Warning: Nothing serious...Romance, thought...implied consentual sex.
Disclaimer: Paramount and Pocket books own the following characters--with the possible exception of Admiral John Matthews...
Prologue
Message in a Bottle, and Hunters Scene Additions.
A quick note: The notification (prologue) scene was originally written to be part of the last chapter of Voyages of Discovery, but I've since decided that I won't be writing that.
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Phoebe glanced quickly at her mother before going to the door. She hadn't been surprised when her mother had called the previous night to tell her to be in Indiana in the morning. No explanations given...Phoebe had obeyed; still hoping against hope.
The young woman opened the door as she contemplated the many possibilities. But only one had explained the arrival of the Admiral's shuttle outside.
Gretchen slowly moved to the window. She stared at the Admiral's shuttle and his pacing aide with unseeing eyes--her thoughts far away. She turned when she heard Phoebe's voice announce the arrival of Admiral Matthews.
"Hello John," Gretchen said quietly.
Admiral John Matthews shifted his weight as he acknowledged her greeting. "Hello Gretchen...Phoebe." He'd known the family a long time. Long enough to know that he couldn't give this job to one of his staff...No matter how much he hated to be the one to tell them. He took a deep breath.
Phoebe looked at her mother, then the Admiral. "It's Kathryn, isn't it." Not a question.
Gretchen put her arms around her daughter. "Yes." She'd been aware for several days that something was wrong. She'd seen the signs before--from both sides. Watching her husband as he had prepared to tell a family that a loved was dead...And then when they had come to tell her about her husband...She bit her lip trying not cry...at least not yet.
Matthews stood straighter--gods how he hated this part of the job. It didn't get easier with practice either. He resisted the need to run his hand through his graying hair. "Mrs. Janeway, Ms. Janeway, I regret to inform you that Captain Kathryn Janeway and her entire crew vanished six weeks ago." He didn't speak for a second. *Vanished without a trace.* There was always room for hope in such cases...A hope that so rarely came true. It was easier for all involved if there was a body--it brought closure. "Star Fleet has declared her and her crew missing-in-action."
Phoebe sagged slightly as she whispered, "What happened?"
The Admiral didn't look at the pair, "She was on a mission in the badlands..." The mission was still classified.
"The badlands?" Phoebe asked, "Cardassia?"
"There is no evidence of Cardassian ships having been in the vicinity at that time. Voyager just vanished. We've been looking for almost four weeks now." He lowered his voice. "And we have good evidence that Cardassia was not involved. Our intelligence sources have reported that the Cardassians know nothing..." He shouldn't have told them that, but he couldn't leave them thinking the Cardassians had somehow captured the ship and the horrors that entailed.
Gretchen stared at a family portrait on the far wall. "Thank-you John."
"Gretchen," He hesitated a second. "Star Fleet will be convening a board-of-inquiry in San Francisco in two weeks."
"We'll be there." She turned and placed a hand on his shoulder, a sad smile on her lips. "Please let us know if..." She again bit her lip.
He started to say something, but didn't. Admiral Matthews left quietly. Eventually they would be asking more questions. He only hoped that by then he had some answers.
Several minutes later Phoebe spoke in a hoarse whisper. "Mark?"
"He's coming tonight. It will be in the press tomorrow." Gretchen turned and walked away; her daughter watched as she started to weep.
...Not alone anymore...
A simple statement, yet sixty-thousand light-years from home it meant so much.
Kathryn Janeway looked up from the PADD she had been reading before thoughts of the Alpha Quadrant had interrupted her official log.
So much had happened in the past...She looked at her chrono...In the past few days--that she was still dizzy from the ups and downs; and excitement. Star Fleet knew they were alive. By now their friends and families would know...
Mark...She looked at the picture that was lying on her desk. She had quietly put it away about two years ago...Before New Earth. She had dug the picture out of the box-she-had-packed-it-in just a few hours ago. It didn't offer her the answers she sought. She wasn't sure how she felt about Mark anymore. She would always have a soft spot in her heart for him--love him as a friend...But no longer as a lover...
No, she had to admit. Not anymore. She hoped that he had gone on with his life, it would make the guilt seem less.
"I hope you've taken good care of my dog," she smiled sadly as she looked back at the PADD. "Computer, resume log."
At the affirmative chirp, she started speaking, "Not all the news the Doctor brought was good. The Federation is at war with the Dominion (a species she had never heard of; and there was only a small amount of information in the computer). He wasn't given much information to bring back to us, but he'd heard hints of Cardassian involvement. Considering everything, I've asked that he not tell anyone else about that. No point in starting a rumor, until it is proven true--or not..." Again she sat back and let her mind ramble.
The Maquis on board...It had been a long time since she'd thought of them as Maquis...How would they react?
And how would Star Fleet react...The Doctor had told them of the Maquis serving on Voyager...there had been no official comment on that...Yet...
Well, no matter what Star Fleet might say, she could not--would not--get rid of her Maquis crew...They would keep their positions.
"We still have sixty years of travel--unless there is another miracle." She paused. "Computer, delete last sentence from log."
...No longer alone...
Another scene remembered from just months earlier--Chakotay had told her she wasn't alone...Then hours later she had thrown those words back at him. The memory still hurt...
And there was still a wall. Their relationship had improved since that day. It was almost normal--almost...The friendly camaraderie was missing still in their private lives...The unspoken parameters were not working...Could they enter a relationship and still command a ship...She was torn...She knew (or was that hoped) he still loved her.
She closed her eyes tight, willing everything that phrase evoked to disappear...but it didn't.
She sighed. It had happened a long time ago--possibly even the moment she'd first met him, her angry warrior.
Chirip.
"Bridge to Janeway."
"Janeway here." She smiled at First-Officer's voice.
"Captain, we've completed long range scans and have detected only the one Hirogen ship." She almost laughed at his careful pronunciation of their new enemy's name.
"Very good Commander, maintain tactical alert. Janeway out." She looked back at the PADD. "Computer resume log..."
The Doctor glanced around sick-bay again, trying to decide whether he should skin Lieutenant Paris or have him clean the place with his tongue.
Paris squirmed slightly. "Doctor..."
"Lieutenant, when you are working in *MY* sick-bay, I expect you to maintain at least some standards. Though I would settle for just maintaining the records. You mention seven people visited sick-bay while I was on my away-mission. Yet, there is nothing in the record except the briefest of comments. Heartburn? Lieutenant, you need to be specific...Like who were the patients? Lieutenant..."
Tom interrupted. "Doctor, I didn't ask to be here. I'm a pilot, not a medic...If you don't like my work, maybe you should find a someone else..."
The Doctor glared at him for several seconds, "Romulans are easier to deal with than you. I will take your request under advisement. There must be someone on this crew who would do a better job...Dismissed Lieutenant." He didn't bother to watch the young man leave, Instead he picked up his PADD and reread the contents.
His personal log of the events on the Prometheus...including everything that had happened and been said; his opinions and comments on those events. Even those things the Captain had asked him not to mention to his crewmates and weren't included in his official report.
He'd pulled up the little information they had on the Dominion--he still had no idea who they were and why Cardassia would align themselves with them.
He sighed. And what would happen to him if they got back...The Mark-Two was a newer model, a bumbling idiot perhaps--but there was hope that it would improve...
Would Star Fleet even want him???
Chakotay looked at his acunah and shook his head. He wouldn't be contacting his spirit guide this evening. Carefully he replaced the items in his bundle--stopping only when he came to his most precious item. A thin strand of braided auburn hair.
Hers. He'd kept some from their time on Hanon. He rubbed it between his fingers, and smiled wistfully.
He wondered with a twinge of jealousy what her letter to Mark said. Did she still love him?
"Get a grip on yourself..." He wondered if she had noticed his reactions earlier...
He concentrated on the memory of her on the bridge just the other day. He smiled, something about the way she had flirted (yes, flirted he retorted to himself) with him.
Recently they were spending time together again. A quiet working dinner going over evaluations, a round of pool. She seemed to be more relaxed than she had been in...He stopped to think...In about a year.
A year ago she'd written that letter...What had she said? That they wouldn't be getting home? He put the hair away in the pouch. Was that realization why she'd become harder--to force herself to still believe, to hide the fact that she didn't. "Kathryn...You push yourself too much." He feared that one day she might push herself over the edge.
Well, nothing was going to get done if he remained sitting, he figured. Like the analysis from the astrometric lab...
Which lead to another problem...What were they going to do with Seven?
Phoebe looked at her mother. Gretchen Janeway had aged a lot in the years since that day almost four years earlier. The younger woman was still in disbelief. "Alive?" She whispered finally.
Gretchen nodded. "I don't know what to think. It's a miracle." She was...she couldn't describe the feeling. To learn that a daughter thought dead was alive; but unless a second miracle occurred would probably not return home--was numbing...overwhelming
Phoebe looked over at the family picture, still on the wall. "Is she all right?"
"According to John she's fine. Phoebe..." She paused, her tone ominous.
"Mother?" Phoebe studied her parent carefully. There was more...and it wasn't good.
"Her ship was pulled into the Delta Quadrant. They are alive...but..."
Phoebe felt the happiness she had felt at her sister's remarkable reappearance fade..."But?"
Gretchen sobbed, "They're sixty-some years from home...We'll never see her again. They may never get home." Phoebe embraced her mother and they cried for several minutes.
Later in the day, after Gretchen had decided to lie down, Phoebe reread the too-brief message Star Fleet had sent. She did smile at the revelation that Kath had incorporated the Maquis into her crew. Star Fleet command might not like that--but it was definitely something her sister would do.
Dear Kath,
My god to hear you are alive after almost four years. Alive yet so far away. The message we received from the Admiralty was not very informative--just a note saying they had heard from you, you were alive...and some of the circumstances surrounding what happened.
We've been told that we can send a message and you may respond. I want to know everything that has happened to you. And I do mean everything. What's it like? Don't let mom see this, but somehow I can see you enjoying yourself. Strange new worlds to explore. To be the first humans to see the Delta Quadrant, to study it.
After all the news about the war, the news-media were thrilled to find something that was not related--good news so to speak. You've become a hero. And the man you selected to be your First Officer--the Maquis Captain. Is he really as good looking as his picture suggests?
I know, all-business-Kathryn probably hasn't even noticed.
If you're worried about Mark...don't be. He promised that he would send a message. He was pretty shook up by your *death.* But life goes on. I don't think you'll be surprised to learn that he was married four months ago. You'd like his wife, she works in his department and likes dogs. He found homes for all the puppies...He kept one. Just a week before we learned that you were alive--she, Kathryn's Pride, was named Grand Champion at the Westminster Kennel Show. I hope he remembers to send you a picture...I can't find mine.
Me? I finally married Tom Wells--you remember him. You said he looked like a gerbil. Well he's my gerbil now. We're expecting our first child in three months. You don't mind if we call her Kathryn, do you?
I could go on and on, there is so much to fill you in on. And not enough time or space.
I wish you all the best...That some day we meet again.
And Kath--find time for yourself. Even in the Delta-Quadrant there has to be more to life than being Captain. (Perhaps your handsome First Officer can help?) Don't frown at me...I just know you are.
Your loving sister,
Phoebe
PS I just received a commission to paint a mural at the Rigellian University. I have to have the preliminary sketches done by the end of year.
The holodeck was a noisy, joyous, yet there was a strong element of sorrow perceptible to anyone who looked for it. The smiles that suddenly faded to frowns, the occasional tears...The feeling that the crew was hiding behind a mask-of-joy.
Neelix looked around--more than most people he was aware of this duality in moods. The extreme joy of having loved ones know you were still alive and the other side--letting them go. He studied Samantha in particular. The young woman had her own monsters, she was torn about her husband--they hadn't been married very long when Voyager had disappeared, and now there was Naomi. The young ensign had talked to Neelix several times...So had several others. All torn about what to write their friends and families. *Hi I'm alive, but 60 some years from home,* was true but depressing. *Please wait for me,* seemed cruel to everybody involved too. And now, those messages were not going to be sent.
Neelix turned his attention from Samantha to Janeway. He'd been watching her carefully, wondering. For four years he'd (actually everybody) had watched her draw closer to her First-Officer. Theirs was a relationship that went beyond the normal bounds of command. He smiled as he moved his attention back to the buffet table. He would need to replenish the pizza soon.
Kathryn looked around the room again; before looking at B'Elanna again. "And you?"
The young Klingon engineer shook her head. "I don't know. I wasn't expecting anything from my mother...I wouldn't be surprised if Star Fleet hadn't been able to find her..."
"I mean your friends..." Kathryn's voice was quiet.
"The Maquis...I feel guilty. I'm alive, they're dead..."
"If you want to talk?"
B'Elanna smiled sadly. "Thanks, Captain." Her face brightened slightly as Tom joined the group.
He handed the two ladies a glass of some purplish-liquid. "Whatever it is, it isn't bad." He looked around the room. "Someone should tell them this isn't a wake..."
Janeway laughed slightly. "But it is Tom...A good Irish wake. A celebration to life. Our lives, the lives of friends gone..." Her voice trailed off. Friends gone--married. She'd hoped Mark had gone on with his life--and now to discover he had. She pushed those thoughts out of her head and glanced around the room. She raised her glass of purple-liquid. "Listen up." The noise lessened. "I'd like to propose a toast. To Voyager. And to a wonderful crew. To friends past and present...And to future ones." She added as an after-thought. There were a few chuckles. "May we live long and prosper."
There was a somber silence. Then someone started singing.**
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
Kathryn felt two hands rest on her shoulders as the few of the crew who actually knew the next couple of verses continued singing, while those who weren't too teary-eyed joined in for the chorus.
"How you doing?" Chakotay asked quietly.
"I'm indestructible."
He laughed. "I've heard that from a very good authority..."
"Commander..." She smiled slightly. "...You see..." She turned to stare straight at him, locking her eyes with his. "I don't know how I feel about this..." She whispered.
"Neither does anybody else. We're all confused, surprised, stunned...joyful...unsure of what is happening."
She stepped forward, stopped, then quickly turned away. He'd always had a better understanding for what the crew was feeling. And what she was feeling--even when she didn't want anyone to know.
"Kathryn?"
She didn't answer immediately. "What about you?" She finally asked.
He shrugged. "I don't have much family left. A cousin in Ohio, an Aunt I believe in England...So few friends left. Basically what I have left in the Alpha-quadrant is what Star Fleet gives me...us."
"Star Fleet...I've had to disregard many regulations..." She smiled as she looked back at him. "I'm not sure how they will...like some of the choices I've made."
"We've made. Kathryn, you are not alone...You were never alone." His smile broadened. "Even when we' disagree, you aren't alone." He longed to reach out for her, to hold her...To explain the other side of that statement. Instead he stood still and just watched her.
"Life isn't that easy. We don't always get what we want..." She frowned. "Don't worry, I have no intention of not getting my way with Star Fleet about the Maquis."
"I wasn't..." He said with a grin. "I've seen Kathryn Janeway face down even greater foes than a few dozen Admirals and politicians." He held out his hand, "Would you care to dance?"
The singing had stopped, to be replaced by the sounds of the holo-band. Several couples started swaying to the music, including Tom and B'Elanna.
Kathryn hesitated a split second, then agreed.
She sat on her bed, rereading her letters. She felt guilty at having received two, when so many had received none. Kathryn reread the one from her sister with a smile. "I've noticed, Phoebe. Trust me. I've noticed."
TBC