Chapter 3

TROI SMILED TIREDLY AS Captain Picard handed her a dish of ice cream. “I need this after today,” she said, spooning up a bite.

“How many people did you speak to?” he asked, then turned to the replicator. “Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.”

“About thirty,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s more than you’re supposed to see outside of catastrophic situations,” he reprimanded, taking his tea and sitting beside her.

“In a way, it is a catastrophic situation,” Troi replied. “These people have been without a professional counselor for seven full years, Captain. And they’ve been through some incredible adventures—some wondrous, some brutally tragic. They’ve been tremendously [31] isolated, and they’ve adapted by creating their own little world aboard that ship.”

“Good or bad?”

She smiled. “Very good. Captain Janeway has almost assumed the rank of a god in some eyes. And after some of the stories I’ve heard today, that designation seems quite believable.”

“Hmm,” Picard said.

“And now, with no warning, no time to prepare, to mentally ready themselves for it, they’ve achieved their goal. They made it back to the Alpha Quadrant. They’re going to be with their families in a week.” She paused. “Thank you, by the way, for recommending to the admirals that we not travel home at top speed. Voyager’s crew desperately needs the extra time to readjust.”

He nodded. “As I suspected. Do you think there will be trouble? Any former Maquis returning with fire in the belly? There was probably a lot of desire for revenge when they heard about the decimation of Tevlik’s moonbase.”

She shook her dark head and took another bite of ice cream. “No. The division of Federation and Maquis has long since faded. But I do think it likely that they might think of themselves as Voyager crewmen first, and Starfleet officers and enlisted second.”

“That could be a problem.” He leaned back, thinking. “Even Janeway, who’s a sterling example of what a captain should be, didn’t seem to fully grasp how much things had changed—though, frankly, Admiral Montgomery was unnecessarily harsh with her. It’s a shame, really. At any other time in recent history Voyager’s [32] homecoming would be the most important thing to happen to Starfleet in any given year. Now their safe return is barely a footnote.”

Troi’s large, dark eyes were somber as she regarded her captain. “Some of them are beginning to understand that. And it’s not helping their readjustment any.”

“I can imagine.” He made his decision. “Tomorrow, I want you back on Voyager for the duration of its trip back to Earth. Those people are going to need you. You have my permission to regard this as a catastrophic-level duty assignment.”

“Aye, sir.” She answered quickly enough, and he was certain that she was more than willing to help, but he also knew these next few days were going to be difficult for her.

“And Deanna,” he said, teasing gently, “it’s not going to be easy. Better fortify yourself with more chocolate.”

Janeway sat in her ready room, pondering. The days had passed more quickly than she had imagined. In sixteen hours, they would be in orbit around Earth. She and her senior staff had all been debriefed. Torres’s had taken the longest—four hours. Janeway had the dubious honor of coming in second. Everyone else had been dismissed after a half hour or forty-five minutes. Hardly enough for an extended away mission, let alone one that had lasted seven years. ...

Stop it, she told herself. What did you expect? Medals? A parade down the streets of San Francisco? Fireworks? These people are coming off a brutal war. Be grateful that you got so many home safely. You [33] didn’t do this to win praise, you did this to keep a promise—to return your crew to their families.

Her door chimed. “Come,” she called.

Chakotay entered. He was clad in his dress uniform, as was she. “It’s time,” he said.

Janeway had thought about doing this via intercom, but decided that she wanted to do it in person. So her entire crew was assembled in Cargo Bay Two. They were all clad in dress uniform. Some of them wore medals. She let Chakotay precede her, heard the tinny whistle announcing her entrance.

“Captain on deck!”

The crew snapped to attention. Janeway savored the picture, her eyes roaming from one individual to the next. This was going to be bittersweet. She strode to the front of the room and stood behind the podium.

“At ease,” she said. They relaxed. She looked at the padd she held in her hand, then carefully placed it down. Even though she had spent hours crafting the speech, she now realized she didn’t want to use it. She would speak from the heart. Her crew deserved it.

“Seven years ago, I made a decision that left this crew and this fine ship stranded thousands of light-years from everything we knew. Even then, I held a firm conviction that this day, today, would come. The day when we are but a few hours away from Earth, and from finally seeing our loved ones. We have faced many challenges, learned many things. We’ve lost some fine people. Too many.”

She paused, giving herself and her crew a moment to reflect on the sacrifices some of their number had made. The losses still ached. If she were honest with [34] herself, she’d have to admit, it would have been impossible to get every single crewman home while battling such odds. But oh, how she had wanted to. Her eyes found Icheb and little Naomi, Gilmore and Lessing from the Equinox. She smiled, heartened by the sight of their faces.

“And added some new crew members along the way. Each of you has contributed in so many ways to making this incredible journey the astounding feat it was. It has been a true honor to be your captain. I have asked and asked, and asked yet more from you, and you always continued to astonish and amaze me with your resourcefulness, your courage, and your compassion. But now, the journey is done. This unique voyage has, finally, ended. We have come home.”

Her throat closed up and she blinked hard. She reached for the padd, found the spot she wanted. “I’d like to close with a quote from the Earth author, T, S. Eliot. ‘Not fare well, but fare forward, voyagers.’ ” She looked out into the sea of faces, all known, all loved, and knew that she would miss them and this ship desperately. “May we, voyagers all, fare forward. Godspeed.”

The room erupted in applause. She saw that her mixture of pain and joy was reflected on almost all the faces of her crew. Many were weeping openly. Chakotay stepped forward and motioned for quiet.

“Captain,” he said, “if you can spare the time, the crew has a request. They would all like the opportunity to make their personal farewells to you now, while they are all still formally crew members of Voyager.”

Janeway had thought her heart full, but now it [35] overflowed. For the rest of her life, she knew, she would remember this: walking down the seemingly endless line, sharing laughter, hugs, handshakes, slaps on the back. She tried to brand every face into her brain, every word, every expression. Whatever her own new voyage held for her, it would be hard-pressed to measure up to the exquisite, painful joy of this single precious moment.

There was to be a “welcome home” dinner for all crew members and their guests held at Starfleet headquarters in San Francisco. Because this was a hugely complicated gathering to arrange at such short notice, all crew were requested not to leave the ship in order to greet family and friends until the dinner.

“This is driving me nuts,” Harry Kim confided to Paris, stalking up and down the small room like a caged animal. “Why can’t I see them?”

“Starfleet red tape. That’s one thing I haven’t missed in the last seven years,” said Paris, cooing at little Miral. She wasn’t buying it. She glared at him, then opened her mouth and wailed lustily. He rose and thrust Miral into Harry’s arms. “Here. I don’t want to let all that rhythmic, soothing pacing go to waste.”

“You’re lucky,” said Kim, cradling the baby awkwardly and almost shouting to be heard over her crying. “You got to see your dad before anyone else on this ship.”

“Yeah, but it could have gone worse,” said Paris. He grinned a little as Miral’s angry cries faded into satisfied murmuring. “And don’t forget, I’m getting to meet a Klingon father-in-law tonight.”

[36] “And how is that worse than any other kind of father-in-law?” challenged B’Elanna, coming out of the bathroom adjusting her dress uniform. “Hey, Starfleet, you’re pretty good with her. Too bad you won’t be around to baby-sit anymore.”

Kim smiled, feeling a rush of affection for both of these people. The terms he and B’Elanna had used, which had once marked their differences, had become pet names between two dear friends.

“Don’t worry, Maquis,” he said. “I hope to visit you guys often.”

“Door’s always open, Harry.” He rose and took his daughter from Harry’s arms, then turned to B’Elanna. “Showtime,” he said.

“Seven, what are you doing here?” said the Doctor, adjusting his dress uniform. “I thought that you and Chakotay would already be. at the party.”

“Commander Chakotay will be anxious for some time alone with his Maquis friends. I will not be attending,” she said stiffly. “I have come to complete the cataloguing I began earlier.” As if she were the head of sickbay and not he, Seven slipped easily into the Doctor’s chair.

“What about your aunt? Surely she’ll be there tonight.”

“I received a transmission from her. She is unwell and also will be unable to attend.” Seven’s fingers were flying over the controls, but now they paused in their frantic motions. “She has extended an invitation for me to stay with her once I am ... settled in.”

“Seven,” the Doctor said gently, “please tell me you [37] are going to accept.” Seven did not answer. “She’s the only family you have!”

“Voyager was my family,” she blurted before she could retract the statement. A blush colored her cheeks. “And now my family is dispersed. There is no purpose to my attending tonight, and these catalogues—”

“Are what we call busywork and are almost completely superfluous,” the Doctor said firmly. “And there is actually quite a vital purpose to your attending tonight.”

Surprised, she looked up at him. “What?”

“Have you never thought that I don’t have any family, either?” he said. “Oh, I’m certain I’ll soon be hugely sought-after in the medical community, with my vast store of knowledge and experience. But tonight, it’s all about friends and family. I won’t have anyone to talk to at the banquet.”

He extended an arm. “I would be honored if you would grant me the favor of your company this evening, Miss Seven of Nine.”

For a long, long moment, he thought she would refuse. He expected her to refuse, actually. But finally, an uncertain smile curved her full lips, and that smile reached her eyes.

“I will require a change of uniform,” she said.

Kim materialized in an enormous hall. Rags representing every Federation member planet hung from the high, arched ceiling. Windows that ran almost the entire length of the walls opened to the San Francisco sky, and the muted hues of twilight vied with artificial lighting for the right to illuminate this vast chamber. Soft [38] music played in the background, and more tables than Kim had ever seen in one place stretched the length of this great hall.

Kim gaped openly for a moment. He had never seen this room before; it was reserved for high ceremony. He supposed that Starfleet had, after the cursory briefings, come to the realization that Voyager rated such kudos. Quickly, though, he forgot about the opulence of the room and began scanning the crowd, looking for those whose faces he had kept in his mind for seven years.

So many people! Out of the corner of his eye, he saw big, jolly Chell squeal happily as he rushed to embrace two blue Bolians. Little Naomi, standing close beside a beaming Samantha Wildman, formally stuck her hand out to a towering Ktarian male, who gently accepted it. Vorik stood politely conversing with three Vulcans. They appeared to be strangers, but, knowing Vulcans, Kim was willing to bet they were his family.

Captain Janeway was hugging two women at the same time. One was an older woman who looked a lot like her, and the other was a little younger than she. They had to be her mother and sister.

Over there was Chakotay, his expression a mixture of joy and sorrow, as he embraced men and women who Kim assumed were fellow Maquis members. And there was the Paris family. Kim didn’t recognize the older, attractive woman, but guessed she was Tom’s mother. Standing next to them was a tall, handsome man with black hair and a dark complexion.

Harry stared. Was this B’Elanna’s father, after all these years? B’Elanna looked as if she were trying to [39] decide whether to punch the man or throw herself in his arms.

He never saw which she did, because at that moment, a beloved voice cried, “Harry! Oh, Harry!”

Harry whirled and saw an elderly Asian couple threading their way through the crowd. When their eyes met, the woman lifted a long, rectangular box over her head. He knew what it was, and tears sprang to his eyes. She had brought his clarinet.

“Mom! Dad!” he cried, and rushed to embrace them fiercely. And even as he hugged them, he saw another person he had never forgotten, despite the intervening years, the resignation at never seeing her again, and the things he had shared with other women who had entered his life. He saw a lovely face framed by curly dark hair, and large eyes filled with tears even as her mouth curved wide in a smile of joy.

Libby.

Voyager’s crew had all finally come home.