Rating:  NC-17

Acknowledgements:  As always, heartfelt thanks to Shayenne, for keeping me pointed in the right direction.
 
 

By Mary S.
 
 

Part 1:
 

           Three months after her ship’s spectacular return to the Alpha Quadrant, Kathryn Janeway sat in her office at Starfleet Headquarters, methodically reviewing her own reports on Species 8472.  As she scrolled through paragraph after paragraph, the thought flashed through her head that mere words could not convey the utter horror of Voyager’s first encounter with them, over four years before.

           ‘The weak shall perish.’

           She could still hear Kes’ soft voice speak the appalling words, could still recall how incongruous it had seemed that Kes, the most gentle soul on the ship, should be acting as the mouthpiece for such a terrifying race.

           Thoughts of Kes inevitably led to thoughts about the rest of the crew.  Funny how they had scattered far and wide so quickly.   She hadn’t expected that.   In all the turmoil of their sudden arrival in the Alpha Quadrant followed by extensive debriefings, they had been kept together in a group.  It hadn’t occurred to her that once they were free, they would disperse so rapidly.   But they had.   With the official pardon of the Maquis and commendations issued to the entire crew, as well as her own promotion,   there was no longer any reason to stay together.    Even their home was gone, since Voyager had been put in drydock at Utopia Planitia.

           She remembered how strange, almost surreal, their final gathering had been at the official welcome home party.   All the familiar faces had suddenly been less familiar.   The Alpha Quadrant had begun to change them already, allowing some to reclaim old lives and others to start new ones.    Several times over the course of the evening, she had felt almost out of place, as if she no longer belonged with them.   The realization that her family was breaking up had caught her unawares and off-guard.   She had nearly burst into tears as she surveyed her people from the dais – never again would she see them gathered altogether like this.

           She sighed and rose to fetch a fresh cup of coffee from the replicator, then stood gazing out her window.    Well, she told herself, as in so many families, eventually the various members had to strike out on their own.   And they certainly had.   Mentally she catalogued the whereabouts of her senior staff.

           Tuvok had immediately tendered his resignation, permanently this time, and retired to Vulcan.  She very much doubted if T’Pel would ever allow him to set foot off-planet again.
 
           Harry had finally received his long-overdue promotion to Lieutenant, then promptly been assigned to a science vessel as acting first officer.   The mission would be short, no more than a month in duration, he assured his anxious mother, who was protesting his precipitate departure so soon after returning home.   Janeway could empathize.   After all, his last mission was supposed to be short, too.

           Tom and B’Elanna had elected to remain in Starfleet, accepting plum positions in Engineering and Ship Design.   They had been put in charge of a project to design and build a new generation of runabouts, which would incorporate various technologies discovered in the Delta Quadrant, including Borg.   Seven had a standing offer to join them when she was ready.

           Seven.

           Thoughts of her inevitably led to Chakotay.   Janeway sighed again, acknowledging the familiar pain even as she forced it down.   It would do no good to dwell on what had happened.   The fact was that Chakotay had moved on, and become involved with Seven.   She hadn’t seen them since the party, but by all reports, they were very happy.

           She couldn’t, and didn’t, blame him.   She had never given him any reason to believe she wanted a closer relationship than friendship.  Although she knew that for a long time, he had continued to hope for something more between them, the episode on Quarra and her obvious distress at leaving Jaffen, had apparently been enough to finally convince him to give up.   They had drifted apart after that.

           Janeway finished her coffee and turned back to her desk.  She had never quite succeeded in sorting out her feelings for Jaffen.     She had loved him, she was sure, and yet – she could clearly remember tracing the outline of Chakotay’s tattoo on Jaffen’s forehead.   Even with her memories erased, the connection with Chakotay had remained, embedded in her subconscious.  Once he’d found her, there had been no doubt in her mind – she’d known instinctively that they were connected and hadn’t hesitated to give him the help he needed.

           The ties were still there.   And no matter how often she told herself she had to let him go, she couldn’t.   She sighed a third time.  Chakotay was in her soul – she would love him until the day she died.

           Janeway forced her mind elsewhere, her face brightening as her thoughts went to the doctor.  She’d actually had more contact with him lately than any of the others.  He had taken up residence on Jupiter Station under the watchful eye of his creator, Louis Zimmerman.  She chuckled, recalling the nonstop barrage of insults and sarcasm that they had hurled at one another during her last visit.  It didn’t take a Betazoid to discern the very real affection each held for the other.   It had also been one of the very few occasions when she had seen the doctor concede an argument.

           She turned her attention back to her terminal and brought up the report on her second meeting with Species 8472.  She wondered if their interaction on that occasion had had any long-lasting effects.  At the time, she had entertained real hope that the groundwork of trust they had established, would achieve substantive results.  She had looked forward to possibly more communication with them, but it had never happened.  Well, that was why she had been given her current assignment, she reminded herself.

           Starfleet Command had been most alarmed at her reports about the inhabitants of fluidic space.  Admiral Nechayev had immediately ordered her to devote herself full-time to devising every defense and countermeasure she could think of.   The Midas Array had been realigned so its sensors could detect rifts in subspace, rifts that could indicate the presence of Species 8472.

           The admiral had voiced the concern of everyone when she stated that anyone who could defeat the Borg was a far more formidable foe.  She had also not hesitated to chastise Janeway for giving the specifications for nanoprobe adaptive technology to ‘the enemy’, as she phrased it.  In vain, Janeway had tried to explain that she had been attempting to build a rapport with ‘the enemy’.  Nechayev thought she’d been played for a fool and had said so.

           With opinion of her so low, Janeway wondered how she’d ever received a promotion!  No doubt public pressure had forced Starfleet’s hand – she doubted she would have made admiral otherwise.  Likewise, whether they liked it or not, she was still the resident expert on fluidic space and Command would be very foolish not to utilize her knowledge.

           Enough daydreaming, she told herself firmly.  Time to get back to work.  Her eyes focused once more on the screen as her mind concentrated on the problem at hand.
 

                                         =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
 

           Two days later, deep in thought, Admiral Janeway walked slowly down the corridor from the office of one of her oldest friends, Admiral Owen Paris.   She had requested an informal meeting with him, off the record, and at his suggestion, had joined him for lunch.

           Since her return to Earth, Janeway had found it much harder than she would have expected to adjust to the new Starfleet.   The Federation had fought a ghastly war while she’d been gone, a war it had barely survived.   So many of her old friends and fellow officers had died in those years that now, she felt like a complete stranger in a place which had once been a second home to her.    It wasn’t just the sea of unfamiliar faces but the hardened attitudes, the lack of tolerance, which she experienced repeatedly.  In short, Starfleet had changed and so had she, to the point that now she felt like a square peg trying to fit in a round hole.

           In desperation, she had gone to Paris, seeking guidance and advice on how to adapt to her circumstances.   What she’d gotten was a recommendation to resign.

           In essence, he had suggested she take a long, hard look at what she wanted to do with her life.   Starfleet was not the be-all and end-all – there were other options, lots of them.    She had sat opposite him at the table, her face white with shock.    This was the last thing she’d expected to hear from him.

           “Maybe I’m getting cynical in my old age, Katie,” he’d told her, “but since the war with the Dominion, there has been a shift away from the principles the Federation was founded on.   Nowadays, the emphasis is on security and defending what we have, not exploring the unknown to learn about other species.   That sense of wonder, the sheer joy of adventure, is pretty well gone.    I guess these things go in cycles – you only have to read our own history to know this has happened before.”

           He sighed, staring down at his half-eaten meal.   “I can well understand how out of place you must feel.   Sometimes, when I remember my youth, I feel the same.   I think, right now anyway, you might find yourself happier out of Starfleet.”

           She’d gasped at that even as she acknowledged he was quite possibly right.   “What do you suggest I do?”

           “There are lots of things – I’m sure if the word got out, you’d find offers from the private sector piled higher than your head!   If you don’t want to burn all your bridges here, you could request a long leave of absence.   That way, you’d have a chance to explore other possibilities and still keep your options open.”

           He shrugged, suddenly looking very weary.   “It’s a thought anyway.”

           They had finished their coffee and left shortly after without mentioning the matter again.    Now as she approached her office, she debated what to do.

           As she walked through the door, she stumbled and nearly fell.  Her assistant, a bright young ensign, who was already devoted to her, leaped to his feet in alarm.

           “Admiral!  Are you all right?”

           She tried to lift her head to reassure him but waves of dizziness and nausea made her slump to her knees.

           “I…I’m…fine,” she gasped, although it was patently obvious she wasn’t.

           The ensign knelt beside her, catching her as she began to topple over.    Frantically, he slapped his combadge.

           “Medical emergency!   Transport Admiral Janeway to Starfleet Medical!”

           Seconds later, the transporter beam enveloped her and he was left alone, still kneeling on the floor, his face pale with shock and concern.

           At the medical center, a doctor and several nurses huddled over Janeway, lying prone on a biobed.   Her face was ashen, her eyes blinking as she fought to maintain consciousness.   Her breath came in quick, harsh pants, which began to slow as her eyes rolled back in her head and she slipped into a coma.

           The doctor called for a hypospray, trying to stabilize her heart, which was beating more and more erratically.   One of the nurses moved to a terminal and began punching in the override codes needed to bring up the admiral’s personal medical history.  As data filled the screen, she peered at it carefully, searching for any clue that might give them a hint of what was wrong.

           The staff bustled about, taking samples of various fluids and running test after test.  In the midst of all the frantic activity, Janeway lay silent and unmoving, her eyes closed, like the eye in the middle of a raging hurricane.

           Minutes went by, then half an hour, and still no one had any idea what had caused her collapse.   Once or twice, after stimulants were administered, she seemed about to regain consciousness, but then she would slide back into darkness, deeper than ever.

           The doctor in charge of the emergency department appeared; he was a very experienced physician who had served over twenty years in space on several ships before returning permanently to Earth.  He frowned as he studied the results of all the tests and scans.   Like his younger colleague, he couldn’t see any problem.  He moved to the terminal, scrolling quickly through the data, then paused.

           “Delta Quadrant…”  he muttered.

           “Doctor?” queried the other man.

           “This woman captained a ship in the Delta Quadrant for seven years.”

           “Yes, sir.”  The younger doctor’s puzzled tone made it clear he  couldn’t understand the relevance.

           The older man straightened.  “Who was the doctor on that ship?”

           Another nurse at a different terminal pulled up Voyager’s crew roster.  “Originally it was a Doctor Fitzgerald but he died very early on.   After that, all they had was an EMH.  A Mark One,” she added.

           “Yes, I remember now.  An EMH.   But, from what I heard, not just any EMH…”

           “Sir?”

           “Find it!  We’re missing something here!  Find that EMH!”

           The nurse stared at him in confusion, but when he reiterated his order, she shrugged and moved to a desk comm. unit.  Her initial efforts proved fruitless.   An automated message informed her that all information pertaining to Voyager’s EMH was classified.

           The older doctor took over, using his higher authorization codes.   Still nothing.  In desperation, he directly contacted the admiral who headed up Starfleet Medical, and explained the situation, adding that Admiral Janeway’s condition was worsening and they needed to find this EMH as quickly as possible.

           He never knew what strings the admiral pulled, but twenty minutes later, a balding figure in an outdated blue science uniform materialized in the room.  On his arm was an odd-looking metal device.  He glanced around quickly.

           “Where is she?”  His tone was a nice blend of sarcasm and resignation.

           The senior doctor stepped forward.  “Who are you?”

           The balding man glared at him.  “I am Voyager’s EMH.  I was told Cap…Admiral Janeway was taken ill and my services were required immediately.”

           The doctors stared at each other, mystified.   “But…,” the younger began to protest, “how is this possible?!   We’re not equipped with holoemitters…!”

           The older man shrugged and shook his head, then turned to follow the EMH, who had spotted Janeway and pushed through the crowd to her side.   “Tricorder!” he snapped, holding out his hand as his eyes ran over her still figure.

           The nurse glanced at the doctor who nodded.  “Give whatever assistance is needed.”

           Tense silence reigned as the EMH worked over her, the only sound his occasional muttered comments.  He turned to face the ER staff.  “You’ve run blood tests?” he snapped at them.

           “Yes,” spoke up the younger doctor, leading him to a wall-mounted display.  The EMH stared at the data, his eyes seeming to go blank for several seconds before he turned to face them, his expression grim.

           “First, you must get the admiral into stasis immediately!  Otherwise, she’ll be dead within the hour,” he stated firmly.

           They all stared at him in astonishment, before the older man snapped an order.  “Do it!”

           The EMH almost laughed at the familiar words, before continuing.  “Next, we need to find Commander Chakotay at once.”

           At the stunned faces surrounding him, he added, “He has the same condition.”

           The two doctors blinked, then, voices stammering over each other, demanded an explanation.   The EMH waited until the admiral had been placed in a stasis unit, then directed their attention to the diagnostic panel displaying the results of her blood test.

           “Look,” he showed them, “see this factor here?”

           They peered carefully to where he indicated.  “You won’t find that particular marker in anyone else in this quadrant except for one person,” he told them.

           “Would that be the ‘Commander Chakotay’ you just mentioned?” hazarded the younger man.

           The EMH nodded.  “Exactly.  Nearly six years ago, Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay were both infected with a mysterious, life-threatening virus on a planet nearly seventy thousand light years away.  The virus was transmitted through an insect bite.  The only solution we could find was to leave them on the planet – apparently something in its atmosphere made them immune to the effects of the virus.”

           “Is that what you did?”

           “Yes.  The ship remained in orbit for thirty days while I worked non-stop, attempting to find some way to counteract the virus.    But in the end, I was unsuccessful.   We left them there, marooned for the rest of their lives.”

           The older doctor interjected.  “Obviously, you did discover a cure, since they’re here.”

           The EMH scowled.  “No, actually I didn’t.  Six weeks after we abandoned them, we contacted the Vidiians, a race afflicted by a terrible disease called the phage.  In the course of searching for a cure, they had discovered a way to counteract the effects of the virus.  They agreed to provide us with the serum necessary to treat the captain and commander.  We returned to the planet and retrieved them.”   He paused briefly before finishing.   “I can only conclude that for some reason, the serum is no longer effective, and the virus has reactivated.  The admiral is displaying precisely the same symptoms as she did six years ago.”

           They stared at each other in consternation.  Before either doctor could react, a nurse hurried up to them.

           “Excuse me, Doctor,” she began, speaking to the older man.   “An urgent message has been relayed from Jupiter Station for the EMH.  It’s from someone called…” she paused, glancing at the PADD she carried, “Seven of Nine.”

           They moved at once to the nearest comm. unit and activated it.   Seven’s worried face filled the screen.

           “Doctor!” she spoke hurriedly.  “Something is wrong with Chakotay!  He has collapsed for no reason!  I cannot revive him!”

           “Where are you?” demanded the EMH.

           “At my aunt’s house in Norway, near Lillehammer,” she replied.

           “Give me the coordinates, then prepare him for emergency transport.”

           She was frightened, he could see, but she didn’t hesitate.  “Yes, Doctor.  May I accompany him?”

           “Fine, Seven, but hurry!   Time is of the essence!”

           She told him the coordinates, which the older doctor immediately transmitted to the main transporter room in the complex, ordering an emergency transport.   In less than a minute, Chakotay materialized unconscious on a biobed, his skin gray in tone.   Seven stood beside him.

           At once, the doctors ordered a second stasis unit and a minute later, he was safely inside and the unit activated.  The EMH breathed a sigh of relief.  “At least he’s still alive,” he told them.
 

                                         =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
 

           Within hours, several admirals, including Hayes, Nechayev and Paris, arrived at Headquarters for an emergency meeting.  Starfleet Command found itself with some hard choices to make.   Deactivate the stasis units and let Voyager’s command team die?  Let them remain in stasis, a situation equivalent to death, while the experts tried to find a cure?  Or try to return them to the only place they could survive and live a normal life?

           Voyager’s spectacular return to the Alpha Quadrant had proven to be a single bright light in a sea of quiet despair in the Federation.   The war with the Dominion had proven devastating – millions had died, the costs had been stupendous, and reconstruction was slow.   Both the government and Starfleet had been quick to seize on the ship and her crew as a public relations bonus, in the hope of diverting the general populace from the grim realities of life.    They had used the crew’s unflagging determination to return home to trumpet the ideals of the Federation.    Having made heroes of the crew, they couldn’t easily abandon the two most senior officers, the ones who epitomized Federation values, to their fates.

           The admirals huddled together for long hours, debating what to do.

           The first option was rejected immediately, but serious consideration was given to the second.    It was decided to launch a search to find a new method of immobilizing the virus.

           Over the next several days, Starfleet Medical brought in a veritable army of experts, all to no avail.  Theory after theory was raised and tested, only to be discarded as useless.  Throughout the endless discussions, the EMH continued to reiterate that there was only one possible course of action – return them to New Earth.  His opinion was rejected out of hand until it became clear that no one else could devise another solution.  With difficulty, the EMH restrained himself from saying, ‘I told you so’.

           Once the recommendation was made, Command had to find a way to carry it out.  Now a new set of experts was consulted on how to accomplish the impossible.  The circumstances that had allowed Voyager to traverse the Delta Quadrant couldn’t be duplicated.   Or could they?

           Tom and B’Elanna Paris were working on a new prototype.  With some modifications, it might be possible to build a vessel that could withstand extended travel at transwarp speeds.  More meetings and discussions were held to examine this idea, even as other possibilities were also being explored.  Installing a transwarp coil in an existing ship was favoured by many, but repeated tests indicated that no current Starfleet vessel could withstand the necessary stress.   In every simulation they ran, the structural integrity field collapsed within minutes of initiating transwarp.

           Nearly a month later, Harry Kim returned from his mission and contacted his best friends, the Parises.   Very quickly, he was brought up to date on all that had happened.    At once, he suggested resurrecting the slipstream drive.   Tom was very dubious, but B’Elanna seized on the idea at once.

           The following day, she formally requested that Harry be seconded to the project and Headquarters approved.   Immediately, together with Seven, who had joined the team shortly after Chakotay’s collapse, they put aside the transwarp material and pulled up all their data on slipstream.    Within a week, they had prepared a preliminary report for Command.

           The prototype was already under construction, but it could be modified to accept a slipstream drive.   That was the easy part.   The hard part was reinventing the drive so that the slipstream bubble would remain stable for extended periods of time.  If they could overcome that hurdle, in theory a ship should be able to travel to the planet and back in six months.   In theory, they added, making sure that Command understood how precarious this entire scenario was.

           Admirals Nechayev, Paris and Hayes sat in Nechayev’s office surrounded by PADDs, piled in untidy heaps.   Nechayev stared grimly at the one in her lap, as if willing it to contain more hopeful information.   Eventually she raised her eyes to the other two.

           “Gentlemen,” she began, her tone bleak with resignation, “I think we all understand the situation.   There really is no other choice.  As soon as the prototype is judged safe to use, Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay will be taken to this planet in the Delta Quadrant…” she paused, glancing down at another PADD on the floor, “…the one they named New Earth.  Until then, they will be kept in stasis at Starfleet Medical under the direct supervision of Voyager’s EMH.”   She paused again, obviously waiting for comments.

           There were none.

           “Very well,” she got to her feet.  “I will inform the Commander-in-Chief and the Federation Council, then issue a brief announcement to the media.”
 

                                         =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
 

           With the full resources of Starfleet’s Engineering and Construction facilities committed to it, the slipstream project forged ahead in record time.     Used to working on the fly in the Delta Quadrant, Tom and B’Elanna, together with Harry and Seven, were working almost non-stop, determined to get the prototype up and running ahead of schedule.  In turn, their enthusiasm and dedication inspired everyone else to put forth extraordinary effort.   In less than four months, with all the tests and simulations run, the prototype was declared ready for service.

           As project leaders, Tom and B’Elanna were ordered to Nechayev’s office to discuss composition of the crew.   The admiral welcomed them both, congratulating them on a job well done, then sat down behind her desk.    She folded her hands and watched the Parises settle themselves, then began.

           “I have given considerable thought to who would be best suited for this mission, but I would like your input before making my final decision.   Given the limitations of space in the runabout, I believe its crew must be limited to two people.  Not only do the stasis units have to be accommodated, but also every possible item that the captain and commander might need for the rest of their lives.”

           She paused, then stared directly at both of them.   “Barring some unforeseen miracle, this time they will be there permanently.”

           Tom nodded.   “It’s going to be a tight fit, Admiral.   We’ll need to fill every nook and cranny.”

           “Exactly.”

           B’Elanna spoke up for the first time.   “Who do you have in mind to go?” she asked Nechayev bluntly.

           “I won’t beat around the bush,” she replied.   “I believe Lieutenant Kim and Seven of Nine would be the best choices.”

           B’Elanna’s muscles tensed as she prepared to leap to her feet in protest, only to feel Tom’s hand grip her arm.   She gaped at him, wondering what he was doing.   He shook his head, then looked up at Nechayev.

           He began to speak deliberately, his voice calm and controlled.  “Admiral, with all due respect, B’Elanna and I are the ones who initiated this project.   I think we should be permitted to carry it through.”

           “Granted, Lieutenant, and in other circumstances, I would most likely agree.   However, this is a dangerous mission, more so than most, and you have other responsibilities besides Starfleet.   Don’t you?” she added, as B’Elanna snarled softly.

           They both stared at her briefly before nodding and looking away.  “Yes,” replied Tom softly.

           “I’m sorry.   But I think if you’re honest with yourselves, you have to agree.”

           B’Elanna’s eyes gradually lost their mutinous glare as she acknowledged the truth of the admiral’s words.    Their daughter Miral had to come first.   She sighed unhappily and slumped in her seat.   Tom took her hand and rubbed the back of it.  “Look at it this way, sweetheart.   At least it’s Harry and Seven.    The ship couldn’t be in better hands…”

           “Yeah,” she muttered.  “It’s just…this is our project.   We’ve put so much time and energy, so much of ourselves into it and I really wanted to be the first to try her out.”

           “I know,” he sympathized.   “Believe me, I understand very well.   But the admiral’s right that we shouldn’t go.   However,” he looked Nechayev in the eye, “while I agree with the choice of Harry, I’m not so sure about Seven.”

           The admiral’s expression became decidedly less warm.  “May I ask why?” she inquired in a frosty voice.

           Tom stared right back, quite unintimidated.   “Just before we returned to the Alpha Quadrant, Seven and Chakotay became involved in a torrid romance.   While most of us believed it would have burned out by now, given the circumstances, as far as I know, it hasn’t.   She’s in love with him, Admiral.   What if she decides she doesn’t want to leave him?”

           B’Elanna jumped in.  “He’s right.   She has no ties here, except for an aunt whom she hardly knows.”  She paused, thinking, then her face twisted with an expression akin to horror.  “Chakotay with the captain and Seven?!”  Her voice was emphatic.   “That would not work!”

           Nechayev sat silent, wearing a decidedly sour expression.   Finally she looked up, her face set.   “We need two people on that crew, one won’t be enough, for safety reasons, among others.   And because of the limitations of space, we can’t send more than two.   Therefore each one has to be the best-qualified person we can find.   We have already eliminated both of you – they are the next best choices.

           “If we can get an undertaking, a promise, from Seven that she will return, I would still want her to go.   I don’t have to tell either of you how experimental all this is – you know that better than anyone else.    It is vital that we maximize our chances of carrying out this mission successfully, and I believe that Mr. Kim and Seven of Nine will best be able to do that.”   She looked at them.   “Agreed?”

           They nodded their heads in unison.

           “Very well,” continued Nechayev.   “I will speak to both of them, make it clear to Seven that she must come back with Mr. Kim.   Otherwise, she will be condemning him to die.”

           She nodded her head firmly, then changed the subject.  “Now, on a happier note…have you thought of a name for the ship?”

           They stared at her in surprise.   “No,” replied Tom.   “We haven’t.”

           “Well, she’s going to need to be called something.   See what you can come up with and let me know.”

           B’Elanna brightened.  “How about ‘Traveler’?  Or better still ‘Adventurer’?”

           Tom frowned, considering.   “Why not shorten that to ‘Venturer’?  It sounds a little more daring, don’t you think?”

           Nechayev pondered the suggestion, then began to smile.  “ ‘Venturer’ it is.”   She got to her feet and held out her hand.   “Thank you both for your input.  It has been most helpful.”

           Tom and B’Elanna made their farewells and very soon after, were on their way back to their offices.    By the time they returned, Seven had already been called in to see the admiral, while Harry had been informed of her decision.   He was looking a little apprehensive, knowing how high the Parises’ expectations had been that they would be chosen to go.   Tom was quick to reassure him.

           “Yeah, we’re disappointed, of course.   But you know, Harry, when I thought about it, I had to admit Admiral Nechayev is right.   We couldn’t leave Miral for that length of time and there just isn’t room to take her along.   Not with all the stuff she needs.”   He clapped his friend on the shoulder.   “I’m glad it’s you guys going, rather than anyone else.  Just don’t scratch the paint, okay?”

           Harry breathed an audible sigh of relief and impulsively hugged them both.   “I won’t.”
 

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           Departure for the Venturer was set in one week’s time, preparations reaching a fever pitch as lists and notes were checked and rechecked.    Seven had agreed at once to the admiral’s conditions.   Her concern for Chakotay and her desire to be with him for as long as possible, overpowered any potential reluctance to leave him behind on New Earth.   She solemnly promised Nechayev that when the critical moment arrived, she would not abandon Harry.

           Finally, the night before they were to leave, everyone gathered at the spacedock where the little ship floated gracefully, still draped in cables.   Admiral Nechayev arrived with Voyager’s EMH as well as Admiral Paris, Dr. Louis Zimmerman and Lieutenant Barclay.    They were followed by a tall, dark figure, walking alone.

           Tom was the first to notice him.   “Tuvok!” he exclaimed in delight.   Quickly, the others turned, then moved to gather around the Vulcan, overjoyed to see him.

           He stood motionless, letting the excitement ebb and sway about him.   Finally, when the voices had died down a little, he spoke.   “I have come to say farewell to our captain and commander and to wish them, and you, safe journey.”

           Harry and Seven stood shoulder to shoulder.  “Thanks, Tuvok,”  Harry spoke for both of them.   “We really appreciate your making the effort to see us off.”

           “You are my friends.   I could do no less.”

           Admiral Nechayev stepped forward.   “Although normally, we would toast the launch of a new ship with champagne, these circumstances are considerably more difficult.   We are filled with anticipation and excitement about this journey, but also with dread that we will be losing two valued comrades.   However, I think we may be consoled with the belief that we are giving them the best future we can.”

           Tom added.   “May they spend the rest of their lives in peace and contentment.”

           “Hear, hear!” chorused several voices.

           Later, after the admirals had left, the remaining crew from Voyager stood at the viewport.

           “It’s ironic, you know,” remarked Harry.   “Here I am, taking the captain and commander back to New Earth, when I was the one who fought so hard to rescue them from that planet six years ago.”

           Seven looked at him, curious.   “What exactly did you do?”

           “Damn near mutinied is what he did,” grinned Tom.   “Remember, Tuvok?”

           “Only too well,” came the sober reply, slightly edged with sarcasm.

           Harry blushed, embarrassed to recall his precipitate actions of so long ago.   “I don’t know if I ever properly apologized to you, Tuvok, or thanked you for that matter.”

           One slanted eyebrow rose.   “Thank me for what?”

           “Changing your mind and going back for them.”

           “There is nothing to thank me for.   It was the logical thing to do.”

           Tom smiled.   “Sure it was.   Although as I recall, didn’t the captain accuse you of making an emotional decision?”

           Tuvok sighed as much as a Vulcan could.  “I must admit, she did.   But she was in error.   Once Kes had pointed out to me the illogic of trying to run a ship with an unhappy crew, there was simply no other choice.”

           “At least this time, I don’t feel we’re abandoning them in the same way,” remarked Harry hopefully.   “If the Venturer proves as good a ship as I think she will, we’ll be able to check up on them from time to time.”

           “That’s the spirit, Har,” replied Tom, raising his glass in a salute.
 
           “Don’t you worry about how well she’ll perform, she’ll do fine,” growled B’Elanna.  “Just be sure to bring her back in one piece!”

           Seven spoke up.   “I assure you, Lieutenant, we will.”   Her tone left no one in any doubt.
 

                                         =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
 

           Early the following morning, the stasis units were loaded aboard, then all the supplies that could be fitted in.   By the time Harry and Seven arrived, they could barely squeeze past the stacks of cargo.   Harry grimaced and remarked to Seven that they were lucky someone had remembered to leave a bit of room for them.

           Tom and B’Elanna appeared at the hatch, looking tired and anxious.

           “Remember,” Tom instructed them, “we can keep in contact through the Midas Array up to about thirty thousand light years.   After that, you’re on your own.”  He grimaced slightly.  “At least the territory won’t be entirely unfamiliar.”

           Harry nodded, trying to find words to reassure them, but in the end, he gave up and hugged them both.   B’Elanna whispered something in his ear as she held him tight.   As he released her, he murmured a promise.   “I’ll remember, B’Elanna, don’t worry.”

           Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, but he knew she wouldn’t cry until she was alone with Tom.   “Thanks, Harry.   Have a safe journey.”   She stepped back as the hatch slid closed, her hand finding Tom’s and gripping it tightly.

           They moved to the viewport and watched as the cables fell away one by one until the little ship hung all alone in the dock.   Very slowly, she began to slip forward, at first hardly seeming to move.   As she cleared the scaffolding, her speed increased.   In a few seconds, she was gone.

           Tom heard a muffled sob and glanced over to see tears pouring down B’Elanna’s face as she covered her mouth with her free hand.   He pulled her into his arms and hugged her very tightly, burying his face in her hair.

           “They’ll be fine, sweetheart.   They’ll have a good life,” he whispered to her.

           He felt his shirt grow damp as she shuddered.   After a moment, she lifted her head.   “I know,” she answered, “it’s just…I never even got to say goodbye!”

           He patted her back.   “Harry will tell them for us.”

           She nodded and gave him a watery smile.   “He better!  I’ll kill him if he forgets…!”
 

                                         =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
 

Three months later:
 

           “Ship’s log.  Stardate 56284.4.   Today, we have arrived at our destination – New Earth.   The slipstream drive has performed flawlessly.   However, I must admit to mixed feelings – pride that our ship has done so well, and sorrow that the time has come to say goodbye for good.

           “Although the captain and commander have been in stasis for the duration of our journey, we have felt their presence with us.   I only hope they can understand and accept the decisions made for them, and realize that we had no choice.   End log.”

           Harry rose from his chair and stretched, then moved to the rear cabin where the stasis chambers rested.   As he suspected, Seven was crouched there, her eyes focused on Chakotay.    He debated whether to disturb her, then decided to give her a few more minutes.   He knew how hard the last six months had been on her.   They could take a bit of extra time now.

           He turned back into the command area and adjusted the sensors to scan for any signs of humanoid life on the planet below.   As he had expected, there were none.

           Just as he finished, Seven appeared by his side, her face pale but determined.   “Is everything ready?”  she asked.

           Harry nodded.   “We can beam them down anytime.   I thought we’d transport the stasis chambers first, then the supplies.   Okay?”

           “That would be logical.”  Seven’s voice was flat, without inflection.  She moved to the transporter console, inputting the settings.  “Initiating transport.  Transport complete.”

           Without a word, she adjusted the settings to begin beaming down the cargo.    Harry sat watching as the containers gradually disappeared, one by one.    At the end of fifteen minutes, the ship was empty.

           Still silent, he activated the wakeup routines on the stasis chambers, then sat motionless, waiting.
 

                                         =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
 

           On the planet, Kathryn Janeway blinked several times as consciousness returned.     She realized she was in a stasis chamber and wondered what had happened.    Pushing the release button, she began to climb out, then stopped to stare around her in disbelief.    Her eyes swept over a nearly forgotten landscape.

           It couldn’t be!

           Beside her, she heard a muffled exclamation and looked around.   There was Chakotay, scrambling out of an identical stasis chamber, his eyes wide with astonishment.

           “What the hell is going on?!” he demanded.   “Where are we?!”

           “I don’t know!   I can’t believe…!   It’s not possible…!”

           She moved to stand on the ground, only then noticing the piles of crates and equipment.   Her hand flew to her mouth as a sob caught in her throat.   Were they caught in some kind of time warp, perhaps a repeating loop?   This couldn’t be real, it simply couldn’t!

           At the sound of her gasp, Chakotay moved to her side, gripping her arm.   “Are you all right?”

           Her eyes flew to his.    “I…I don’t know…   Talk about déjà vu!”

           “Tell me about it!”

           He noticed her combadge.   “Do you think that works?” he asked, indicating it.

           She glanced at her chest.  “I don’t know.   Let me try.  Janeway to anyone who can hear me.   Please respond.”

           “Kim here, Captain.   How are you?”

           “Fine, but…” her voice trailed off momentarily.  “Harry!   What the hell is going on?!”

           “The virus that infected you and Chakotay before on the planet, reappeared several months ago.   Just like the first time, you both collapsed and had to be put into stasis.   It was decided that the only way you could survive was to return you here.   And before you ask, Captain – believe me!  Every other alternative was considered!”

           There was silence for a minute before he heard her voice, the tone much softer.   “I’m sure they were.”    She fell silent again, obviously trying to take in the fact that she and Chakotay were right back where they’d been six years before.     He heard her sigh over the open comm.   “We have so many questions…   How long can you stay in orbit?”

           “A day, two if necessary.”  His tone was a mixture of pride and concern.   “The Venturer has done even better than we hoped, but…it is a long way home.  And there’s only Seven and I – we couldn’t fit in anyone else.”

           “The ‘who’?!”   Janeway sounded perplexed.

           “The Venturer, Captain.   Starfleet’s latest, designed by Tom and B’Elanna, with a lot of help from Seven and me.   She’s a hybrid, an  enlarged version of a standard runabout powered by a slipstream drive.”

           “You mean you got it to work?!”  She was impressed.

           “This version, yes.   It’s been modified quite a bit from the one we tried to use on Voyager.   But basically it’s the same.   And it worked to perfection.    We took three months to cover over sixty-five thousand light years.”

           “Really!”   Her voice sounded wistful.  “I wish I could see it.”

           Harry felt his stomach twist.   “I wish you could, too.”

           Silence fell again for several minutes.  “Harry, we’re going to take a look around, see if anything’s left.   This…it’s kind of hard to take in, you know?”

           “Sure, Captain, we have time yet.”

           “Thanks.   I’ll call you in a little while.   Janeway out.”

           While Kathryn had been talking to Harry, Chakotay had wandered off to look for the old shelter.    As she tapped her combadge closed, she looked around to see him just disappearing into the trees.   She cast a glance at the piles of equipment, shrugged her shoulders and followed him.   They had time yet to check over the containers before the runabout departed.  She caught up with Chakotay as he paused, looking about.

           “Where is it?” she asked, knowing exactly what he was searching for.

           “Should be right around here, I’m pretty sure,” he hesitated a moment longer, then walked forward slowly, pushing through thick overgrowth.

           “Here it is,” he called to her, as she trailed slowly in his wake.  Kathryn pulled aside several more branches, then raised her head as she stepped into the clearing.

           At first the shelter seemed intact, but when she looked more closely, she could see the roof was gone.    Chakotay pushed uncertainly on the closed door.   It stayed stubbornly shut until he put his shoulder into it and heaved.   Suddenly it flew open, making him stumble and nearly fall.   He disappeared inside and she hurried to follow.

           The interior was a shambles, the partitions fallen over and branches and other debris lying about haphazardly.    As Kathryn stood in the middle of the main room, she could hear the sound of something scurrying underneath the largest pile.

           “It would seem that the monkey took you up on your offer to use the house,” remarked Chakotay as he examined the nearest wall.

           “The monkey or something else?” she asked.

           He shrugged.   “I can’t tell for sure without a tricorder, but somebody
has certainly set up housekeeping.”   He moved to the next wall.   “You know,” he continued, “these are in pretty good shape.   If we put on a roof and cleaned it up, we could probably use this for storage.”

           “How hard would it be to build a roof?  Do we have enough materials with us or will we have to create something?”
 
           “I don’t know yet.   We’ll have to find out exactly what they’ve given us.”   He glanced around again, then walked out the door.    “Are you coming?” he asked, when she showed no sign of moving.   “There’s a lot to get done before dark.   We don’t have a shuttle to sleep in this time.”

           Kathryn had been losing herself in memories, but Chakotay’s words forced her mind back to the present.   “Right behind you,” she assured him, as she hurried to catch up.

           For the next half hour, they busied themselves inventorying all the equipment and supplies that Starfleet had sent.   By the time they’d finished and checked in with the runabout, they were tired and hungry.   Harry announced that Seven was replicating a picnic lunch for them and would have it ready to transport in a few minutes.
 
           To Kathryn’s surprise, Chakotay visibly cringed when Harry said ‘picnic’, but before she could speak, his face closed down completely and he turned away.   She opened her mouth but couldn’t make herself ask; his whole body was radiating tension.    She sighed and thanked Harry, then moved away from Chakotay to sit on one of the containers.

           Her eyes wandered aimlessly over the landscape as she acknowledged that while on one hand, she was horrified to be stranded here again after all her efforts to get home, on the other hand, she wasn’t sorry at all.    Deep down, she admitted to herself, she was elated to be with Chakotay again.   She had missed him so much since their return to the Alpha Quadrant.  At times, she’d thought she’d go crazy with loneliness.
 
           The sound of the transporter interrupted her musings and she moved to open the basket that had materialized.    A blanket lay on top – she spread it out on the ground and called Chakotay to come and eat.

           For a moment, he remained quite still, then sighing audibly, he walked slowly to join her.   She couldn’t help but notice the sadness in his eyes and sighed herself.    She might not be that unhappy to be here, but he certainly was.

           They ate quickly and in silence, neither feeling the need for words.   As they finished, Harry contacted them.

           “Captain, Commander.   Was lunch all right?”

           Kathryn answered for both of them.  “It was lovely, Harry, thank you.   Please tell Seven we enjoyed everything.”

           “Sure, I’ll do that.”   He paused.   “Captain, how long should we remain in orbit?”

           Kathryn smiled.   “In a hurry to get home, Harry?”

           “No, ma’am!  Not at all!”  His voice was intense.   “Neither Seven nor I want to go, but I don’t know what else we can do for you.  Unless you can think of something…?”

           “Let me check with Chakotay.   I suppose there’s no reason for you to stay any longer.”  Kathryn glanced over at him as she spoke, seeing him shake his head morosely.   “He agrees, Harry.”   She paused.   “Contact us when you’re ready to break orbit.”

           “Yes, ma’am.”
 

                                         =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
 

           On the runabout, Seven sat rigid in her chair, her hands clutching the armrests as she stared at the planet.    She bit her lip, trying to control the trembling, but Harry could see the effort it cost her.   He stretched out a hand to grip her arm, trying to offer reassurance.   Her eyes flew to his and he recoiled slightly from the wild, desperate look in them.

           She swallowed, trying to speak, her voice low and hoarse.   “I…need to go down there.   I can’t leave them, leave him…”

           Harry moved to stand beside her.   “You can’t go, Seven, you know that.”

           “I have to!”

           “No!   You don’t!   They’ll be all right!   You promised, Seven, you promised Admiral Nechayev you’d come back!   I need you to help me fly the ship!   I can’t get home by myself.  You know that!”

           Her face crumpled.   “Please!” she moaned.   “Please don’t make me leave him!”

           For a moment, Harry nearly lost his resolve in the face of her grief.   Only the certain knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to manage the ship by himself made him determined not to let her go.   He gripped her shoulders tightly, his voice urgent.

           “Seven!   I need you!   If you don’t come back with me, I won’t make it!  I can’t do it alone!”

           She stared up at him, then took a deep breath and stilled the trembling of her body.   “I understand.   I won’t leave you.”  Her voice was resolute.

           He pulled her up into his arms and hugged her tight.  “Thank you,” he whispered.

           Slowly, her arms slid loosely around his waist as she let her head drop to his shoulder.   He felt her body relax into his embrace.  He held her for a few minutes more, rubbing her back, then let his hands drop and stepped away.

           “Are you okay now?”

           Seven grimaced slightly, but nodded.  “I will be.”

           He resumed his seat, thinking that the sooner they got underway, the better.   He didn’t know how long Seven would be able to withstand temptation.   He set the controls to break orbit and hailed the captain.

           “Kim to Janeway.”

           “Janeway here.”

           “We’re ready for departure, Captain.”  Despite his best efforts, his voice was tremulous.

           Kathryn clenched her teeth, fighting down her innate fear of being abandoned.    Her rational side stated unequivocally that there was no other solution.   If she wanted to survive, she had to stay here.

           She took a deep breath and with a calm voice replied.   “Harry, Seven, thank you for undertaking the task of bringing us here.   I know this entire situation has been very difficult for you both, and I appreciate the sacrifices you’ve made.”

           There was silence for a moment, before Harry replied.  “We’re glad to have been of service, Captain.   This is something we wanted to do.”   He paused before adding.   “Once we engage the slipstream, we’ll be out of comm. range almost immediately, so…”   His voice trailed off as he ran out of words.

           “I understand…”  Kathryn paused to gather her thoughts, then continued.  “I’d like to record a message for my family, and then speak with Seven, if she’s willing.”

           “Sure, Captain.  Go ahead.”

           She hesitated, trying to gather her random thoughts into some form of coherence.   Eventually, she was able to find the phrases necessary to reassure her mother and sister that, while she regretted more than she could say that they had been torn apart again, they were not to worry.   At least, not too much.   Chakotay was with her, and she would be fine.  She ran out of words at that point, so finished by telling them how much she loved them and she’d think of them every day.

           Harry gave her a moment, then hailed her.   “I have Seven here, Captain.”

           A moment later, a familiar voice came through the combadge.  “Yes, Captain?”

           ‘Good lord’, thought Kathryn, ‘she sounds so cool and unaffected!’   She spoke briefly, thanking Seven for all she had done over the years and telling her how privileged she had been to know her.
 
           Seven’s voice was noticeably warmer when she replied and Kathryn breathed a sigh of relief that they were parting on amicable terms.   Her eyes went to Chakotay, standing silently close by.

           “I’ll say goodbye now, Seven.   Chakotay is here and I know he wants to speak to you.”

           “Thank you, Captain.”

           Kathryn glanced at him again, then walked away until she was out of hearing.   She remained there until Harry hailed her nearly half an hour later.  A few last goodbyes, including B’Elanna’s final message that she and Tom would make sure they were not forgotten, and the link was severed.

           They were on their own.
 

                                         =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
 

           When Kathryn turned around to find Chakotay, she could see no sign of him.  It was only when she walked back to the pile of containers that she discovered him on the ground, slumped against one of them.   His shoulders were shaking and his face was buried in his hands.   She paused, before deciding to leave him alone; she didn’t think he would welcome her presence right now.

           For the next little while, she busied herself sorting through the equipment, deciding what was immediately necessary and what could be put aside for the time being.   She deliberately kept away from Chakotay, trying to give him some space.

           She couldn’t help remembering the last time they had been marooned here and what a contrast their attitudes were now.   Then it had been Chakotay who had been quite content to live out his life here, and she who had worked unceasingly to find a way to allow them to leave.    Now, he was making it very obvious how deeply unhappy he was to be here with her.  She, however, if she were honest with herself, had to admit that she wasn’t sorry to have pried him away from Seven.

           She paused on that thought, chastising herself for being unfairly jealous, then sighed and continued to pull out the panels for the new shelter.    Hopefully, she mused, given enough time, he would be able to accept their situation.   And if he couldn’t?    She blinked, feeling her stomach tighten in fear, before reminding herself that he would.   He was Chakotay – it was part of his nature to take what the galaxy gave him and make the best of it.

           She heard a slight sound and turned to find him approaching her, his face a neutral mask.   She smiled tentatively.   “I’ve been trying to decide where we should start,” she began in a cheerful tone.   “Any suggestions?”

           He looked over the pile.   “I guess assembling the shelter should be our first priority.”   He reached for the panels that she had been stacking.   “So, do you still prefer beige on the inside?”

           Kathryn nodded.   “Oh yes, I still look better in beige.”  As a joke, it fell pretty flat but at least it gave them a place to begin rebuilding their old friendship.

           They spent the rest of the day, working hard to put up the shelter and bring in the necessities before nightfall.   Once it was fully dark, they moved inside, continuing to unpack and set up furniture.   Few words were exchanged as they toiled until eventually Kathryn paused to catch her breath, only then realizing how hungry she was.

           “Chakotay,” she called to him from the other side of the room.  “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.   Why don’t we take a break and have something to eat?”

           He didn’t respond at first – clearly his thoughts were elsewhere – but when she spoke his name a second time, he looked up, puzzled.   “Sorry, Kathryn, I didn’t hear you.”   His voice was tired and flat.   “What did you say?”

           “I said how about finding some food?   I don’t know what there is, but there must be emergency rations at least…”

           “Sure, I guess.”  He sighed.   “We better get the replicator operational first thing in the morning.”

           Kathryn took a beacon and headed outside to the pile of containers.   After rooting through several, she finally located some rations and brought them in triumphantly.

           “Here we are!   Not the greatest selection, but I think we’re too tired to be picky.   I found some water too.    Come and sit down.”

           Chakotay wordlessly moved to sit beside her, picking up a ration pouch and gazing listlessly at it for a moment.   Then, squaring his shoulders, he ripped it open and began to eat.     They ate in silence, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

           As she finished, Kathryn eyed Chakotay over the rim of her water container.    His face was slack with weariness, his eyes downcast.    Her heart went out to him and she gently placed a hand on his arm in an old, very familiar gesture.

           He looked up at her bleakly, trying not very successfully to smile.   She made no attempt to hide her concern.

           “Are you okay?” she asked gently.

           “Yeah,” he sighed, “I will be.   Don’t worry.”

           “I’m sorry, I wish there was something I could do.”

           His hand covered hers for a moment.  “I know.   It’ll get better in time; it’s just that it’s all been such a shock…”

           She nodded, then got to her feet.   “I think we’ve done enough for today.   There’s no point in wearing ourselves out, we have lots of time after all.   Why don’t we go to bed now, and get some sleep?   I’m sure we’ll both feel much better in the morning.”

           Chakotay nodded wearily as he rose, then turned away to step outside.   When he returned a few minutes later, he headed straight for his cubicle.   Kathryn busied herself tidying up for the night, while keeping one eye on him; she could just make out his form through the frosted partition.   Quickly he stripped off his clothing, letting it fall to the floor, then collapsed, exhausted, on his bed.    She heard him sigh sadly as she slipped into her own little room and began to undress.   Her heart constricted with sorrow.   ‘Oh Chakotay’, she thought, ‘you hurt so much and I don’t know how to help, if you won’t let me in.’

           Her treacherous brain reminded her that many times on Voyager, he must have thought exactly the same thing about her.
 

                                         =^= =^= =^= =^= =^= =^=
 

           The following morning, Kathryn and Chakotay both rose early, determined to get the replicator, latrine and sonic shower operational, as well as assemble the rest of the furniture.   They worked hard for several hours, and by lunch, had nearly finished.    There was some merit, Kathryn remarked, in having done all this before – each task seemed to take less time than previously.

           After a light meal, she suggested taking a break and asked him if he’d like to go for a walk down to the river.    Chakotay shook his head, replying that he wanted to finish bringing the replicator online and then clean out the old shelter.   Before Kathryn could say that she would help, he told her to go ahead and have her walk.   Right now, he preferred to keep busy.    Thinking that maybe this was a subtle hint that he wanted some time to himself, she agreed and got to her feet.

           “Don’t try and do all the work,” she told him.  “I’ll see you later.”

           He nodded and turned to clear the table.

           Kathryn stared at his broad back for a moment longer, then sighed to herself and walked outside.   Time, she told herself, he just needed time.

           The day was warm and sunny as she ambled off, looking for any sign of the path they’d made long before.   However, it appeared that the years had obliterated all traces of it.   ‘Oh well,’ she mused as she strolled through the trees, ‘I’ll just have to make a new one.’

           Despite her worry about Chakotay, Kathryn couldn’t help feeling relaxed.    Her ramblings brought her into the meadow by the river.   She meandered along slowly, stopping frequently to examine a plant or flower that caught her attention.   Eventually, she came to the river at a favourite spot – a large rock that overlooked a deep pool.   She glanced around, then climbed up to sit on the top.   Once settled, she looked about her in amazement.    On the surface, nothing had changed; it all looked exactly the same as it had six years before.

           The river burbled at her feet, while insects in the meadow buzzed in the background.   She stared at the opposite bank of the river, where the ground sloped up a gentle hillside to a line of thick forest cresting the top.   She recalled how occasionally she had speculated about what was on the other side of that hill.   Well, now she’d have time to find out.

           Her last conversation with Admiral Paris popped into her head – how ironic that he had been advising her to consider other possibilities besides Starfleet, maybe even resign her commission – and here she was, on the other side of the galaxy again.   Somehow, she didn’t think this was quite what he’d had in mind.

           Thoughts of Paris inevitably led to thoughts of her family and her mouth twisted in pain.    She had barely begun to get reacquainted with her mother and sister, and now she would never see them again.   That hurt more than anything else.   She felt guilty that she was causing them both yet more pain, and hoped they could find it in their hearts to forgive her.

          Kathryn closed her eyes, forcing her mind away from the Alpha Quadrant, letting the peace of this place wash over her and settle deep into her soul.    For some reason, the Nakami spirits flashed through her memory and she chuckled to herself.   She remembered how impatient she had been at first when they manifested themselves as three old people.   She had been so sure that science and quantifiable facts would show her the way to save Kes’ life.    And in the end, they had been no help at all.   Faith alone had been the key – faith that if she believed she could save Kes, she would.   And she had.   But it had been a hard lesson to learn.

           What would they think of her now, she wondered?   Would they tell her she was still too anxious for results, that she still hadn’t learned to just sit?   Probably, she acknowledged.  Starship captains were rarely in a position where they could stop and smell the roses, any more than they could take something on faith.   However, she was no longer a captain, admiral or anything else except a woman destined to live the rest of her life on a planet deep in the Delta Quadrant.    She would have time to explore all sorts of possibilities and ideas, as well as places.

           Kathryn opened her eyes slowly, surprised that the sun was already slipping down towards the horizon.   It was later than she’d realized.   She got to her feet, stretching muscles grown stiff from sitting in one place for so long, then jumped down off the rock.   She was looking forward to spending time here, but right now, she’d better go back and see how Chakotay was doing.

           As she picked up her pace and strode across the meadow, she decided to take a slight detour to look for the bathtub.    As she approached the old shelter, she could hear Chakotay working inside.   She bypassed it to search on the other side – ah, there it was.

           She peered inside, finding it full of debris.   On impulse, she kicked off her sandals, then climbed in and cleaned it out.    Now, she wondered, was the waterline still intact?   She heaved herself out, flipped the intake valve and waited.   A few groans and gurgles could be heard, and then the welcome rush of water.   Terrific!   If the heating unit still worked too, she could have a bath tonight!   She turned off the valve, and activated the heater, then let several minutes pass before dipping in her hand.   Unfortunately, the water remained stubbornly cold.   Apparently, the heater no longer functioned.   Oh well, perhaps tomorrow she would find some time to repair it.   She drained the tub, then headed for the shelter.

           Meanwhile, Chakotay had spent the afternoon trying to keep as busy as possible in the hope that the work would calm his mind.   He had cleaned out the old shelter and started some of the repairs necessary to make it usable for storage.  The roof would require Kathryn’s help, but he had discovered that the walls only needed a few patches here and there to make them weatherproof.

           As he toiled, his mind slipped into memories of the last time they had been stranded here and he found himself comparing his feelings of that time to what he felt now.    He hadn’t been unhappy then, he recalled, once he’d gotten over the initial shock.   In fact, he had settled into his new life almost too easily.   Of course, Kathryn had been the difference.   He knew he’d already started to fall in love with her even before they were stranded – their time here had simply reinforced and deepened his feelings.    But now, it was very different.

           It had taken a long time, over five years, but eventually he had gotten past his unrequited love for Kathryn Janeway and moved on.   Although Seven had taken the first steps to initiate a relationship with him, he had responded quickly.   He remembered how awkward she had been at first, touchingly insecure as she tried to exhibit what she termed ‘appropriate behaviour’.    It had taken him a while, but eventually he’d been able to convince her that just being herself was the best way.   Once she’d gotten past that hurdle, their relationship had progressed quickly.

           He had been surprised to discover that, like him, she was a physical person, something he would never have expected after so many years of knowing only the aloof Borg.   She had become a warm, loving companion, one whom he had been delighted to watch and help explore her feelings.   They had been settling nicely into a deep, committed relationship and he had believed that finally, he had found someone he could share his life with.

           Until now.

           He sighed heavily as his memory turned to their final moments speaking over the comm.   She had been crying when he had finally cut the link, unable to prolong the pain of their parting any further.   He had been in tears himself, despairing to the depth of his soul.

           He finished the last patch, and began to gather up his tools, his heart heavy with unanswered questions.   Why did this keep happening?  Why was it that every time he thought he had found someone to love, she was torn away from him?

           His thoughts wandered to Kathryn and he tried to decide what he felt for her now.   Friendship, certainly, that hadn’t changed, but was there anything else?   Right now, he didn’t know.    Didn’t know what she felt either, but then, he told himself, he never had.

          Sometimes he’d thought she loved him and just couldn’t tell him because of command protocols; other times, particularly in the last year on Voyager, he’d been convinced she didn’t.    One thing he was sure of now – after experiencing all the positives of a secure relationship with Seven, he really didn’t feel like playing games anymore.   Maybe Kathryn had changed, he told himself, he should give her a chance.
 
           He cursed the virus again for turning his life upside down, then looked up as he heard a sound.    Kathryn stood hesitant at the door.   He tried to paste a happier expression on his face, but didn’t think he was very successful.   She came inside, looking around.

           “You must have spent all afternoon here, Chakotay.    I thought you were going to wait for me to help.”

           He shrugged.  “I needed something to do.   Everything in the shelter is finished, so I came here.”

           She came close to him, peering up into his face, her eyes concerned, unconsciously putting her hand on his chest as she had so often in years past.   Her touch warmed him and he found himself relaxing.    She still cared for him, he could see that, and she was trying every way she could to make this time of adjustment as easy as possible for him.    He smiled again, much more genuinely, and her face relaxed.

           “Let’s go make dinner,” she told him.

           “Only if I get to cook,” he retorted, falling into their old banter.   She whacked him gently, feeling absurdly relieved that he would tease her.   Maybe he was starting to feel better.

           However, after dinner, which, in the end, they replicated, the cheerful mood was gone.   They sat awkwardly over their tea, each wondering what the other was thinking.    Eventually, Chakotay got up and reached for his medicine bundle, saying he was going out for a while and not to wait up for him.    Kathryn nodded, hoping that a vision quest might help him settle his mind.

           She curled up on the small couch and propped her head on her hand as her mind slipped back into memories of the last time they were here.   Unbidden, echoing through her thoughts, she could hear Chakotay’s laughter as he teased her about her gardening skills.    She could see his warm smile, the concern in his eyes when he worried about her, the open lust on his face when he’d seen her wrapped only in a towel.   She remembered how he had built the bathtub for her, made a home for them, begged her to accept their new life, and, in the guise of a story, told her he loved her.

           She sighed softly – the man here now was a very different person from the man of six years before.   Up to this moment, she hadn’t realized how much he’d changed.  If she were honest, she had to admit she’d never really thought about it.

           Maybe that was part of the problem.   She knew she had been guilty far too often of taking him for granted, of relying on his care for her without giving anything back or even acknowledging his feelings.   Since, this time they were stranded here for good, it would behoove her to pay a little more attention to him, put his needs first.   After all, when they’d been here before, he’d been in love with her.   Now, she knew, he wasn’t.

           She rose to her feet on that melancholy thought, deciding she should go to bed before she became even more depressed.   As she prepared for bed and climbed under the covers, her mind roamed haphazardly, wondering what she could do.   Before she could think of anything, she fell asleep.

           It was several hours later when Kathryn awoke abruptly to the distinct feeling of being watched.   She sat up quickly, her heartbeat thundering in her ears.    Her eyes darted around the cubicle before finding Chakotay standing in the doorway, staring at her.   Startled, she gasped, then took several deep breaths, trying to calm herself.    She gazed at him, wondering what he wanted, but he remained silent.   Suddenly feeling absurdly nervous, she reached for her robe at the foot of the bed and pulled it on.   Her movement seemed to bring him back to an awareness of where he was.  He jerked suddenly, as if startled, then turned and disappeared into his own alcove.

           Very early the following morning, before Kathryn was even awake, Chakotay was up and out the door.   By the time she rose an hour later, there was no sign of him.

           She wondered whether to look for him, then decided not to, thinking he must want some time to himself.   The day passed slowly as she moved from one chore to the next, trying to keep herself busy and occupied with various mundane tasks.   She was determined to leave him alone, but when he hadn’t reappeared by late afternoon, she began to grow concerned.
 
           Another hour passed as Kathryn debated what to do.    By now, close to sunset, she was becoming really worried.  She didn’t want to intrude on Chakotay’s privacy, but on the other hand, he could be hurt and need help.    She would go and look for him, see if he was all right.   If he was, then she could simply return to the shelter without bothering him.

           Picking up the tricorder, she scanned the immediate area but could see no sign of him.   Widening the parameters, she began to walk slowly towards the river.   Eventually, she picked up a faint reading, which she realized was coming from the other side.   She continued on, wondering how he’d gotten over there, until she arrived at the bank and found his clothes heaped in a pile.   She stared at them, realizing that obviously, he must have swum across.

           She checked the readings again, trying to determine if he was in any kind of distress.    His vital signs were all within the norm, indicating that he was fine.

           She turned on her heel, thinking she should leave, but despite her best intentions, she couldn’t make herself move.   While the tricorder might give every indication that Chakotay was all right, her gut feeling told her that she should stay.   She flattened a patch of grass near his clothes and settled down to wait.

           It was nearly dark by the time Kathryn saw a shadow on the opposite bank slip into the water.   She blinked several times and focused her eyes, not sure what she had seen.   A faint splash told her that someone or something was crossing the river.   She kept very still, straining in the twilight to see who it was.

           A few minutes later, a naked figure emerged from the water.   She relaxed as she recognized Chakotay’s broad shoulders.   She bit her lip, wondering if she should keep silent, then decided she was being foolish.   In the faint light, she could barely see him, anyway.

           “Chakotay,” she called softly, not wanting to startle him.

           He jumped, then spun around, peering through the gloom.  “Kathryn?”

           She got to her feet, but didn’t move, not wanting to approach until he had a chance to dress.  “Yes.”
 
           “Just a minute while I get something on.”   He paused and she could see him bend over and pick up his pants, then pull them on.   A moment later, he reached down and scooped up the rest of his clothing, then came to where she stood.

           “I didn’t mean to bother you,” she began, “but I began to get worried when the sun started to go down and you hadn’t come back.   I was afraid maybe something had happened…”

           “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I hadn’t realized how late it was.”

           He sat to tug on his boots, then moved to join her as she began to walk back through the meadow.  “Did you have a nice day?” she asked him.

           He grimaced slightly.   “I don’t know if you could call it ‘nice’, but it has been productive.”

           Kathryn looked up at him inquiringly, but he wouldn’t say anymore.   “I’ll tell you over dinner, but first I want a hot shower.   That river is cold.”

           They picked up their pace and very soon arrived at the shelter.

           “Why don’t I replicate dinner while you have your shower?” she suggested.

           Chakotay agreed and immediately disappeared into the bathroom.   A few minutes later, he returned, pulling on his shirt.   Kathryn pulled the plates from the replicator and placed them on the table.

           “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.  Let’s eat first, then you can tell me.”

           They ate quickly, both hungry after the day’s exertions.   After they’d finished, and Kathryn had cleared the table, she returned with a cup of tea for him and coffee for herself.    She sipped in silence, watching Chakotay play with the handle of his cup.    It occurred to her that she couldn’t ever remember seeing him this nervous and certainly not with her.

           As the silence continued unbroken, she felt herself becoming more and more anxious.    Finally in desperation, she reached across the table, covering his hand with hers.

           “It’s me, Chakotay.   Talk to me.  Tell me what’s wrong.”

           His eyes flew to hers, hearing the worry in her voice, then he looked away before replying in a low, hesitant tone.   “I…don’t know where to start.”

           “Tell me what you’re thinking,” she replied firmly, even as her heart started to pound.

           “You don’t want to know.”

           “Try me,” she retorted, stung by his reluctance.

           Chakotay sighed resignedly.   “Very well.    I’m thinking that…it’s all so different this time.   I’ve been comparing my feelings of the last two days with how I felt the last time we were here.”  His tone became more intense.  “We’ve changed so much, Kathryn, in the last few years – I hadn’t realized how much until now.”

           She nodded her head.   “I know what you mean.  I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

           He bit his lip, then lifted his head to look directly at her.   “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it.   I love Seven and I miss her very much.   Losing her so suddenly is incredibly painful.   We had just gotten settled into a wonderful relationship, one that I believe would have been permanent.”

           Oh god!  Kathryn tried not very successfully to swallow the lump in her throat as his words cut through her.   She had known and yet…to hear him actually say it hurt much more than she would have expected.    She clenched her teeth and managed to keep her eyes on him as he continued.

           “I went on a vision quest last night, hoping my animal guide would suggest a way for me to ease my mind.   Instead, I got advice that I’m having trouble accepting.   I think her analysis is quite wrong although, up to now, she has always guided me well.”  His voice was bleak.  “What do I do if I can’t follow her advice anymore, if I can’t trust her?”

           Kathryn felt his anguish pierce right through her.   She reached to take his hand in her own, offering what comfort she could.   “Can you tell me what she said?” she asked, not sure what help she might be able to offer.

           Chakotay stared at her, then answered bluntly.  “She said that I should put Seven out of my heart and place you there instead.”
 
           Kathryn was stunned into silence, but Chakotay hadn’t finished.  “I don’t know if I can do that.”

           She found her voice.   “Why not?”

           “I don’t know if I can trust you.  I don’t know who you are anymore, Kathryn.  You’re certainly not the person who was here with me six years ago!”

           “You’re not either!” she replied, stung by his accusation even if it was true.

           “True,” he conceded, “but it still doesn’t solve my dilemma.   What should I do?  Dare I trust you again when you hurt me so many times before?  I can’t go through that again!   I know what love reciprocated between two people is like, I had it with Seven.   I certainly never had it with you – ever!”

           Unable to sit still, Kathryn got to her feet and began to pace slowly across the room.    She sighed, not sure what to tell him, how to convince him that he could trust her not to hurt him.  Chakotay watched her in silence, waiting.   The ball was in her court now.

           Finally, she moved to stand behind him, letting her hands fall lightly on his shoulders.

           “Once upon a time,” she began, as her fingers started to massage his neck, “an angry warrior told me a beautiful story of love and devotion, a story that I can remember word for word to this day, even if it sometimes seemed as though I’d forgotten it.  I never did, Chakotay.

           “So many times, that story kept me going, gave me courage even in the darkest days.   I know I hurt you badly over the years and I don’t blame you for finally giving up on me.   I certainly didn’t encourage you to wait!

           “But always, deep in my heart, was the hope that when we got home, the angry warrior and the woman warrior would finally find peace together.  That didn’t happen when we returned to Earth, but maybe now it can.   Neither of us expected to be stuck here again, but our lives seem to be filled with the unexpected, don’t they?”

           Her hands stilled as she stopped speaking, then she leaned over him, her face brushing his hair.

           Chakotay sat very still, his eyes closed, well aware of the symbolism of her actions.   He could feel the heat of her body against his back.  Very slowly, his heart relaxed and peace began to creep into his soul.

           He moved to stand, then turned to face her as her hands fell to her sides.   One finger came up to trace her jaw.   “All those years, you never let me love you, Kathryn.   Now, I don’t know if I can.   I want to try to make a life with you here.   Are you willing to help me?”

           “Yes,” she breathed.

           He bent his head just enough to lightly brush her lips with his.   She responded but made no move to touch him otherwise.    Chakotay lifted his head, gazing into her eyes.   She let him see everything she felt for him, holding nothing back, trusting him.    He sighed, then reached to pull her into his arms, resting his chin on her head as he closed his eyes.    His thoughts went to Seven, and he told himself he must bid her farewell. It was time to open his heart to Kathryn.
 
End Part one
 

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