over Harry's shoulder again, searching for some sign that the Shambhala had been able to receive the entirety of her words.

“I don't know, Captain. If I hadn't seen it on the screen, I'm not sure I could have told you if we were getting through at the strongest point.”

For a moment, Janeway allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to lose more than half her crew. It was a dismal thought and she couldn't imagine how Gardiner was holding up. “All right, people, I want options. For now, Harry, let's reduce the scanning down to thirty-five percent. We're going to need as much time as we can get.”

The words had scarcely left her mouth when the turbolift slid open and Seven strode onto the bridge. “I--” She trailed off as she became aware of the somber expressions. “Captain?”

For a just a moment, Janeway had forgotten why Seven was expected on the bridge. “I trust you've come up with a way to compensate for the verteron radiation?”

“I, yes, Captain.” She glanced around again. “I appear to have missed some event.”

“Ensign Kim can brief you on what you missed.” With any luck, Seven's solution would also be applicable for their new mission. Gardiner's strained and hopeless face flashed in her mind. “I'll be in my ready room. Commander, you're with me. You have the bridge, Tuvok.” She was gone before anyone could question her.

In the ready room, she stopped, bracing her arms on the back of one of the guest chairs and as the doors hissed shut, she let her head drop forward. Whether it was the turmoil of the return to Federation space, the stress of five days of insufficient sleep, the tension of making contact with the Shambhala, or a combination of the three, her feelings were closer to the surface than usual. When Chakotay's warm hand fell on her trembling shoulder, it was all she could do to choke back the sob that had risen in her throat. She almost forgotten that she'd told him to follow her and was now regretting the order as she struggled to rein in her emotions.

“Kathryn?” There was a note of tender concern in his voice that she couldn't remember having heard in recent months.

Over the past year, they'd drifted apart and she knew they both shared the blame. Aside from his recent attachment to Seven, he'd begun pleading off their shared dinners months ago. And the conversations during the remaining dinners had become stilted and uncomfortable. For her part, she had been more than usually withdrawn for a while. Assimilation, partial or not, was no small matter and her back had troubled her for weeks even after the Doctor had removed the last of the spinal clamps. More recently, she'd had to put herself together after being brainwashed on Quarra while Chakotay had been taking care of the ship and dealing with the Quarran officials to ensure nothing of the sort happened again. She'd been torn, at the time, between her attachment to Jaffen and her resurgent memories of Chakotay. Maybe it hadn't been the best choice, but at the time, she'd felt her only option was to sort through them alone and she'd deliberately avoided Chakotay so that his presence wouldn't skew her conclusions. It occurred to her that aside from telling him she was glad he'd come for here, she'd never thanked him for his tireless work during that incident.

"Kathryn?" The query was repeated and although the tenderness was still present, the concern was the overwhelming feature.

It was on the tip of her tongue to claim that she was fine, as she had so often in the past, but even as she opened her mouth, the words died in her throat. It was part and parcel of the estrangement between them, her reluctance to open up in any meaningful way. "I just can't imagine what she's going through." Another shudder coursed through her body and she found herself drawn into a warm embrace.

How long they remained that way, she wasn't sure, but his solid support provided the strength she needed to finally rein herself in and she slowly allowed herself to relax. She doubted that it had been his intention, but the respite from the turmoil of the past days was more welcome than she ever would have expected. Reluctantly, she stepped back. Chakotay's arms tightened for just a moment before letting her go as though he was no more eager than she to break the hug.

She felt like she should apologize for the moment of weakness but instead settled on a wry smile. What she did regret was something she couldn't put into words and something she doubted she had the wherewithal to discuss with him anytime soon, if ever. For now, her focus had to be on her duty and right now that was trying to find a way to rescue the remaining crew of the Shambhala.

For his part, Chakotay continued to look at her, his eyes roaming her face as if searching for some hint or clue, but to what end she couldn't imagine. Hoping to ease whatever his concerns were, she allowed herself to smile more fully and was glad to see a slow, answering smile gradually capture his features.

Realizing that while no longer embracing, his hands still rested on her waist, she took another step back with apologetic smile, wincing slightly as his arm fell limply to his sides. Still, it seemed as though the movement had reset their interaction for his face cleared and he looked professional pensive. “I was thinking perhaps we could use a shuttle craft. Have the ship and probes distract it while the Sacajawea goes in and gets them out.”

“And I suppose you would be piloting? I think not.”

“Baytart then.”

“There's no way we could outfit the Sacajawea with something that would be able to withstand the kind of radiation it would be subject to. Even with Harry's strengthened shields, Voyager is still susceptible to thalaron radiation. Fortunately, for the moment, we're out of range.”

“What about transporters, then? We'd have to get closer, but hopefully not all that far.”

“I've been thinking the same thing, but we can barely get a comm signal through to them. In order to have any chance of achieving a transporter lock, we'd have to not only narrow the targeting scanners as much as possible, but also pour as much power as we could spare into them. We've seen how this anomaly reacts to regular scanning. We'd be hit with the full wash of the radiation in moments.”

In the back of her mind, she'd been turning over ideas almost from the moment Commander Gardiner had appeared on the screen, but so far, she was no closer to an answer than she had been before.

“What about the metaphasic shielding or whatever that Gardiner mentioned? It's keeping them alive. Why wouldn't it work for us?”

Janeway cocked her head, regarding him fondly. The mention had slipped by her earlier and she thanked him for the reminder. She recalled when the original papers on metaphasic shielding had come out almost ten years ago. The Enterprise had been one of the first ships to ever use it successfully, but for the most part, the technology had still been considered primarily theoretical when Voyager had been swept into the Delta quadrant. Due to the enormous energy requirements, she'd been hesitant to try it on Voyager and B'Elanna had never made the suggestion. They had, however, run into metaphasic shielding in the Delta quadrant. The Mokra, she recalled had used it, and as she recalled, Voyager had managed to determine a way to get a transporter beam through them. She touched his chest. “That just might work.”

“Always happy to be of assistance.” He grinned down at her with a full on smile and for the first time in a while she felt the magnetic pull that seemed to have existed between them from the beginning snap into play. She could feel her body wanting to fall forward. She wondered why the sensation would return now, when he had finally moved on.

She shook her head in an attempt to dislodge the feeling. “We should go.” Was it her imagination or was there the briefest of hesitations before he nodded? He turned and gestured for her to precede him and the moment was gone.

They emerged back onto the bridge and Janeway felt the eyes of the crew on them. In the earliest part of their journey, it had been a frequent sensation, as though both the Starfleet and Maquis members of the crew were looking for the smallest sign of discontent between their leaders. Later, she knew the crew had been attuned to the very thing she'd just wrenched herself away from and they had been watching for any sign that the command team had succumbed to the attraction between them. But now the collective regard felt almost suspicious, though she couldn't imagine why until she caught sight of Seven's assessing gaze.

She froze for a fraction of a second before she felt the almost imperceptible touch of Chakotay's hand on the small of her back. They hadn't really done anything but the sense of guilt disconcerting. And yet, Seven didn't seem angry or concerned in the least, but curious and perhaps even approving. Giving herself a mental shake, Janeway resumed her purposeful stride toward the centre seat. “Harry, have you given Seven the run-down?”

“Yes, ma'am, but we haven't made much headway on figuring out how the help the Shambhala's crew.”

“Seven, are you familiar with metaphasic shielding?”

“Yes, captain. The Borg assimilated the technology from Species 928 in 2304. Due to it's limited effectiveness and energy requirements, it was deemed obsolete in favour of more efficient shield configurations.”

“Well, let's see if we can't dig it out of the mothballs, shall we?”

The expression on Seven's face clearly conveyed that she didn't understand the captain's phrasing. “Captain?”

“It's an old Earth expression, never mind.” Janeway waved off the issue. Explaining euphemisms and idioms could wait for later. “I want you to work with engineering to erect a metaphasic shield for the ship. Don't worry too much about the energy consumption – with any luck, we won't be using it long.”

Seven frowned but nodded. It seemed she was in an agreeable mood. “Yes, Captain.” The tall blond turned and exited the bridge.

“Ensign, I believe you were instrumental in developing a way to penetrate the metaphasic shielding used by the Mokra?”

It took Harry a moment to place the name but then he nodded. “Yes, captain. We used radion beams to penetrate the shielding and imbedded the transporter signal in one of them.”

“Excellent. I want you to work with Seven in engineering. The Shambhala is currently using metaphasic shielding to protect themselves from the radiation. I'm hoping we can use your radion beam to penetrate both our shields and theirs in order to beam out the crew.”

Harry nodded sharply and vanished after Seven. Janeway surveyed the rest of the bridge. Ensign Swinn had replaced Kim at ops, Baytart was still at the conn, Crewman Yosa was manning the engineering station, and Ensign Hickman was working at the science station. For the most part, the previous night had granted the crew a chance for a regular sleep schedule, so they wouldn't need to be relieved for another couple of hours.

“Bridge to Engineering.”

“Vorik here, captain.” The young Vulcan answered crisply.

“Ensign, do we have an estimate on the metaphasic shielding yet?”

There was a brief moment of indistinct sound before Vorik replied. “Seven says that it will take approximately two point three hours to make all modifications necessary.”

“Thank you. Bridge out.” She glanced at Ops. “Ensign Swinn, are you familiar with how we were able to make contact with the Shambhala?”

The young woman looked slightly startled at being addressed but answered readily enough. “Uh, yes, Captain.” Her voice lilted up at the end, making the statement into something of a question.

“Re-initialize the communication signal at three hundred percent. I'd like to to set the further probe to gradually increase it's scanning intensity by fifteen percent over the next ten minutes. As soon as it become consistently active, we should be able to make contact.”

“Yes, captain.”

Janeway nodded and sat back in her seat. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ensign Swinn, but she kept an eye on the slowly changing readings on the central console.

“We have increased levels of tachyons, duderons, and dekyons. Tachyons and tetryons are still nominal but alpha, beta, and gamma bands of radiation have increased as well.” Swinn announced after several minutes. As quick glance showed that the intensity of the scanning was at forty-seven percent, about the level at which they 'd first managed contact with the Shambhala.

“Shambhala, this is Voyager, do you read?”

The response came almost immediately though it was noticeably degraded and Janeway hoped the two point three hours they needed to attempt the rescue would not doom the other ship's crew. “Captain Janeway, I did not expect to hear from you so quickly.” Gardiner seemed slightly cheered by this. “Dare I hope you may have found a way to rescue my crew?”

“We think so, but it will take a couple of hours to make the modifications required. How are you holding up?”

A twisted grimace of a smile contorted Gardiner's face. “As well as can be expected, Captain, considering that this thing seems to be doing it's damnedest to digest us whole. We'll hold out as long as we can.”

“Hopefully that will be long enough. Voyager out.” It was not in Janeway's nature to sugar-coat the realities of a dire situation. There was a very real possibility that no matter how dedicated and earnest her crew, they would not be able to light upon a way to help them before the Shambhala's energy reserves were exhausted.

Chapter Text

Chapter Nineteen

A little over two hours later, Voyager was ready to go. Seven and Harry had returned to the bridge to monitor things from there as they brought the metaphasic shielding online. Baytart was poised to bring the ship out from behind the protective asteroid, and the rest of the bridge crew manned their stations with the familiar tense anticipation with which they had met numerous other challenges. Janeway didn't like risking the entire ship, but there was no other way to get to the Shambhala.

Chakotay leaned over and spoke for her ears only, “Maybe we should have tried outfitting a shuttle with the shielding instead.”

She smiled and shook her head, shifting so they would not be overhear. “The energy requirements for the shielding are to great. We'll be lucky if we can maintain the required subspace compression of the shields more than an hour.” Seeing that everyone was in their places, she was about to order Baytart to bring them out into the open when the turbolift slid open and Tom Paris stumbled out.

“Am I late for the party?”

Janeway scanned his face for signs of fatigue, but it was clear. “Don't tell me Miral had already settled into a sleeping pattern, Mr. Paris?”

“No, ma'am, but B'Elanna let me off the hook last night. She thought you might want your best pilot at the helm. No offence, Pablo.”

Baytart held up his hands, looking vaguely relieved. “She's a great ship to fly, don't get me wrong, Captain, but I don't have the experience with her that Tom does.” He stood and vacated the conn, allowing Paris to slide into his customary seat.

While Janeway was confident that Pablo would have managed, she felt a slight loosening of the knot in her stomach seeing Tom in his place. “Thank you, Mr. Baytart, but don't see yourself short. You've performed commendably the past few days.” Pablo ducked a quick nod and hastily left the bridge.

“All right, Tom, let's take her out. For now we're just going to skirt the edge of the asteroid belt while Harry deploys a few more probes. Once we get that thing to open up, then we'll move in.”

“Got it.” Tom's hand played over the controls in much the way a concert pianist manipulated his instrument and the tumbling rocks slid out of view.

“Harry.” The single word was all that was needed and three golden points of light sped away from the ship on the viewscreen.

“Probes away, Captain. Ready to start transmitting on your mark”

“Tuvok?”

“All stations report ready, Captain.”

“Very well. Harry, start the sequence.”

After analyzing further data from the probes during their communications with the trapped Shambhala, they'd determined that the nearer probe had not been receiving the same levels of radiation as the transmitting probe. Based on that information, they'd armed the other probes to be spaced more or less in a semi-circle around the anomaly and they would hopefully draw most of the destructive energy in their direction, allowing Voyager to approach close enough to lock on and beam out the Shambhala survivors.

“Probes at twenty-five percent and increasing, Captain. They're all reading the anticipated increase in verteron particles and gamma radiation. I'm also reading a build up of verteron particles, but minimal radiation in our direction.”

“Move us in a little closer, Tom. Is the metaphasic shielding ready?” Seven was handling that part of the mission from the auxiliary terminals at the back of the bridge.

“Yes, Captain. The shielding apparatus is online.”

“Harry, start tightening up our shields.”

“Subspace compression at four thousand six hundred seventy two millicochranes. Four thousand six hundred fifty-eight millicochranes . . .” Harry continued the countdown.

“The probes have reached thirty-five percent.” Tuvok reported. “Verterons and gamma radiation is increasing in their vicinities. Still reading nominal levels of radiation in our direction.”

“Four thousand six hundred twenty-seven . . . Four thousand six hundred fifteen!”

“Seven?”

“Metaphasic shielding is coming online, captain.” A faint haze seemed to appear on the viewscreen. “Shielding has been deployed. Energy levels holding steady. We should be able to maintain the shields for approximately seventy-two minutes.”

“Hopefully this won't take that long.” Janeway shared a brief glance with Chakotay, drawing comfort from his solid presence. “Tom, one-sixteenth impulse. I don't want to be right on top of it when it opens.”

“Aye, captain. One-sixteenth impulse.”

"Probes are now at forty percent. Infrared radiation is increasing at the source. Duderons and dekyons are present at expected levels. Alpha and beta radiation has increased significantly."

"Keep going."

"Metaphasic shielding is holding. Energy levels are at ninety-eight percent."

"Tachyons and tetryons are now increasing, along with duderons, dekyons, and verterons. Radiation is at four hundred percent of normal in the vicinity of the probes; we are experiencing a ninety-seven percent increase in radiation around the shields. Deck eleven is reading a minute increase in gamma radiation."

"Why?"

"The distance between our shields and the hull for the aft section of deck eleven is presently one point nine six metres. A small amount of the increased radiation is penetrating the metaphasic shielding."

"I am attempting to compensate, but it will increase the energy drain."

"Evacuate the section. Keep me informed if the radiation begins to affect other parts of the ship."

"Of course, Captain."

"Probes are now at fifty percent. The probes are experiencing serious fluctuations in lepton levels."

"Harry, try to open a channel to the Shambhala."

"Channel open."

"Shambhala, this is Voyager. We're approaching your position.”

The screen hissed and cleared slowly. Gardiner was leaning heavily against the console now, most of her weight carried by her arms. Her face looked unnaturally pale in the emergency lighting and she was breathing heavily. “I don't think we'll make it, Captain,” she gasped. “The shielding is failing and radiation is slowly seeping in. Jostan's already down, I don't know how many others.”

“Five thousand kilometres to the event horizon,” Tom reported. The ship was beginning to shimmy in the currents of massive particle densities the closer they got. He used a knee to try to keep himself steady; he needed both hands to keep them on course in the rapidly shifting currents.

“I've got them on sensors, Captain, but with all the interference, I can't get a lock yet.” Harry sounded positively frazzled as he pushed the sensors to their utmost.

“Hold on, Commander, we're nearly there.” Janeway uttered the words not knowing if they were an update to Gardiner or a prayer to some unknown deity.

“Captain the original probe has ceased broadcasting and the remaining four are beginning to fail.” Tuvok's calm seemed incongruous with the tense and harried actions of the rest of the bridge. “I am reading extremely high levels of gamma and thalaron radiation just beyond our shields.” He didn't need to explain what would happen if their own shields failed. Thalaron radiation was deadly even in minute doses.

“Captain,” Gardiner protested, “You don't have to do this . . . we're probably dead anyway.”

“The increased radiation levels are causing the metaphasic shielding to draw more energy, Captain. It will fail in fourteen minutes.” Even Seven sounded stressed.

“Four thousand five hundred kilometres.”

Janeway turned to Harry, her eyes beseeching him to say he could get a lock.

“Initiating radion beams now.” Harry frowned. “I think they're getting through but I, I just don't know, Captain. I could be locking on to bulkheads.”

“Eleven minutes to metaphasic shielding collapse.”

“Torres to bridge.” The unexpected hail caused Tom to fumble his controls and the ship lurched, sending everyone scrabbling for something to hold on to.

“Yes, B'Elanna?” Janeway had to yell over the sounds of alarms as Paris struggled to smooth their flight. Questions crashed through her mind, wondering why Torres was contacting them, hoping desperately that Miral hadn't been injured.

“Captain, I'm in transporter room two. I think I can get a lock.”

“Harry, transfer transporter controls to Torres.”

“A second probe has been destroyed, Captain,” Tuvok intoned. With each probe that was destroyed it was more and more likely that the anomaly would turn all of its destructive forces on them.

“Synchronizing transporter signal to the radion beams now, Captain.” B'Elanna reported. She was muttering under her breath as she worked.

“Four thousand kilometres.”

“Captain, I'm picking up increasing gamma radiation along the exterior hull.” Relieved from control of the transporters, Harry was focusing all his attention on the sensors. “Kinoplasmic radiation is also beginning to infiltrate the shields.”

“Three probes down. There are only two remaining.”

“Our shields will collapse in less than six minutes.” Janeway held up a hand. She didn't want to retreat until they absolutely had to.

“B'Elanna, have you got them?”

“I'm transporting now, Captain!” Several Klingon expletives floated over the comm channel.

“I'm reading high levels of radiation in the transporter room. It must be infiltrating the transporter signature.” Harry frowned, “I'm attempting to scrub the radition from the transporter.”

“Three minutes.”

“Do you have them, B'Elanna?” Janeway felt Chakotay's steadying hand on her arm as the ship gave another lurch.

“Inertial dampners at sixty-four percent. The kinoplasmic radiation is beginning to affect our systems.”

“Two minutes, captain.”

“The second to last probe has been destroyed. The energy readings on the last probe are fluctuating erratically.”

“I have them, Captain!”

“Forty-five seconds.”

“Tom, take us out of here!” The turbulent image on the viewscreen swung sickening as Voyager banked sharply.

“The last probe has been destroyed.” The announcement was accompanied by massive shudder through the ship and Harry's console sparked and exploded, sending the ensign to the floor.

“Sixteen seconds.”

“Reading thalaron radiation in the aft shuttle bay, and the forward section of decks seven and eight.. The areas have been evacuated.”

“Tuvok, fire the polaric torpedoes!” Janeway clung to her chair as the ship shuddered and bucked. “Can we go to warp?”

“I'm trying, Capatain, but the warp bubble keeps collapsing.” Tom frantically tried to coax more speed from the buffeted ship.

“Torpedoes away, Captain.”

“On screen.” Two quickly dwindling sparks of gold shot into the writhing, reaching maelstrom behind them.

“Eight seconds . . . five, four, three, two, one . . . metaphasic shielding is collapsing!”

The faint glimmer from the shields dissolved just as twin flares sparked and a wave of red light rushed over them.

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty

Alpha quadrant – 2378

Stardate 54987.9

Earth

The day had dawned with clear skies and the promise of exceptionally beautiful weather. The view out her office windows resembled a travel brochure, but Alynna took little notice. She'd been notified late last night that Hayes had attempted to contact Voyager. Whether he'd come to his senses or not was still in question as communications had been unable to raise the intrepid starship. She wasn't ready to write Janeway off yet, but she would have to make a decision if communications hadn't resumed in thirty-six hours.

A fresh crop of PADDs had accumulated on her desk over night and lacking anything else to occupy her mind at the moment, she picked up the first one and began to read. She found herself unable to concentrate, however, and set it aside in favour of a PADD she'd reviewed many times over the last week and a half. It was the Federation Council's decision regarding the disposition of the crew of Voyager.

They had granted full pardons for the former Maquis of the crew and Lieutenant Tom Paris' sentence had been commuted. Both the former Maquis and Paris would be allowed to retain their provisional ranks and continue in Starfleet if they chose. The Council hadn't been quite so accommodating with the Equinox crewmembers, however. The five survivors of the doomed ship would not be permitted to continue in the service but rather would be honourably discharged from Starfleet.

She frowned as re-read the section concerning the Equinox survivors. Their behaviour prior to joining the crew of Voyager was abhorrent to Nechayev and she considered them to be some of the worst examples 'Fleet had ever turned out. Acting on Ransom's orders or not, they had killed sentient creatures for their own personal gain. She would have liked to see the Council hand down something more than an honourable discharge, but their service on Voyager had shown no inclination to return to their previous habits. So they would retain their compensation for their service rather than be forced into public housing.

She was still frowning when the door to her yeoman's office slid open and Petral entered with a nervous glance behind. “Yes?”

“Admiral Hayes is requesting to speak with you, ma'am.”

Nechayev fought the urge to roll her eyes. The old blow-hard should have come to her immediately but instead he'd kept his own counsel, the fool. “Yes, show him in.” Petral ducked out again and she heard the faint murmur of voices through the open door before Jeremiah Hayes appeared. While he may have been to proud to admit his mistake in a timely manner, it was clear from his appearance that he'd at least suffered from a guilt conscience for dark shadows hung beneath his sunken eyes and his uniform hung oddly as though he'd lost several kilograms in a short amount of time.

“Jeremiah. What can I do for you?” Her voice was cold and precise despite the informal address. Even so she read a trace of humour in his eyes. Petral had once shared that Hayes thought she looked like a girl playing dress-up behind the massive desk so she stood and moved to stand by the windows.

Hayes swallowed. “It's about Voyager.”

Nechayev didn't move and waited for him to continue. She had no interest in making this any easier for him.

“Er, I may have made a mistake in ordering her to investigate the Shambhala's disappearance.”

She bit her tongue to keep from laughing at him outright. “I see. And what brought you to this conclusion?”

He shifted uncomfortably but as she ignored it. It had likely been years since the last time he'd had to stand at attention and Nechayev thought the tacit reminder of Starfleet protocols might do him good. “I ordered Voyager to investigate the Shambhala's disappearance at the request of Rear Admiral Galt. He'd arrived in my office just after the announcement of Voyager's return.

“He claimed that relatives of the Shambhala's crew had expressed concerns that the ship's disappearance hadn't been examined thoroughly but that with the Fleet spread so thin, he'd been having difficulty finding anyone to give it another look. He pointed out that the Shambhala had been one of the ships to search for Voyager seven years ago and that since Voyager had only just returned, she couldn't possibly have any other pressing orders. Since Voyager hadn't reported any damage, I agreed.”

She made no comment, knowing there must be more. Hayes shrugged diffidently. “It was only yesterday that I realized Galt may have had an ulterior motive. I've discovered that in addition to the Shambhala and the Timgad, at least five other ships have been reported as either missing or destroyed in that sector. I attempted to recall Voyager but Communications has been unable to raise her since last night.”

She'd known that, but it didn't explain why it had taken him more than twelve hours to report that they'd lost contact. “Why wasn't I informed of this right away?”

“I'd hoped it was just a temporary glitch. There's been no distress call.” Hayes released a slow breath.

Nechayev hit the comm button on her desk. “Petral, I need you to get a hold of Admiral's Patterson and Paris. Tell them I need to see them immediately.”

“Isn't Patterson at Utopia Planetia?” His confusion might have been amusing in another situation but at present she felt like slapping him for his naivete. Instead, she gave him a quelling look and he fell silent, a state that she couldn't help but hope persisted for a while.

@>---,---\-----

Paris and Patterson arrived quickly, almost as if they'd been expecting her summons. And in Paris' case, it might have been true. The Pathfinder project that had initially made contact with Voyager in the Delta quadrant fell under the Communications umbrella. With his son on Voyager, it was entirely probable that someone had mentioned that communication attempts with the ship had failed to receive a response. He certainly looked pale and tired enough for the idea to gain traction in her mind.

“Gentlemen.” She smiled at them, though it was hardly a warm smile. She knew that there were many in Starfleet and the upper levels of the Federation that considered her something of an “ice queen”, but her current lack of warmth was directly related to the seriousness of the situation. Judging by the way Hayes was fidgeting, she suspected that he might use the term “hopeless”, but Nechayev was familiar with the resourcefulness of Kathryn Janeway and wasn't ready to write them off yet.

“What's he doing here?” Owen Paris had spotted Hayes and if the look of pure disgust in his face was anything to go by, he'd definitely been informed that they'd lost communications with Voyager.

Nechayev held up a hand, hoping to forestall any bloodshed before they'd even touched on the preliminaries. “Owen, I can't imagine how you must feel right now, but unchecked tempers are not going to do anyone any good, least of all Voyager.”

Patterson cleared his throat, “I feel a bit out of the loop. What's going on, Alynna? Has something new come up since yesterday?”

Hayes looked about to speak but she quelled him with a look. He apparently hadn't cottoned on to the fact that Owen both knew that Voyager was incommunicado and who was to blame for that state of affairs. “You could say that, Teddy. An attempt was made,” in the interests of staving off a homicide she choose not to say who had instigated the request, “to recall Voyager from her present study in the Beta quadrant. It was unsuccessful.”

“What do you mean, unsuccessful? They're finally back in Federation space! How can we have lost communications with them again?”

“We're not sure at the moment.”

“Not sure! I know damn well who's to blame for this!” Owen advanced on Hayes with murder in his eyes.

“Owen, stand down.” Hayes was backed into a corner, as much as he could be without actually cowering. She wasn't sure if he was trusting her to prevent Owen from going too far out of control, or if he didn't believe that Owen would actually attack him physically, but she hoped it was the former. If he was truly underestimating Owen's wrath, the cleaning crew would have the dickens of a time getting the blood out of the carpet. “Owen, I know you're upset and you have every right to be. But we don't know anything for certain just yet.” She glanced at Patterson to be sure he was listening. “Yes, we've lost communications with Voyager, but it could be anything from an ion storm disrupting signals to something more serious.”

“He sent them into sector one five three, just off the Klingon border, but neglected to provide comprehensive information on the dangers.” Owen glowered, but he'd returned to one of the chairs so she was hopeful that his blood-lust was curbed for the moment.

“I didn't know!”

This time it was Nechayev who sent a disgusted look toward Hayes. She was reasonably sure that he was being honest, particularly after his prostrations earlier, but he should have known. Since there was little in the sector of interest and virtually all traffic through the area was at warp, it had been deemed unnecessary to alarm the general populace, but sector one-five-three had been flagged in the Admiralty's system since the Timgad had gone missing years ago. She wasn't even sure how Hayes could have ordered Voyager to that region without running into one of the warnings.

“Admiral?” Petral peeked his head in the door. Although the office had a state-of-the-art communications terminal, Petral avoided using it. Nechayev suspected it had something to do with his telepathic abilities. “We've just received word from Vulcan. Voyager just left orbit.” He handed her a PADD before retreating a few steps. A collective sigh of relief whispered in the room.

Nechayev quickly scanned the contents of the PADD and felt her shoulders sag as the anxiety lifted. “It seems their long-range transceiver assembly is currently non-functional.” She glanced up to see that Patterson was looking a bit more upbeat than he had a moment ago, and Owen was a man transformed. He looked almost like a ragdoll now that the tension and fear had been drained away.

Hayes frowned. “Do we know why they were at Vulcan?”

“It seems Captain Janeway decided to deliver Lieutenant Commander Tuvok to his home planet directly, for medical reasons.” Nechayev reported.

“What sort of medical reasons?” The tension had started to drain from Hayes as well but suddenly he was back to attention.

Alynna gave him a sidelong look. “You know Vulcans tend to be less than forthcoming about their medical issues, Jeremiah. If Janeway feels he would benefit from arriving on Vulcan sooner rather than later, I'm inclined to agree with her.”

Hayes didn't seem to share her view on the the Captain's prerogative, but apparently thought better of pressing the issue as he as he stepped back towards his corner. “That's all well and good. But what are we going to do about Galt and his friends? I'm willing to take responsibility for my part in this debacle, but unless we do something about them, they'll just find another way to make trouble when Voyager arrives.”

“Galt? You mean Dan Galt, the former freighter commander with delusions to the tactical theatre?” Patterson frowned. “He's a damn crony of Minton and Fess, and hoping to ride their coattails into the limelight no doubt. Not that either of them deserve the attention. They're fine fighters, but glory is their mistress. Their answer to any situation is to shoot first and count on there being no survivors to contradict their version of events.”

Owen had seemed lost in thought but now looked concerned. “You think there are irregularities in their service during the war?”

“I've heard rumours. Utopia Planetia gets a lot of engineers who are looking to stay a bit close to Earth for a time.” Patterson shrugged. “I've been around long enough that I'll discount something as bad blood the first or second time, but when it's three separate officers, I start to listen. And wonder.”

“Well, Hayes? Have you seen anything that would say they might not be the heroes they'd like to believe?” Since he had been Galt's contact for diverting Voyager she was particularly interested in his observation.

“Nothing definitive. Galt met with Minton and Fess in the cafeteria yesterday and they all looked rather pleased with themselves, but I was too far away to know what they were saying.” He thought for a moment, “What about the order suggestion to send Voyager out after the Shambhala? Even if it's a minor infraction, surely there's something about deliberately sending a vessel into a dangerous situation unprepared.”

“Yes, what about that? Can we at least charge Galt with reckless hazarding of a vessel? I know it's typically laid against captains, but couldn't it be applied to him?” wondered Patterson.

“I think Hayes is more likely to answer for that charge.” Paris sent Hayes a derisive look. As much as she knew Paris' attitude was due to concern for his son, she had to admit that he was right about who would legally culpable.

“Well, what about conspiracy, then? It would cover all three of them. Minton an Fess are hardly ever apart and Galt is with them as often as he can manage. Surely they've said or done something!”

“Galt's in logistics, isn't he? Nearly all requests and requisitions go through his office. Couldn't you call for an audit of aid requests, Alynna?”

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-one

Four hours later, Galt had been taken into custody and a team of security officers and a JAG representative was going over his office and files. Patterson had recommended that an officer from the Judge Advocate General's staff be requested to assist to ensure that Galt, Fess, and Minton wouldn't be able to avoid punishment on a technicality. With the investigation underway and the principles under lock-down, Nechayev, Hayes, Paris, and Patterson had felt comfortable toasting Voyager's return and make plans for her homecoming.

They decided to scramble a small fleet to greet and escort the erstwhile ship to Earth. Citing the fact that his last contact with the ship had sent them into a perilous situation dangerously unprepared, Hayes opted to remain at Starfleet Headquarters and oversee the disposition of Admirals Minton, Fess, and Galt. Nechayev suspected that Hayes was feeling more than a little used by the trio, and would no doubt seek the maximum penalties for the conspirators. He bore a decidedly wolfish expression as he wished the rest of them luck and then headed back to his office.

Nechayev turned to Paris and Patterson for the question of where to draw ships from the thin ranks of Starfleet. “We'll have to be careful with our approach. I don't doubt that Janeway smelled a rat when she got the orders to sector one-five-three and we don't want to make her think our fleet is a threat.”

“Not facing them with the full force of the Fleet will be some help, but it could also look like a strike force if we're not careful.” Patterson was plucking at his trousers and she frowned at the nervous habit.

“No weapons, that should be number one. Deflective shields only. Nothing that might make them think we expect a conflict.” Paris stated with an emphatic nod. “And while they may not have long-distance communications, we should try contact them through radio waves.”

Patterson looked up in surprise. “Radio waves? Those aren't fast enough for long-range communication.”

“No, but Voyager will take another two days to get back to Earth and they monitor those bands, so they'll be able to receive a message two lightdays out. The Pathfinder project should be able to transmit on that bandwidth.”

Nechayev could tell that Patterson had more questions but she cut him off. They didn't have time to go into the hows and wherefors of using ancient communications technology. “Good idea, Owen. Why don't you get started on that. You've been their point of contact and you have a vested interest in seeing them home, so you're a good spokesman. Use your best judgement on what to put in the message. I'd like you with me when we go out to greet them.”

Paris nodded, a trace of a smile in his eyes. “Will do.”

She turned to Patterson as Paris made his way out. “There are always a few ships at Utopia Planetia, even in the best of times. Do you have anything that won't suffer from a few days out of port?”

Patterson considered, his plucking slower as he considered. “The Chesapeake is just about a week away from relaunch and her captain's been up to see her everyday. Shouldn't be a problem to gather a skeleton crew for her. And the Delaware is nearly ready to go as well. I'm not sure where her captain is, though. She came in off a two year mission near Deep Space 6, so they were all due good long rest while we took care of the ship.”

“Good. The Chesapeake, that's Orrin Oshevski's ship isn't it?” Patterson nodded. “Good man. Not to techy about senior officers, if I recall. Hopefully he won't mind taking a Fleet Admiral out for a jaunt. Now the Delaware . . .” she paced before the windows. “I think Sigraal has her now. Competent if a little too stiff for my tastes. Good first officer material but I wasn't too keen to see her on the promotions list. I doubt she would have been if Qúnlì hadn't been killed.” She shook her head, dispelling dark thoughts. “Well, she should have some sympathy for Janeway after being stuck out back of beyond for the last couple of years anyway. See if you can't find out where she's taken her leave. I'll authorize two extra weeks for her and anyone else she can round up by the end of the day. Owen will be borrowing her ship tomorrow whether she's there or not. Anyone else?”

“The Ferdowsi was due at Mars this morning. They're due a couple days leave, but I'm sure Numatu could be convinced to delay that a few days. They were to far out to respond to the Borg threat, but they were redirected to pick up a few Voyager family members after the fact. I imagine Numatu has twigged why.”

“How many family members are still outstanding?”

“I don't have an exact number but we'd managed to find most of them. I do know that the Andarta ran into an ion storm not long after they left starbase 375; they're en route again but Kimball wants us to give her a look over when they get back. They have a few family members from the border colonies on board, including Commander Chakotay's sister, I believe.”

Nechayev frowned. Ion storms were an unfortunate hazard of space travel but she did wish that it hadn't delayed the Andarta. The two weeks since Voyager's emergence had given them a grace period in which to collect the families for a proper welcome home. It was a pity that the first officer's only family wouldn't be on hand, but there was nothing for it. Even if she sent a ship to rendezvous, it wouldn't get the passengers any faster. “Alright. Well, go see if you can't get crew enough for the Chesapeake and the Delaware. I'll contact Numatu myself.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-two

Beta Quadrant – 2378

USS Voyager

Sol's Oort Cloud

Janeway stood by the viewports in her ready room, staring out at the blurred streaks of light. They were finally approaching Earth and would be dropping out of warp in only a minute or two. Although Voyager had succeeded in her mission, the ship has suffered significant damage as they’d raced ahead of the deadly radiation spewing from the anomaly. Long range communications had been catastrophically damaged during their escape and Seven and Harry had spent the last six days attempting to rebuild the subspace transceiver assembly from scratch. Vulcan had sent word ahead, though, so she was hopeful that they wouldn't be greeted at phaser point when they entered the solar system.

“Bridge to Janeway.” Chakotay's warm voice broke into her thoughts as the elongated points of light abruptly changed to a relatively still starfield. “We've passed the Oort cloud and we're receiving a transmission on the AM band. It's a repeating message from Admiral Paris.”

She hesitated before answering. Of course Owen would know they monitored the slower bandwidths from the mission logs she'd sent, but the speed of radio precluded a reply. “Patch it through.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Janeway held her breath as the audio-only message began to play, then released it on a sigh as she sank onto the sofa. By then end of the minute-and-a-half-long message, she could feel the tears streaming down her face. She remained on the couch, staring out at the stars, as the message began to repeat. It was on it's third replay when the door chimed. She ordered the computer to halt the playback and dabbed at her eyes before calling for entry.

Chakotay entered, looking as relieved and happy as she felt. They must have listened to the message on the bridge before transferring it. Her joy bubbled over and she began to chuckle, then laugh out right as Chakotay turned to check that the door had shut behind him. “Kathryn?”

“We're going home, Chakotay, really and truly home.” She was beaming and tears still leaked over her cheeks but she just didn't care.

His answering grin revealed his dimples and she thought she detected a suspicious brightness in his eyes. “Yes, we are. Nozawa just picked up the ships on approach. We'll be within range for visual communications in less than five minutes.”

She nodded. “Let me clean up a bit and I'll join you on the bridge momentarily.” She ducked into the minuscule washroom as he returned the way he'd come.

As she emerged onto the bridge, Chakotay greeted her arrival with a smile. With most of the senior crew occupied elsewhere, he was monitoring systems from the centre console. “It's the Chesapeake, Delaware, and Ferdowsi.”

“Can we hail them yet?”

Nozawa nodded, “The first vessel is coming into short-range communications range.” He tapped at the console and the starfield on the viewscreen abruptly cut to the Chesapeake's bridge. Both Admiral's Paris and Nechayev were standing front and centre, their faces wreathed in smiles.

“Welcome home, Voyager.”

@>---,---\-----

Two hours later, Janeway sank into her desk chair with a contented sigh. Voyager was en route to Earth at warp one with both the Chesapeake and the Ferdowsi as escort while the Delaware had warped on ahead.

After the initial pleasantries, she'd left the bridge in Ayala's hands as she and Chakotay headed to the conference room to continue talking to the admirals. Janeway had been braced for a fight but it had never materialized at both Nechayev and Paris assured Voyager's command team that all warrants for the former Maquis had been quashed, full pardons granted, and provisional ranks upheld. The Equinox crewmembers would receive honourable discharges.

Seven's citizenship had already been confirmed and Janeway had Nechayev's assurance that Icheb's would be expedited. There would be a sentience trial for the Doctor, but his mobile emitter was inviolate for the time being. As Captain Picard and Lieutenant Commander Data had already expressed interest in helping with the trial, both Paris and Nechayev felt the verdict was virtually assured.

Both of the admirals had been amazed to hear that Voyager had managed to rescue a portion of the Shambhala's crew and Commander Gardiner had been summoned to the conference room to speak for her crew mates. It had been suggested that Gardiner and her compatriots should disembark with Voyager's crew, but the idea was nixed when the Doctor, who had accompanied Gardiner from sickbay, had protested that several of the crew were still undergoing treatment for radiation poisoning. Additionally, Gardiner had stated her preference to leave any homecoming limelight to Voyager. She and her crew would much rather be reunited with their families in the privacy of Starfleet Medical. They would, of course, be available for interviews about the anomaly and their rescue later as the furore of Voyager's return died down.

After Gardiner and the Doctor had departed, Paris and Nechayev had explained the events that lead to Voyager being directed to the Beta quadrant. The fact that there were those with such a great antipathy toward the Maquis that they would risk an entire starship just to prevent positive media coverage was alarming but both Owen and Nechayev seemed confident that the major proponents involved in the scheme had been neutralized. To be on the safe side, however, they wanted to make a media spectacle of Voyager's landing. Neither Janeway nor Chakotay was completely at ease with the idea, though they understood the precaution.

At their present speed, they would reach Earth in just about fourteen hours, which would be mid morning San Francisco time. They would remain in orbit for less than an hour before making their landing once everything was in place. Nechayev had explained that they'd started collecting family members almost as soon as Voyager appeared and that the two week delay had allowed them to retrieve more family members than they had previously hoped. Further details regarding the debarkation process would be transmitted as soon as things were finalized. For now, Janeway was taking a moment to relax in her ready room at the end of what had been a longer shift than she'd anticipated upon waking up.

When the door chime rang, she sighed. It was past the end of shift and she'd been hoping to sign off on the handful or reports the day had generated and then escape to her quarters. Tersely, she called for entry, but smiled when Chakotay entered. He was probably just there to encourage her to leave.

“I thought maybe you'd like to have dinner.”

Janeway grinned at having guessed his mission and gave a tired nod, “I suppose you're right. Lunch seems an awfully long time ago.”

“I think you mean breakfast. You worked through lunch.” As they were talking, they left the ready room and headed past the tactical station on their way to the turbolift.

“So I did.” She paused by Tuvok's usual station, missing his stalwart presence even now that they were in friendly space. “Mr. Ayala, you have the bridge.” His answering nod was cut off a the 'lift doors closed.

“My quarters, fifteen minutes?” Chakotay asked after she called for deck three.

For a moment, Janeway hesitated. It was the second time since they'd returned to Federation space that he'd asked her to dinner and both times he'd invited her to his quarters. Their weekly dinners had always taken place in her quarters, even if they ended up eating little more than coffee and cold sandwiches because she'd managed to ruin another meal. She wondered what it meant that he was suddenly inviting her to his quarters instead but resolved not to think too much on it. “Sounds good.” She gave a decisive nod as the 'lift opened on deck three.

Ten minutes later, she felt refreshed even though little had changed. Since they weren't entirely sure when Voyager would be called to land, she'd opted to remain in uniform, though she'd removed the jacket. She'd also taken the opportunity to clean her teeth, run a quick comb through her hair, and refresh her make-up. She rather that she looked at least somewhat presentable when she appeared in front of the broadcast cameras.

She padded down the corridor to Chakotay's quarters with her boots in her hand. The uniform was still there, but she hoped the displaced boots and jacket was enough to signal that she wanted to be off duty for the moment. It was something she'd done occasionally during their regular dinners, and he'd usually respected the tacit declaration to leave work outside.

The doors sprang open at her approach and she hesitated before stepping through. As the doors hissed shut behind her, Chakotay turned from the replicator with a plate in each hand. “I hope you don't mind that I replicated tonight.”

Janeway shook her head as she looked around. “As long as your replicator behaves better than mine usually does, I think I'll survive.” The lighting was subdued, with water candles in the corners. Two more candles were on the table framing a simple floral arrangement of peace roses with their own dark green leaves. It was undoubtedly romantic and she wondered if he'd ever thought the same thing when entering her quarters for dinner.

“We're having vegetable feijoada. It's a little spicy, but not too bad.”

“I guess you've recovered from Chell's Vindalinear vegetables then?” She quirked a smile as she took her seat.

He winced playfully, “Don't remind me. My taste buds may never be the same.” He grinned as he set down a colourful plate before her and then seated himself across the small table. “This shouldn't be anywhere near as hot. It's a different sort of spice.”

“I'm sure it will be fine.” She allowed him to take the first bite than quickly followed suit. It was an intriguing mix of flavours and she chewed slowly to take them all in. “It's very good. Picante but not to the point that it overwhelms the rest of the flavours.”

Chakotay ducked his head, accepting the compliment without words. Instead, he reached for the decanter in the middle of the table and unstoppered it. “Would you like some cider?”

“Please,” Kathryn held up her glass. As the golden liquid was poured, she frowned, a fragment of memory sparking in her brain. Giving herself a mental shake, her expression cleared before Chakotay could notice. “Antarian cider?”

He flashed a smile as he finished pouring with a flourish, “Nothing but the best for my captain.”

She answered his play-acting with a wan smile, not entirely sure what he'd meant by the little show. For long years, she'd hoped that they might be able to explore a different kind of relationship once they were home and on the surface, the intimate ambiance of his quarters seemed to suggest he was hoping for the same. And yet, according the Admiral, he'd been on a path to marry Seven.

"Something wrong?" Chakotay paused mid-sip and looked quizzically at her.

"Hm? Sorry, just wool gathering." She could feel the heat creeping up her neck and quickly took another bite of the food. "It hasn't exactly been a uneventful week." Though Voyager had managed to escape the anomaly intact with the Shambhala survivors, the ship had suffered significant damage and repairs had been on-going most of the way back to Earth. Janeway had spent a number of shifts crawling through Jeffrey's tubes to replace burnt out power couplings or to calibrate ODN conduits.

"No, I suppose not. We can call it a night if you're too tired?"

She appreciated the offer but shook her head. Arrests might not be forthcoming, but debriefings would be and she was sure that they'd both be kept busy with those for a couple of weeks at the very least. "No, it's fine."

His eyes searched her face, a concerned frown creasing his brow. "If you're sure."

"I am." She managed a genuine smile but he continued to stare at her for long moments. She took a sip of the cider and hummed appreciatively as it slid smoothly over her tongue. The mellow taste caused a flash of memory and she recalled them joking together in her quarters after some disaster or another. She frowned, trying to place the moment.

"Kathryn?" His frown, which had cleared momentarily, was back.

Janeway rolled the stem of the wine glass in her fingers and wondered how to phrase what she wanted to ask. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

He looked momentarily confused and she flicked her eye toward their dinner. "Yes, I suppose so." Chakotay looked slightly uncomfortable at the admission and she wondered what he was thinking.

"Since before you started dating Seven, I'd guess." It was a ham-fisted way of bringing it up, but she wasn't sure how else to broach the topic.

Chakotay choked on the sip of cider he'd just taken and it was several seconds before he was able to speak. "You knew about that?"

The use of the past tense made her frown, but she pushed ahead. "The admiral mentioned it."

He scowled and looked away. "She shouldn't have done that."

"Because you didn't want me to know?"

"Because it wasn't her place. Besides, it's over." Janeway attempted to hide her surprise, but wasn't entirely successful. "I broke up with her a day or so after we came through the transwarp conduit."

"Oh." She took another sip of the cider to stall for time. "I, uh, that is the admiral rather seemed to think it was serious."

Chakotay shrugged, and the tension in his shoulders betrayed how uncomfortable he was with the conversation. "We'd only managed about four dates."

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from mentioning that it had only taken him days to become utterly enamoured with Riley Frasier. And that he'd gone home with Valerie Archer after only two dates. "I'm sorry."

He rolled his eyes and cut her a disbelieving look. "Really, Kathryn?"

"Yes, really. If our precipitous return interfered with something that had the potential to be a fulfilling relationship for you, then of course I'm sorry. You've had your life on hold for almost seven years. It's hardly fair that you should lose the opportunity to move forward with it simply because of a change of address." She crossed her arm over her chest and sat back in the chair watching him.

He ducked his head and his shoulders shook but in the dim light, she wasn't sure if he was trembling with anger or mourning the end of his affair with Seven. Suddenly, he shook his head and looked up with . . . a smile? Janeway frowned in confusion. "Kathryn, I'd hardly consider my life to have been on hold. And I'd rather focus on the opportunities that were opened by that 'change of address'." He was looking at her intently and she felt her heart pulse rapidly in her chest.

She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “Opportunities?”

“While there may have been some options that were only available in the Delta quadrant, such as defending the ship from Krenim or facing down the Think Tank, I'd say that they pale beside the opportunities opened up by being back in the Alpha and Beta quadrants.” His eyes flicked over her in a virtual caress.

Her skin puckered into goose-flesh and Janeway suddenly wished she'd taken the time to fully change out of her uniform. It had been a long time since Chakotay had looked at her that way and she was surprised to find herself as affected as she was. She struggled to tamp down her reaction, however, wanting to keep a clear head. “You,” her voice came out as a croak and she took another sip of the cider. “You're still interested?”

“Interested!” He gave a loud guffaw, “Kathryn, I'm more than interested. You can't tell me you didn't notice!?” Chakotay's expression was bemused and a little puzzled.

Janeway ducked her head slightly, not quite a nod. “It's been a while.” She closed her eyes, and subconsciously sat up straighter. When she looked at him again, her expression was composed but calm. “I love you, Chakotay. I have for at least five years, even when I thought I shouldn't.”

He fumbled to clasp her hand where it lay beside her plate. “I love you, too, Kathryn. I'm in love with you, and have been for a long time.” He smiled, not one of his flashy grins that revealed his dimples, but a slow, genuine smile that was at once both tender and sultry. “And now that we're home, we can finally do something about it.”

She squeezed his fingers, then reluctantly withdrew her hand. “You have no idea just how tempting that sounds.”

His fingers curled back into a fist and his smile fell away. “But?”

“But,” and she attempted to gentle her words with a smile that conveyed how very much she wished they could pursue what they both wanted at that very instant. “My duties are not quite done here, Chakotay. I want to see the crew fully home, then I'll truly be free.”

“How long?” His shoulders slumped.

“Not long, two days. Admiral Patterson will take command of Voyager then, and she'll be headed to Utopia Planetia for a complete refit while her unique systems are examined and catalogued by the Starfleet Corps of Engineers.”

“Two days?” Doubt and hope conflicted in his dark eyes, and she had to admit that he had good reason for his uncertainty.

“Two days,” she said firmly. Janeway let her eyes convey the promise as she rested her hand over his fist. “Two days.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Twenty-three

The weather was perfect as Voyager landed in San Francisco. The sky was an almost unreal shade of blue, studded with just a few fluffy clouds. The sun was warm but not overly so, with temperatures hovering just around twenty-four degrees. A gentle breeze wafted in from the Pacific Ocean, stirring the hems of skirts and teasing the hair of the many spectators that were on hand to witness Voyager's formal homecoming.

On board Voyager, Janeway had recalled Tom and B'Elanna to temporary duty so they could take their places on the bridge as the ship made it's final descent. Miral was present in a sling specially designed by the Doctor. Naomi had joined her mother at the science station while Seven lurked by Harry at Ops. Ayala had stepped in as temporary security chief and his grin at Tactical was quite a change from Tuvok's stoic presence. Chakotay exuded his typical calm confidence and the ghost of Neelix and Kes seemed to flit on the edges of her vision

She looked around at the dear and familiar faces of her crew as the viewscreen documented the transition from starscape to terrestrial sky. It wasn't the first time in the journey that she'd seen the sight, but this time it was Earth's sky and as the thermal flares faded into cerulean blue, she felt tears gathering in her eyes. She closed them for just a moment, locking the image into her memory. As she did, she felt warm, strong fingers cover and then clasp her own. Grateful for his quiet support, she allowed herself to give his fingers a gentle squeeze.

The ship sped eastward over the Pacific and slowly the hazy shoreline of San Francisco came into view. At first it was just a blur on the horizon but soon enough it solidified into rocky headlands and green hills. The gap that was the Golden Gate and its landmark bridge took shape, along with the various buildings that comprised Starfleet Headquarters and the Academy. Paris guided the nimble ship right between the reddish spires, then banked back around Alcatraz as he took her in to land on the Parade grounds.

As they came in, the ground seemed oddly colourful until Janeway realized it wasn't the ground but an enormous crowd gathered at the Academy. She'd known that Voyager's accidental exile in the Delta quadrant had been publicized but until now she hadn't considered what that might mean. She vaguely remembered Harry telling her that the lost ship was a favourite topic of his mother's students, but somehow she hadn't made the connection until now and she gasped, her fingers tightening on Chakotay's.

She chanced a glance at him and was gratified to find an expression of bemusement on his face as well. “Harry,” she breathed, “How many people are down there?”

His attention abruptly drawn back to his instruments, Harry stuttered for a moment before producing the requested information. “At least fifteen thousand, Captain.” The pronouncement was met with similar surprise from the rest of the bridge.

In the momentary silence, Naomi tugged her mother's uniform as asked, “Mom? How will we find Daddy in all those people?”

The child's question broke some of the tension on the bridge and there were a few nervous chuckles as they realized exactly how valid the query might be.

“Open a channel, Harry.” While she wasn't mindless of the compliment inferred by the crowd, she had no wish to walk down the cargo ramp into a sea of strangers and she certainly wasn't comfortable with the same being asked of Samantha and Naomi or B'Elanna and Miral.

Even as she felt the faint tremor of the ship settling to Earth, the view screen lit up with a view of Alynna Nechayev, her head framed by the bulk of Voyager behind her.

“Welcome home, Captain.”

Janeway smiled a trifle weakly. “Thank you, Admiral. I'm afraid my crew is a little apprehensive about debarking into such a throng.”

Nechayev had the good grace to look contrite. “Yes, I'm afraid we rather underestimated how many people would want to see Voyager touch down. The public transporters are quite overwhelmed. Fortunately, we've manage to cordon off the parade grounds and a pathway into Archer Auditorium. Most of the families are waiting in there where they'll have privacy for their reunions. You ops officer should have the coordinates if anyone wants to beam there directly. Security will ensure that anyone who walks the pathway will not be importuned by the gawkers. I think some of them just want to claim they saw a member of Voyager's crew up close. You're something of celebrities.”

“I'm beginning to realize that.” Janeway frowned. “You said 'most of the families'?”

“Yes, as I mentioned before, the news organizations would be satisfied with footage of the ship landing. Your mother and sister, along with Ensign Kim's parents and a few others have consented to having their reunions broadcast. They are in a temporary pavilion just behind me.” The view shifted slightly as Nechayev stepped out of the way to reveal a simple white tent structure with open sides. Janeway's breath caught as she recognized her mother and sister talking near the front of the group. “The full list of family and crew was included with the transport coordinates.”

Janeway had known that her mother would agree but was surprised that her sister, who had never appreciated the intrusion of Starfleet into their family events, had also gone along with it. “Thank you. We'll begin disembarking shortly.”

“You're welcome. As I said, your crew are welcome to transport directly into the auditorium but if you can convince some of them to walk the pathway, that would be appreciated.”

“Understood. Voyager out.” Nechayev vanished, only to be replaced with a view of the mob scene. “Harry?” Immediately, the viewscreen switched to the Starfleet communication emblem.

Janeway took a slow, deep breath, feeling almost as daunted by their homecoming as she had been facing a number of Delta quadrant bullies. She could hear the nervous shifting of the bridge crew. “Harry, send a comm message to everyone on the list for public reunions, and direct them to report to cargo bay two in ten minutes.” She was tempted to ask just who would be joining her but since it would become obvious soon enough, she decided to skip it. “Open a channel to the whole ship.”

“Channel open.”

“I'm sure everyone is aware that we have landed on the parade grounds at Starfleet Academy. Before we begin to disembark, I want to thank all of you for your service and let you know how very much I appreciated your support on this unprecedented journey. If you haven't been patched in to the main viewscreen, I want everyone to know that our arrival has attracted rather a lot of attention. Unless you have received an independent communications from Ops, your family and/or friends will be waiting for you in Archer Auditorium. A path has been cleared to the auditorium from our location but we have been given the option of beaming you directly there if you do not feel able to make the walk for any reason. I understand that the crowd outside may be daunting, but I would encourage everyone to think carefully before heading for the nearest transporter room. There are a lot of people out there that want to welcome us home.

“That being said, I can certainly appreciate it if you do not feel comfortable with disembarking from the cargo bay. I, along with a few others have volunteered to be the public face of our return. I trust that I will be seeing all of you at Voyager's decommissioning in two days, but in the mean time I wish you all fair winds and following seas.” As she concluded her remarks, she felt tears pricking her eyes and dropped her head until she could master her emotions. She sensed a motion on her left and Chakotay's hand settled warmly on her shoulder.

After a moment she straightened and Chakotay's hand dropped away, leaving her feeling slightly chilled. She glanced around the bridge with a gentle smile. It was almost unbelievable that they were finally home. Yet as much as she was looking forward to seeing her mother and sister again, she was dreading the departure of her crew. Over that past seven years they truly had become family to her and although she had always held herself a little apart, she would miss them all dearly, not the least of which would be her senior staff.

“You're dismissed. I'd suggest that you take any small items you might have immediate need of with you. I'm not sure exactly when we'll be permitted to return and pack up our larger belongings.” She favoured them all with a gentle smile while inside she girded herself for their departure.

Ensign Macormak, who had been manning the rear science station during the blue alert, was the first to depart, followed by crewman Jackson. As the 'lift doors slid shut behind them, a sob sounded in the stillness of the bridge and Naomi flung herself into her mother's arms. Awkwardly, Samantha stood and ushered the distraught girl toward the command deck. “Thank you, Captain, Commander. I'm so glad I had the pleasure of serving with the both of you.”

Naomi sniffled, but then turned to face the pair. “Goodbye, Captain Janeway. Goodbye, Commander Chakotay.” She looked anxiously at her mother. “We'll see them again, right? I mean even after they decommission Voyager?”

“Of course you'll see us again, Naomi. Just because we won't be on the ship doesn't mean I won't need an assistant from time to time.” Janeway smiled and held out a hand, but Naomi bypassed it in favour of an impulsive hug.

“And I'll be checking up on you to make sure you don't give any of your new teachers the trouble you gave me,” Chakotay added with a smile. He was rewarded with his own hug before Samantha stepped forward to detach her.

“Come on, Naomi. We don't want to keep your father waiting.” Hand in hand, the Wildman's left the bridge, with Naomi waving vigorously as the 'lift slid shut.

“Captain, Commander, I . . .” Seven halted uncertainly. “I do not feel comfortable walking through such a crowd of people. With your permission, I will report to transporter room one.”

“Of course, Seven. I'm sure your aunt is very eager to see you.” Janeway gave Seven a warm smile. Over the past four years, Seven had come a long way from the stiff drone she'd been when they'd first met. Although the former Borg was understandably nervous, Janeway nevertheless felt certain that Seven would adapt quickly and successfully to life on Earth, provided she had able supervision while she adjusted.

“Thank you, Captain. I admit that I am . . . eager to make her acquaintance in person.”

“Good luck, Seven.”

“Thank you, Commander. I wish you luck as well.” Seven turned back to the captain, “My regen . . .”

“Starfleet will disconnect one of the chambers from the cargo bay and deliver it wherever you want by the end of the day.”

Seven nodded, seemed to be on the verge of saying something else but then simply nodded again. As she turned to go, Ayala stepped out from behind the tactical station.

“Actually, Captain, I hope you don't mind, but I'd like to beam over to. Been an awful long time since I've been around that many strangers.” He looked from her to Chakotay and she wondered if perhaps he felt a little guilty for not walking with Chakotay. They both nodded.

“Of course, Lieutenant.”

“It's fine, Mike.”

After Seven and Ayala had left, Janeway glanced around. The only ones left were Harry, Tom, B'Elanna, and Miral. “Are you all okay with the public reunions? If you think it might be a problem for Miral, I'm sure we can send you directly to the auditorium.”

“I think she'll be fine, Captain. Besides, it'll be her first sight of sunshine.” Tom leaned over his wife's shoulder to wiggle his fingers in his daughter's face. “Isn't that right, Miral? You want to see this sun that we've been talking about, don't you?”

B'Elanna gave a long-suffering sigh but then smiled. “I have to agree with Tom. I think it's important for Miral to see real sunlight.”

Janeway nodded. Samantha Wildman had been much the same way and had insisted on being able to take little Naomi on the first available away mission. Janeway had been eternally thankful that the insect that had infected both her and Chakotay had not managed to bite the infant. “Of course. Shall we?” The trio of younger officers started moving toward the 'lift when she realized that Chakotay hadn't moved.

“Chakotay?”

He looked up with a thin smile that made her frown but before she could question him further, his hand was on her back, urging her into the turbolift with Harry, Tom, B'Elanna, and Miral. As they stepped out on to deck three together, she took his arm as she had often in earlier years. He was unsettled about something and she wanted to clear it up before they disembarked.

“Come in with me? I'll only be a moment.” She didn't wait for a reply as she keyed in her entry code and pulled him into her quarters. As soon as the doors slid shut, she turned to face him. “Alright, out with it.”

He didn't bother trying to dissemble. “Sekaya hasn't arrived yet.” He shrugged and tried to give her a reassuring smile. “I'll be fine.”

“Oh, Chakotay,” she looked up at him with sympathetic eyes. “I'm sorry your sister won't be there. I know you're eager to see her.” She patted his chest. “But I won't let you be alone; I'll introduce you to my mother and sister. I've mentioned you I don't know how many time in my letters and my mother suggested that I bring you with me the next time my number came up for Pathfinder. She'll be thrilled.” She was pleased to see that some of the anxiety had left his dark eyes and she slid her hand up from his chest to his shoulder and pulled him into a gentle embrace.

She held him until she was sure that some of the tension had leached from his frame, then stepped reluctantly back. “I'll just grab my essentials and then we can go get yours. Oh, and pick up the Doctor. He'll be meeting Lieutenant Barclay. They tried to get Zimmerman to come in but no dice.” Giving him a quick smile, she darted into her sleeping quarters and returned a moment later with a small toiletries kit. She was pleased to see that he was looking at with amused surprise. He'd stopped wallowing for the moment.

“Shall we?” He offered his arm again and gestured to the doors.”

“Let's.”

Five minutes later, they entered the cargo bay with the doctor in tow. The EMH had put up a slight protest but she'd informed him that he was as much a member of the crew as anyone else. She'd also pointed out that it would give the public a good view of him as an individual, something that she suspected could only help when his case went to trial.

She was pleased to see that the cargo bay was near capacity. From what she could tell, only a few people had taken the transporter option. She smiled around at her crew, hoping they could all see how very proud of them she was. There was a touch of melancholy there, too, but she carefully suppressed it. This was a happy occasion and she didn't want her conflicted feelings to dim anyone's excitement. She tapped her comm badge and verified that everything was ready, then gave a nod to two engineers standing up in the control booth. There was a shiver through the deck and soft thunks as the exterior doors recessed into the hull and the gangway extended.

“Welcome home, everyone!” she shouted. A cheer went up as the crew started streaming down the ramp. She hung back with her senior staff until the rest of the crew had descended. The last of them, Ensign Deborah Lang, turned at the bottom of the ramp and gave her a jaunty salute before hurrying to catch up with her friends.

Janeway looked up and down the line of the familiar faces flanking her. She cast one last wistful glance backward at the ship, knowing that the next time she boarded Voyager, it would no longer be her ship. Sensing her reluctance, Chakotay slipped his hand into hers. With that reminder of the promises that lay ahead, she gave him a fond smile that quickly grew in a grin. Clasping his hand, she lead the way down the ramp and into the golden sunlight of Earth as the cheers of the crowd swelled to deafening levels. Voyager was home.

FIN