As Promised...

Captain Janeway was hurriedly moving across the full area of her ready room, readjusting and replacing the artifacts that usually lined the shelf that ran along the walls. She examined each article, glad to find that only one had actually been damaged enough to facilitate repair – her lucky teacup. The handle had been broken clean off, the flat edges of the porcelain ensuring that it could be easily fixed. She tested the powdery surface with her fingertip, her lips pressing into a thin line, then laid both pieces on her desk as she continued to put everything back into place. "Come in," she called when the door chime rang.

Her first officer walked inside, amused as he watched her move purposefully around the room. She had given him the day off as a reward for his exemplary performance during her time away, but he felt the need to check on her first thing in the morning. They hadn’t spoken since he escorted her back to her quarters the afternoon before, and his concern was only natural.

"Don’t just stand there," she told him as she blew past him, on her way to the upper level, "help me."

Her round coffee table had been thrown against the railing, and with his help they put it back into its normal, horizontal position. Chakotay found himself watching her again as she continued to work. Kathryn finally stopped and stood up straight, turning to face him when she questioned, "Are you just going to stand there and watch me?"

"Sure," he replied, his grin broad. "I could watch you work all day."

Feigning seriousness she stepped up to him, close enough that she could feel his breath on her face when she looked up. "It seems to me, Commander, that there are days that you have done nothing but watch me work."

He rested his hands on her shoulders, to test her and see if she would step away. "And just how would you know that if you were working?"

Kathryn reached up and held his cheek in her hand. "I’m just better at looking like I’m working than you are." Her eyes locked with his for a brief moment, before she turned out of his grasp and headed back down toward the desk.

Chakotay shook his head as he followed her down. "Anything broken?"

"Just this." She picked up the pieces of the teacup and turned around to show him, then sat back against the edge of the desk. "Everything else seems to be okay. You know Chakotay, the least you could have done was cleaned this place up before I got back."

His hands were clasped behind his back – his telltale, outward sign of apprehension. They hadn’t really talked since falling asleep together in this room. When they finally did make their way down to Sickbay the Doctor ordered the captain to bed, and she had pretty much stayed there until arriving for her shift on the bridge that morning. He looked around the room, noticing that she had darkened the windows so that the outline of the cube’s cavern could barely be seen now. And then she had started straightening up, rearranging items and trying to put order back into the chaos that had been thrown around the ready room.

Now he was waiting for her to drop the hammer.

He felt her eyes on him, and then realized that he had become lost in his own thoughts. She was waiting patiently, a slight smile on her lips when she softly called his name. "Sorry," he whispered. "What did you say?"

"I said that the least you could have done was clean this place up before I got back," she repeated.

He bowed his head a little as he stepped toward her. "Forgive me. I was a little preoccupied at the time." The teacup was still in her hands, forgotten as she watched him react to her comment. "Here. Let me make it up to you." He reached for the cup and took the pieces from her. She wordlessly handed them over, and he turned and headed out the door.

She watched him leave, momentarily lost. It felt like everything was happening so fast, and yet it was as slow a progression as one could ask for. As a matter of fact there was no progression at all, but there was a lot of discussion in their immediate future. For now, she busied herself with starting in on the stack of reports that were waiting in her console. Voyager had taken some serious damage in the last bout with the cube, and they all needed her individual attention.

Janeway sat back in the chair, padd in one hand and coffee cup in the other as she started to read. It was only about an hour into the engineering reports when her mind began to wander, and the memories of the cube returned. They had left her alone since her breakdown the day before – but recalling her dreams was always impossible after being medically sedated.

Janeway jumped in her chair. The sharp recollection of assimilation tubules piercing her neck for the second time was enough to shock her back into the present. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and she felt the sudden need to gulp down air. The experience left her shaking, her coffee cup long since dropped on the floor. Nervous eyes darted around the room, eventually settling on the faint lines that were still visible through the shaded windows.

Sitting there for a long while, she focused on regaining her composure. She refused to cry again. Then she activated her console and adjusted it to get the sensor feed that was being displayed on the bridge’s main viewscreen. There was a slight green tinge to the stars that shot past, but the stars were there, flying past them at transwarp speed. Kathryn sighed, falling back into her chair as she let herself get absorbed in the stars.

Mizoti walked carefully between the rows of beds that had been set up in the cargo bay, each containing a former Borg drone. She wasn’t supposed to be here – she knew that. But as usual, her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She had tried to get Naomi to come with her, but Samantha Wildman was still exercising the parental right of grounding after the girls’ last adventure together, so Naomi had things to do at home.

She examined each body in great detail, noticing scars where implants had been removed, identifying each species and cataloging them in her head. It was strange to see so many being converted back to their original organic state. It had always amazed her that former drones like herself, Icheb and Seven had managed to return to their individuality and make productive contributions to Voyager. At least it amazed her when she bothered to think about it. Most of the time she was too busy to anyway.

The young girl stopped at the bedside of a man who belonged to her own people. As she watched him, she was suddenly distracted by a bright flash of light on the other side of the cot. A tall man, looking distinctly human with his dark hair, was looking down at her with a superior attitude. "Well you’re new around here, aren’t you," he said, folding his arms over the Starfleet uniform that he wore.

She looked up at him with passive eyes and flatly said, "What is it you want, Q?"

He stopped short, her deep adolescent voice transcending time and memory. "You know, I have a friend back in the alpha quadrant who always asks in those exact words." He looked down at her again, then at the recovering drone between them. "Anybody you know?"

Mizoti shook her head. "No. But he is one of my species."

Q crouched down beside her, taking a moment to examine the patient. "Are you going to return him to your homeworld when he has recovered?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Q shook his head. "Are you sure you’ve never met Jean-Luc?" She opened her mouth, but his hand raised to stop her. "Forget it. Collective knowledge, I know." Another flash of light signaled his departure, leaving Mizoti alone in the middle of the ward.

The holodeck doors slid open with their usual heavy sigh to admit a man in search of his friend. Chakotay found himself standing in a large, well appointed study and he took a few moments to get a good look of his new surroundings. The pale walls were accented with a variety of frames, and he walked over to examine the photographs in them. A few were filled with pictures of Starfleet officers from years before, still dressed in the drab maroon uniform of the time. One was a group of officers on the bridge of a ship, toasting what was probably a maiden flight.

Each frame presented a different variety of people and animals. There was a picture of a pair of young girls under ten years old – obviously a pair of siblings – and on closer inspection he confirmed that it was Kathryn and Phoebe Janeway. A side table ran underneath it, and beside the vase of flowers in the centre was a single frame that caught Chakotay by surprise. It was Voyager’s senior staff, a copy of the photo that the Doctor had taken during the initial celebration of Ancestors Eve.

Bright sunlight streamed in through the east windows, and the sound of birds filtered in from the abundant trees a few feet beyond them. He continued to examine his way around the room, but the allure of nature, photonic as it was, was too enticing to pass up. It was a peaceful place, and he let his eyes slide closed as the sunlight warmed his skin. He stayed there until a small noise made him turn around.

She was folded neatly underneath the large cherry desk, her back tight against the panel that closed the space on the third side, and her knees pulled up to her chest. Blue eyes stared at him, but they were drowsy with fatigue. Chakotay crouched down in front of her, a bit of amusement flickering through his features. "I needed to find some comforting surroundings," she said in response to his unasked question. "Something that doesn’t look like the inside of a cube."

He nodded slowly, then moved into the space she made by sliding as far to the right as she could. It was a tight fit, but they were both able to sit shoulder to shoulder within the space normally reserved for a pair of legs. Once both were settled he did ask her, "So where are we?"

"My father’s study." Kathryn’s head fell back against the wood behind her as her eyes slid shut. They sat in silence for a while, not really feeling a need to say anything at all. But they knew each other so well that the next question didn’t even have to be spoken aloud. "I had a flashback this morning," she explained. "Spent the afternoon with Tuvok trying to work it out." Her eyes fell on the pocket of his shirt, which obviously held a secret. "Where’d you get lost today?"

He had forgotten that there had been a reason for his trip here. "I was on a mission," he told her softly. "Close your eyes."

"Chakotay..."

With a shake of his head he repeated, "Just close your eyes."

It took a few moments of silent convincing on his part, but she finally conceded to his wish. Once that was done, he reached for her hand and placed the object he had been hiding into it. He carefully wrapped her fingers around it and then whispered, "Okay."

Her eyes opened to see her restored teacup, turned upside down in her palm. On close inspection, there was hardly any indication that the handle had been snapped off. She turned it over, a tired smile gracing her features when she saw the fully bloomed rose that had been tucked inside. Her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply from it, and when she looked up again she couldn’t help but grin at the expression on his face. "It’s perfect, Chakotay. Thank you."

"You’re welcome." He watched her place the cup on the floor beside her foot. "How are you doing?"

"I’m tired," she admitted, "but a little stronger. Working with Tuvok seems to be helping, and I’m remembering more."

By the look on her face he felt safe to offer, "But that’s not necessarily a good thing, is it?"

Kathryn shook her head. "I would much rather just find a way to forget it all." She related the story of the flashback in the ready room just after he left, and how she had employed Tuvok’s help in trying to order the bedlam that had threatened to consume her then and there. "I can still feel them," she said, absently tapping the area of her neck that had been pierced in the second attack. "And if I dwell on it long enough, I can even hear the voices again." Her eyes slid shut again, and she blew a breath out through pursed lips. "The whole thing gives me a permanent headache."

"The meld or being Borg?"

She shot him a stern look. Obviously this was going to be a touchy issue. There was a moment of palpable tension, and then she decided to change the subject. "Did you know that Tom finally proposed to B’Elanna?"

"Really?" He was surprised, not to mention a little baffled, that B’Elanna would tell the captain before him. He covered his annoyance by commenting, "I was beginning to think it was never going to happen."

"Well, she was waiting for him to ask – he had to be completely ready. And it ended up happening the same night Seven discovered Unimatrix Zero, so they never got a chance to tell anybody." She saw the look he fixed her with, and she softly explained, "The Collective... It’s better than being a telepath." Chakotay was motionless, very uncertain of how to respond. "Relax," she told him. "It’s okay to laugh."

A long stretch of silence was the only response she got. It took a long time, but he eventually made his own attempt at humor when he said, "I think I’m going to need a scorecard for this conversation." She gave him half a nod, then rested her head against the desk again. "You could have called me, you know."

Kathryn didn’t look at him, but reached across to take his hand. "You’ve done so much already. I can’t keep imposing on you."

He reached over and turned her face so he could see her eyes. "It’s not an imposition, Kathryn. This isn’t asking me to take your bridge shift or to talk to the crew for you. You were assimilated." She turned away as he kept speaking, his fingers gently running over the small circles that were still visible on her neck. "I can’t begin to imagine what that’s like. But I know that I’m not going to just sit here and let the experience tear you apart."

"You can’t understand..."

"Let me try," he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t push me away, Kathryn."

She gently removed his touch from her neck and directed the gesture back toward her friend. "I know you want to help ... but I don’t know if you can."

Chakotay looked at her in disbelief. "Are you really willing to dismiss me that easily?" he carefully asked. She wasn’t able to answer him, and without another word he climbed out from under the desk and exited the holodeck. Kathryn watched him leave, but it didn’t have a real effect on her. She was once again overrun by the memories she was forced to relive that day. As she fought to maintain control over her mind, she looked to the limited amount of the study that she could see from her secluded place. The place that had been such a comfort when she was a child was turning out to be less of a comfort that she had hoped.

***

At Tom and B’Elanna’s request, Neelix scheduled a party in the holodeck a week later to announce their engagement. As many of the crew that could be spared attended, and through a great amount of coaxing Chakotay even managed to get Kathryn there for at least a few hours. It wasn’t easy though – her thoughts were firmly entrenched in the mind-numbing recollections of her time as a drone. It was obvious that she was still having difficulties working her way back to her normal life. But once convinced, she was determined to show everyone that she was absolutely fine. She was still oblivious to his hurt from their talk in her father’s study, but he was doing his best to not let it show how much it bothered him.

At one point in the evening B’Elanna actually found herself without her fiancé, which allowed her to search through the crowd to replenish her drink. She saw Chakotay from her place at the bar, and once her glass was full she ordered another and then took it over to him. "You look like you could use this."

"Thanks." He took a small sip from the glass, then eyed it suspiciously. "What is this?"

"Beats me." She shrugged and took some more of it. It wasn’t bad, but it was definitely different. "Probably Tom’s idea."

He laughed for what felt like the first time in months. "I haven’t had a chance to say congratulations yet. Though I’m sure that you could have done a lot better than Tom Paris."

She chuckled, recognizing an old pattern of banter that they hadn’t strayed across in quite some time. "Well I couldn’t wait all my life for you to make up your mind." After another sip covered her fidgeting with the waist of her dress, and she asked, "So how’s she doing?"

Chakotay scanned through the crowd, eventually spotting the captain in what appeared to be a very lively conversation with Harry Kim and Sam Wildman among others. "I’m not sure, B’Ella."

On the other side of the room, Kathryn was deep in recounting a story from her academy days. It had managed to draw a small crowd to her, and she was thoroughly enjoying herself - without any previous worries or hauntings in mind. "So just as the admiral was getting to me," she recited, her hands talking animatedly in front of her body, "his aide came running up..."

The deck suddenly shuddered beneath their feet, not hard enough to send anyone flying but enough make a few stumble. Tuvok’s calm voice came through the comm system and announced, "All personnel return to stations, senior staff report to the bridge." They all exchanged worried glances as the captain led the bridge crew out of the holodeck and to the nearest turbolift, while the majority of the remaining crew took off in the opposite direction.

The lift doors opened to admit the senior staff. She ordered, "Report," before her heel even hit the bridge deck.

"We are starting to experience hull destabilization," Tuvok informed her from his station, giving her a quick nod as she flew past him to take her chair.

"Pressure on the hull is increasing exponentially," Kim called out from his station.

"Any idea what’s causing it?" she questioned, burying herself in the reports and sensor readings that were scrolling across her console. None of it was making any sense – they were simply hanging suspended in the cavern of the cube.

Torres interjected, "Captain, it looks like the hull is being dissolved."

Chakotay noticed that Seven’s head snapped up as soon as Torres said dissolved. Janeway was still scanning through her readings, and without looking up asked, "Dissolved by what?"

"The forcefield.." Seven murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

The captain twisted around in her chair to look up at her. "The forcefield?" Seven was unaffected by the tone in Janeway’s voice, working through the problem in her head as she refined and redirected the lateral sensor array. The ship shook again, harder than it had the first time. Even though she was trying hard to disguise the fact that her patience was short these days, it had already reached its end by the time they arrived on the bridge, and so Janeway barked, "Seven!"

Harry Kim had heard Seven’s spoken thought, and had immediately started investigating the possibility. "She’s right," he reported, sending the scan results to Janeway and Chakotay’s console. "It looks like the forcefield is intentionally destabilizing the atoms in the hull. We’re starting to lose integrity."

"Will getting us out of the docking field stop the destabilization?"

Tuvok interrupted, "I believe that the best course of action would be to exit the cube until we can determine a proper course of action."

No! her mind screamed. We can’t stop when we’re this close to getting home! But cooler thinking, along with a third lurch of the ship, prevailed. This time the movement was enough to throw people around, including the captain - who got tangled up in the long length of her civilian dress as she tried to get up off the deck. "All stop. Mr. Paris, get us back into normal space," she ordered from the floor.

Cooler thinking may have prevailed, but it didn’t disguise the frustration and disappointment in her voice. Paris nearly stopped to raise his eyebrows, but instead followed though on his order with a simple, "Yes ma’am," as Chakotay helped get her on her feet.

The rapid shortening of her temper was not missed by anyone, and a tense silence settled over the bridge as they all watched the viewscreen switch back to the interior of the cavern. It took nearly five minutes for Voyager to make its way back out into normal space. "The hull appears stable," Kim reported once they were outside.

"No hull breaches imminent," Tuvok added.

Still standing in the middle of the command centre, Chakotay looked at his captain just in time to see a rise of anger through her. "Stand down red alert," she said, pausing before she turned around to face her bridge crew. "Seven?"

Even the Borg could recognize her precarious position with the captain now. Watching the bridge lighting switch back to normal gave her a chance to stall for time. "I believe that the docking forcefield was directly responsible," she said, clasping her hands behind her back. "It is designed to dissolve a ship’s remaining components once it is stripped of its technology, and convert those components into energy which is then used to fuel key systems."

Janeway gaped at her, a slight shake of her head demonstrating her disbelief. Her first officer could feel the surge within her, and he could honestly say that he didn’t blame her. He was feeling the same way. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it when she demanded, "Why didn’t you mention this before?"

Now Seven looked uncomfortable. She had never been in a situation where she needed to give the response, "The thought never occurred to me."

"Never occurred to you?" Janeway stalked across the distance that separated them. "I can accept that coming from some first year cadet, but not from the one person who feels the need to constantly point out my own imperfection." It wasn’t so much what she said, but the tone of her voice that stunned everybody into silence. "I will not allow this trip to be thwarted by the fact that somebody forgot an important detail like the possibility of being torn apart by the ship that’s taking us home." She swallowed and said, "Now I want all of you to find a solution that will get us on our way again before somebody comes along and starts taking shots at us because they think we’re Borg."

With that she stormed off into her ready room, leaving bewildered expressions in her wake. Chakotay recovered quickly, and he snapped at them, "You heard her. Get moving." Without waiting to see if they complied, he handed the bridge over to Tuvok and followed her into her ready room.

"Don’t you knock?" she growled from the upper level, obviously on her way to the replicator.

In no mood for reasoning he questioned, "What the hell was that?"

Now he had her ire. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

Janeway turned her back on him, and into the air she ordered, "Computer, remove window shading." After an affirming series of beeps, the blackened windows lightened and allowed the newly discovered stars into the room.

He was not about to be put off. "I know that you’re disappointed," he lectured, "but that’s no reason to tear a strip out of Seven."

"She was negligent," she shot back.

"How do you know that? You weren’t even conscious when we integrated the systems." He moved to join her on the upper level. "She could have just forgotten. She is human, you know."

The captain defiantly folded her arms over her chest. "Since when do you defend Seven of Nine?"

His hands rested on his hips in his own show of defiance. "I defend anybody on this ship that is being unfairly treated."

Not really in any mood for insolence she told him, "You’re out of line, Commander."

She had tried to walk past him, but he caught her elbow and forced her to stay. "Oh no you don’t."

"Chakotay..."

"You’re not going to pull rank on me here," he said, undaunted. "Now I have been patient, and it’s obvious that you want to work through your problems yourself. But you’re not working it out, Kathryn, and you’re letting it affect your job."

"There’s nothing to work out!" she protested, wrenching her arm from his grip and moving to stare out the window again. "I’m fine."

This time his voice was enough to stop her, but she kept his back to him. "You’re not fine. You refuse to let anybody but Tuvok help you, and you won’t talk to me about it. How do you think the crew is going to function when their captain can’t? We can’t put up with this for another three months. And if it turns out that we can’t use this cube to get home like we thought, I know that you won’t be able to put up with it for another thirty years."

Her anger flashed, and she spun around with her finger pointing at him as she snarled, "Now you listen to me. I ..." Unfortunately, the finger was pointing to open air. He was gone. "Chakotay?" Scanning the room, he was nowhere to be found. "Chakotay!?" She was about to storm out onto the bridge after him, but something sparked in the back of her mind. There was no logical reason for it, but she thundered, "Q!"

A flash of light signaled his appearance, a cheery smile on his face. "Yes?"

"Where is he?" she demanded, not caring how angry she sounded.

"Who, Chuckles?" Q took a minute to look her over. "I say Kathy, it’s nice to see you wearing something other than that dreary uniform."

Janeway stalked away from him, and on her way to her desk she mentioned, "You mean like yours?"

"Well what can I say? I like the classics." He snapped his fingers, and the uniform switched to a replicate set of the casual clothes that Chakotay had been wearing at the party. "What about this?" he asked, following her down to the desk.

She spared him a glance when she reached the chair behind the desk. "It doesn’t suit you."

Q shook his head. "You Starfleet people have such knack for stating the obvious."

"Then get to the point," she countered.

"It’s very simple. I’ve taken him away."

Janeway jumped out of her chair. "You what?"

He snapped his fingers and disappeared from the space in front of her desk, reappearing seated on the curved section of the couch. "I’m disappointed, Kathy. Usually Borg modifications enhance hearing, not hinder it."

She was ready to throttle him, but had presence of mind enough to stay in the lower section of the ready room. Her teeth clenched together as she warned, "Q..."

They were interrupted by the doors opening and B’Elanna Torres rushing in. "Captain, Tom just..." She stopped short when she noticed the figure seated on the other side of the room, and her teeth ground together to match her growl. "You!"

"B’Ella!" he greeted cheerfully, extending his arms for a hug.

Janeway laid an arm out across the engineer’s shoulders, stopping her before she could charge him. "B’Elanna..."

The sound of the captain’s voice was enough to plant her feet in place. She may have stopped moving, but her anger was still full force. "He made Tom disappear!"

Janeway turned to glare at her adversary, but still held Torres in place. "Q?"

"She’s right," he replied cheerfully. "I took them both."

"Why the hell did you do that?" Torres spat.

"It’s simple." He settled back into the cushions and folded his fingers together in front of him, much in the way that Tuvok usually did. "You’re not worthy of them."

Now he had both women’s undivided attention. Together they mumbled a stunned, "What?"

"You heard me." He grinned at the captain’s reaction. "Oh relax, Kathy. I haven’t hurt the big oaf."

The captain fixed him with a cold glare. "Just once I wish you would use a person’s proper name."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Oh very well. I’ve temporarily relocated Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Paris."

"To where?" Torres questioned.

His hands folded neatly into his lap. "Why Lieutenant, that would be telling."

"Why?" she questioned. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I can." He grinned when he saw Janeway’s expression. "Oh don’t look at me like that, Kathryn. I’m not one of your insipid, undereducated crew." His gaze flicked over to Torres to mock her, but then settled again on the captain. "The very simple fact of the matter is that it isn’t time for you two. Not yet anyway." Kathryn started to protest, but he lifted a finger to cut her off. Then he patted the cushion beside him, and waited patiently until she reluctantly gave in and sat down, putting as much distance between them as possible. Q added, "You’ll just have to trust me."

Torres remained at the step. "So just what does all this have to do with my fiancé?"

"I’ve sent him to protect Chakotay."

The chief engineer folded her arms across her chest, a wry smile lighting her face. "The last person in the world that needs a bodyguard is Chakotay." She chanced a glance at Janeway, who only let the slightest sign of her own grin show before she clamped it down and controlled it.

This did not go unnoticed by Q, but he decided to ignore it. "Take my advice, Kathy. Get on with your life. You’re obviously not ready." And with that he disappeared.

B’Elanna stared at the spot where he had been, then shifted her focus to her captain. Janeway sat there, her hand rubbing at suddenly tired eyes. "What did he mean by that?" she asked carefully, hoping that in light of the captains’ recent mood, that she wouldn’t be treading in dangerous territory.

"It’s a long story," was her response, along with a slight shake of her head. The other woman’s eyes lifted from her fingers. "Sorry to interrupt your party."

"It’s okay." Torres felt an instinctive need to comfort the woman who she now shared a unique bond with, not to mention the need for some comfort herself. Even after being disengaged from the Collective, they retained more knowledge of the other than they could have learned in a normal lifetime. So she walked over to the replicator and called up coffee, and then handed a cup to the captain as she sat down. "Tell me about it?"

Kathryn thought about it. Chakotay had offered his ear so many times in the last two weeks, and she had turned him down every time. As she looked at B’Elanna, she saw the years of friendship between them that had been wasted because they simply just hadn’t gotten around to it. And her self-imposed necessity for distance from her crew hadn’t helped any. She knew that they should both be working at solving the hull instability problem, but Kathryn had finally reached the point of being unable to deny the need of opening up to somebody. So the two of them ended up talking together for endless hours, stopping only when sleep threatened to overtake them both.

***

A flash of light in the middle of the room instantly drew everyone’s attention away from Admiral Harris’ droning speech about the Cardassia occupation. When the light subsided, a stunned pair of officers, dressed in black and wine colored uniforms, slowly took in their new surroundings. "What the..." The words escaped the older man’s lips before he even realized it.

The pair of them looked down from their new perch atop the conference room table to discover a full panel of Starfleet admirals staring back at them. Sunlight poured through the windows on the east side of the room, highlighting their silhouettes and casting long shadows on the opposite wall. It was early morning, and more than a few of the top brass were convinced that they were still asleep.

Tom gawked at his new surroundings, but a faint, familiar voice pulled him around in the other direction. His father had gotten up on shaking legs, and was staring open-mouthed at the new arrivals. "Dad?" he gasped, stepping to the edge of the table and crouching down to look the older man in the eye.

***

The meeting was taking place in Engineering, where Voyager’s top two miracle workers had managed to solve the question of the cube’s forcefield problem. Janeway strode in through the main doors, coffee in hand, and made a concerted effort to remain positive as she addressed them. "You have news?"

"It’s not going to be easy," Carey said, "but the only way Voyager can sit inside that cube is to be suspended in the cavern. There’s nothing to land her on, and even if there were there’s not enough gravity to hold us in place."

The captain prompted, "You said you had a solution."

Torres nodded and made her way over to a nearby console. "We’re going to have to coat Voyager with an exoskeleton. Enough material to keep the ship intact until we can find a way to disable the disintegration properties of the forcefields."

"An exoskeleton will be weeks of work," Janeway said as she reviewed the information. "Any estimate on how long disabling the forcefield will take?"

The two engineers exchanged glances. "We’re guessing at anywhere between six weeks and two months."

Janeway nodded, her expression stoic. "Get a team on it. In the meantime, we’re going to have to find a planet to collect the materials for the exoskeleton. Janeway to bridge."

"Harry, B’Elanna is going to send you a list of materials. Start scanning for any planets that have what we’re looking for. As soon as you find something, take both Voyager and the cube into warp. I’ll be on the bridge shortly."

"I’ll get the deactivation team together for briefing," Carey said, quickly disappearing into the upper level of Engineering.

"Any ideas of how we’re actually going to assemble this exoskeleton?" the captain asked as she started heading back toward the main doors.

"The best way is going to be to adhere the materials to our shields," B’Elanna said, quickly falling into step with her. "The shields will take a beating, but it should protect us in the long run."

The captain was not quite able to stop the roll of her eyes. "Janeway here."

"Acknowledged."

Once the comm line was closed, B’Elanna couldn’t help but quietly inquire, "Did you ever go talk to her?"

"No. I keep meaning to, but..." She shrugged, giving a half grin when she saw the admonishing look that Torres was giving to her. "Let me know if you need any help," she said just as she left.

"Aye captain."

***

Janeway sighed, which she thought was an odd reaction to the sound of the disembodied voice breaking the monotonous silence that had taken over the bridge for the past few hours. "Janeway here," she answered, her eyes never leaving the padd in her hand.

"Very well. Start file distribution immediately."

Kathryn stared at the viewscreen for a while, just watching the stars pass by as Voyager and the cube raced toward their new target. It looked strange not to have the green tinge of the transwarp conduit. A soft beep at her elbow let her know that all the files in the data stream that had been addressed to her were now sorted and waiting in her personal database. Her eyes floated back to the viewscreen for a few seconds more, then with pointed words she announced, "You have the bridge, Tuvok."

"Aye Captain," he responded, an eyebrow lifting slightly as he watched her pass his station and disappear into the ready room.

Another sigh filled the ready room as soon as the doors closed behind her, and Janeway absently rubbed at the back of her neck as she made her way over to the replicator for coffee. Once ensconced at her desk, she pulled up all the files on her terminal. There were a number of files containing news from home, which had been sent to all crew members. There were also letters from her mother and sister, as well as a couple from friends she had made during her time at the academy. Then there were the official communiqués from Starfleet. In the mix she spotted one from Admiral Hayes, and her brow furrowed as soon as she saw it. What does he want now? she thought grimly, forcing herself to access the file. It would probably be best to get him out of the way first.

The screen changed to a Federation emblem, which was then replaced by the admiral at his desk, just as it had been the last time. It was a pretentious setting, with flags on either side of him and a smug, holier-than-thou expression on his face – all designed to exude an unarguable air of authority with whomever he was addressing. She could remember seeing that same look, though to a much lesser degree, in her father’s messages to her near the end of his life. If they ever got home, despite the predisposition that came with the rank she reminded herself that she would never put on airs like that if given the chance.

The shifting numbers of the time index at the bottom of the screen snapped her back to the matter at hand, and she called for the computer to start the transmission again. This time she paid attention as he began his address. "Hello Captain. It was wonderful to get your last message, and to know that transmitting through the Midas Array is now a viable option for you. I hope that you and your crew are well, and we are counting down the days until you return to the alpha quadrant."

Her coffee cup hit the desk with a bang, her eyes wide as she continued to listen. "We know that you have been able to commandeer a Borg cube and that you are using its transwarp technology to get home."

Janeway stabbed at the button on the console and froze the image, gaping at the admiral’s motionless face. Then she tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to Torres."

"Torres here," came an immediate reply.

"B’Elanna, I need you to come to my ready room right away."

"You will have to make sure that you make subspace contact with the border patrols as soon as you’re in range," the admiral continued after she reactivated him, "otherwise they will immediately open fire." He paused, letting her see a smile. "I suppose you’re wondering how we know all this."

"Q," she murmured, once again finding her coffee cup. The door chime rang. "Come in."

Lieutenant Torres stepped inside and headed right for the desk. Since she already knew about the data stream, she imagined that whatever had caused the captain to summon her was going to be very important. "You wanted to see me, Captain?"

Janeway sat back in her chair, clutching her silver mug close to her stomach. "You’d better have a seat." She waited until the other woman was settled, then the captain spun the terminal part of the way around so that they could both watch it.

"I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but your first officer and helmsman appeared in the middle of a conference at Starfleet Command two weeks ago. I mean literally in the middle of a conference – they materialized on top of the table." Both women glanced to each other, and B’Elanna couldn’t quite hide her smirk. The idea of their missing men appearing on top of a conference table was almost too good for words. But the droning of the admiral’s speech pulled them back to the screen. "They were immediately taken into custody."

B’Elanna looked to her captain again, seeing that her expression was one of stone. But her eyes shimmered a little, betraying the cold exterior that Janeway was trying to convey. Torres’ thoughts were in a whirl, and she was relieved to know where Tom was. And she could almost hear the rant he would be on right now about being back in prison after all these years.

Janeway stabbed at the activation button, scowling at the now blank screen. The silence hung in the room, one mixed with relief and a great deal of frustration. "At least we know they’re safe," Torres ventured. "It’s one less nightmare I’ll have tonight."

The other settled back into her chair, letting a sigh escape as her head hit the padded rest. "But how safe would they be in prison?" Her eyes slid shut. "Damn Q anyway."

"Really Kathy, such language."

Both women whirled around and discovered Q sitting on the sofa, in the same place that he had been the last time. B’Elanna felt her anger rising, but it was tempered by the calm, if not exhausted tone of the captain sitting on the other side of the desk. With her eyes still closed, Janeway’s voice was barely more than a mumble when she declared, "This is my ready room Q, and I am king here. Understood?" She looked over to him in time to see his silent nod. Their eyes locked, and she said, "Would you excuse us, B’Elanna."

She really didn’t want to, but Torres knew better than to deny her friend the request. "Of course," she responded as she headed for the door. But just before she would have left, she turned around and shot a pointed look at Q when she told Janeway, "Good luck."

Kathryn was beyond anger, but some sadistic little side of her made her wait until the doors were closed. It was probably a good thing to keep the crew thinking that she had some fight left. But fatigue permeated every part of her body, and it was slow in responding when she made it get up and walk over to the step and the end of the railing. "So just what do you want?" she tried.

"I want to give you the homecoming you deserve. You know as well as I do that Starfleet would have arrested him as soon as you pulled into orbit. So I’ve just accelerated the process."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning," he said, adopting the tone of a parent to a misbehaving child, "that his sentence will be carried out in full by the time you get back. Then you won’t have to worry about jail time. Well not his anyway."

Her fingers absently scratched at the surface of the railing. "Why have you taken such an interest in all this?"

"Because I owe you." Almost as an afterthought he added, "And you helped end the Continuum’s civil war."

He disappeared again, leaving Janeway alone in the room and she sighed, "That’s great. That’s just great."

***

Tom looked up over the edge of the padd, seeing that Chakotay was completely engrossed in his own reading. The padds had been delivered to them first thing in the morning, a surprising gift to two convicts. He thought back to the last line of his fiancée’s letter, and he wished he knew just what was going on back on Voyager. And how many replicator rations he had just lost.

For his part, Chakotay was reading his letter with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Then again, these days he really wasn’t sure of what to expect anymore. So he read:

Chakotay chuckled to himself, reading her brief correspondence a couple of times again. It had the same effect as her message to him after she was assimilated, and bolstered his sagging outlook on the situation. He noted that she had called Torres B’Ella. Maybe she had finally let her guard down and let someone take her into their confidence.

The guard outside the holding cell snapped to attention, the slight shift of his phaser in its holder drawing the attention of the two occupants. Both men looked up from the padds just in time to see a woman giving orders to the one man security detail. Her eyes watched Chakotay and Paris getting to their feet while she talked to the guard. Then she stood and regarded the pair through the forcefield, her hands firmly on her hips. "Commander Chakotay, Lieutenant Paris ... could I have a moment of your time?"

The pair exchanged glances – no one had addressed them by their ranks since their arrival. Chakotay slowly nodded his agreement and she nodded to the guard, who deactivated the forcefield. But she did not join them inside the cell. Instead she took a step back and said, "Walk with me, gentlemen."

Paris stared at her for a moment, but Chakotay walked out as soon as she offered. Tom knew that being locked down in this cell for almost a week was getting to him, so he was obviously grateful for the respite. He quickly fell in step behind Chakotay, who was side by side with the mysterious young woman. All three remained silent until they made it outside, into the middle of a glorious day of San Francisco sun.

She quickly steered them into the vast parkland that made up a great deal of the grounds, not to mention the groundskeeper’s ego. "I hope that you haven’t been made too uncomfortable," she finally said, slowing her pace once her boots touched the grass and allowing both men to flank her. "It is unfortunate that someone felt the need to incarcerate you as soon as you arrived."

"Well we appreciate the walk in the exercise yard," Paris quipped, feeling secure and a little cocky in his attitude toward her.

"Don’t let Boothby hear you say that," she retorted with a glint in her eye. "You’ll be doing time for sure." She gestured toward a pair of stone benches that sat on the edge of a large field, which at the moment held a couple of different formations of cadets that had been treated to an outdoor session of calisthenics. The two men sat on one bench while she seated herself on the opposite, on the end nearest them, and extended her hand. "Commander Anna MacCalister." As she shook hands with each of them, she couldn’t help but smile. "It’s an honor to meet you both. Your reputation precedes you."

Her easygoing nature was infection. Chakotay looked at Paris out of the corner of his eye. "I told you your jokes would catch up to you one day." To the commander he said, "I didn’t think that the accomplishments of a couple of Maquis renegades would still be banging around Starfleet Command."

"Not at all." She settled back, crossing one knee over the other and resting her elbows on her thigh as she leant forward to speak. "I was referring to your service records aboard Voyager. We received them yesterday, along with your letters." The shock that had filled the men’s faces when she mentioned their records disappeared as soon as she brought up the letters. "I must say that Captain Janeway is very impressed with your work. And frankly, so am I."

The shocked look returned. "Not everyone around here believes that you should be locked up," she explained. "Some of us still have a conscience. As a matter of fact, Starfleet is willing to drop all charges ... and we’d like to ask you to stay with us."

"I beg your pardon?" Chakotay gasped, not trusting his ears.

MacCalister grinned. "I understand that this is all a little much. Let me back up a bit. The Federation started preparing for war two years after Voyager disappeared, but conflicting agendas constituted a lot of inaction on our part. By the time that hostilities actually began, we were caught with our guard down, moreso than anyone really realized. You know that the Maquis were wiped out by the Dominion, and I’m sure that you also know that the Founders tried to destroy Cardassia rather than let it fall into enemy hands."

Paris was edgy, and he questioned, "What has all this got to do with us?"

Chakotay had been listening intently. "Let her finish, Tom."

She looked from one to the other, the drop in her voice indicating the seriousness of the situation. "The current rumor is that there is a resistance movement developing in the former demilitarized zone, but we can’t say who they want to resist. There are no Cardassian forces left, and with the Federation occupying Cardassia and the Dominion gone back to the gamma quadrant, it just doesn’t make any sense. But we are assembling a team to investigate." She paused slightly before adding, "We want your expertise."

Now she waited for a response. Paris did not disappoint. "What expertise? We’ve been in the delta quadrant for the last seven years."

"You are one of the best pilots that Starfleet has ever produced," she told him, her warmth never leaving her as she stated facts. "This mission is of a covert nature, and as I am assembling the team it is my responsibility to get the best people for the job. And that’s you." She waited a while to let that sink in. But there was one unasked question. "The fact of the matter is that we don’t trust any of the Maquis that are currently in prison. And more to the point, they don’t trust us. Your service to Captain Janeway is more than enough proof of your loyalty to her, and in turn to the Federation."

Chakotay rubbed absently at his chin, lost in thought just for a second. "So basically this is a test." Then he looked up at her, a slight look of amusement on his face. "You’re very good at this game."

Her head bowed a little when she laughed. "The Bureaucratic Wonder Child. That’s what the press called me when I first started making waves with the Federation council." She looked up at him. "It was simply absolutely unheard of for a mere ensign to be asked to advise the Council."

"I think I read something about you," Chakotay replied, putting the face with the name. "MacCalister. Made Commander faster than anyone in fleet history."

She nodded. "The one and only." Her smile faded, replaced by a professional demeanor that betrayed her real age as she started to pace. She could have fit in with any board of admirals, with her hands behind her back and her traveling area confined to a small circle. "Your choices are these, gentlemen. If you decide to cooperate with us, you will be fully reinstated with your current ranks intact. Once this mission is completed, you will be put back into regular duty postings should you wish to stay."

"And if we refuse..." Paris prompted.

"Well, then Starfleet will honor its original agreement with you, and you will be free to go." MacCalister’s attention shifted to the other man. "Unfortunately, Commander Chakotay will be court-martialed and most likely given a ten year sentence for treason."

"It seems unlikely that anybody would be willing to help us when Admiral Hayes is so obviously willing to incarcerate," Chakotay commented, peering across the field as he said it. Then he stared back up at her. "And I suppose your motives here are purely philanthropic."

"Nope." The young woman stopped, following the formation on the field that was now running off toward the barracks. "One of my motives is absolutely selfish." She turned around to face them. "You see, I am Captain Janeway’s niece."

Chakotay’s eyes squinted as he regarded her, while Paris’ wandering attention snapped back to the matter at hand. He said, "There is no way that you’re her niece."

"Her sister married my father five years ago." MacCalister’s ever-present grin returned. "Funny how family works, huh?" Her hands clasped together loosely at her waist and she informed, "You have until 0900 Wednesday morning to inform me of your decision. Until then you are free to roam, as long as you stay in San Francisco. If you want to talk to me, you can contact me through Admiral Grier’s office." She gave them a short nod, then headed back in the direction of the headquarters building.

Paris looked to his companion, who still seemed to be deep in thought. "What do you think?"

Chakotay straightened his spine, drawing a deep breath into his lungs. "I think you got a better deal than I did." Paris chuckled, and Chakotay said, "I don’t really see what choice I have."

***

"The relay from the cube is up and functioning," Ensign Kim reported, unable to keep the non-professional grin off his face. "We’re ready."

"Very well," Janeway responded, rising to step up to the front of the command centre. "Open a transwarp channel. Target the same coordinates from which the communication through the micro-wormhole originated."

Tuvok announced, "Channel open."

She swallowed, licking her lips before she hailed, "Starfleet Command, this is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the U.S.S. Voyager. Please respond."

The reply was almost immediate, though the picture was tinged in green – just as it had been when the Borg Queen had contacted them two months before. A somewhat haggard looking lieutenant was manning this particular channel, and his eyes widened at the sight of the woman who had practically become a Starfleet legend despite her absence. "Captain Janeway? Voyager? Is that really you?"

"It is," she confirmed, watching with some interest as he waived someone over and whispered an order into the blonde woman’s ear. "To whom do I have the pleasure?"

Janeway smiled, the first genuine smile in what seemed like ages. "Well it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Barclay."

"And – and you as well, Captain." True to form, he stammered over his words when nerves momentarily got hold of him. "My assistant is just getting someone for you to talk to."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Well as much as I appreciate it, I’m glad we’re getting to talk. We’re all very grateful for your diligence with the Pathfinder Project."

Though it was hard to tell through the unclear transmission, the entire bridge crew did not miss the blush that crept into his cheeks. Then a message flashed across his terminal beside the screen, and he said, "They’re ready for you now." And without another word, the screen reverted to a Federation logo on black.

Janeway exchanged glances with Torres, who simply shrugged and said, "Well he’s just a little nervous."

The captain nodded, but the viewscreen activated before she could agree. There were no less than seven different admirals staring back at them, the full compliment of the fleet’s upper echelon. The head of Starfleet Command sat in the centre of them all, wearing the typical authoritative stance of brass. "It’s good to see you, Captain," Nacheyev stated calmly.

"Thank you, Sir." Voyager’s captain surveyed the admiralty before her. Grier, Hayes, Connolly, Paris, Bullard and T’Mari filled the rest of the picture, playing a full range of emotions among them. But the two main women of the communication filled only a few minutes of small talk before the captain requested, "Would it be possible to speak with Commander Chakotay or Lieutenant Paris?"

"I’m afraid not," Nacheyev told them, but said nothing more.

Janeway could tell that she had hit a sore spot, noticing that Hayes was particularly discontented. "May I ask why, Admiral?"

"Chakotay and Paris have been recruited for an assignment," came the unexpected answer. "It is of a highly classified nature. I’m afraid I cannot tell you any more than that."

A feeling of dread settled over the bridge, and the communication quickly ended after that. Everyone knew that ‘highly classified’ was code for extremely dangerous. As Janeway sank into her chair the only thought that occupied her mind was, Damn you, Q.