chapter 1

 

 

She had been here so often. This time, gazing up at her wife, she felt almost like a supplicant; a worshipper at the altar. Certainly Lynne looked the part of a goddess—in her dress uniform, her head crowned with the green glow of a Borg power readout, she had a regal and otherworldly air.

Kathryn Janeway still couldn’t believe the miracle of her wife’s return. But there she was, standing erect in the regeneration posture, her face smooth and unlined. There were no signs of her recent death, unless one looked beneath her uniform to the new scars on her chest.

Stepping up onto the dais, Kathryn slowly approached her, not stopping until she was inside the alcove. She slipped her arms around the still body and stood up on tiptoe to deliver a kiss.

It was a different sort of kiss than she’d ever experienced before. Her lips tingled with an electric shock, and when she pulled away in surprise, Lynne’s eyes were wide open.

“Warning. Regeneration cycle incomplete.”

Kathryn took a step back. “Lynne?”

But Lynne stared straight ahead, her green eyes unseeing, and Kathryn gasped as a crimson stain blossomed on the white dress jacket. The fabric curled outward, smoking at the edges, revealing a gaping chest wound from which the blood poured in a steady stream.

“No...”

It was happening again. Lynne was dying, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Desperately she tried to staunch the bloodflow with her hands, but it slipped between her fingers, warm and brilliant red. It stained her hands and splashed onto the deck, spattering her boots, and with every second more of Lynne’s life drained away.

If only Lynne would look at her. If only she would make that connection, just one more time. They had so little time.

“Please,” she whispered, looking from her bloody hands to the face she loved so well. “Please don’t leave me. Not again.”

But there was no recognition. Lynne’s expression was blank, her eyes glassy. The blood poured and Kathryn could only stand there, helpless in her terror, knowing that she could not survive a life alone.

“No!”

She came awake, her heart racing and her breath coming in gasping half-sobs as she fought off her panic. “It’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true,” she whispered to herself, instinctively using her voice to speed her waking. The last wisps of the dream slipped into the night, her mind cleared, and she rolled over with a deep sigh.

“Fuck,” she mumbled into the sheets. Her body felt heavy.

What an awful dream. And the worst part of it was that it wasn’t really a dream. She’d lived that. She’d seen that glassy look in Lynne’s eyes; felt the hot blood flow over her hands.

She’s not dead, she reminded herself. She’s in the regeneration alcove right now, alive and healthy and strong. She was here not three hours ago. Focusing on her recent memories helped, but the sweat was cooling on her body and she was suddenly uncomfortably cold. Throwing aside the covers, she padded into the bathroom, turned the shower to the hottest temperature she could stand, and stepped inside.

Fifteen minutes later she was in uniform and ready for the day. She pulled a cup of coffee from her replicator and left her quarters, taking sips as she walked a very familiar path to deck eight. It was late gamma shift, and there were even fewer personnel in the corridors than normal—none of whom were her own crew. The party was still in full swing on the Enterprise, while a skeleton staff from the flagship covered Voyager’s critical stations. She was certain that some of her crew were going to be worse for wear later today.

God knows they deserve it, she thought. That and more.

She was proud of her crew, and absolutely convinced that they were the best in the Federation. They’d come through seven years of isolation and danger with their ideals intact and their databanks full. A lesser crew would not have survived at all, much less maintained their Starfleet principles. The specter of the Equinox stood as a stark reminder of what they might have become had they not stood firm in their beliefs.

Mom was right. She smiled at the memory of her mother’s words, spoken during their first long conversation after Gretchen had unexpectedly appeared on board. We did good.

Her path led her to Cargo Bay Two, where a specially built alcove sealed off the Borg regeneration units from prying eyes. Lynne was there, peacefully regenerating alongside Revi and Seven. It was unusual to have all three women in their alcoves at the same time, but Revi and Seven had thought it wise to “top off” their energy reserves, as Revi put it. Lynne, of course, was under medical orders to regenerate for most of the day, and was scheduled to complete her cycle right before their arrival at the Sol system.

She stood below Lynne’s alcove, looking up at her as she had so many times before. The sense of déjà vu struck so strongly that, for just a tiny moment, the terror returned. She shook it off, reminding herself that Lynne was in her standard uniform, not the dress whites of her dream. But the tendrils of fear still curled around her spine, clinging tenaciously, shaking her confidence. In a deliberate challenge, she stepped up onto the dais, encircled Lynne’s body with her arms, and kissed her.

No tingle. No response at all; just the hum of the alcoves.

Despite herself, she felt a sense of relief. Stupid, really. But she didn’t care.

She turned to Lynne’s alcove readout and further reassured herself when she saw the perfectly normal heart rate. Forty-two beats per minute, well below what had been normal before her assimilation. That, too, had been hard for Lynne to accept—that the very beat of her heart was being regulated by a Borg implant. But it was that same implant that had kept her heart functioning long after she should have been dead.

“Regeneration cycle complete.”

She looked up as both Seven and Revi stepped out of their alcoves.

“Kathryn,” said Seven with a nod. “Are you well?”

“I’m okay.”

Revi gave her an appraising look. “You’re up early.”

And damn you for noticing. There wasn’t much she could hide from Revi, who had obviously seen the signs of stress on her face.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said. “It’s a big day.”

Revi stepped over to glance at Lynne’s readout, then wrapped an arm around Kathryn’s waist and gave her a gentle hug. “She’s in perfect health, Kathryn. Just a few more hours and she’ll be ready to kick ass again.”

“I hope so.” Kathryn’s gaze was drawn back to Lynne’s face. “Because, to quote B’Elanna, there are some asses desperately in need of kicking.”

Never would she have thought she’d actually feel a reluctance to go home. For herself, she was resigned to the political obstacle course she’d have to negotiate; was in fact already negotiating. But she had never envisioned their homecoming as a trial for Lynne. Then again, she’d never imagined sabotage or attempted murder, either—but they’d already survived those, and Lynne had been through too much now to be afraid of external dangers. No, her fears were of the internal variety: she was dreading the responsibility and the expectations of running the largest foundation in the entire Federation. Her parents had left her a very, very large role to fill, and Kathryn knew that Lynne would move stars and planets rather than feel that she had disappointed them.

“Well, if anyone’s qualified to do the kicking, it would be Lynne.” Revi squeezed her waist again.

“I agree,” said Seven. “If Starfleet awarded rank on the basis of ass-kicking capacity, you would be sharing the bridge with her.”

“I’ve never heard you use that word before.” Kathryn was torn between disbelief and laughter.

“It’s what you feared.” Seven’s face was deadpan. “Revi has corrupted me.”

The laughter won, and she squeezed Revi in her turn. “I had no doubts, my friend! I knew you had it in you.”

Revi playfully pushed her away. “If you think it’s an accomplishment to corrupt Seven, then you should be quite proud of yourself.”

“What? I never—”

“Tell me, Kathryn, does the phrase ‘If his ass were any wider, we’d have to install shuttle bay doors’ sound familiar? I heard that one last night from my innocent partner, and I’m quite certain she didn’t pick it up from me. Or B’Elanna. Or Lynne.”

Kathryn cleared her throat delicately. “Seven—”

“It was Admiral Carveggio,” said Seven. “I had never before seen such an advanced case of obesity in a Human. Normal descriptive terms did not do him justice, so I resorted to one of yours.”

Revi poked Kathryn in the shoulder. “That is your legacy. You took a tabula rasa and sullied it.”

Kathryn poked her back. “Seven is no tabula rasa. Besides which, I think she has influenced you more than the other way around.”

Seven raised an eyebrow. “Do you? Please elaborate.”

Kathryn smiled at the request. She says ‘please’ now, but it’s still Borg phrasing. The thought gave her comfort. In this time of rapid change, Seven’s mannerisms and speech were a welcome source of continuity.

“Well,” she said slowly, knowing that she was going to change the tenor of the conversation, “I really can’t imagine the pre-Seven Revi taking Lieutenant Maris out at the knees the way she did last night. Can you?”

Revi looked at Seven, obviously embarrassed, but Seven shook her head seriously. “No. Though I question how much of that was my influence, and how much was Revi’s normal character reasserting itself.”

“Thank you, darling, but you give yourself too little credit. Kathryn is right. You have influenced me. Tremendously, and always for the better.”

And now it was Seven’s turn to look embarrassed. Kathryn watched in fascination; an embarrassed Seven was not something she could recall seeing before.

“Revi…” she said, not sure whether she could even ask this.

But her friend knew her too well. “You want to know what happened.”

“Only if you can talk about it. But it was…an amazing thing to see.”

“It was an amazing thing to feel,” added Seven.

Revi shrugged. “She pissed me off.” But Kathryn saw the pleased, almost shy look that she shot Seven.

“I think there’s a little more to it than that. When she said that awful thing to you about Steph, I expected almost anything from you except what actually happened. Not that I wasn’t completely delighted to see it. So what changed?”

“She went nova,” said Seven, and Revi smiled.

“Seven loves to compare me to astrophysical phenomena,” she said.

“That is not true.” Seven was never one to allow much in the way of teasing, unless it was accurate. “Though I could begin, if you wish.”

“No, I’m afraid of what you might come up with.”

“Ladies.” Kathryn didn’t bother hiding her smile. “I don’t want to pry, but—”

“But you wish we’d quit joking and explain?” Revi finished for her.

“I love listening to you joke,” said Kathryn seriously. “But I do have limited time.”

“I don’t know if I can explain it, Kathryn. It just…happened.”

Seven wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer with the unconscious assurance of a partner, and Revi snuggled in. As she watched, Kathryn had a sudden vision of the Revi she’d met on Dakmor: cool, reserved, untouchable, with walls half a kilometer thick protecting the raw and wounded soul inside. The Revi before her now, contentedly accepting love and comfort from Seven, truly was a different person. And Kathryn knew that no matter what her friend said, nothing had ‘just happened’ last night. Her transformation had been in process for a long time.

“When she called me a murderer, it hurt,” said Revi. “I mean, it really hurt. It was everything I’ve been dreading about coming home. My life has been so different on Voyager, but I knew that when we got home, things would probably change again. I’ve been waiting for it, and it was almost a relief, in a twisted sort of way, to have it happen. I didn’t have to wait for it anymore. But then she said I should kill myself, and something inside me just switched on.”

“I felt it,” said Seven. “Almost an emotional explosion. Like a reaction that has been gradually building up and then reached critical mass.”

“It was so clear,” said Revi. “All of a sudden I just…got it. I got what you and Seven and Lynne have been trying to tell me: I don’t deserve that kind of hatred. Maris’ judgment of me was based on nothing. She has no knowledge or understanding of who I am or what happened. And then I realized that the people who really do know and understand me don’t judge me. Voyager’s crew knows me. The Terellians knew me. None of them judge me. So why should I care what someone like Maris thinks? And that was it; that was all it took. Maris had no power over me. She couldn’t push me back, because I refuse to go. So…” She shrugged her shoulders, her expression slightly abashed. “I guess I finally figured out that I don’t have anything left to prove to people like her. Took me long enough, didn’t it?”

Kathryn stood still for a moment, trying to get her voice to work around the tightness in her throat. Finally she managed to say, “Seven? Would you mind if I gave your fiancée a hug?”

“Certainly not.” Seven withdrew her arm and took a half-step away, and Kathryn swept Revi into a heartfelt embrace, squeezing so tightly that she heard something creak.

“Oof,” said Revi. “I’m not full Borg, you know.”

Kathryn released her. “Sorry, but I’m just so happy for you! That’s the best thing I’ve heard in…well, in a while. Good for you, Revi! God, this is wonderful!”

Revi ducked her head, then looked up with such a beaming grin that it was all Kathryn could do not to wrap her up again and squeeze the life out of her.

“It’s the best thing I’ve felt in a while,” said Seven. “She burned off the guilt like a star in nova phase burns off its outer shell. She felt…” She paused, then took Revi’s hand in her own with a soft smile. “She feels like a different individual.”

Revi met the smile with one of her own, and Kathryn sensed that she was witnessing an intimate moment.

“You look like one, too,” she said. When Revi gave her a questioning glance, she added, “I’ve never seen you look this relaxed except when you’re regenerating.”

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for that,” said Revi. “But I am still the same person. I can’t ever forget what I’ve done.” She looked back at Seven and squeezed her hand. “But I think…maybe I can forgive.”

Seven nodded at her, that same soft smile on her face. “You’re the only one who can.”

As Kathryn watched their exchange, she felt a strange combination of pride, friendship, and a little wistfulness. When did Seven become so wise in the ways of emotion? Both of her friends had changed so much in the last year. For that matter, everything had changed in the last year. And now…

She glanced at Lynne, standing tall in the black and gold uniform that was already a thing of the past.

Now it was all changing again.

 

 

 

 

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chapter 2

 

 

Alison Necheyev hurried to her kitchen terminal, knowing exactly who was calling even before she saw the name on the screen. Only one person would have the temerity and the lack of manners to call her at 0630, though her aunt would never consider it ill-mannered. Fleet Admiral Alynna Necheyev simply maximized her time, and if others weren’t utilizing their time as efficiently, well, that was their problem.

Fortunately, she’d been up for an hour already, having been unable to sleep any longer. She was just too excited.

“Good morning, Aunt Alynna.”

Her aunt looked out from the screen with a faint hint of amusement in her otherwise stern expression. “Good morning, Alison. Is that plain?”

Alison looked at the orange juice in her hand. “You don’t honestly think I’d be putting vodka in this at six-thirty in the morning, do you? I’m not that Russian. How was the party?”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

“Aunt Alynna! Come on, you know I’ve been pacing the floor here. What are they like? Tell me everything.” This was the first time Alison had been able to speak with her aunt since shortly after Voyager had reappeared on its scheduled launch from the Beta Quadrant. All she’d known up until now was that everything had gone as planned and the alien technology had worked perfectly. However, her aunt hadn’t been able to meet Lynne Hamilton due to an injury the woman had suffered just prior to their launch from Terellia. The Admiral had been vague about that, simply saying she’d be meeting Hamilton at the party on the Enterprise. Alison was dying to hear her aunt’s impressions, both of Hamilton and Janeway.

Admiral Necheyev laughed. “Sometimes I still hear that eight-year-old girl in your voice.”

“Well, I’m especially close to eight years old right now. This is it, Aunt Alynna! They’ll be here tonight! I can’t wait to meet them. But I’ll settle for your impressions in the meantime.” She sipped her juice and regarded her aunt expectantly, knowing the older woman wouldn’t let her dangle for long. In the ten months they’d been working together, she had gotten to know her aunt in a way that would have been unthinkable before. As a child she’d been absolutely terrified of the severe, unsmiling person who occasionally visited her home. Later, when she began spending summer vacations at Aunt Alynna’s house in Russia, the fear had morphed to a great respect and a desire to please. As an adult she’d considered it the height of achievement to receive one of those short nods of approval. But over the past year she’d finally understood that Aunt Alynna was mortal. A powerful, accomplished mortal, to be sure, with low tolerance and high expectations—but a human being nonetheless, with a wonderfully dry sense of humor and a laugh that Alison loved to hear. She heard it a lot more these days, and the laugh had now replaced the short nod on her list of high achievements. She was proud that her aunt had become so relaxed around her. Their relationship was one of the true benefits that had emerged from this otherwise stressful and frightening situation with Voyager.

Now her aunt was smiling openly. “So you want to know what I think, but you’ll be re-evaluating when you meet them yourself? In that case I’m not sure what would be served by my telling you anything at all.”

Alison waved a finger. “Don’t even think of holding out on me. I haven’t had breakfast yet; my irritation threshold is very low.”

“Well, far be it from me to cross you before you’ve eaten breakfast. I suppose I should be grateful you’ve at least had your juice. As I recall, you were that way as a child, too. Your mother used to dread waking you for school.”

“And don’t try to distract me, either.” Though Alison made a mental note to ask her mom if that was true. She was almost certain it wasn’t.

“Single-minded and demanding…another fine Necheyev trait.”

“I learned from the best.”

The Admiral dipped her head, still smiling. Then the smile abruptly vanished. “She’s more than you think, Alison.”

“Who? Hamilton?”

“Yes. Janeway does not rule that roost.”

“You’re kidding.” Alison found this hard to believe. She’d only had one face-to-face conversation with Lynne Hamilton, back when they’d inaugurated the daily MIDAS communications. They’d traded a few recorded communications since then, but in none of those did Alison see anything that would lead her to believe that Hamilton was out of the ordinary other than her displacement in time.

“She stood up to me,” said the Admiral meaningfully.

Alison’s eyebrows rose. “Really? That’s a bit surprising.” She thought about it. “Then again, maybe not. She doesn’t know who and what you are, not really.”

“She knows. She just doesn’t care. I suspect that Lynne Hamilton cares very much about a few things, and very little about everything else. She’s a woman to watch out for, Alison. You’re going to have your hands full. Don’t underestimate her.”

“All right, I’ll keep that in mind.” Privately Alison planned to draw her own conclusions. She just couldn’t reconcile her aunt’s words with what she’d seen of Hamilton before now, and though the admiral was normally an excellent judge of character, she wasn’t infallible. “So what happened to her on Terellia? You said she’d been injured.”

Admiral Necheyev paused. “Bring out the Stolichnaya.”

Alison activated the program that would triple-encrypt their conversation, then gave the coded reply. “I’ve got the Stolichnaya. Do you have the glasses?”

“Yes.” The admiral fixed her with a level stare. “She died.”

Alison knew she couldn’t have heard that right, but her aunt was still talking.

“She and Janeway were abducted by Free Terellia terrorists. Between the two of them, they killed their abductors and freed themselves. But in the fight, Hamilton was shot in the chest with a high-intensity phaser. She died on the planet.”

Alison put her orange juice glass on the counter and crossed her arms. Clearly there was more to the story, and she wasn’t going to say one word until she’d heard all of it.

“Janeway got her back to Voyager, where Doctor Sandovhar reanimated her. Apparently her Borg nanoprobes prevented a full biological death. Two days later she was at the party looking like nothing had ever happened. If I hadn’t read the medical report myself, I would never have believed it.”

From Admiral Necheyev, that was saying something.

“Well,” said Alison slowly, “I suppose that could explain why she stood up to you. After an experience like that, a few admiral’s bars might not seem like much.”

“I don’t believe personalities change overnight, regardless of the impetus. Lynne Hamilton is simply not what you thought. You’ll need to be a little more careful in your handling of her.”

“What about Captain Janeway?”

The Admiral’s lips twitched. “She’s going to require careful handling as well. But that’s my problem. Hamilton is yours.”

“I really hadn’t thought of her as a problem, Aunt Alynna.”

There was that half-smile again. “Perhaps you should.”

After telling Alison a few stories about the party and confirming some of the details for the homecoming celebration, Necheyev ended the transmission, leaving a very thoughtful Alison to finish her orange juice. She looked into the bottom of the glass, then toward her freezer unit. Finally she shook her head, deposited the glass in the recycler and went upstairs to dress.

 

 

 

 

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chapter 3

 

 

By 1430 hours, Kathryn’s impatience was straining the limits of her self control. Why Necheyev was insisting on debriefings on this day of all days, she had no idea. Even Admiral Paris seemed to find it difficult to keep his attention on the proceedings. Necheyev caught him staring out the viewport and set her PADD on the table with a little more force than necessary, making a whap sound that brought his head around.

“Admiral Paris,” said Necheyev without any vocal inflections at all, “I believe we’ve done what we can at this time. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak with Captain Janeway alone.”

Suddenly the room was full of tension, and Kathryn felt her spine straighten. This didn’t sound good. Paris was staring at Necheyev in surprise, but could find no good reason to refuse. “Very well,” he said slowly. “I look forward to seeing you on the bridge for the final journey, Captain.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” She returned his nod and watched him leave. When the doors shut behind him she steeled herself and faced Necheyev once more, finding cool brown eyes watching her as appraisingly as ever.

“We need to discuss your security situation,” Necheyev said bluntly.

It took her a moment to catch up. “You’re referring to Lynne.”

“Ms. Hamilton’s safety is of paramount importance to both Starfleet and the Federation, even if neither entity realizes it yet. We need her to reverse the Hamilton Foundation’s mission, and restore funding to space exploration research and development. The Federation is already feeling the economic effects of the current mission, and it doesn’t have any ability to absorb those effects. Not after the Dominion War. Without your wife, we’re at an economic and tactical disadvantage. But the moment we land on Earth, her safety becomes more difficult to guarantee.”

“I know. So does she. We’ve already prepared Borg bands, not just for her, but also for Seven and Revi because they’ll be with us. If their Borg biosignatures are masked, scanners won’t pick them up.”

The admiral nodded in approval. “You’re assuming that any potential assassin will know that she has Borg implants.”

“I’m assuming everything, Admiral.”

“Good. What are your plans for the next four days, until she proves her identity at the Hamilton Foundation?”

Kathryn didn’t bother to ask how she’d known about that appointment. “I planned to take her home. To Indiana,” she clarified, seeing the frown.

“Don’t you think that’s the first place anyone would look if they were of a mind to harm her?”

Kathryn hesitated. It wasn’t her first choice to discuss things of a personal nature with this hard-edged Admiral, but she had already saved them once. “I do think that’s a possibility, yes,” she said slowly. “But Lynne is…resistant to the idea of some nameless fear altering her plans. She and I have looked forward to going home for a long time. Our plan was to announce a different destination altogether, as a diversion. If I work that in to my speech tonight, it will be all over the press. Whoever is out there will be looking in the wrong place.”

Necheyev gave her a short nod. “Good thinking. Perhaps I can help you take that one step further. I suggest that Starfleet will require both you and Ms. Hamilton to remain at Headquarters. Unless the saboteur is a member of Starfleet with high security clearance, that story will be far more difficult to check and disprove. I can release a statement to the press within the hour. After the reception, we’ll be seen using a Starfleet hovercraft to take you to the secured campus. No one will know that you left again.”

Kathryn could only stare. She had been working on her own for too long; it was a shock to her system to realize that an ally sat across the table from her.

She’s been your ally all through this, she reminded herself. Just at a much greater distance, and without the ability to speak openly.

“Thank you, Admiral,” she said. “We appreciate the assistance.”

“Just keep her safe, Captain. We need her. Unfortunately, since she’s only a contract employee and I have no definitive proof as to who she is and why she might need protection, I can’t offer anything more. If I could I’d ring your mother’s house with security staff.”

“I understand.” And Lynne would hate that. “I’ll do my best. But the truth is, Lynne is better than either of us at taking care of herself.”

“So I’ve noticed.” A smile came and went so quickly that Kathryn wasn’t sure she’d actually seen it. “Let’s not test that any further than necessary, shall we?”

“Agreed.” Kathryn waited, but the Admiral didn’t seem inclined to add anything. Well, perhaps now was a good time to get something off her chest. “Admiral, permission to speak freely?”

“Granted.”

“Before our trade agreement with the Terellians, there was some…doubt as to the outcome of President Gutierrez’ threat of a court-martial. I don’t know how many strings you pulled, and I probably never will. But I have no doubt that if you hadn’t stepped in, things would have turned out far differently. Thank you. Even though you could never say anything openly, I knew you were here helping us. And that made all the difference in the world. Just as it does right now.”

The Admiral eyed her. “You’re a polarizing individual, Captain. People either seem to love you or want you behind a force field. And if you ever defy a direct order of mine, I’ll have you court-martialed so fast you won’t know what day it is.” Her expression softened slightly. “But if I ever ordered you to commit an act that would almost certainly destroy your ship and crew, you can be certain that it would be for the benefit of the Federation, and not a political agenda.”

“I’m sure the President thought his order was for the benefit of the Federation,” said Kathryn delicately.

“I’m sure he did. But the order was not his to give.” Necheyev paused, absently tapping a finger on her PADD. “I take your point about having support here, Captain. You must have felt very isolated, even while you were reabsorbed into the command structure. To that end, and since we’re speaking freely, I would like you to know that you can also trust my niece, Alison. She has been working for your safety since first learning of Ms. Hamilton, and she is the one who alerted me to the possibility of a mousetrap. If not for her, you would almost certainly have fallen victim to it.”

Kathryn nodded. “I suspected she was your connection, but I had no idea that she had been so directly involved. I look forward to thanking her tonight, then. And it will do Lynne a world of good to know who she can trust inside the Foundation.”

“Very well.” Necheyev tilted her PADD and looked at it briefly. “Speaking of Ms. Hamilton, isn’t she due to end her regeneration soon?” At Kathryn’s nod, she added, “I think we’ve covered what we can here. Perhaps you would like to invite her to the bridge for our arrival at the Sol system.”

The unexpected offer surprised Kathryn into a full smile. “I think she’d like that. Thank you.”

Necheyev stood, PADD in hand. “You’re welcome. Dismissed.”

Kathryn wasted no time getting to the door. Just before she stepped into sensor range, the Admiral said, “Captain.”

She pivoted to see Necheyev standing at the viewports, gazing at the star streaks. “Yes, Admiral?”

The neat blond head turned, and Kathryn saw something on the normally impassive face she couldn’t immediately identify.

“Be careful,” said Necheyev. “I know who you can trust. But I don’t know who you can’t.”

Kathryn nodded her acknowledgment and walked out. As she made her way down the corridor, she realized what it was she’d seen on Necheyev’s face.

Concern.

 

 

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Kathryn arrived at the alcove unit just in time to hear the computer announce the completion of the regeneration cycle, and practically bounced up the step to stand in front of the alcove as Lynne opened her eyes.

Lynne’s smile was instant. “Hi, love. Thanks for the kiss. I swear those make my regeneration more efficient.”

“You’re welcome. Do they make anything more efficient when you’re not regenerating?” She watched Lynne’s eyes crinkle and promptly forgot about everything else that had occurred that day. She only existed in the here and now, connecting with the woman she loved more than anything and anyone. Since Lynne’s death, she could not be near her enough to satisfy her almost frantic craving. At one time such a need would have terrified her, but now she simply gave in to it, knowing from experience that fighting it only made things worse.

Lynne wrapped her up in an embrace and kissed her tenderly. “I’m not interested in efficiency when I’m not regenerating.”

“Tuvok will appreciate knowing that, I’m sure.” Kathryn tipped her head back, giving Lynne better access to her throat.

“You don’t need to tell him,” Lynne murmured. She nibbled her way upward, and Kathryn raised her head in time to meet her in a kiss that soon crossed the line from tender to passionate. For a moment she lost herself in the sensations, feeling that ever-present need flaming up into something else entirely. With an effort she pulled back and rested her forehead against Lynne’s.

“God,” she whispered. “I can’t seem to just touch you anymore.”

“I know what you mean.” Lynne brought her hands up, holding Kathryn’s face with infinite care as she kissed her forehead. “It’s like we’re afraid that it could be taken away from us at any second.”

“This is why dogs eat so fast, you know.”

Lynne stopped moving. Then she dropped her hands with a snort and straightened up. “Where did that come from?”

Kathryn realized what she’d said and laughed. “I just lost suave points, didn’t I?”

“Oh, you lost a lot of them. And you’re not making them up any time soon.”

Encouraged by the look of amusement on her face, Kathryn tried to explain. “Mom was telling me about Molly at lunch today. I haven’t really thought about her in a while, but as soon as Mom started talking about her I suddenly realized that I’ll see her tonight, after the party. God, Lynne, I get to see my dog tonight! I never thought I’d see her alive again.”

Lynne squeezed her. “I’m so happy for you. That’s going to be wonderful.”

“It will.” She couldn’t control the smile that threatened to split her face. She’d adored her Irish setter, and the sudden orders that had sent her and Voyager into the Badlands had separated them when Molly had been pregnant with her first litter. She’d barely had time to ask Mark to take care of her. “There’s so much about coming home that’s worrying me,” she continued. “I still haven’t heard anything about the Maquis amnesty, and who knows what Starfleet is going to want me to do next, and you’ve got so much to deal with—but Molly’s still there. Something will be the same.”

“Kathryn.” Lynne’s voice was very gentle. “She’s seven years older. She’s not going to be precisely the same as when you left her.”

Kathryn waved that away. “Mom says she’s got a white muzzle and arthritis, but—it’s Molly. Dogs don’t change the way people do.”

“Ah.” Lynne nodded. “No, they don’t. And I’ll bet she hasn’t forgotten you, either. She probably also hasn’t forgotten that you left her with that moron Mark. Don’t be surprised if she bites you.”

Kathryn grinned. “She will not. Besides, Mark gave her back to Mom as soon as Voyager was reported lost. She was only with him for a few days.” She lowered her head and looked up at Lynne through her lashes. “Actually, Molly liked Mark.”

“I thought you said Molly was smart. Ouch! Hey!” Lynne squirmed away from Kathryn’s pinching fingers, but since she was still in her alcove there was nowhere to go. “Come on, stop!” Laughing, she grabbed Kathryn’s wrists and effortlessly immobilized her. “Sheesh. Some people are so sensitive about their pets.”

“Molly is smart.”

“I was talking about Mark.”

With a gasp of feigned outrage, Kathryn put all her strength into the effort to break away, then suddenly surged forward and captured her wife’s lips in a kiss. Lynne let go of her wrists and pulled her into a tight embrace, responding with equal passion. It was several minutes before Kathryn remembered her original errand.

“Sweetheart—” She tried with little success to pull away. “There’s something…I wanted…to ask yomphf.”

Lynne straightened after the final kiss. “Having problems with speech?”

“Yes! God, you’re like a teenager.”

“Look who’s talking, Captain Janeway. The hero of the Federation is hiding in her cargo bay, making out while on duty.”

“Well, at least she has good taste—she’s making out with the richest and most powerful woman in the Federation.”

“Powerful in theory, anyway.” Lynne shook her head. “So what did you want to ask me?”

“Would you like to spend the final hours of our journey on the bridge?”

Lynne’s eyes lit up. “You mean it? Wait—won’t it be a bit crowded up there? What’s Admiral Necheyev going to think when you invite your unranked wife to the bridge?”

“She’s going to think I did what she suggested.”

“Really? Cool! You know, she’s not nearly as bad as you led me to believe.”

“She certainly can be. You haven’t spent the last two days in debriefings with her.”

“True. Has it been awful?”

“Considering how much I hate debriefings, yes. But they’ve been much worse than normal because I couldn’t be where I wanted to be.”

Lynne didn’t ask where that might be. “You did what you had to. And it’s not like I was awake to enjoy your company.”

“I know.” Kathryn stepped back and looked her over with a critical eye. “You look perfect. How do you feel?”

“Like I’m ready for anything. Not even any residual soreness.”

“Ready to go home, then?”

“I’m already home.” Lynne smiled. “But yes, I’m ready.” She took a step forward, her movement accompanied by the familiar sound of the alcove disconnecting. Rubbing the small of her back in a motion that had also become familiar, she indicated the door with her other hand. “Shall we?”

Kathryn stood unmoving, simply absorbing the sight of her wife appearing so perfectly healthy and normal.

“What?” asked Lynne.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?”

Lynne’s expression softened. “Not since I had to leave you last night. I love you too, you know. More than anything.”

Kathryn held out her hand, and Lynne took it. They didn’t let go until just before they stepped into the corridor.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 4

 

 

Seven of Nine had never seen so many people on the bridge before. Besides the normal alpha shift bridge crew, she and Revi were sharing the science station, B’Elanna was at the auxiliary engineering station, Lynne was standing next to the captain’s chair, and Admiral Necheyev was in Chakotay’s chair. Chakotay himself was standing on the upper level near the turbolift, along with Gretchen Janeway and Admiral Paris. It was a bit disconcerting.

Focusing on her readouts, she nodded and turned, clasping her hands behind her back. “Captain, we are now within visual range of Xena.”

“On screen,” said Kathryn. “Magnify.”

The screen changed to show a dark, icy, dead planetoid—the outermost planet of the Sol system. The bridge fell silent as Voyager’s crew savored their first view of the familiar. Silent, that is, except for a tiny snort.

“Ms. Hamilton, would you care to share the source of your amusement?” Kathryn’s voice was clipped and commanding, but Seven could hear the affection threading through it.

“Sorry,” said Lynne. “I still haven’t gotten over the fact that there’s a tenth planet, and you named it after a television character. Not that it wasn’t a great show,” she added hastily. “Actually, I loved it. But I spent my whole life thinking there were nine planets, all named after the Roman versions of the Greek gods. And now there’s…Xena. I think it’s fabulous.”

“There is an interesting story regarding the discovery of Xena,” said Seven. Several pairs of eyes turned to her, including Revi’s.

: Really? I didn’t know this one. :

Seven smiled at her before returning her gaze to Lynne. “In January 2000, two astronomers made a wager regarding the discovery of a Kuiper Belt object larger than Pluto by the end of 2004. The prize was three bottles of champagne. In December 2004, the loser bought the champagne and prepared to send it to the winner—but on January 5, 2005, his team discovered Xena. The winner of the bet decided to overlook the five-day discrepancy and instead sent three bottles of champagne to her colleague.”

“Very gracious of her,” said Revi.

“She was probably a fan of the show,” said Lynne. “I bet if the loser had named it something like Apollo she wouldn’t have done it. Actually I’m a little surprised it wasn’t named Apollo, since he was the only major Olympian god left out of the lineup. But they could also have named it Juno or Minerva. I’ve always wondered why Venus was the only Olympian goddess represented in the names of our planets.”

“Probably because the planets were named at a time in our history when women had very little power,” said Gretchen. Kathryn turned in her chair, though Admiral Necheyev kept her eyes firmly ahead. Seven detected a two-degree tilt of the Admiral’s head, however, and knew that she was listening despite her outward appearance.

“Why do you say that?” asked Kathryn. “If they were named when women had little power, the question should be why there’s a feminine planet at all.”

“No, she’s right,” said Lynne. “Because Venus was the goddess of love.”

“And therefore no threat to masculine power,” Gretchen added. “But Minerva was the goddess of wisdom and a fierce warrior woman. And Juno was the goddess of marriage and Jupiter’s wife, but she was powerful in her own right and he was afraid of her.”

“Because he couldn’t keep his pants on and it pissed her off,” said Lynne. “And let’s not forget Diana, goddess of the hunt. Another powerful woman warrior. Gretchen, I didn’t know you knew ancient mythology.”

“I loved those stories when I learned them in school,” said Gretchen. “Tales of powerful gods and goddesses; acts of heroism…it seemed so different from the world I lived in.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t anymore. This bridge is full of heroes.”

Seven watched in fascination as nearly every person on the bridge shifted in their seat and looked embarrassed—including Revi.

: Why is the bridge crew embarrassed by that? : she asked her partner.

: I suppose because most people who carry out heroic acts don’t think of themselves as heroes. :

: So you don’t think of yourself as a hero? :

: I don’t think Gretchen was including me. :

: Certainly she was. She knows what you did at Terellia, to save me. :

: That wasn’t heroism. That was love. :

: What is the difference? :

Revi shook her head, but Seven could feel her exasperated affection.

“The heroes aren’t restricted to this bridge,” Kathryn was saying. “They’re all over this ship, and I think there are a good number in the ships around us as well. I’ve read some remarkable stories about the Dominion War.”

“It’s true that harsh times brings out the best of our people,” said Admiral Necheyev, speaking for the first time. “Necheyev to fleet,” she added in a more commanding voice. “Slow to orbital speed.”

While they’d been discussing Olympian gods, Voyager had reached Xena. Now they dropped out of warp and cruised by the planet.

“That is so cool,” said Lynne. Seven failed to understand what was so remarkable about this completely ordinary class C planetoid, but she could hear the awe in Lynne’s tones.

: It’s not ordinary to her, Seven. She’s never seen her home system before. She was taken off Earth before warp drives existed. :

: I’ve never seen my home system before, either. :

: No, but you’ve seen a hell of a lot more, darling. :

: So has she, in the Collective’s memory. :

: Somehow I don’t think she thinks of it quite that way. :

Kathryn tapped a control on her panel and spoke. “All hands, this is the captain. Welcome to the Kuiper Belt System; we are now passing Xena.”

The bridge fell silent as everyone watched the nondescript planetoid on their viewer. In any other place it would have held little attraction for them, but this was Earth’s backyard, and the import of the moment struck even Seven as she watched not the planetoid, but her crewmates. The identical expressions of reverence on their faces was something she had never before observed. No one moved or spoke until Xena had passed off their viewscreen and the Admiral had ordered the fleet back to warp one point eight.

“Well, it was nice to see a familiar face,” said B’Elanna in an offhand voice. Her comment broke the spell, and nearly every person on the bridge visibly relaxed. Everyone except the Admiral, whose straight back rivaled even Seven’s own posture.

“It certainly was,” said Harry with a broad smile. “Xena looks good.”

“And now we know a little more history about it,” added Chakotay. “I’ll never think of this planet again without remembering two astronomers and their champagne bet.”

“Oh, but Seven left out the rest of it,” said Lynne. “I looked this up way back when I first came to Voyager. Turns out that after Xena was discovered and named, the International Astronomical Union met to decide whether it really qualified as a planet—which meant they had to decide if Pluto qualified as well, since Xena is bigger than Pluto.”

“Clearly they decided it did,” said Kathryn.

“No, actually they didn’t. They dropped both planets from the lineup, renamed Xena after Eris, goddess of discord—typical, eh?—and decided the Sol system had only eight planets. Which messed up a whole lot of textbooks, teaching curriculums, and a few billion adults and children who felt like they’d lost a good friend. Pluto was culturally embedded; it’s not easy to erase a planet. And a huge number of people loved the idea of a planet named Xena.”

“I didn’t know this,” said Necheyev, who by now was watching Lynne along with everyone else. “What happened to reverse their decision?”

“The children. Unlike most of the adults, they wouldn’t take the astronomers’ decision as final. They protested and flooded their governments and the International Astronomical Union with letters. Which brought a few of the more powerful world leaders around to their point of view, and it had a domino effect. Eventually the IAU caved in under pressure, though according to the records it wasn’t too difficult, since the initial vote to demote Pluto had been pretty contentious. That was when the third category of local planets was added, so now we have the Inner System, the Outer System and the Kuiper Belt System. And they reinstated Xena’s name at the same time, when the astronomers who discovered it stood up and demanded it. They said they’d given up the name at the insistence of the IAU, but if the decision on Xena’s planetary status was going to be reversed, then they wanted their old name back, too. So you know this planet as Xena thanks to a whole lot of outraged children from three hundred and seventy-three years ago.”

“Never underestimate the tenacity of children,” said Kathryn. “Are you taking notes, Lieutenants Torres and Paris?”

“Hey, if our child defies the authority of a collection of academics to do what she knows is right, I’ll be behind her all the way,” said B’Elanna.

“I wouldn’t know anything about defying authority,” said Tom, earning a general round of snorts. Admiral Necheyev glanced briefly at Admiral Paris, then returned her gaze to the Lynne.

“Interesting,” she said. “You’re quite a resource, Ms. Hamilton.”

“Of trivia, yes.”

“Of more than that, I think. The next stop will be Jupiter,” she added. “I’m afraid Neptune, Uranus and Saturn are in the wrong part of their orbits for us to do a scenic tour.”

“Sorry you’re missing Saturn, Lynne,” said Harry. “It’s worth a look.”

“I bet. I’d love to see Saturn’s rings close-up. And the Europan Preserve—when I left Earth, the idea of life on Europa was just conjecture.”

“I’ve always been partial to Jupiter,” said Kathryn. “The first planet of the Outer System, the end of the Inner System warp speed limit—for me it was always the boundary between home and the rest of space.”

“You talk about the Inner System like it’s the home neighborhood you rode your bicycle around,” said Lynne.

“In a way, it was. I suspect that’s true for most of us who were trained at Starfleet Academy.” Kathryn looked around the bridge, garnering nods of agreement.

“Well, we Earth-bound ancestors of you young folks thought of Jupiter as an exotic mystery—it took us years just to fly a probe there. We never even saw a clear photograph of any of Jupiter’s moons until the probe sent them back…in nineteen eighty, I think.”

“Nineteen seventy-nine,” said Tom. “I know all about that probe. It had a very worthy name.”

“Care to fill us in?” asked Kathryn.

He turned and smiled at them. “It was the first of the Voyager probes—Voyager One.”

“In my lifetime, no probe ever went as far as that one did,” said Lynne. “It was supposed to last five years, but by the time I left it had already been operating for over twenty. Do you know what happened to it, Tom?”

He nodded. “It sent information back until its thermoelectric generators finally failed in 2026. By then it was over eighteen light hours from Earth and had been in continuous operation for forty-nine years.”

“Beating all the odds,” said Kathryn. “You’re right, Tom—it was well named.”

There was a momentary silence as the crew savored this bit of history.

“Funny to think it took all those years just to get eighteen light hours away,” said B’Elanna. “And less than forty years later, Zefram Cochram made the first warp flight. If he’d been able to sustain his propulsion on that first flight, he could have caught up with the Voyager probe in less than a day.”

“Feels like I left just before all of the interesting things started to happen,” said Lynne. “Now we have ten planets, there’s life on Europa, Jupiter has two Great Red Spots instead of one—sheesh, you go away for a few hundred years and the whole solar system changes.”

“Technically there are not two Great Red Spots,” said Seven, who could never bear inaccuracy. “There is only one. The other is Red Junior.”

Lynne laughed. “I know, I love that name! Poor little storm system. It probably has a complex. You’d think the astrophysicists could have come up with something a little more original. They should have talked to the team that named Xena.”

The fleet dropped out of warp twenty-one minutes later, just outside the Jupiter system. Three of the inner system moons were visible on their viewscreen; the fourth, Callisto, was behind the planet. Jupiter itself dominated the screen, and Seven turned to watch Lynne’s reaction. She was not disappointed; her friend was staring at the viewscreen with wide eyes.

“Holy…” Lynne apparently remembered where she was. “Wow. I never realized you could actually see the storm systems and the cloud bands moving. It’s…gorgeous.”

“It is beautiful, isn’t it?” Kathryn smiled up at her.

Seven looked at the view, trying to see it from their perspective. She saw an unremarkable Class J planet, inhospitable to carbon-based organisms and useless from a technological perspective, unless one were mining for hydrogen or helium. Given that those were the simplest of all elements, they had very limited function for most technologically advanced species.

She supposed the speed at which Jupiter rotated might be of some interest. Though it was eleven times larger in diameter at its equator than Earth, its daylength was the shortest of all the planets in the Sol system at only nine point eight six four hours. This rotational speed was largely responsible for the gaseous movement that so fascinated Lynne; and Seven conceded, after one point four minutes of observation, that the movement did indeed have some aesthetic appeal.

A beep drew her attention to her station. She frowned at the reading, her instincts instantly on alert. Raising her head to warn Kathryn, she found Admiral Necheyev looking right at her. The admiral gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head, and Seven stopped, confused. Plainly the Admiral knew what was out there and did not wish Kathryn to share in the data.

“Helm,” said Necheyev, “alter course to twenty-six mark five eight.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Tom. The view on the screen changed as Voyager turned toward the planet.

“I thought Ms. Hamilton might appreciate a closer view,” Necheyev added, forestalling any questions.

By now Seven had identified the signatures on her board. Had they not been benign, no amount of rank would have kept her from disobeying the Admiral’s silent order. As it was, she simply folded her hands behind her back and watched while Harry Kim made his own discovery. With a broad smile, Harry opened his mouth—then shut it again as Necheyev turned her gaze on him. Flushing, he straightened and kept his eyes on the screen, where Callisto was just now coming into view from behind the planet.

: What does she have up her sleeve? :  Revi was even more curious than Seven.

“Full stop,” ordered Necheyev.

“Is this a scenic stop on the tour?” asked Kathryn.

“No. We’re here to pick up your honor guard.”

“My hon—” Kathryn stopped as she stared at the screen, along with every other person on the bridge. A stream of Peregrine-class attack fighters was pouring out from behind Callisto, in squadrons of six ships. As the first squadron neared Voyager it split in half, three ships pulling straight up and the other three diving down. All six performed a 180-degree rotation in perfect synchrony as they flew above and below the line of fighters in tight formation, rejoining at the end of the line. When the second squadron reached Voyager, the six ships snapped into a vertical orientation and then split, streaking right and left. They remained vertical until they reached the end of the line, when they rolled upright and tucked in behind the first squadron. Each squadron alternated the direction of flight, their movements perfectly timed. The effect, Seven concluded, was quite impressive.

By the time the ninth squadron had peeled away, the first had reached Voyager once again. As the last fighters rejoined the line, the entire force came to a stop and Harry’s board beeped.

“Captain, we’re being hailed,” he said.

“On screen.”

A young woman in a Starfleet cadet uniform looked out at them. “Captain Janeway,” she said crisply, “the senior class of Starfleet Academy pilots welcomes you and your crew home. We will be escorting you for the remainder of your journey to Earth, and will precede you in your final flight to Starfleet Headquarters.”

“I see,” said Kathryn, and Seven knew she was smiling even though she could not see her face. “What’s your name, Cadet?”

“Nadina Lichtman, Squadron Leader, Nova Squadron.”

“Well, Cadet Lichtman, I’m sorry you’ve been stuck with escort duty. I’d imagine you had much better things to do this close to exam time.”

The cadet’s stiff manner evaporated as her eyes widened. “Oh, no ma’am! We couldn’t wait for this! Everyone—” She stopped, consciously straightening again. “I mean, it’s a great honor, ma’am. We’re all proud to be here.”

“And I’m proud to have the entire senior class of pilots escorting us home, Cadet. That was some pretty trick flying you just displayed.”

“Thank you, Captain.” Lichtman tried to maintain her stoic expression, but failed as her face cracked into a large smile. “If you’ll follow us?”

“Lead the way.” Kathryn sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Lieutenant Paris, see if you can keep up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The screen reverted to a view of the fighters in time to show the first squadron peeling off and heading away from Jupiter, followed by all the others in turn. When the ninth squadron had joined up, Tom keyed his board and Voyager leapt in pursuit. “Warp one,” he announced. “Estimated time of arrival at Mars is twenty-three minutes.”

“Tom, you’re looking a bit envious there,” said B’Elanna. “Feeling slow?”

“Not at all.” Tom turned in place and gave his wife an easy smile. “They’re not the only ones who get to show off.”

“Oh, really? Care to share?”

“Nope.” Tom spun his chair around and faced forward again. “You can find out when everyone else does.”

“I’m not saying a word,” said Kathryn before B’Elanna could ask. “You can all keep your shirts on for another half hour. A captain has to have some secrets.”

Necheyev’s stern face broke into a small smile. “So does an admiral. I hope you don’t mind not being in on that particular secret, Captain. I didn’t think you should be the only one who didn’t have some sort of pleasant surprise on this flight.”

“Everyone on this crew knows how much I hate surprises, Admiral. But that was a very nice one.”

“Are you kidding? That was incredible!” said Lynne. “It was like being right in the middle of a Blue Angels or a Snowbird show! Damn, those cadets are good.”

“The North American military flight teams?” Tom spoke while watching his board. “You saw them?”

“Oh yeah. Every chance I got. The Thunderbirds, too—I loved watching any of them. They were just poetry in the air. The best time, though, was when I was climbing a mountain in Waterton Peace Park—that’s in the Canadian Rockies—and saw the Snowbirds go screaming by me at eye level. They were practicing in the area, and I’d had no idea. I sat there and watched them for most of an hour, and it was absolute magic.”

“What a life they had,” said Tom wistfully. “Going from place to place, flying precision maneuvers, signing autographs for the kids who worshipped them…”

“You can sign an autograph for me if it’ll make you feel better,” said Harry.

“Thanks.”

“Why would you wish for a life of such limitations?” asked Seven.

“Yeah, Tom,” said B’Elanna. “Would you really have wanted to spend your days flying something that could never break orbit?”

“Well…not all my days. But what they did then—those pilots were riding the ragged edge of their technology. They were the absolute best in their field.”

Admiral Necheyev was observing this exchange with interest. “With your résumé, Lieutenant Paris, you could apply for a test pilot position with a near certainty of getting it.”

There was a pause while Seven watched B’Elanna’s face go through an extraordinary range of expressions. Tom checked his board and then turned.

“Thank you, Admiral,” he said. “If I were younger that would be a very tempting offer. But I think I’m past that part of my career now.” His gaze moved beyond the Admiral to B’Elanna, and the smile on his face matched hers.

“Good answer, Tom,” said Chakotay from the back. “I think you just saved your hide.”

Tom turned back to his board amid smiles and chuckles, and the crew settled in for the last few minutes of Voyager’s journey.

The bridge chatter slowed as they approached the Inner System, and when they were near enough for Harry to put Earth onscreen, all talk died instantly. Only the occasional chirp of a station broke the reverent silence, and even Seven found herself feeling a little awed. She’d seen this planet so many times in records and logs, but never like this. Never knowing that its motion was real-time, and that she was mere minutes away from landing on its surface.

The stillness was broken by a distinctive voice.

“All hands, this is the captain. If you’ll turn to your nearest display, you’ll see something we’ve all been waiting for. Looks like there’s a storm over northern Australia today.” Kathryn paused, surreptitiously wiping her eye before continuing, “We’ll be coming out of warp in just a few minutes for a flyby of Mars and Utopia Planitia; after that we will resume our course for Earth at full impulse. Please take this time to verify your station’s readiness for atmospheric flight and a landing.”

She sat back in her chair, and Lynne silently rested a hand on her shoulder. They remained that way for the rest of the flight to Mars.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 5

 

 

When Admiral Necheyev ordered the fleet to drop to full impulse, Kathryn thought her heart might pound right out of her chest. Right now, if she were to look out a view port, she’d see Earth with her naked eye. No sensors, no long-range instruments—just her own vision. It might be no more than a tiny blue dot from here, but it was her blue dot.

And there, looming huge on their viewscreen, was Mars—Earth’s backyard. She’d spent childhood vacations here. She’d swum in the Martian quarries from the age of fourteen. Voyager was built here. The travel time from Mars to Earth at full impulse wasn’t much more than the time it took to fly a hovercraft from her mother’s house to the Bloomington transport station.

This was it. For seven years she’d dreamed of this moment, and now that it was here she wanted to remember every nanosecond of it.

The warm pressure on her shoulder briefly increased as Lynne squeezed, and Kathryn looked up at her. Lynne’s green eyes were sparkling with excitement, wonder, and what looked suspiciously like tears.

“Part of me never wants it to end,” she whispered.

“I know.” Kathryn understood this too well. She may have devoted her entire existence to getting this ship and crew home, but there were aspects of their life on Voyager that she was loathe to leave behind. The sense of family, the shared purpose—would she ever find this again? Certainly not on a starship. Probably not anywhere.

She covered Lynne’s hand with her own, tangling their fingers together. It was the only means she had right now to communicate her gratitude for Lynne’s presence. Their relationship was her rock; the one thing she knew for certain would carry through to her new life. Life after Voyager...it was a strange concept.

“It’s not the Mars I remember.” Lynne’s voice was hushed with awe.

“A bit drier back then, wasn’t it?”

“Just a bit. When I left Earth, terraforming was a science fiction fantasy. God, look at it now.”

Kathryn had seen images of Mars before terraforming began. It was hard to imagine the planet ever looking that way, with no atmosphere, no water and no vegetation. The red soil still gave the planet its timeless color, but now wispy clouds shielded the surface and great swaths of green stained the red; evidence of vast forests and agricultural fields. Mars Colony itself was a huge city at the base of Olympus Mons, which towered three times as high as Earth’s Mount Everest. Lynne had long ago declared her intention to climb it, and Kathryn knew it was only a matter of time.

“I can’t wait to take you swimming in the quarries,” she said quietly, smiling in anticipation of the expected response.

“And I can’t wait to take you up that mountain.”

Kathryn’s smile turned into a full grin. They’d had this discussion before, but now it meant a lot more than it ever had. Now they were looking at the very things they had once spoken of in wistful fantasies, never knowing if they would see home again. Keeping her voice low, she said, “I don’t know, Lynne. Doesn’t seem like it would be much of a challenge in that gravity. I think diving the quarries is a lot more difficult.” She chuckled. “Don’t give me that look until you’ve tried it.”

“Swimming is never harder than climbing. Everyone and their dog can swim. Not everyone can climb.”

“Not everyone can swim these quarries. The currents are nasty.”

“Oh yeah, you probably have to breathe hard for a few minutes. My god, how do you do it?”

“I’ve climbed Olympus Mons,” said Admiral Necheyev, her eyes still on the viewscreen.

“You have?” Kathryn and Lynne asked simultaneously. Necheyev’s lips quirked into a small smile as she glanced over.

“Don’t look so surprised, Captain. I do recreate occasionally. And Ms. Hamilton, I can tell you that you’re in for a hell of a time. What you gain in lack of gravity you lose in sheer drudgery, because it takes so long to get to the top.”

“See?” Lynne elbowed Kathryn, then looked over at the Admiral. “What’s it like?”

“It’s worth the drudgery.”

Kathryn watched a huge grin spread over Lynne’s face. “Well, I guess I know what I’ll be doing during my leave,” she said.

“Oh, we can swim too,” said Lynne generously. “After we climb.”

“Good thing I don’t need any rest, then. I’m getting the feeling that the last seven years will be a walk in the park compared to keeping up with you.”

Lynne’s eyes softened, but before she could answer, Admiral Necheyev ordered the fleet to half impulse. All eyes were on the screen as they covered the last few hundred thousand kilometers, slowing to quarter impulse and finally to orbital speed as they arrived at Utopia Planitia. The shipyard, a bustling hive of tiny shuttles, pods and thruster platforms when Kathryn had last seen it, was strangely deserted. Three gorgeous new ships crouched in their docks, in varying stages of completion, but the activity that normally went on around them was nowhere to be seen.

Harry magnified the view, having pinpointed the main observation lounge of the shipyard, and it became immediately obvious where the normal working population had gone. Through the enormous viewports, Kathryn could see that the lounge was wall-to-wall people. They were applauding and thrusting fists into the air, their mouths open in soundless shouts, and every one of them wore an expression of joy and pride. Some were even crying as they cheered. It felt a little odd to witness this silent euphoria and know that it was directed at her and her crew.

“Captain, we’re being hailed by the shipyard,” said Harry.

“Put it on.” Kathryn steeled herself.

The view changed, showing the crowd from a point inside the lounge itself, and the bridge was suddenly filled with a deafening roar of applause, shouts, and whistles. The noise continued for over two minutes while Voyager slowly drew even with the observation lounge, then matched its speed. An older woman wearing admiral’s bars stepped onto the podium to the side of the viewports, holding up her arms, and gradually the cacophony died down.

Turning to face the screen, the admiral said, “Captain Janeway, I’m Admiral Ngomo, commander of Utopia Planitia. It is my very great pleasure to welcome you and your crew home at last.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” said Kathryn, but she wasn’t sure anyone heard her over the applause that had erupted the moment the admiral finished her sentence.

Smiling, Admiral Ngomo let the clapping continue for awhile before raising a hand to quiet the crowd. “As you can see,” she said, “we’re all a bit excited over here. It’s been a long time coming, Captain. Is there anything you’d like to say to these folks?”

Kathryn looked at the crowd, reveling in the sight of so many different species and such a range of ages and gender. This was what she loved about the Federation.

“Yes, I would,” she answered. “Tell me, how many of you were here when Voyager was built?”

Another cheer rose up as nearly a third of the crowd raised their hands.

“You built a damn fine ship,” she told them, and had to grin at the huge burst of stomping, whistling, and shouting. When it died down she continued, “Voyager was never designed for deep space exploration, but that didn’t matter. You all did such a fantastic job on her that she brought us home anyway. Over seventy thousand light years, through too many battles to count, even through the Borg’s home territory, this ship pulled us through.  If you’re building those three ships out there with the same standards of quality and professionalism—and I know that you are—then the crews who will fly them, live on them, and depend on them for their safety have nothing to worry about.”

She paused as another roar prevented further speech, and saw Admiral Ngomo discreetly giving her a thumbs up.

“By the way,” she said when she could be heard again, “I had Voyager cleaned and polished at the last space station we stopped at. How does she look?”

This time it was a good fifteen seconds before the noise died down, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“I think so, too,” she said. “I think she’s going to make one hell of an impression landing on the front lawn of Starfleet Headquarters.”

More applause, but she spoke through it. “The best part, though, will be when she takes off again. I don’t know who will command her, or who her crew will be, but I know one thing for sure: Voyager is ready to go anywhere.” Over the cheers, she added, “As for us—we’re very, very glad to be home. Thank you for giving us such a warm welcome.”

“It’s our pleasure, believe me,” said Admiral Ngomo when she could be heard. “We’re all feeling pretty fortunate to be the first ones to see you arrive. Enjoy the party at Earth, Captain. I hear it’s going to be a big one.”

“Thank you, Admiral. I hear there’s going to be a bit of a bash up here, too.” Starfleet had given all non-essential staff a holiday in observance of Voyager’s arrival, and there were parties scheduled all over the Federation. “Try not to keep them all up too late,” she added.

This was greeted by catcalls and more cheering; plainly the staff of Utopia Planitia were counting on a late night. Kathryn laughed again and bade the crowd goodbye. When Harry cut the transmission, the sudden silence was deafening.

“Well, Admiral?” She turned to Necheyev. “Shall we finish this?”

Necheyev studied her for a beat longer than necessary before nodding. “Yes. The fleet is yours to command, Captain.”

“Thank you,” said Kathryn, keeping her surprise off her face. She’d just been given a provisional promotion to fleet admiral, and even though it might only last a quarter of an hour, it was still a tremendous honor. “Lieutenant Kim, open the fleet channel.” At his nod, she said, “Captain Janeway to escort fleet. Set course for Earth, full impulse.” She paused. “Engage.”

The cadet squadrons responded instantly, with Voyager and the fleet following. Kathryn almost wished she could have been on the observation lounge at Utopia Planitia to see the spectacle—fifty-four Peregrine-class fighters leading a fleet of forty-six of Starfleet’s finest ships, including the flagship and Voyager, must have been one hell of a sight.

It was a trip of just sixteen minutes to Earth, and every bit of it was as familiar to her as the fields around her childhood home. She’d flown impulse shuttles over this distance as a cadet and a young officer; later she’d flown faster ships, and later still she’d given up her own piloting for the executive officer’s and then the captain’s chair of even larger and faster ships. The route varied depending on the positions of Earth and Mars in their respective orbits, but the stars beyond the system were always the same. These were her stars, and this was her space.

And now…there it was. Earth, on the viewscreen with no magnification at all. Kathryn was so enthralled at the sight that she nearly forgot to order the fleet down to orbital speed. They flew one circuit around the globe, in the opposite direction to planetary rotation, and Kathryn drank in the sight. There were Australia and Indonesia, basking in the morning sunshine. Dawn had not yet reached Europe, and she could easily pinpoint the major cities by their lights. By contrast, Africa was a dark mass outlined in light from its far more populous coastal cities.

Feeling Lynne’s hand on her shoulder once again, she looked up to see an expression of total wonder on her wife’s face.

“My god,” whispered Lynne. “It’s so beautiful.”

Kathryn covered the hand with her own. No words existed to express just how lovely it was, so she didn’t try. She just held on, a quiver in her stomach as she watched South America approach. Like Africa, South America was outlined in light, though the bands of light on its coastlines were much thicker. And there was North America, shining brightly throughout much of its interior. Her home was shrouded in darkness; the sun had just recently set over Indiana. But the west coast was still enjoying the last few minutes of daylight, and it was here that the fleet separated. While the fighter squadrons and Voyager moved ahead to finish their circuit, the remainder of the fleet broke off to establish a geosynchronous orbit over San Francisco. The captains and senior staff of those ships would beam down for the reception.

Voyager, meanwhile, soared over the Pacific Ocean, passing over Hawaii and an enormous breadth of bright blue water that shone in the midday sun. When Australia appeared again, Kathryn ordered the squadrons to geosynchronous orbit and instructed them to prepare for atmospheric flight. Next she opened the all hail.

“All hands, this is the captain. We will begin our final approach in approximately five minutes. Secure all stations and prepare for a possibly turbulent atmospheric entry.” Looking at Lynne, she said quietly, “This could get bumpy, sweetheart.”

Lynne raised an eyebrow. “It shouldn’t. You’re plotting something.”

Kathryn just smiled at her, then turned to address her mother, Chakotay and Admiral Paris. “I’d advise you to take a firm hold of the handrail. Standard procedure dictates that all members of a starship crew be stable and secure during a landing, and you’re not. Neither are you,” she added in an undertone to Lynne, while watching Gretchen and the others step forward to the rail.

“Got it.” Lynne turned and walked up the ramp, standing next to Gretchen.

When five minutes had passed and all departments had checked in, Harry opened the channel to the fleet for the last time.

“Captain Janeway to cadet squadrons.” Kathryn paused, savoring the moment. “Take us in. We’ll be right behind you.”

“Acknowledged,” came a voice she recognized as Cadet Lichtman. The nine squadrons moved out almost as a single entity, and Kathryn admired their discipline. Tom was right on their heels as they swung around, reversing their direction of travel and dropping toward the atmosphere. Soon the screen turned dark as Voyager’s shields heated up, temporarily blocking their visual sensors. Kathryn turned her attention to her console, reading the data as she felt the vibrations increase beneath her feet.

Just a few more seconds—there. The ride smoothed out and the viewscreen came back to life, showing the same blue waters they’d just passed over, but far closer this time. Now they were racing eastward, losing altitude at an enormous rate. This time Hawaii passed beneath them almost in the blink of an eye as they ticked off their final kilometers. They’d get to San Francisco just after sunset.

“Escort squadrons slowing to Mach ten,” said Tom. “Mach nine. Mach eight.” By the time they dropped under the speed of sound, Kathryn could clearly make out the Sierra Nevada mountains. Then the coastline rushed up to them, and there it was: the Golden Gate Bridge. The image wavered briefly, and she blinked her tears away.

“Showtime, Lieutenant Paris,” she said.

The cadet squadrons had rearranged themselves during the descent, each of them moving smoothly into a formation that resembled an arrowhead: one ship on point, two behind it, and the last three bringing up the rear. Nine of these arrowheads roared over San Francisco Bay in one huge diamond formation, no doubt delighting the crowd that jammed the bridge from one side to the other. Voyager, however, lagged behind, as Tom used the spit of land between the ocean and the bay to delay the crowd’s view. When her console beeped, indicating that Tom was ready, Kathryn gave the order.

“Commander Tuvok, fire torpedo bay one.”

They’d picked up a little package from the Enterprise the day before, and only a few members of Kathryn’s crew knew about it. She took a great deal of delight in the startled looks on her bridge crew’s faces as they heard her order, and Tuvok’s calm “Torpedo away.” A white streak showed the trajectory of the torpedo as it flew toward the bridge, with Voyager hot on its tail.

It was, to use Starfleet slang, a water bomb—a torpedo containing pressurized hydrogen and oxygen. And when it exploded just west of the Golden Gate Bridge, it created an instant and perfectly disc-shaped vertical cloud, obscuring the bridge from view. Voyager punched through it just seconds later, streaking over the bridge and then spiraling straight upward, putting on a show that no one in San Francisco would ever forget. But Tom wasn’t through yet; after pulling out of the climb he dove down once more, flying under the bridge in the only Starfleet-approved maneuver of its kind in history. Regaining a more respectable altitude, he flew a slow circuit of the bay as the fireworks began.

“Jesus god!” Lynne burst out. “Talk about trick flying!”

“Nice work, flyboy,” B’Elanna added, and the bridge crew spontaneously burst into applause. Tom blushed red to the tips of his ears.

“Just another day on the job,” he said, trying for his usual insouciant tone and completely failing as his voice caught.

“No, it’s not,” said Kathryn, and the bridge went quiet. “Lieutenant Paris, your skills are a big reason for our presence here today. Thank you for bringing us home safely.”

Tom looked over his shoulder, and Kathryn had rarely seen his expression so open. She’d just paid him an enormous professional compliment, with his father as witness. He quickly looked back to his board, making fine adjustments. “No thanks necessary, Captain. It’s been an honor and a pleasure.”

Their final moments in flight were too short, Kathryn thought. It seemed to take no time at all to complete their circuit of the bay, with fireworks exploding silently all around them. Then they were hovering over Starfleet Headquarters, and she was giving the orders to engage their landing gear. Slowly, carefully, Voyager settled to earth, and in her mind’s eye Kathryn saw a great bird of prey coming to rest and folding its wings over its back.

“Disengage engines,” she said, and the subtle hum of Voyager’s warp core ceased. For a moment she felt lost; that hum had been a part of her life for seven years. Shaking off the sensation, she checked her console, saw that all was in order, and opened the shipwide channel.

“All hands, this is the captain.” She took a deep breath. “Shut down all systems and secure all stations. And that is the last order I will give you as captain of Voyager. Welcome home, everyone. There’s a big crowd waiting for us to disembark, and we’ve got about ten minutes to change clothes while they walk over from the safety zone. The senior staff and I will be waiting for you at the ramp. Enjoy the reception, and remember that you have until 1800 hours on Wednesday to complete the removal of your belongings. So take your time—we’re not going anywhere. Janeway out.”

She closed the channel, secured her own console, rose from her seat and turned. The bridge crew was bustling around her, getting ready to leave, but all she saw were the two women standing side by side at the handrail. Her mother was watching her with an almost sad smile, while Lynne’s expression was completely unreadable.

A light touch on her arm stopped her as she began to move away, and she looked back.

“Things may get a bit busy after this,” said Admiral Necheyev quietly. “So I just want to say this now. You’ve done a fine job, Captain Janeway. You rose to an impossible challenge, and I believe you represent the best of our ideals. We’ve knocked heads before, and will undoubtedly do so again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t hold you in the highest regard.”

Kathryn was at a loss for words. Necheyev had a better poker face than anyone she’d ever known; during their debriefings she’d never had a clue as to what the Admiral was thinking. Certainly she had not suspected actual approval. “Thank you,” she said, feeling that it was utterly insufficient. “That means a great deal, coming from you.”

Necheyev gave her a short nod. “You’re welcome. Of course that also means my expectations of you have just gone up as well.” She held out her hand, indicating the doorway. “I believe you have some people to say goodbye to.”

“Yes, I do.” Kathryn turned and walked to the upper ramp, stopping in front of Lynne and Gretchen. “We need to go. I’ve got to change clothes and be at the ramp before it opens.”

“I know,” said Lynne. “Come on, Captain Janeway, I’ll escort you out.”

Kathryn smiled at the reference and preceded her personal security escort into the turbolift.  Gretchen came with them, but when they arrived at deck three she waved them on. “I’ll meet you at the ramp,” she said.

“Okay, we’ll see you there.” Kathryn walked out with Lynne. They entered their quarters and stopped at the same time.

“Well, that’s different,” said Lynne as she looked out the viewports. Their normal view of stars had been replaced with the glowing white columns of Starfleet Headquarters and the teeming mass of humanity surging around its marble steps. In the distance, the Golden Gate Bridge gleamed in the dim red light of dusk.

“It sure is.” Kathryn watched the people jostling for position near the cordoned pathway that led from Voyager to the building’s main entrance. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to being on the ground again.”

“You’ll get used to it.” Lynne pulled her into her arms and dropped a soft kiss on her temple. “I know it’s going to be tough, but just try to imagine getting used to fresh coffee, and the smell of those cornfields, and Molly greeting you every morning.”

“Oh, god.” Kathryn sniffed back a tear. “Don’t do that. I need to focus on playing my part tonight, and that doesn’t include getting all weepy over the thought of seeing my dog.”

“I disagree. I think the media would go nuts over the great Captain Janeway showing emotion for her dog. Your picture would be on every FedComm unit in the Federation.”

“That’s not exactly the picture Starfleet wants. Come on, I’ve got to change.” Reluctantly, she let go of Lynne and walked into the bedroom, where her dress uniform was already laid out. As she began to disrobe, Lynne walked in behind her and went to the closet, pulling out her own dress uniform. Kathryn paused. “You’re wearing that?”

“Well…yeah. Is that a problem?”

Kathryn shook her head. “It’s most definitely not a problem. I really hoped you’d wear it tonight, but I wasn’t sure you’d feel comfortable in it.”

“Well, I gave some thought as to who I want to be tonight, and I decided that I’d rather be your wife and personal security escort than Lynne Hamilton, head of the Hamilton Foundation. That one I can face later. So I’m not going in civilian dress tonight.”

“I’m glad,” said Kathryn, returning her attention to getting her own clothes on. “Because I completely adore you in that uniform, and seeing you in it tonight will be like an extra gift.”

Warm arms surrounded her, foiling her efforts to pull on her shirt, and a low voice whispered in her ear.

“I’ll wear this uniform any time you want me to, love. It’s not something that has to go away.”

Kathryn tilted her head, looking up into green eyes. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Their kiss was gentle but too short; they were far too aware of the time. Kathryn finished dressing and dashed into the bathroom for a quick touch-up of lipstick, then waited impatiently while Lynne did the same.

“Ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

They walked to the door and stopped, both looking back at their quarters.

“I’m going to miss this,” said Kathryn. “There are a lot of memories here.”

“I know, me too.” Lynne reached out for her hand. “Before we go, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you.”

“What’s that?”

Lynne smiled. “Thanks for giving me a lift home.”

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 6

 

 

Saying goodbye to over one hundred and forty people was an exhausting task. Kathryn knew she’d see some of them again; she was planning to keep as many as she could for her next crew. But even if she could keep them all, it wouldn’t be the same. Seven years of the only existence any of them had known was now at an end, and the strain was clear in the faces of her crew. While some were euphoric as they came down the corridor, shaking hands with the senior staff and the admirals who lined both sides of the doorway, many others were in tears or visibly fighting them. And even those who were smiling seemed a little on edge. They’d made an art form of dealing with the unknown, but this was the biggest unknown of all: coming home to a world that had moved on without them. A war had been fought, a new president had been elected, family members had been born and died, people had changed. The only true constant was the ship and the crewmates they were now walking away from, and despite all they had to look forward to, the knowledge of what they were leaving behind loomed large.

Kathryn was the last person on this final tour. She stood right by the door, shaking the hand of every crew member who walked past her and off the ship. Some of them simply thanked her; others had a few words to say; all of them deserved her full attention. She gave as much as she could, always mindful of the others waiting behind. And every now and then, when the person in front of her had walked down the ramp and the person with Chakotay hadn’t yet finished, she would look across the corridor at her mother and Lynne and marvel yet again that this was actually happening. She’d fantasized about it so many times that the actual event was surreal.

Lynne had no formal position in the lineup of senior staff, but Kathryn hadn’t wanted her out of sight. So she stood on the other side of the door, two paces back—just enough to not actually be in the lineup, but close enough to be available for anyone who wanted to say goodbye to her as well. And there were quite a few who turned from Kathryn to her, saying a few words before stepping through the door. When Kathryn had time to look, she could see the toll it was taking on Lynne. After all, Voyager truly was her home; more so than to anyone else except Seven. And her home was being emptied. Kathryn was grateful for her mother’s presence; she couldn’t imagine how much harder this would have been for Lynne otherwise.

Eventually the steady flow became a trickle as the last members of the crew came through. Some of them took the opportunity to talk longer; others were in a rush to get out and blew through their farewells with excited smiles and quick handshakes. They were fewer and further apart, and at last came the time when Kathryn looked up an empty corridor.

“Computer, list crew members currently aboard,” she said. Her senior staff stayed in their positions as they listened to the ship’s computer rattle off the names. There was no one left but themselves.

“All right,” she said. “Time to join the party.” She left her post, joining Lynne and her mother as her senior staff grouped themselves around the exit. “Everyone ready for the glare of the spotlight?”

“Have you seen what it looks like out there?” asked B’Elanna, gazing with horror at the scene before them. “This is a media circus.”

“And you’re one of the stars,” said Kathryn, chuckling at the look that earned her. “B’Elanna, you’re a former Academy student turned Maquis turned chief engineer of the long lost Voyager. Sorry, but there’s no escaping the fact that you are a Story with a capital S.”

“Then I guess I’ll be grateful that you, Lynne, Chakotay, Seven and Revi are stories with all capital letters,” she said. “As long as any of you are around, I get to shrink back into the shadows.”

“Yeah, but you, Tom and Harry are the lieutenants, so you have to go first,” said Lynne. “That means you take the full brunt of the bright lights until a bigger fish comes out. I think Kathryn and I will just wait here for ten minutes or so.”

“You wish,” said B’Elanna. “Come on, Tom. Let’s get this over with.”

They moved to the entrance, with Admiral Paris right behind them. The moment they stepped through, Kathryn heard a roar from the crowd. Lynne grinned. “Yep. Full brunt.”

“Well, at least Admiral Paris is enjoying it if they’re not,” said Admiral Necheyev. Kathryn had to stifle her smile.

“Guess we’re next,” said Harry, who was standing with Tal Celes.

“You realize that if you go out that way, you’re making a global announcement,” said Kathryn, gesturing toward their clasped hands.

He looked at Celes, who tightened her grip and smiled back at him. “We know,” he said. A moment later they were gone, to another roar from the crowd.

Tuvok stepped up, his face impassive as always. “T’Pel looks forward to seeing you at the reception,” he said. “And to meeting you, Ms. Hamilton.”

“It will be good to see her again,” said Kathryn.

“I’ll be honored to meet your wife. And I’m holding you to that invitation, Tuvok,” said Lynne.

He raised an eyebrow. “There is no need to ‘hold’ me to anything. The invitation will not be withdrawn.”

“I know. And I’m looking forward to seeing Vulcan. Actually you may be seeing me sooner rather than later, if the Foundation scares me too much.”

“In that case, I will not say goodbye.” He turned and strode out.

“Was he teasing you?” asked Gretchen, her brows furrowed.

“Hard to tell, isn’t it?” said Lynne. “You’re good, Gretchen. It took me about a year and nine months before I could figure it out.”

“That’s not true,” said Kathryn. “You caught on sooner than that. I don’t think it was more than a year.” She looked around at the knot of officers standing at the door. “Oh, come on. Let’s just go. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Revi. She held her hand out to Seven. “Want to make a global announcement?”

“In some ways, Humans are efficient.” Seven took her hand. “A simple nonverbal sign to say so much.”

“Can I hold your hand, Commander?” asked the Doctor, sidling up to Chakotay. That got a general laugh, and with Admiral Necheyev leading, they went through the door as a group. Kathryn, Lynne and Gretchen brought up the rear, and when they stepped into the brisk evening air, Kathryn was momentarily deafened by the roar that went up from the crowd.

B’Elanna was right, it was a circus. A padded rope barrier guarded by Starfleet security personnel held the crowd away from a wide path which stretched from Voyager’s ramp to the steps of Starfleet Headquarters. She could see the last of her crew walking toward the steps, waving as the crowds to either side applauded and held up signs of welcome. A lump rose in her throat.

“Amazing,” said Lynne.

“Not surprising,” said Gretchen.

Kathryn couldn’t say anything at all. They walked down the ramp, a thousand flashes blinding her as the moment was recorded for posterity, and then they were in the middle of it, walking between the barriers as people reached over, shouting things she couldn’t hear above the general roar of applause and whistles. It was deafening and overwhelming, and the masses of people became a formless blur until she caught sight of a little girl, perhaps six years old, right in front and waving at her happily. She smiled and waved back, earning a bright grin from the girl and wide smiles from her parents, standing behind her.

“She probably wasn’t even born when you left,” Lynne said into her ear.

“I know. Kind of puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?”

The applause and cheering never slowed, even as they climbed the steps and stood on a temporary podium that had been erected for the occasion. Admiral Necheyev escorted Kathryn to a spot near the transparent speaker stand, bristling with holographic recorders and microphones, while the Federation President and the Starfleet Commander-in-Chief stood nearby. The rest of her group moved off to the side, out of view of the cameras but not the crowd.

At last President Gutierrez stepped to the microphone and held his hands up, quieting the crowd. His amplified voice boomed over the grounds as he skillfully used the occasion to boost his image. He thanked Starfleet Command for doing everything it could to bring their lost ship home, and spoke in measured, practiced tones of loyalty, history and great moments of courage. Through it all Kathryn managed to keep a smile on her face, though she spent the duration of the speech fantasizing about exposing him for the asshole he truly was. We’re here in spite of you, not because of you, she thought mutinously, and knew by Lynne’s expression that she was thinking the same thing. But this was time for politics, not truth.

After the President finished, Starfleet’s Commander-in-Chief had her turn. Her speech was shorter and much more to the point, outlining precisely what Starfleet had done in its attempts to recover Voyager but noting that in the end, it was the ship and crew that had brought themselves home, with an inter-quadrant treaty in hand, no less. She briefly suggested the possibilities that treaty had opened, sketching a hopeful future that would help to heal the lingering wounds of the Dominion War, then announced that she would now turn the stand over to the person they’d all been waiting for. This was Kathryn’s cue, and she stepped up to shake her superior’s hand. Flashes went off everywhere, followed by a second burst as she shook the President’s hand. When she turned to the speaker stand, the two dignitaries stepped in to flank her, presenting a photo opportunity that all San Francisco apparently took advantage of, judging by the storm of flashes. Kathryn hoped she’d be able to see clearly again by the end of her speech.

“On our journey home,” she began, “we met a great number of new races. Some of them were welcoming. Many were not. All of them were different. But I can tell you, with absolute authority...” She paused, then grinned. “We never met anyone who could throw a party quite like this.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Alison Necheyev felt a bit like that eight-year-old her aunt had teased her about this morning. She stood on the opposite side of the podium from the Voyager officers, watching Kathryn Janeway address an estimated crowd of fifty thousand and knowing that every one of them was now eating out of her hand. Her speech made the President’s and the Starfleet Commander-in-Chief’s seem like so much lip flapping; common and expected and something simply to be endured before getting to the good part. They spoke like politicians. But Captain Janeway was that rarest of creatures: a politician who made everyone think she was not. She spoke with a combination of authority, assurance and informality that made her seem accessible and admirable all at the same time. Alison was completely in awe.

“Well, now we know why they made it home,” said a female voice.

Startled, Alison turned to find Elise Hamilton and Charles Fornay standing next to her. With their matching black hair and similar heights, they looked more like relatives than Elise and her cousin Adele. Charles had married into the family via Adele, though Alison secretly thought that he made a much better Hamilton than his wife did. Adele’s attractive blond looks belied a rather unpleasant personality and a singular disdain for anyone who wasn’t of use to her. Elise had far more charisma, and her light gray eyes sparkled with an intelligence that Alison had seen displayed time and again in board meetings.

But why were Charles and Elise out here? She’d thought they would be inside, heading the receiving line along with Brian Hamilton. As officers of the Hamilton Foundation’s board of directors, they certainly had the power and prestige to be there by name alone. The fact that Lynne Hamilton was now standing just on the other side of the podium was all the more reason for them to be present.

Then again, maybe they just didn’t want to miss this scene. Alison turned back to watch Captain Janeway easily captivating the crowd. “She’s definitely a leader,” she said.

“Hell, I’d follow her anywhere,” said Charles in a tone of frank appreciation. “She wouldn’t even have to make it an order.”

“Down, Charles.” Elise elbowed him. “Sometimes I’m surprised Adele lets you out unsupervised. Where is she, anyway?”

“Inside. She didn’t want anything to do with the speeches.”

“Well, she missed out,” said Alison. The other two nodded as they listened to Captain Janeway wrapping up her speech. The crowd roared its approval when she finished, and she raised her hand in a farewell gesture, smiling broadly before turning away. She went straight to Lynne Hamilton, wrapping an arm around her waist as the group of officers and dignitaries moved off the podium and into the building.

“It’s certainly been an interesting evening so far,” said Elise. “I loved that flying stunt under the bridge. Can’t believe Starfleet actually authorized it. Shall we go?” She gestured toward the side entrance.

“Any reason in particular that you two are skulking around back doors?” asked Alison, turning to walk with them.

“Uncle Brian is representing us in the receiving line,” said Elise. “They don’t need the Vice Chair and Secretary if they’ve got the Chair. And I’m not a fan of cameras.”

“And anyone going through those doors is fair game,” added Charles, pointing behind them at the main entrance.

“I suppose you’ve had a good deal of experience in avoiding cameras,” said Alison, who hadn’t really thought about it until now.

“God yes.” Elise nodded emphatically. “It’s a genetic characteristic. Comes with the name.”

“Yeah, as soon as I married into that name I acquired the gene as well.” Charles grinned at them.

“That’s because Adele gave you hers. She actually doesn’t mind being photographed. Me, I can’t be bothered to spend that kind of time worrying about how I look.”

This was a rather ingenuous statement, Alison thought. Elise never looked anything but elegant.

“Adele doesn’t mind because cameras love her,” said Charles. “If a bad photograph exists of her, I haven’t seen it.”

“I haven’t either, damn her.” Elise grinned at Alison, her eyes crinkling in amusement.

It was interesting, seeing these two outside the boardroom. She’d never been around Charles and Elise in a social situation. As the CEO of the Hamilton Foundation, she was its public face—attending functions and being photographed and interviewed was part of her job. Normally the Hamilton board officers did not subject themselves to such things, preferring to stay out of the limelight and in the back rooms where the power truly lay. Tonight’s reception was different, of course. Everyone who was anyone had tried to be in attendance. Alison had heard some stories about favors traded and gifts given that stretched even her credulity, and she was fairly jaded about such things.

Charles jogged ahead and opened the side door with a flourish. “Ladies,” he said. “Shall we meet a legend?”

“There are quite a few legends in there,” said Alison as she stepped past him. “Which one were you thinking of?”

“He wants to see if Captain Janeway will give him an order.” Elise was right behind her.

“If only she would,” said Charles. The door shut behind him, blocking the roar of the crowd and making the corridor seem hushed by comparison.

“What’s the matter, Charles, Adele not domineering enough?”

Jesus, thought Alison. She wasn’t sure if Elise was teasing or not.

“Judging my marriage by what you wish you had? There are clubs for that sort of thing, you know.”

Alison reached the door leading to the lobby and turned just in time to see Elise flashing a rude hand gesture at Charles. “Are you certain you’re not related by blood?” she asked. “Because you look like it, and now you’re acting like it.”

“Sometimes I wonder,” said Elise as she and Charles joined Alison in the doorway. “God, those poor people. Just stepped off the ship and bam, they’ve been dropped right into the political swamp.”

The immense, high-ceilinged lobby of Starfleet Headquarters had become a reception hall tonight, ablaze with light and filled with music, food, a very long bar, and more dignitaries per square meter than Alison had seen since the last Presidential inauguration. The officers of Voyager were still making their way down the receiving line, their progress slowed by the fact that every person in the line seemed to have something to say. It was definitely different from the usual such thing, where a smile, a handshake, and a quickly forgotten introduction were the order of the day. She spotted Captain Janeway and Lynne Hamilton instantly; Ms. Hamilton’s unique dress uniform stood out amid the crowd of Starfleet officers. They had nearly reached Brian, and a moment later she watched as the Chair of the Hamilton Foundation reached out for Captain Janeway’s hand, smiled and said a few words, and then turned to Lynne Hamilton. Nothing in his facial expression indicated anything but pleasure at meeting her as he shook her hand.

“Is he still doubting her?” she asked her companions.

“Uncle Brian would doubt Jesus himself if he appeared in that receiving line,” said Elise. “It’s not that he’s suspicious of her in particular. It’s just that there’s a great deal at stake and he won’t be satisfied until the proof is in his hands.”

Alison turned to her. “And what do you think? Still certain?”

“Oh yes. How could she be anything but the real thing? And I think that deep down Uncle Brian believes it too; he’s just waiting for the empirical evidence.”

Charles nodded as Alison looked at him. “She’s real. When the possible explanations for a fraud being out there are more outrageous than the explanations for the real thing…” He shrugged. “But she’s going to have to prove herself. And that’s a meeting I’m looking forward to.”

“I feel sorry for her,” said Elise, her gaze on the receiving line. Alison turned back to see Ms. Hamilton nodding at something Brian was saying.

“Why?” she asked.

“Can you imagine vanishing from here and reappearing in the year 2753? With no friends, no family and no idea of how anything works? And then you don’t even have the chance to figure it all out quietly; instead you’re in the spotlight from the moment you arrive. That poor woman will have no idea what hit her. When word gets out who she is, she’s going to be a target for every fundraiser, politician, charity project, social climber and scam artist from here to Romulus.”

“That poor woman, as you call her, is the wife of Captain Janeway,” said Charles. “I think she’ll be well protected.”

“Don’t you think it’s your job to protect her as well?” asked Alison, earning surprised looks from her companions. “She is your family.”

“She shares our name, Dr. Necheyev,” said Elise. “That doesn’t make her our family.”

Startled by the cool tone of her voice, Alison swiftly revised her opinion of Elise Hamilton. “Then I guess it’s a good thing she’s made a family of her own on Voyager,” she said. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to dive into the swamp.” Without waiting for a response, she stepped through the door and into the crowd, making a beeline for the bar. She’d actually liked Elise right up until this moment. In the boardroom, her professionalism was beyond reproach, and her easygoing humor often acted as a counterpoint to Brian’s more uptight leadership style. But this cool dismissal of an honest-to-god blood relation did not sit well. That she could say she felt sorry for Lynne Hamilton one moment and disavow any association the next…well, it smacked of the careless me-first attitude that Alison found all too common among the rich and powerful.

She ordered two chilled shots of vodka at the bar and stood waiting near the end of the reception line, smiling and nodding at familiar faces as they passed by. Aunt Alynna worked her way down the line, stepped off the end and came right over.

“How’s the hand?” asked Alison, offering one of the shots.

“Sore.” Admiral Necheyev picked up the shot and tossed it back in one swallow. “Thank you, Alison. Your mother brought you up well.”

Alison sipped her own drink. “Knowing when to have the vodka ready is a sign of a good upbringing?”

“Among other things.” The Admiral called a waiter over and dropped the empty glass on his tray. “Ready to meet them?”

“I’ve been ready for a while.”

They stood together companionably, watching the senior officers of Voyager move down the line. “That’s Commander Revi Sandovhar and Annika Hansen,” said the Admiral with a discreet gesture. “Ms. Hansen doesn’t respond well to the name, though. She prefers her Borg designation, Seven of Nine.”

Alison shivered. “I suppose if that’s all she knew since the age of six, it makes sense. What about the Commander?”

“I haven’t spoken with her very much, but Owen and I asked Captain Janeway quite a few questions about her. According to the Captain, she’s left her Borg past well behind her. She hates them just as much as anyone else; perhaps more. They took a great deal away from her.”

Alison knew she wouldn’t get much more than that out of her aunt, who was a stickler for protocol and did not share personnel information. But she was curious about the Commander’s history with the Borg. The number of people who had survived assimilation and come out with their sanity intact was, so far as she knew, limited to Captain Picard, Seven of Nine and now Commander Sandovhar.

“She must be a strong person,” she said. “She was with them far longer than Captain Picard.”

“Seven of Nine was with them for eighteen years.”

“Yes, but Seven of Nine was raised by them. She didn’t have a lifetime of memories taken away.”

“And then given back,” said the Admiral cryptically.

“Hello, Admiral Necheyev.” They turned to see Gretchen Janeway approaching, a drink in each hand. “I’m glad it was you on that line and not me.”

“Ms. Janeway,” said the Admiral. “May I introduce you to my niece, Dr. Alison Necheyev. When she’s not attending Starfleet functions she’s the CEO of the Hamilton Foundation.”

“Yes, I know.” Gretchen Janeway nodded at her. “It’s good to make your acquaintance. I’m sorry, but my hands are too full to shake yours.”

“I had no idea you were a two-fisted drinker,” said the Admiral, and Ms. Janeway smiled.

“Only at receptions stuffed full of stuffed shirts.”

Alison snorted, earning a bigger smile.

“I see you’re in agreement, Dr. Necheyev. Actually, these aren’t for me. I knew where my daughter and daughter-in-law would be going next. It’s not a coincidence that you’re both standing here.”

“Caught,” said Alison. “I admit I’ve been anxious to meet Captain Janeway and Ms. Hamilton for some time.”

“Well, here’s your chance.”

Alison felt a frisson of excitement as she watched the two women step off the reception line, look around and spot them. Gretchen Janeway raised a glass, and Captain Janeway smiled. In a few steps they were there.

“Mom, you’re a lifesaver.” Captain Janeway accepted a glass of brown liquid and ice, which Alison was reasonably certain was a whiskey and soda. She shuddered in disgust. Well, even great captains had to have their down sides. Perhaps Captain Janeway simply hadn’t had a proper introduction to good vodka.

“Soda with a lemon twist for you, Lynne,” said Ms. Janeway, handing over the glass and earning a grateful look. “Since they don’t have the Hamilton special here.”

“Thanks, Gretchen. Guess I should have brought a thermos of the good stuff.” Lynne Hamilton sipped her drink and looked over the top of the glass at Alison. “Dr. Necheyev,” she said, lowering the glass and holding out a hand. “It’s good to meet you face to face.”

Alison shook her hand, noting the very firm grip. It wasn’t until after releasing it that she realized she’d just shaken hands with a prosthetic. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time,” she said. “Aunt Alynna and I had our moments of doubt. I’m so glad you’ve all made it home safely. Captain Janeway, this is an honor.”

The Captain’s handshake was no less firm. “The honor is ours. And thank you for helping Lynne. We appreciated the background information on the Foundation; it’s helped us to know what she has to deal with.”

Alison heard what was not being said. On the surface, Captain Janeway was thanking her for sending the files that would prepare Ms. Hamilton for her eventual inheritance, but she didn’t doubt for a moment that Janeway had also understood what she had to watch out for. Her mind flashed back to Elise, coolly dismissing Lynne Hamilton from the family, and she knew for a certainty that Ms. Hamilton was in far better hands with the woman before her.

“Anything I can do to help, I’m happy to do,” she said, looking from one to the other. “And Ms. Hamilton, assuming that there are no issues with proving your ancestry, I’ll soon be your employee anyway. So please don’t hesitate to ask me for whatever you need.”

Ms. Hamilton looked uncomfortable. “Let’s not worry about my ancestry tonight, hm? I’m just happy to be—”

“WOO HOO!” shouted someone nearby, causing heads to turn.

“Oh, good god,” said Captain Janeway.

“Let me take your drink for you,” said Gretchen Janeway. She snatched her daughter’s drink from her hand just before a flying body impacted, sending the captain staggering back a step.

“GODDAMN it’s good to see you!” The new arrival held the captain in a crushing hug, then pulled back just enough to reveal a face wreathed in smiles. A face, Alison realized, that had to belong to a Janeway. There was no mistaking the nose and cheekbones, though the riot of long, dark, curly hair and the far larger bone structure was certainly different.

“It’s good to see you, too.” Captain Janeway’s grin was ear to ear, and Alison was a little taken aback at how it transformed her face. “Even if you’re still as disruptive and incorrect as ever.”

“Fuck being correct; this place needs some livening up.” The woman pulled Janeway back into a fierce embrace. “But first I have to hug you a bit more.”

Gretchen cleared her throat. “Admiral, Dr. Necheyev, this rather profane individual is my youngest daughter, Phoebe.”

Phoebe let go of her sister, keeping one arm around her waist while she extended the other. “A pleasure, truly.” She shook hands with both of them and then turned to Ms. Hamilton, who was in the act of handing her drink to the elder Janeway.

“When do I get my hug?” Ms. Hamilton asked, opening her arms. Phoebe lost no time detaching herself and launching her body into her sister-in-law’s arms instead.

“Right now,” she said, laughing. “GOD this is wonderful. You feel fabulous!”

Ms. Hamilton laughed as well, lifting Phoebe Janeway right off her feet. “So do you, shrimp.”

“Hey! I’m not a shrimp. That’s Kathryn.”

“You are to me.” Ms. Hamilton bent backward, lifting Phoebe even more before suddenly straightening and depositing her back on the ground. Holding a hand on top of Phoebe’s head, she grinned and said, “Yep. Shrimpy.”

“Kathryn put you up to this, didn’t she?”

“I didn’t need to.” Captain Janeway was holding her drink again, still smiling at her sister. “Sorry, Phoebe, but the old nickname just lost its power. You may have four centimeters on me, but Lynne’s got about fourteen on you.”

“They grew ‘em tall back then, didn’t they?” Phoebe knocked Ms. Hamilton’s hand off her head and hugged her again. “I’m really, really, really glad you’re here.”

“I’m really glad to be here, believe me.” Ms. Hamilton rested her chin atop Phoebe’s head. “Thanks for all those letters,” she said softly. “They helped a lot.”

Phoebe pushed up on tiptoe and kissed her cheek. “You’re welcome.”

“Phoebe.” Captain Janeway’s grin was gone as she stepped up to them. She put a hand on her sister’s shoulder, opened her mouth, then shut it again and ducked in to kiss her cheek. “Thank you from me as well.”

“I can certainly see where your loyalties lie,” said Phoebe half-jokingly, but her eyes were suspiciously shiny.

“Damn straight.” Captain Janeway lifted her glass in salute and took a sip. “You look fantastic, by the way. Obviously the itinerant artist life agrees with you.”

“I’m not itinerant.”

“Only because I give her free housing,” said Gretchen Janeway.

“Hey, can I help it if my paychecks don’t come regularly? At least when they do come, they’re big ones.”

Alison was having so much fun watching them that she hadn’t realized until that moment what she was intruding on.

“Aunt Alynna, shall we leave the Janeways to their reunion?” she asked.

“Oh god, don’t go,” said Gretchen Janeway. “If you do that somebody else will step in. Stay awhile and protect us from the politicking.”

“You won’t be able to escape it for long,” said the Admiral.

“No,” agreed Ms. Janeway. “But we’ll take what we can get.”

They didn’t get much; within five minutes their group had been joined by two more admirals and a senator. At that point Alison excused herself and walked back to the bar for a refill. As she waited for her order she saw President Gutierrez make his way over to the Janeways, a genial smile on his face as he shook hands with Lynne Hamilton. Alison rolled her eyes; she could hardly believe the man had the balls to make nice with them after trying his best to order Janeway into a suicidal act and then have her court-martialed when she refused. To look at him now, one would think he’d been their biggest fan from the start.

But not to look at Ms. Hamilton, she realized. The others in the group were long used to hiding their true feelings, but Ms. Hamilton clearly did not have the practice. She was regarding the President as if he were something nasty on the bottom of her shoe, and Alison found herself smiling at the sight. God, the woman really was a neophyte in politics.

It was going to be a shame to see that change.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 7

 

 

“I can’t believe we’re actually here.” Kathryn watched the familiar landscape beneath their hovercraft, her body tingling with the recognition of every familiar hill, field and farmhouse. Uninhibited by clouds, the three-quarter moon lit up the snowy scene with a cold majesty. Every single tree and bush seemed to stand out in sharp relief.

“Ha,” said Revi. “You think you’re in denial? This time two years ago I was on an ex-Borg colony in the Delta Quadrant. If you’d told me I’d be flying over Indiana cornfields now I’d have laughed in your face.”

“Don’t start that contest with me in the hovercraft,” said Lynne. “You know I’ll win.”

“Good point.”

“I’m just happy to be out of that reception,” said Gretchen from the pilot’s seat. “What a thing to inflict on a crew that just wanted to get the rest of the way home.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Mom,” said Kathryn. “Not everyone was as unimpressed with it as we were. A lot of the lower decks crew were probably thrilled to mingle with captains and admirals and Starfleet’s Commander-in-Chief, not to mention the President of the Federation.”

“And to have their families see them in that kind of company,” added Lynne.

“Not to mention the networking possibilities,” said Revi. “What?” she asked as Kathryn scowled at her.

“I’d like to get through one evening without thinking about my crew being stripped, if you don’t mind.”

“Love,” said Lynne gently, “they’re not necessarily your crew anymore.”

“They are to me. I’ll thank you not to disabuse me of that just yet.”

“How about after you’ve had a few days of home cooking and nothing to do except sit by the fire and read a good book?” asked Gretchen.

Kathryn smiled at the thought of it. “That sounds like paradise.” She felt a sudden chill as they passed the MacGruder’s farmhouse, followed swiftly by full-sized stomach butterflies when they approached and then flew over the line of Lombardy poplars that marked the edge of the MacGruder property. They were now flying over Janeway land.

She reached for Lynne’s hand. “We’re here, sweetheart,” she said in a voice that was not entirely steady. “This is home. These are the fields I grew up in.”

Lynne squeezed her hand. “Take me for a walk tomorrow?”

“Count on it. After we sleep until noon.”

The craft was quiet as they flew the final kilometer, and when the Janeway farmhouse came into view, Kathryn’s breath stalled in her throat. This whole flight felt like a dream. How could everything be so unchanged after all this time? Especially when she herself felt so different?

“Hell of a playground you grew up in, love.”

“I know. I had a pretty magical childhood.”

Gretchen settled the hovercraft in the yard and switched off the engines. “Revi, Seven, the guest house is all ready for you. But I’d like to invite you in for a hot drink before you leave us for the evening.”

“We’d love that,” said Revi.

“Thank you, Gretchen,” Seven added.

“Good. Leave your bags here and we’ll get them on the way over.”

Kathryn hopped out onto the cleared path, the ice-cold air effortlessly penetrating all the way to the bottom of her lungs. “Oh, god. Indiana in January. I forgot what the air feels like.” She stood still, absorbing each breath with awe.

“Feels about like Colorado in January,” said Lynne. “But it smells different. No mountains.”

“Mountains have a distinctive odor?” asked Seven, coming around from her side of the craft. She was walking carefully, her head swiveling as she observed the mounded snow to either side of the path.

“Oh yes,” said Lynne. “Come skiing with Kathryn and me and you’ll find out.”

“Ooh, skiing,” said Revi. “I haven’t done that in about seventy years.”

A bark sounded from inside the house, and Kathryn’s head snapped up. “Is that Molly?”

“Yes,” said Gretchen, leading the group to the porch steps. As they climbed up, she added, “Remember, Kathryn, she’s not the same dog you left behind. Don’t be surprised if she’s a bit creaky in the joints.”

“I know, Mom. Don’t worry.”

They stood in a clump on the wide wooden porch as Gretchen tapped the door’s keypad. The door slid open with a slight shhussh sound, and instantly a red furry body filled the space, snuffling at her legs. Kathryn felt her throat tighten at the sight of Molly, who was waving her tail in the dignified fashion of a matriarch.

“Hi, Molly,” murmured Gretchen, scratching the soft, floppy ears. “I brought someone home for you.”

“Molly!” Kathryn said.

Molly’s tail stopped in mid-wave. She looked up, then pushed her head past Gretchen’s legs and peered out with rheumy eyes. Kathryn dropped her bag with a thump and bent down, her hands on her thighs. “Molly, sweetie, it’s me.”

Molly shoved past Gretchen, nearly knocking her off her feet, and dashed up to sniff Kathryn’s legs, hands, and face.

“Hello, old friend,” Kathryn whispered, running her hands over the silky coat. “I see you’ve had a bath for company. But I’m not company. Do you remember me?”

With a shrill, yelping bark, Molly launched herself upward into Kathryn’s arms. Unprepared for thirty kilograms of squirming dog, Kathryn stumbled backwards and Molly landed back on the porch. Undaunted, the old dog jumped up again and again, wriggling and barking in a paroxysm of canine joy. By unspoken agreement, the women on the porch moved to the sides, making room for the pair, but it was still a confusion of frenzied dog and people and luggage. On impulse Kathryn ran down the steps, wanting more room for this reunion. At the bottom she stopped and turned, nearly tripping over Molly who had been right at her heels. She bent over, trying to calm her frantic dog, but Molly would not be calmed. She landed from one leap only to launch another, trying desperately to lick Kathryn’s face, barking and yelping in a way that Kathryn couldn’t remember her ever doing before, not even in her puppy days. Worried about Molly’s excitement damaging her old joints, she finally caught the dog in mid-leap, hoping to restrain her until she slowed down. But Molly wouldn’t stop squirming, and Kathryn didn’t have enough traction on the slippery path. Unable to balance herself with her arms, she went over backwards, landing in a soft bank of snow with a delighted dog on top. Molly took gleeful advantage of their new position, and after half a minute of fending her off Kathryn finally gave up, dropping her arms and laughing as she accepted a thorough tongue bath. When Molly showed no signs of slowing down she finally sat up, holding off her wiggling dog and looking up at the wide-eyed women on the porch.

“I thought you said she was old and arthritic!” she called out.

“She is!” said Gretchen.

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her that active in three years,” added Phoebe. “I guess she missed you.”

“I guess she did,” said Kathryn, holding her hands on either side of Molly’s head. “And here I was worried you wouldn’t remember me,” she whispered.

Molly barked again, her jaw dropping slightly open in a dog smile, her breath condensing in the cold air as she stared with total adoration. Kathryn felt the tightness in her throat again, but this time she couldn’t push it back down. Wrapping her arms around her dog, the newly crowned hero of the Federation buried her face in soft fur and cried.

 

 

 

 

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