chapter 1

 

 

The forty-third birthday of Captain Kathryn Janeway was, to most of the crew of the U.S.S. Voyager, a perfect excuse for a celebration. For over two weeks they’d been trapped in a new version of hell, a spatial void populated only by the ships that had been pulled in and subsequently preyed on each other for scarce resources. Somehow the captain had formed an alliance with a few of these ships, keeping her crew alive and intact in a frighteningly hostile environment. And somehow B’Elanna Torres and Seven of Nine had pulled a rabbit out of a hat, their engineering skills enabling an escape that all the residents of the void had said was impossible.

So the surprise birthday party was a great opportunity to blow out the stress and fear of the prior weeks, and most of the crew jumped at the chance it provided. It lasted for hours, long past the time that the captain had actually been in attendance. Those who were fortunate enough to be in on the actual moment of surprise reported to their friends that the captain had been speechless. It was also reported that she had only stayed a few minutes beyond the time that her wife had left. At this point in the gossip, winks and elbow nudges were usually exchanged. “If I had something waiting for me that looked like that, I’d have gone home too,” was the most common observation.

When Janeway and Hamilton had first gotten together, it had taken the crew some time to become accustomed to their captain having a personal life at all. Once they’d adjusted, however, most of them approved. If Lynne Hamilton made Captain Janeway happy, then they all benefited.

In the last year, however, Hamilton had earned the approval of the crew on her own merits. She’d defied Janeway and rescued B’Elanna Torres from the Tsian homeworld, apparently saving her from death by a margin of hours. Then, when Captain Janeway had been imprisoned on Dakmor, Hamilton had torn Commander Chakotay a new asshole in front of the entire bridge crew. That particular scene had electrified the gossip circuit; no one had ever heard of such a thing happening on the bridge. Then she’d gone down to the planet with Commander Tuvok and brought the captain back. And just last month she’d sealed the deal by taking vengeance on the scum who’d beaten the captain during the Arnett takeover. Rumor had it that she’d sent them back to their ship in bloody little pieces. The captain had suspected something and for a while she’d been like a tiger with its tail in a twist, but not a single member of the crew was willing to say a word. Hamilton was one of their own now, and under their protection.

Janeway had never found out about the beatings, and Voyager’s crew congratulated themselves on protecting the captain from herself. She was such a stickler for protocol that they knew she’d have thrown her own wife in the brig. As it was, the outrage done to their captain was avenged, the avenger paid no price for her actions, and all was well. The events served to bond the crew even more closely; there was nothing like a shared secret to bring people together. Now they could nudge and nod and comment on how Janeway had practically chased after Hamilton the night of her birthday party.

It must be nice, they agreed, to have such a perfect marriage.

 

 

-----

 

 

“Bring us out of warp, Mr. Paris. Ahead one-half impulse.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The star streaks slowed and vanished, becoming stable points of light once again as Voyager entered yet another star system. Janeway watched the main viewer with a sense of detachment; they’d done this so many times in the past three weeks that she couldn’t muster up much hope for this one.

Since their escape from the void, replenishment of their stolen food stores had become the number one priority. They’d stopped at every single planet in or near their path that looked even remotely likely to have compatible food stocks, which meant they hadn’t exactly been setting speed records in their travels. But for all of the time they’d spent scouting, the returns were discouragingly small. This area seemed to be home to a large number of plant species that were indigestible by humans, so while they managed to collect a few things for some of the other species represented on Voyager, the food stores for the larger human complement were still too low for comfort.

The suitability of foodstuffs could never be determined from orbit, so away teams were sent to scout each likely planet—and Lynne was now a regular member of those teams. Since her transfer to personal escort duty she’d never gone planetside unless she was with Janeway, but that changed the day she broke her hand. Janeway had reversed her previous obstructionist position, having been thoroughly shaken by what her manipulations had cost them both already. She was determined not to make the same mistake again, and she certainly couldn’t deny that Lynne was qualified and more than willing. Since Janeway herself wasn’t going down, Lynne was freed up for other duties and was delighted to take part in the away missions.

It was hard to be on the bridge when Lynne was planetside, but Janeway was adapting. She’d finally accepted that she had been doing Lynne a disservice by worrying about and protecting her to such an extent; after all, she was now as well or better trained than anyone else on the team, and her biology background came in handy on missions such as these. To continue holding her back from such duties would certainly be perceived at some point as a negative commentary on her abilities, and Lynne didn’t need anything approaching a vote of no confidence from her wife. They were still recovering from their last misstep.

As Voyager cruised toward the third planet in the system, Janeway leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs and thought again about how much their relationship had changed in the last several weeks. The night of her birthday had been a revelation. Lynne had already forgiven her, but that night she’d assured Janeway in both action and word that they would come out of this better than before. They weren’t there yet, but they’d made a lot of progress, and Janeway had felt more hopeful than she had since the day she’d seen those damned bruises on Lynne’s stomach. The night sweats had completely disappeared and the nightmares were down to one or two a week; more than either of them wanted but still a vast improvement. Revi had continued to assure them that it was normal and that Lynne’s subconscious would eventually catch up. Lynne had asked that Janeway wake her up when a nightmare hit; she didn’t like the idea of Janeway lying awake while she simply rolled over and went back to sleep. So Janeway would nudge Lynne fully awake when she heard the telltale sounds of distress, and they would hold each other in the darkness. It turned out to be a far better solution: Lynne had the immediate, conscious reassurance that Janeway was still there, and for her part Janeway found it possible to go back to sleep when Lynne curled around her and snuggled in.

It was during one of those times, when Janeway had pulled Lynne out of her nightmare, that Lynne startled the hell out of her by asking for her forgiveness.

“For what?” Janeway had asked.

“Everything,” said Lynne. “Making the wrong choice, breaking my promise to you, putting you second when my first loyalty should always be to you. Kathryn, it’s taken me this long to realize that the worst crime I committed wasn’t beating up the Arnett. It was not trusting you.”

Janeway had rolled over, called up low lights, and studied her wife’s face. After a long silence, she admitted, “That hurt. A lot.”

“I know. I mean, I know now.” Lynne had reached out to caress her face, then dropped her hand and intertwined their fingers. “Tuvok led me through a meditation exercise today. He gave me one question to explore. It was, ‘How do you make an impossible choice?’ And when I turned my subconscious loose on that one, it came up with the choice I made about not telling you. I chose to protect B’Elanna instead of keeping my marriage vow to be open and truthful with you. It was an impossible choice, because I was betraying someone no matter what I did.”

When she’d fallen silent, Janeway had prompted her. “So what did you decide in your meditation?”

“That’s the part I’ve been trying to screw up my courage to admit.” Lynne had paused, squeezed her hand, then continued in a very quiet voice. “That night, after I broke my hand, you said you were still having a hard time separating Kathryn from the captain. I think my problem is just the opposite. I have you too separated. I made my impossible choice by seeing you as the captain, not Kathryn. And that made it easier to protect a friend from what I saw as an unfair judgment. But it wasn’t fair to you…it wasn’t fair to Kathryn, the woman I made a promise to. I broke that promise. I thought it was what I had to do, but it wasn’t. It was wrong. I was wrong.”

She’d picked up Janeway’s hand and held it against her face, whispering, “Can you forgive me? For not learning from the last time I did this, and for treating you as anything less than the most important thing in my life? Because you are the most important thing in my life, Kathryn. I need you to believe that. Even if I’ve done a shitty job of showing it.”

Her words had shattered a wall that Janeway hadn’t even known she’d built. All of her own pain suddenly surfaced; the pain she hadn’t let herself feel because she’d been so convinced of her own wrongdoing. She’d thought she had no right to be hurt. But now Lynne was saying she did, and apparently that was all her heart needed to break itself wide open.

“I want to believe that,” she’d said, her voice trembling with her emotion. Lynne had immediately rolled on top of her, sliding her hands under Janeway’s shoulders and holding her in a tender embrace as she’d covered her face with soft kisses, whispering assurances and apologies over and over. They’d both cried, and then they’d made love in such a gentle manner that it felt more like a healing than lovemaking.

That night Lynne had turned the corner. She hadn’t had a nightmare since, and it had been eight days. Eight wonderful days followed by eight wonderful, sleep-filled nights. And their relationship was better than ever. A little less shiny and new, perhaps, but far stronger for it.

There had been one other change in her personal life as well, dating back to that frightening evening when she’d thought Lynne might actually leave. Revi’s presence during her soul-baring admission to Lynne had made her normal reserve somewhat pointless; how could she maintain any walls with her friend after that? For her part, Revi had opened up to an astonishing degree, as if finally speaking of her lost wife had torn down her last barrier as well. Their friendship had undergone a fundamental alteration, to the point where Janeway occasionally had to remind herself of Revi’s rank. She viewed her CMO as an equal in every other way.

The conversations she’d had with Revi after that night had filled in so many blanks. She understood why Revi had never talked about her parents, why she had felt so undeserving of any kind of happiness, and why she’d fought so hard against letting Seven into her heart. It amazed Janeway how little she’d really known her friend until recently—Revi had mastered the trick of revealing just enough to get someone else talking, and Janeway had been just as susceptible to it as anyone else. She felt honored by the trust Revi placed in her, and Revi said she felt the same way.

Just three days ago they’d talked about the night Revi had woken her up and laid into her regarding Lynne’s handling of the Arnett, and Janeway had admitted her own shock that she’d actually allowed it. “If anyone else on Voyager had tried that, they’d have been scraping plasma relays with their fingernails for a week,” she’d said. Then she’d done something she could never have previously imagined herself doing, and told her that she wanted to separate their friendship from her command. “I need you, Revi,” she’d said. “I need someone who has the right of friendship; the right to do what you did. We may not always agree, and I may still throw you out on your ear, but I need someone besides Lynne that I can’t intimidate.”

“You can’t intimidate Seven,” Revi had said.

“True. But as much as my relationship with Seven has changed, you and I both know—and I think Seven does too—that I simply couldn’t accept from her what I can from you.”

“She knows, Kathryn. She’s grateful for how your relationship with her has grown, but she understands that you and I have something different. And Kathryn,” she’d said with an earnest look on her face, “I need you, too. I need someone who can call me on my own bullshit. Seven sees right through me, of course, but she still has a lot to learn about humanity and sometimes she doesn’t realize that I’m being an idiot. I think she and I both need you.”

“Well then, I’d be honored to call you on your bullshit.”

“And I’ll be honored to call you on yours,” Revi had said, quickly adding, “Not that it will happen more than once a year, I’m sure.”

Janeway smiled at the memory, then refocused on the task at hand. They were nearing their next target. “Helm, adjust course to one eight six mark four and slow to one-quarter impulse,” she said. Seven had already calculated the vector of their approach in order to avoid the planet’s surveillance satellites. This was a mostly agricultural, pre-warp civilization, but with enough technology to require care on their part. Today’s away mission was going to be a bit more challenging than the others.

They slowly approached the planet, and out of the corner of her eye Janeway could see Seven’s fingers flying over her science station control panel. A minute later those hands went still and Seven turned, holding herself in that classic military at-ease position that still characterized her despite so many recent changes.

“Captain, my scans are complete,” said Seven.

“Excellent. In that case, Mr. Paris, take us behind the primary moon.”

“Aye, Captain.” Tom smoothly altered course, and in minutes they were parked behind the planet’s moon, out of observational range. Janeway rose from her chair, glad to have something else to do.

“All right, people. Senior staff meeting in five minutes.”

Seven made her presentation at the meeting, and although as usual they couldn’t be sure about the compatibility of the foodstuffs, Janeway was beginning to have a good feeling about this one. Her optimism took a welcome swing upward.

“It’s the best thing we’ve seen yet,” she said when Seven retook her seat. “But we’ll have to be careful. Prime Directive protocols apply, so everyone on the away teams will need to report to sickbay for surgical alteration. The good news is, I hear facial ridges are fashionable in this sector.”

The staff laughed, and Janeway took a moment to gaze around the table at their faces, seeing the anticipation there as they planned the mission. Beaming to a populated, pre-warp planet for reconnaissance and food collection was a challenge they seemed to be looking forward to. She smiled to herself, proud of her crew. Far from being demoralized by their latest setbacks, they seemed to be energized by the prospect of completing their mission while blending into an alien culture.

Having allowed Chakotay to lead most of the prior missions, Janeway decided that this time she would lead one of the two teams beaming down, which automatically added Lynne to her team. She put Harry Kim at the head of the second team. His promotion normally came with a concurrent increase in responsibility, so she took advantage of the few opportunities she had to give him some growing room.

There were two major cities on the planet; her team would beam to the northernmost one while Harry’s took the one on the continent nearer the southern pole. Each team would assess the digestibility and nutrition of the various food stocks, comparing their findings before deciding on the next step. Such assessment was normally done by a ship’s medical officers, and the Doctor was quite pleased to be assigned to Janeway’s team. But Revi was out of contention for this mission, since no amount of cosmetic surgery could ever hide her Borg past; instead Janeway assigned Tom Paris to Harry’s team. It would be interesting, she thought, to see how Harry and Tom handled the power dynamic on this mission.

After the meeting the away team members went directly to sickbay for their cosmetic surgery. Janeway stayed on the bridge a little longer, giving a few more details to Chakotay before heading out for her own surgery. When it was done she went back to her quarters to change clothes and pick up Lynne, finding herself looking forward very much to seeing what her wife thought of her new face.

It was Lynne’s first experience with cosmetic surgery, and Janeway had to laugh when she found her wife in their bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror and tentatively touching the ridges on her forehead and cheekbones.

“You look lovely,” said Janeway, leaning against the doorjamb.

“Right,” said Lynne. “I look like a twenty-first century science fiction comic strip character.” She turned to Janeway. “You, on the other hand, somehow manage to make facial ridges look sexy.”

“Only because I have an extremely biased audience.” They smiled at each other, enjoying the connection that neither one of them took for granted these days. Maybe, when they’d been together longer, they would stop feeling as if every day together was a blessing. But Janeway hoped not.

“We need to get going,” she said. “Are you quite done admiring yourself?”

In answer Lynne simply gave her a playful smack in the abdomen as she walked past. Janeway let out an “oof” for show, but was secretly delighted at this latest sign of recovery. Given the nature of Lynne’s earlier nightmares, any physical playfulness was a good thing.

The Doctor and Lieutenant Parker joined them on the transporter platform, and they beamed into an abandoned alley near the city marketplace. Janeway pulled her tricorder out of her shoulder bag, verified what her instincts were already telling her, and put it away again. “This way,” she said, striding off in the direction of the market. Lynne jogged up beside her.

“Don’t forget your escort,” she said.

“Not to worry,” said Janeway as they turned the corner into a busy street. “My escort would never let it happen.”

The market covered eight city blocks, featuring all manner of produce, livestock and crafts. The Doctor spent quite some time evaluating various food stocks, to everyone else’s great boredom, but the end result was good news: many of the offerings were not only compatible with human physiology, but palatable as well. With the Doctor’s assessment done, they retreated to a quiet corner and contacted Harry Kim. He’d been equally successful, so they divided up their shopping list between the two teams. Having to negotiate for half the stocks would raise less interest than trying to stock the entire ship from one market, and they were determined to be as dull as possible.

In the end, the mission was completely unremarkable. They acquired their stocks with no problems whatsoever, and Janeway decided to make it a little more interesting by challenging Harry to get his for a lower price than she paid for hers. It was hardly a fair challenge; Janeway had years of experience in negotiations and generally ate tradesmen for breakfast. But it was good for Harry, and he did a very credible job of negotiating.

The diciest part of the whole thing was finding an abandoned building for the delivery of their supplies and hoping that nobody would ask any questions about the loads of goods being brought in. But the natives didn’t seem to notice or care about the transports pulling into the broken-down building, and within minutes of the last transport departing, the team and its stocks were back aboard Voyager. Harry’s team arrived over an hour later, having had a little more difficulty in locating a suitable delivery location. By the end of the day, Voyager’s food stocks were back up to one hundred percent and Janeway was breathing a lot easier as she walked to the bridge with Harry and Tom. The three of them would be present long enough to get Voyager out of the system and back on course, after which they’d head to sickbay to get rid of their facial ridges.

“So, Tom,” she asked, “is the wedding back on now?”

“Yeah.” He grinned happily. “Are you available tomorrow?”

She put her arm around his shoulder. “For you and B’Elanna, absolutely.”

“I haven’t seen my invitation,” said Harry.

“Huh. Imagine that.” Tom walked into the turbolift and turned around, shooting Harry a sidelong glance. “They went out last month. Yours must have gotten lost in the mail.”

“What mail?” asked Harry as the doors closed.

Tom made no response, and Harry punched him in the shoulder. “So can I bring Tal?”

“Yeah, B’Elanna said you could probably use the exposure. You know, see how it’s supposed to work before you try it on your own.”

Harry turned bright red. “We’re not anywhere close to that.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

The doors opened onto the bridge and Janeway led them out, stifling her amusement at Harry’s discomfiture. As she settled into her chair, Chakotay gave her a wide grin.

“Nice,” he commented. “You should think about keeping them.”

Janeway rubbed her forehead ridges. “I did think about it. For three or four seconds. Tom, take us out of orbit, one-quarter impulse.”

“Aye, captain.” The planet began to slide away on the main viewer, and Janeway’s comm badge activated.

“Sandovhar to Captain Janeway. A Borg resonance signal just activated on the planet.”

“Full stop,” called Janeway. “Mr. Kim, scan for Borg signatures in the sector. Tuvok, locate that signal.”

“The signal is originating from what appears to be a military complex outside the northern city,” said Tuvok.

“No other signatures, Captain,” reported Harry a moment later. “Not even an ion trail. If there is a Borg ship down there, it’s been there awhile.”

“There’s a ship down there, all right,” said Revi. “But it’s either abandoned or else the drones aboard have been deactivated. I’m not getting any transceiver signals.”

“Captain,” said Tuvok, “I’ve just completed a scan for known Borg alloys. They are present at this location in quantities that suggest a scout ship.”

What the hell was a Borg scout ship doing on the surface of a mostly agricultural, pre-warp planet? Janeway shook her head. It didn’t really matter. If there was a deactivated ship down there, she wanted a look. The possibility of the ship containing a working transwarp coil was not something she could afford to pass up.

“I’m going down,” she said briskly. “Tuvok, you’re with me. Tom, establish a geosynchronous orbit.” She tilted her head as they all did when addressing the ship’s comm system. “Janeway to Lynne Hamilton and Seven of Nine. Report to Transporter Room One immediately.”

“We may have little time,” said Tuvok calmly. “I’m reading a massive energy buildup from the same coordinates as the signal. I believe the ship is preparing to self-destruct.”

“Damage estimate?”

“Such an explosion would destroy any building or lifeform within a thirty-kilometer radius. That includes the city.”

They already knew, from their earlier scans, that the city housed over three million inhabitants. Given the presence of a Borg ship on the planet, Janeway no longer felt bound by the Prime Directive. And a good thing, too, because she’d have had a hard time allowing the destruction of over three million people. She didn’t need any more Prime Directive violations on her record than she already had.

“Then we’d better hurry,” said Janeway, striding up the ramp to the turbolift. Tuvok was right behind her, and by the time they arrived at the transporter room Seven and Lynne were waiting for them, in uniform and armed.

So much for blending in, thought Janeway. All four of them were in uniform, and she was the only one who had the facial ridges of the natives. But avoiding detection was no longer her biggest concern.

“We’ve got a Borg scout ship preparing to self-destruct,” she said as she and Tuvok stepped up onto the platform. “Prime Directive protocols are hereby rescinded. Our top priority is to stop the self-destruct. Second priority is to locate and acquire the transwarp coil, if there is one.” She didn’t wait for them to acknowledge her words. “Energize.”

They materialized inside the scout ship, in total pandemonium. Men and women in gray uniforms were rushing back and forth, shouting instructions and accusations, and the level of panic was so high it was palpable. Harry Kim had done the transport from the bridge, tying it into his scans of the surface and beaming them into an empty dead-end corridor. They hadn’t been noticed yet, but that wouldn’t last long.

Seven immediately went to the nearest data node and punched up the information she needed.

“The power buildup will reach critical in three point eight minutes,” she reported. “I can’t override it from here; this is a branch node. I need to get to a trunk node.” Without further speech she walked out of the corridor and turned left. Janeway was right beside her, with Lynne and Tuvok bringing up the rear. They were noticed almost immediately.

“Who are you?” shouted a male voice, and Janeway saw heads turning toward them as the voice around them stilled.

“Keep walking,” she said quietly.

“Stop or we’ll shoot!”

At that Janeway stopped and turned, seeking out the person who looked the most authoritative. She found him in a tall man pointing what looked like a very lethal weapon at them. Tuvok and Lynne edged in front of her and Seven, their phasers out and held low.

“If you do,” she said, “you’re sentencing yourself and everyone in the city to death. We can stop this.”

“Not until you tell me who you are and how you got here. And especially who they are.” He pointed to Tuvok, Lynne and Seven. “They’re not Alsean.”

“I could do that,” said Janeway pleasantly. “But you have less than three minutes before this ship blows and you all die. Would you rather we have a chat now, or later?”

“Let them go,” said a female voice. A woman in a blue uniform pushed through the crowd to stand beside the tall man. Pointedly, she put her hand on the barrel of his weapon and forced it down. “Keep them under watch. But if they can stop this, I’m all for it. We’re dead otherwise.”

Janeway nodded at her, recognizing total authority when she saw it. “Let’s go,” she said. Seven turned on her heel and strode away, appearing not to notice the sea of people pushing themselves against the corridor walls to give her space. Janeway and the others followed, and Janeway knew without looking that the tall man and the woman in the blue uniform were right behind them. She also knew that both Tuvok and Lynne were keeping a wary eye on them.

Seven abruptly stopped in front of a larger data node, punching in commands so quickly that Janeway couldn’t even follow her motions. They all waited in a tense silence.

“The countdown has gone beyond recall from this source,” she said. “I’ll have to go inside.”

Janeway winced internally, knowing what this meant, but they had no choice. “Do it,” she said.

Seven extended her hand, and Janeway heard the gasps as her assimilation tubules leapt out to penetrate the data node.

“She’s like the others!” whispered someone. Janeway turned, scanning the crowd and finding a short man who looked more frightened than the others—and somewhat guilty at being caught.

“I guarantee you she’s not like the others,” she said, staring straight at him. He looked down, and Janeway shifted her gaze to meet that of the woman in blue. Their eyes locked and held, neither one giving ground. Oh yes, this one was definitely in charge and accustomed to power.

“The self-destruct has been deactivated,” said Seven, interrupting the staredown. Janeway turned to her.

“Did you also disable it?” she asked in a whisper, leaning in close to avoid being overheard. “These people don’t know what they have.”

Seven nodded. “They’ll have to put more effort into destroying themselves next time.”

Janeway blinked. Was that a joke?

Seven gave her a tiny smile, and despite the situation, Janeway couldn’t help but smile back. Then she steeled herself before turning once again to face the woman in blue.

“The ship’s power source has been stabilized. Check for yourselves if you wish.”

“She’s right,” said a man several meters away, looking at a device in his hand. “The power buildup has spiked and is rapidly decreasing.”

“Thank you,” said the woman in blue, but her expression did not change.

“You’re welcome,” said Janeway. “Would you like to have that chat now?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, I would. Please come with me.” She pivoted and led the way out, never once looking back. She was slim, light-haired and shorter than most of the individuals around her, but the power that radiated from her made her seem far taller.

They followed her out of the ship, across an open compound, and into a twelve-story domed building. Janeway bet herself that the woman’s office would be on the twelfth level, and she was right. They soon found themselves in an enormous office that was solid curving glass on the external wall, offering an expansive view of the compound. Janeway reflected that either this woman was unconcerned about them being spies, or had assumed that they already knew everything about the area.

“Please sit,” said the woman, indicating a large table. She waited until they had taken their seats before dismissing the four blue-uniformed guards who had accompanied them. Once the door closed, she sat at the head of the table.

“I am Lancer Andira Tal, commanding officer of Blacksun Base. Whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager,” said Janeway. “This is my Astrometrics officer, Seven of Nine. My tactical officer, Commander Tuvok. And my personal security escort, Lynne Hamilton.”

“Please do not begin a promising relationship with a half-truth, Captain Janeway.” Lancer Tal never took her eyes off Janeway’s. “Lynne Hamilton is more than your personal security escort.”

Janeway was startled, but kept it off her face. “You’re telepathic.”

“No, I’m empathic. Much stronger than most Alseans, which is partially why I’m Lancer. And I’ll know when you’re lying or concealing the truth, so I would not advise attempting it.”

“That’s why you asked no questions before,” said Janeway. “You knew we were telling the truth about why we were there.” She looked at the empty doorway. “And that’s why you dismissed your guards.”

Lancer Tal nodded. “You are not a threat, though you obviously could be if you wished. I felt compassion from you when I first saw you.”

“Three million people would have died if we hadn’t stopped the self-destruct,” said Janeway. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

“And I’m very grateful for your intervention. Please do not interpret my caution as a lack of gratitude. I’m merely attempting to determine who you are and what your arrival means for us.” She turned to Lynne. “And I would like to know who you are to Captain Janeway.”

Lynne didn’t answer, instead looking at Janeway, who gave her a slight nod.

“I’m Captain Janeway’s wife,” said Lynne.

“Yes,” said Lancer Tal, “that explains what I felt. Obviously it would be a tactical disadvantage for you to reveal that to a potential enemy. I don’t blame you for keeping that to yourself.” She turned her attention to Seven. “And you are not what you appear either. You have some similar attributes to those on the ship. They called themselves Borg. They had no emotions at all, but you do.”

“I was Borg at one time,” said Seven, “but I was severed from the Collective. There are no voluntary Borg, Lancer Tal. The Collective forcibly assimilates other species and turns them into Borg drones. When a drone is fully assimilated, he or she connects to the hive mind and all individual thought and emotions are removed. The drone no longer exists as a member of its original species. It is merely Borg.”

Lancer Tal gazed at her thoughtfully. “They attempted to assimilate several of my people. They failed.”

That got the undivided attention of everyone in the room. “Can you be more specific about that?” asked Janeway, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand up. What sort of people in a pre-warp civilization had managed to successfully resist the Borg?

“They injected their…” she didn’t know the term for it, instead pointing at Seven’s hand.

“Assimilation tubules,” Seven provided helpfully.

“Thank you. They injected their assimilation tubules into the throats of several of my people, but I don’t believe the results were what they expected. They almost instantly withdrew, stood there motionless, and then fell apart—literally. Our healers and scholars have been examining them for an explanation. Apparently their cybernetic systems did not react well to our physiology.”

Janeway eyed her. “No offense, Lancer Tal, but this time I believe it is you who is not telling the entire truth.”

The room seemed to hold its collective breath until Lancer Tal smiled. “Perhaps we should both start from the beginning.”

“Perhaps we should,” said Janeway. She was enjoying the challenge this woman presented.

“Then in the interests of an understanding between us, I will start first.” Lancer Tal tilted her head toward Janeway, who nodded. “We have long wondered whether there are other life forms in the universe besides ours,” she began. “The answer came one winter ago, when an alien ship entered our atmosphere and crashed in the forest east of here. I went to the scene, along with a unit of my personal guards. The ship was obviously damaged, but seemed to be repairing itself even as we watched. Then a door opened and twelve aliens emerged. They spoke in one voice, telling us they were Borg and that we would be assimilated. When they advanced on my troops I commanded them to stop or be destroyed, but they ignored me. I ordered my guards to open fire. We killed two of them, but then our weaponry simply bounced off some sort of shielding they had produced. The remaining ten each grabbed one of my troops and injected them. Then, as I said, they withdrew, stood there and fell apart. When they had all fallen, the repairs of the ship also ceased. They were connected somehow. We loaded the Borg and the ship onto transports and brought them here for examination. We have been unable to decrypt the language they used, so their records are still closed to us. But we have learned quite a bit about their technology. It was an attempt to remove the main power source from the ship that caused the self-destruct to activate.” She made a slight bow in Seven’s direction. “I’m most grateful to you for stopping it.” Then she looked at Janeway and waited.

“How did your physiology affect the Borg in such an instant and deadly manner?” asked Janeway.

“Ah,” said Lancer Tal with a smile, “I said I would start at the beginning. I did not say I would tell you everything. It is now your turn.”

Quid pro quo. Janeway understood. They would be trading information.

“We’ve known about other life forms for many generations,” she said. “The Federation is a collection of planets and species in an area of space a very great distance from here. We’ve learned to work together and make the most of our differences—on my ship I have members of more than seven different species.

“We were pulled from our area of space by a powerful alien entity, and have been making our way home since then. We have the capability of faster-than-light travel, but even with that it may take us half our lifetimes to get home. Food and energy resources are our limiting factor, and we came to your planet in order to purchase food stores. We were just preparing to leave orbit when we detected a Borg resonance signal from your planet, which must have been set off at the same time the self destruct activated. A few seconds later we detected the energy buildup. That’s when we decided to return to prevent the explosion. Understand, Lancer Tal, that you would never have known of our existence had it not been for that ship. Our laws prevent us from making contact with races that don’t have faster-than-light travel capabilities. But the presence of the Borg ship rescinded that law.”

“I see. So if you had detected a different sort of imminent explosion, say from one of our nuclear production sites, and no Borg ship had been present, you would have left orbit without interfering?”

“That’s what our law would have required.”

Lancer Tal tilted her head and narrowed her eyes slightly. “But it is not what you would have done.”

“Probably not,” admitted Janeway. “I’m not very good at walking away from the deaths of millions; not if I can prevent it. I’ve been known to…bend that law now and again.”

This time Lancer Tal grinned openly, revealing a neat row of small, very white teeth. “Captain Janeway, I believe you are what my people would call a nestone, a rogue agent not under the control of any government agency. They are generally highly valued for their skills, and considered very dangerous for those same skills and their lack of respect for the agencies that theoretically employ them.”

Janeway allowed a smile to cross her own face. “And what is your opinion of nestones?”

“I’ve occasionally wished I could be one.”

“As have I.”

Lancer Tal’s grin grew wider. “We understand one another.”

“Yes.” Janeway pushed for the next step. “Will you tell me about your people’s physiology?”

After a short silence, Lancer Tal nodded. “Our normal physiology did not affect the Borg. What neutralized them was our nanoscrubbers.” She gestured toward the window. “The view outside was not always as pleasant as it is now. Generations ago, one of our nuclear production sites experienced a catastrophic failure, killing tens of thousands instantly and poisoning our atmosphere with radiation. Millions more were going to die if we could not find a way to remove the radiation from our atmosphere and our bodies. Eventually our doctors and engineers invented nanoscrubbers, robots built at the cellular level and designed to neutralize radioactive particles. We produced billions of them and released them into the atmosphere, where they began the long process of cleansing our air. We also injected them into our citizens. Nearly one million Alseans had already died by the time the nanoscrubbers were perfected, but since then we have not had a single death from radiation poisoning.”

As she spoke, Seven had taken out her tricorder and tested the air. “Radiation levels are well within acceptable parameters for Humans and Vulcans, Captain.” Janeway knew they’d already scanned for radiation from orbit, but given this story it was good to double-check.

“Of course,” said Lancer Tal. “The nanoscrubbers have long since purified our atmosphere.”

“But you still inject your citizens with them?” asked Janeway.

“Yes. Our memories are long, and we still depend on nuclear production sites for our energy. The mistake that cost millions of lives should never happen again, but there is always the potential for disaster. Should it ever strike, we are prepared.”

“So something in these nanoscrubbers causes total failure of Borg systems,” said Janeway. She looked at Seven worriedly.

“I’m all right, Captain,” said Seven. “If the nanoscrubbers still exist in the atmosphere, merely breathing them is not affecting my remaining implants.”

“They still exist,” said Lancer Tal. “But they went inert a long time ago. They’re old technology; the nanoscrubbers that we currently give our citizens are a vastly improved design.” She smiled. “And I’m very glad to know that they don’t affect you. Since you single-handedly saved every inhabitant of this base and the city, I would hate to think that our planet could destroy you in turn.”

Janeway exhaled. The implications were absolutely earthshaking.

“Lancer Tal,” she said, leaning forward, “you need to understand the true nature of the threat you’ve avoided. The Borg assimilate only those species that have distinctive technology, so your planet is in no danger at the moment. No offense, but you’re not sufficiently advanced. That scout ship must have been damaged in some way and forced to crash land here. Had that not happened, you would never have known about Borg or Humans. And the Borg will continue to ignore you until you develop faster-than-light technology. At some point after that, when you come up with technology that interests them, you will likely attract their attention—and attracting the attention of the Borg can be fatal to entire planetary populations. They assimilate by the millions and are nearly impossible to stop. They are the single greatest threat to the survival of not only my species, but every species in the Federation. We have never found a way to defeat them on anything but a small scale—their technology is too advanced. And even those small defeats have sometimes cost us very dearly. What you have here, in your nanoscrubbers, is a way to protect yourselves in a manner that no species I’ve ever heard of has found.”

Lancer Tal met her eyes squarely. “And a means of protecting you as well.”

“Yes.” Janeway didn’t ask. There was no need to; the woman across from her saw very clearly.

“You wish to acquire it. But if we give you our technology, and you use it as a weapon, will that weapon still be useful when we have need of it?”

Oh yes, she saw very clearly. Janeway’s respect went up several notches. Arms races were one of the true universal constants.

“To be honest,” she said, “the Borg are known for their ability to adapt. That’s why you were only able to kill two before the rest adapted their personal shielding to repel your weapons. All Borg are connected by the hive mind, so the others immediately received the data when you fired on the first two. It’s precisely this ability to adapt that makes them such formidable opponents. So it’s certainly possible that they would adapt to your nanoscrubbers. It’s also possible that they won’t. And it’s possible that by the time your world achieves faster-than-light travel, the Borg won’t be a threat at all. They were nearly destroyed three years ago by another species. They’re not invincible.”

A silence fell on the room while Lancer Tal considered her options.

“The choice before me,” she said at last, “is whether to give you technology you can use immediately, or keep it against the time when it may or may not be useful, generations into our future. By which time we will almost certainly have developed newer versions of nanoscrubbers anyway, particularly given this information.” She looked at each of them in turn. “Our world owes you a debt. I have the means to repay it. I will make the choice to do so.”

“And this choice is within your power?” Janeway was surprised that Lancer Tal wasn’t bringing a government official into the discussion.

The small woman across from her smiled. “Captain Janeway, there is nothing that is not within my power. I gave you my title earlier, but introduced myself solely as the commander of this base. I’m afraid that wasn’t the whole truth. I also command Alsea. A Lancer is the highest authority on our world.”

Janeway sat back in her chair. “In that case, I’m very glad to have met you.”

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 2

 

 

Tom and B’Elanna’s wedding was put off yet again, and Voyager remained in orbit for several days while Revi and the Doctor worked on the nanoscrubber technology. Lancer Tal had instructed her doctors and engineers to fully cooperate with the aliens, so the two Voyager doctors spent quite a bit of time on the planet’s surface, examining the deactivated drones and comparing notes with the Alseans. Seven, B’Elanna and Harry were brought into the project as well, and the team’s preliminary report was extremely encouraging.

In the meantime, Janeway built on her relationship with Lancer Tal. She and Lynne enjoyed a tour of the best scenery and culture the Alseans had to offer, with the Lancer herself piloting the transport. Lynne nearly vibrated out of her seat when they flew by The Tower, a two-thousand-meter vertical wall of rock that was a famous Alsean landmark. Janeway immediately asked Lancer Tal if it would be possible for Lynne to climb the wall, and enjoyed the surprised and grateful look on Lynne’s face. When the Lancer agreed, Lynne’s expression left no doubt that Janeway had earned a reward. She received it that night, in a marathon session that left them both exhausted, and the next day Lynne was gone for a grueling two-day solo climb. It was the first time she’d gone planetside alone since coming aboard Voyager, but she assured Janeway she’d be all right. “There’s nobody else who can come,” she said. “This is too technical. But I’ll have my comm badge. If worse comes to worst I’ll just call for a beamout when I’m freefalling.”

Janeway did not appreciate her humor.

“I’m kidding, Kathryn,” said Lynne. “I’ll use a safety line.”

That didn’t make Janeway feel significantly better, but after a few more assurances she let Lynne go with a kiss for luck. The bounce in Lynne’s step as she hopped up onto the transporter platform, even laden as she was with her gear bag, told Janeway she’d done the right thing.

While Lynne was gone Janeway busied herself returning Lancer Tal’s hospitality, bringing the ruler aboard for a tour and enjoying both her company and the penetrating questions she asked. It wasn’t often that she met a planetary ruler she could thoroughly respect, but she respected the Lancer, and found their diplomatic relations turning into a real friendship. She hoped she could parlay that friendship into one final favor.

It was toward the end of the third day, during a private dinner in Janeway’s quarters, that Lancer Tal called her on it.

“Captain Janeway,” she said, carefully placing her napkin on the table, “you have been carrying an unspoken wish in your mind since the moment of our meeting. At this rate it appears you never plan to verbalize it. What is it that you wished to ask me?”

Janeway smiled; she’d grown accustomed to the Lancer’s occasional lack of subtlety. In some ways she was very much like Seven.

“I wanted to ask you about the possibility of sharing one more thing with us,” she said. “But you’ve already given us such a great gift that I’ve been having difficulties determining how to ask you for another one.”

“And what is this thing you wish to ask for?”

“It’s called a transwarp coil. It enables the Borg to travel much, much faster than our own technology is capable of. With it, we might be able to reduce the time it takes us to return home by as much as ninety-five percent.”

“I believe I know the item you speak of. Our engineers have been tracing the propulsion technology from the energy source; we have tracked it through a small piece of equipment that we have been utterly unable to understand. We can’t open it, we can’t get it to power up, and we have no understanding of what it does except that it seems to convert the power source into something of an entirely different physical nature.”

“You’re not too far behind us. We’ve had a transwarp coil in our hands, and although we did figure out how to use it and make basic repairs, we still don’t understand exactly how it works and we have no ability to create one ourselves. When that coil burned out we had no way of replacing it.”

“Other than to find a new one.”

“Correct. Which means seeking out a Borg ship and defeating it. Which most sane people wouldn’t consider doing.”

“But you did.” Lancer Tal grinned at her.

“There are those who would probably consider me insane.”

“There will always be those who, in their envy of true greatness, will call it insanity instead.”

Janeway inclined her head, grateful beyond belief that Lynne wasn’t there to hear that statement. She’d have a field day with it.

“I understand your trepidation in asking this, Captain Janeway. Obviously we can benefit from the study of this coil as well. I can’t overlook the fact that a stepladder to the stars has literally fallen into my lap, and I would be derelict in my duty to my people if I simply gave away what fortune has blessed us with.”

Janeway’s heart sank. Lancer Tal wasn’t about to give it up. And simply stealing the coil had long since ceased to be an option.

“However,” said the Lancer, looking at her keenly, “a trade of technology might be an option.”

Janeway perked up. Now she was talking. “What sort of trade did you have in mind?” she asked, her face perfectly blank.

Lancer Tal smiled. “Captain Janeway, I would be able to feel your anticipation at two hundred paces. You do love to negotiate, don’t you?”

“I always appreciate a challenge.”

“But negotiation is a little different when your opponent knows what you’re feeling.”

“So I’ve noticed. And I’m grateful there aren’t too many empathic species out there, or I wouldn’t have gotten away with half the things I’ve done.”

“I can imagine. Then let us be clear in this particular instance. I will not ask for more than I want, expecting to be bargained down. I will ask for exactly what I want. There is no room for negotiation here. There is only yes or no.”

Janeway nodded. “I understand.”

They eyed each other across the table for several seconds.

“I want your replicator technology,” said Lancer Tal.

Janeway sat back in her chair. “You don’t want much, do you?”

“I know I’m asking for a great deal. But so are you. You’re asking us to give up a blueprint that could lead us to the stars. Surely you would not expect me to do so without finding an equally valuable replacement. The decision is yours:  you can leave here with your technology, or you can leave here with both your technology and the Borg’s. Which do you prefer?”

“You know which I’d prefer,” said Janeway, “but the decision is not mine. At this level I’ll have to request permission from my superiors. We have daily contact with home, so I can put in a request in tomorrow’s transmission and possibly receive an answer the following day. But I can’t give you a yes or no right now.”

“But you will ask for permission.”

After a pause, Janeway nodded. “Yes, I will. Your people are advanced, despite your lack of warp technology and your apparent agrarian culture. Based on what my engineers have told me about your nanoscrubber technology, you certainly have the ability to understand our replicator technology and may not be far from inventing it on your own. In addition, your culture and your government are such that, if you were warp capable, you would likely qualify for Federation membership. I’ll recommend the trade.”

“Thank you, Captain Janeway. Let us hope that your government sees as clearly as you do.”

“Governments never see as clearly as individuals,” said Janeway.

“Not unless the government is an individual.” Lancer Tal smiled, and Janeway briefly envied her. Absolute power was a rush, and she’d given hers up the day they’d made contact with Starfleet. Still, it also came with a heavy mantle of responsibility, and she suspected that Lancer Tal felt it keenly.

They conversed easily as Janeway cleared their plates and brought out her traditional dessert, tiramisu and coffee. Her opinion of Lancer Tal went up even more when the Alsean expressed her delight over the tastes.

“Perhaps you can include the coding for these foods when you give us the replicator technology?” she asked hopefully.

Janeway laughed. “I’d be more than happy to.”

When their evening came to an end, Lancer Tal gave her a very serious look. “Captain Janeway, I do not exaggerate when I say that making your acquaintance has been the single most remarkable experience in my life. And considering the life I’ve led, that is not a minor statement.”

“Thank you, Lancer Tal,” said Janeway. “I’ve had the good fortune to meet many extraordinary individuals in my travels, but I can truthfully say that very few have made the sort of impression that you have. I’ll be truly sorry to leave here and end this friendship.”

“Friendships do not end simply because of distance,” said Lancer Tal. “I will always remember you and consider you my friend.”

“And I’ll do the same.” Janeway really was going to miss her.

“Then perhaps you will allow me to give you a gift, to acknowledge the understanding and the friendship between us.”

“You don’t need to—”

“I did not say I needed to. I want to. Will you allow me?”

Janeway nodded, wondering what the Lancer had in mind. She watched in confusion as her guest pushed her chair back and stood up.

“Please stand, Captain Janeway. What I have in mind may not be what you expect.”

An alarm bell went off in Janeway’s head as she slowly rose. She wasn’t sure what Lancer Tal was planning, but if it was what this was looking like, their beautiful friendship was about to come to an abrupt end.

Lancer Tal shook her head. “There is no need for concern. Please allow me to explain.” She stepped closer, well within Janeway’s personal space. They were about the same height, and the Lancer’s eyes burned into Janeway’s with an intensity that she’d rarely seen.

“On my world,” she said, “nearly everyone is an empath, some stronger than others. There are a few, however, who do not have the ability to sense emotions. We call them sonsales, the blind ones, and consider them to be disabled. It has been strange for me to meet an entire ship full of individuals who are sonsales and yet do not know it. You don’t understand how blind you are. I have felt the emotions you have for your wife, and I have felt hers for you, and it makes me very sad that neither of you can truly see. You are missing an aspect of the divine, Captain Janeway. The love that flows between the two of you is something rare and beautiful; a type of emotion that I have only glimpsed a few times in my life. I can share my sight with you.”

Janeway was intrigued. “How?”

“By making a connection of our minds. But you will have to trust me. And I need your permission to do it.”

Janeway wasn’t unfamiliar with the concept; she’d done more than one Vulcan mind meld in her time. But to give up control of her own mind to another required an enormous amount of trust. Did she trust Lancer Tal that much?

She looked into the dark blue eyes so close to her own. Although their acquaintance had been short, the Lancer had shown herself to be a woman of integrity, always acting fairly and in the best interests of her people. Janeway had known very few individuals that she respected so greatly. Yes, she could trust her.

“I would like to see what you see,” she said.

Lancer Tal nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “Your trust is a gift to me.” She reached up, putting one hand around the back of Janeway’s neck and cupping the side of her jaw with the other. “You must complete the connection,” she said. “Put your hands in the same position on me as mine are on you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Janeway did as she was asked. It was an oddly intimate situation, but she sensed no sexual overtones—not even when Lancer Tal lowered her head so that their foreheads touched.

“Close your eyes,” she whispered.

Janeway took one last look into her friend’s eyes before shutting her own. At first she felt nothing, but then a warmth began to spread throughout her body. It gradually morphed into a sensation that she could not put words to:  an incredible feeling of protection, love, desire, and an undertone of sorrow, all wrapped up in one dazzling, overwhelming rush through her brain. Her knees went weak and she barely managed to stay upright—but she didn’t want to break this connection. It was exquisite, glorious…yes, divine was a good word for it. Was this what Lancer Tal felt all the time? God, no wonder she thought Janeway was blind.

She had no idea how long they stayed in the connection; all she knew was that she never wanted it to end. But it did, and very abruptly, when a sharp and angry voice cut through the silence of the room.

“I’m sure there’s a good explanation for this. And I can’t wait to hear what it is.”

The sudden ending of the connection made Janeway gasp, and she stepped back in shock. Dazedly, she looked up to see Lynne standing just inside the door, dusty and grimy, with her gear bag over her shoulder.

Lynne dropped the bag to the floor with a muffled clank. “I’m waiting,” she said, the mask over her face telling Janeway everything she didn’t want to know.

“Lynne,” she said, her voice shaking from the intense emotions she’d just experienced, “it’s not what you think.”

“Christ, Kathryn, that’s the biggest cliché I’ve ever heard. Honestly, I’d expect more of you.”

Lancer Tal stepped between them. “She’s telling you the truth. And what you are assuming does you no credit.”

Lynne was across the room in an instant. She stared down at the Lancer, her body radiating anger. “Then tell me what you would think if you came home and found your wife in another woman’s arms.”

“That would depend less on what I saw and more on what I felt,” said Lancer Tal calmly. “You are sonsales, Ms. Hamilton, blind to the truth of emotions. What I was sharing with Captain Janeway had nothing to do with me and everything to do with you.”

By now Janeway had shaken off the aftereffects of the mental connection. She stepped to Lynne’s side and took her arm. Lynne tore her gaze off the Lancer and met Janeway’s eyes, her own full of disbelief and pain.

“Lynne,” said Janeway, “I just felt what you feel for me. It was Lancer Tal’s gift to me. It was incredible.”

“What?” Lynne turned her body to face Janeway fully. “Kathryn, what’s going on?”

Janeway wrapped her arms around Lynne, not caring that they weren’t alone. Lancer Tal had already seen far more than this.

“She can feel what you and I feel for each other. And she offered to share that with me. That’s what we were doing when you walked in. She was acting as an intermediary, making herself a conduit for your emotions. Lynne, she’s right; we are blind. It’s so beautiful.” Janeway simply couldn’t describe what she had just felt. She looked desperately at Lynne, willing her to believe.

Lynne searched her face and seemed to accept what she saw there. She crushed Janeway in her arms. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I walked in and saw you—”

“Shh,” Janeway whispered. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m sure it looked exactly like what you thought.”

“But I should have trusted you…”

“You obviously do, or you wouldn’t have believed me so quickly.”

They held each other for some time before Lynne finally drew back. “I haven’t had a shower in two days,” she said. “You must love me to let me hold you in this condition.”

Janeway ran a quick finger down her cheek. “You know I do.”

Lynne turned to their guest. “Lancer Tal, please accept my apology. I generally try not to be a complete asshole in front of heads of state, but I’m not always successful.”

Lancer Tal inclined her head. “I will accept your apology on the condition that you accept mine, for not considering what that might have looked like to one who could not feel the emotions.”

Lynne nodded. “Thank you for being so gracious. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get cleaned up.” She cast one last look at Janeway before going to their bedroom and shutting the door.

Janeway’s legs suddenly felt weak. She tried to maintain some grace as she pulled out a chair and dropped into it. Lancer Tal followed suit, looking at her with what might have been a sheepish expression.

“I truly am sorry,” she said. “I never once thought about how that might appear.”

“Don’t be,” said Janeway. “You offered me a gift, and it certainly was. That wasn’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. It was like a glimpse of the divine. I don’t wonder why you consider the non-empathic to be blind.”

Lancer Tal nodded. “But you must understand something, Captain Janeway. What I shared with you is very unusual. I have felt that kind of love perhaps five or six times in my life, and only between others; never for myself. I can only wish that I might find what you have. It is a gift from the gods.”

Slowly, Janeway nodded. “I never thought of it that way. But given what I’ve just felt, and what you say…maybe it really is. Certainly it has changed my life. And Lynne’s.” She sat up straighter. “Do you think it might be possible to share with Lynne what you did with me? I would love for her to feel that.”

“Do you think she’d trust me?”

Good question. Janeway gave it some thought. “Yes,” she decided. “I think she would, based on what she already knows about you. And on what I feel.”

“Then I would be happy to do so.”

Janeway had more questions about what she’d felt, and Lancer Tal patiently explained to the best of her ability. It seemed that, although physiology might differ between species, emotions were something of a constant. Their conversation was fascinating, and Janeway was surprised when Lynne rejoined them—she’d had no idea that much time had gone by.

“Have you had anything to eat?” she asked as Lynne sat down.

“I ate at the top of The Tower before beaming up.” Lynne looked at Lancer Tal. “That was the most incredible climb I’ve ever been on. Thank you for allowing me to do it. There’s nothing like that on Earth—the tallest wall we have there is only about two-thirds that high. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I’ll never forget it.”

“I’m glad that we could provide something so exceptional,” said Lancer Tal.

Janeway reached across the table for Lynne’s hand. “And I’m glad you had such a good time. But I’m more glad you’re home safe.”

Lynne smiled at her. “Kathryn, it was amazing. I’m not kidding, that was the most sensational climb I’ve ever been on in my life. What a treat. El Capitan is going to seem like a garden wall if I ever get the chance to do it again.”

“El Capitan?” repeated Lancer Tal.

“It’s a sheer granite cliff on my home planet,” explained Lynne. “One of the tallest on the planet, and extremely popular among climbers. I know the woman who made the first free ascent of it; she’d probably give her first-born child for the chance to do what I just did.” She shook her head. “I mean she would have.” She looked at Janeway. “Her name was Lynn, believe it or not. Lynn Hill. Not only did she make the first free ascent ever, but she came back the next year and made the first one-day free ascent. When I left Earth seven years later, her record was still unbroken. I tried to beat it and couldn’t come within forty minutes of it.”

“Is she no longer among the living?” asked the Lancer. Which led to an explanation of Lynne’s history, to Lancer Tal’s complete astonishment. Janeway thought it was interesting that of all the things that the Lancer had learned in the last few days, this seemed to affect her the most.

“You seem to have adapted to your circumstances very well, Ms. Hamilton.”

“I wouldn’t have done nearly so well without Kathryn,” said Lynne. “She saved me in more ways than one.”

Janeway smiled at her. “Then Lynne returned the favor.”

Lancer Tal watched them. “Still, it can’t have been as simple as you make it seem. At the risk of seeming rude, may I ask how you have adapted? What has been easy for you, and what has been more difficult? Besides the familial aspects, that is. The price of that is stamped in your emotions; I felt it the day we met. But I am curious about the less obvious aspects.”

Lynne gave that some thought. “The easiest things have been the advances that Humans have made over the last four hundred years. Medical, technological, social, environmental—my race is in far better shape now than I would ever have believed it could be. I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished. And at the same time, some of those same advances have been the most difficult for me to adapt to. I spent my entire life thinking of myself as a fairly intelligent woman. But among these people and in this time, I don’t have that sense of myself anymore. I’m surrounded by brilliant minds and I can’t keep up. It’s a little demoralizing.”

“You never told me that,” said Janeway. She couldn’t believe that the first time she’d heard this was while Lynne was talking to someone else.

Lynne turned to her. “I have, just not in those words. Kathryn, I’ve been studying grammar school physics now for what, three months? And in that time I’ve managed to graduate to the ninth-grade level. Not exactly cutting edge. Let’s face it, you and I are never going to sit around and discuss Wang’s second postulate. I just don’t get it. And yes, it’s demoralizing.”

How had she not known that Lynne was feeling this way?

“Lynne, the average Federation citizen will never sit around and discuss Wang’s second postulate. That’s doctorate-level theory, and I’m not sure where you heard about it if you’re studying ninth-grade physics.”

“From Seven,” said Lynne. “She was trying to help me.”

Janeway made a mental note to ask Seven exactly how she’d been “helping” Lynne. It looked as if some damage control might be in order.

“You are one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever known,” she said, trying to will the truth into Lynne’s head. “Just because you’re having trouble catching up on current physics has no bearing on your native intelligence. You said physics wasn’t your field of choice to begin with, so why should that have changed just because you’re living in a different time? You have your own skills and knowledge base, Lynne. They just don’t happen to match what you’re trying to do right now. In no way does that make them any less valuable.”

Lancer Tal spoke up before Lynne could respond.

“Do you believe in destiny, Ms. Hamilton?”

Lynne gave Janeway a look that said we’ll discuss this later and turned to their guest. “Please, call me Lynne. I’m not comfortable with that kind of formality.”

“Then, Lynne, I repeat my former question. Do you believe in destiny?”

Lynne paused before answering. “If you’d asked me that a year and a half ago, I would have said no. Now I’m not so sure.”

“I believe,” said the Lancer firmly. “And you are living proof. You and Captain Janeway are what we Alseans would consider tyrees—partners who are fated to be together. Our literature is full of such partnerships, despite the fact that they are very rare in reality. I’ve personally never experienced it, though I have been privileged to see it a few times. As I am right now. And I can tell you that your perceived inadequacy is a function of your mind only, not of Captain Janeway’s. It is plain to see in her emotions. Destiny would not have brought you together if you were not matched.”

Janeway nodded. “Can you show her now?”

“Show me what?”

“What I was experiencing when you walked in,” said Janeway. “Lancer Tal had offered me a gift of friendship, Lynne. She was showing me what you feel for me. And now she’s agreed to show you what I feel for you. Will you let her?”

Lynne looked back and forth between them.

“Yes,” she said. “I think I should.”

“It’s not a requirement,” said Lancer Tal with a smile. “You’re acting as though you’ve been assigned a duty.”

Lynne looked a bit guilty. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m not really sure about this. But I do know I want to see what Kathryn did.”

Lancer Tal nodded. “I could wish that you were more certain. But I think I can convince you. Please stand, Lynne.” She pushed her chair back and stood up, and Lynne followed suit. Janeway watched in anticipation, thinking that this connection might be precisely what Lynne needed.

Lancer Tal walked around the table to stand in front of Lynne. “I’m going to create a mental connection between our minds,” she said. “But to complete it, you’ll need to put your hands on me precisely where I put mine on you.”

“I understand.”

Janeway watched as Lancer Tal reached up wrap one hand around Lynne’s neck, cupping her jaw with the other. Hesitantly, Lynne brought her own hands up to mirror the position.

“Lean down, Lynne, and touch your forehead to mine.”

Again there was a slight pause, but Lynne lowered her head. Janeway had to admit, it looked pretty intimate. If she’d walked in on a scene like this without knowing the background, she’d have been every bit as pissed off as Lynne was. Even knowing what was going on, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny qualm at the sight of her wife in Lancer Tal’s arms.

But then she heard the gasp, and saw Lynne’s body slump. Yes, she knew exactly what Lynne was feeling. She watched, fascinated, as the two women went perfectly still. God, she wished she could be a part of this.

The connection lasted for several minutes, and it was Lancer Tal who eventually backed off. Lynne’s eyes stayed closed for several more seconds before she finally opened them.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Lancer Tal smiled. “It was my pleasure. Now you know why I enjoy being in the same room with the two of you. And you know why I knew, from the first moment I saw you, that you were more than Captain Janeway’s personal security escort.”

Lynne nodded, then looked at Janeway. She didn’t speak, but her heart was in her eyes. Janeway stood up and closed the distance between them, folding Lynne in her arms.

“I love you,” she said quietly.

“I know. I felt it. God, Kathryn, it was so beautiful. It almost hurt when she stopped it.”

They held each other tightly, parting with some reluctance and only because they had an audience. But Lancer Tal’s eyes were closed, and she had a delighted smile on her face. She opened her eyes to find both Janeway and Lynne looking at her.

“You two could fuel me for several seasons,” she said. “You think I have given you a gift, but the truth is that you have given me a far greater one. May I offer one final gesture?”

Both Janeway and Lynne were beyond questioning her motives. “Absolutely,” said Janeway, and Lynne nodded in agreement. Lancer Tal stepped up to them and rested her hands over their hearts. “Put your hands on the back of my neck,” she said. They did, without hesitation.

“Listen and open your minds.”

Janeway closed her eyes. At first she heard nothing, but then a rhythm filled her mind, and she recognized it as Lynne’s heartbeat. The familiar rhythm faded into the background, and she was overwhelmed with the emotions Lancer Tal had conveyed earlier—but this time they seemed brighter, sharper, warmer and stronger. Perhaps, she thought, these were real time emotions, as opposed to the remembered emotions that Lancer Tal had shared. And even as she thought it, she heard Lynne’s whisper.

“Kathryn…”

“Yes.” That was Lancer Tal’s voice. “You’re feeling each other as you are, right now.”

“God, Kathryn…”

There was absolutely nothing Janeway could say. The emotions she was feeling were indescribable. Words did not exist that could convey what Lynne’s emotions did. She reached out blindly with her other hand, and was unsurprised when it encountered Lynne’s reaching for her. They held hands tightly, the physical connection grounding them as they spent an eternity wrapped in each other’s love. When Janeway felt Lancer Tal pulling back, she nearly wept. And by the tone of Lynne’s whispered “no,” she wasn’t the only one.

She opened her eyes, her heart aching with the loss. Lancer Tal was looking at her with the kindest expression she’d ever seen on her face. Lynne’s eyes were still closed, a tear making its way slowly down her cheek. As she watched, Lynne opened her eyes and looked at her.

Janeway didn’t feel the slightest bit self-conscious as she pulled Lynne to her and took her mouth in a kiss that could probably have powered San Francisco on a cloudy day. Lynne responded ardently, and it was with some difficulty that Janeway remembered they had company. Not that Lancer Tal would mind in the least, she knew. The emotions the Lancer had conveyed between them were far more intimate than any physical gesture. Still, she reluctantly ended the kiss, resting her forehead against Lynne’s in an unconscious replay of what she’d done with the Lancer.

Finally Lynne gently pushed her away by her shoulders, turning to Lancer Tal and holding out her hand. “Thank you,” she said. “You can’t possibly know what that meant to me.”

Lancer Tal took her hand. “Yes, I can,” she said. Then her eyes went wide, and Janeway stifled a laugh as Lynne pulled her into a hug. She watched the expressions flit across the Lancer’s face, and knew the exact moment when she gave up and let herself enjoy the physical contact. As soon as Lynne let her go, Janeway pulled her in for her own hug.

“This is a custom of our race,” she said quietly, holding the Lancer close. “It’s called a hug, or an embrace. And we give it only to people who are very special to us.”

When she released her, Lancer Tal stood still, a wide grin on her face. “And on my planet,” she said, “not a single breathing person would dream of doing what you just did. But I wish they would.”

They conversed a few minutes longer before Lancer Tal said she needed to return. Janeway and Lynne walked her to the transporter and saw her off, and as soon as the transporter beam faded their eyes were locked. They could barely tear themselves apart as they made their way back to their quarters, and the moment the doors closed behind them they were in each other’s arms.

For a long, long time they stood there, unmoving, simply remembering what they’d felt and taking comfort in each other’s physical presence. Finally Lynne spoke.

“If I had any doubts left,” she said quietly, “that took care of them.”

Janeway held her even more tightly. “I wish you’d never had doubts,” she said, “but I’m so glad Lancer Tal took them away.”

“Kathryn…do you believe in destiny?”

“I believe we make our own,” said Janeway. “But looking at you, I have to wonder if maybe sometimes we don’t have a little help.”

Nothing more was said that night—at least, not verbally.

 

 

-----

 

 

Janeway had less trouble than she would ever have imagined getting permission to share replicator technology. Starfleet took only one day to come back with a positive response, no questions asked. When she thought about it, however, it made sense. Starfleet was essentially being held hostage by the Hamilton Foundation, which was withholding funds until Voyager returned. Obviously someone at Starfleet had figured that out, despite the Foundation’s veil of secrecy. Therefore, anything that sped up their return was a political and financial windfall. Balanced against that, such considerations as sharing replicator technology with a non-Federation world an entire quadrant away were apparently negligible.

She called Lancer Tal to give her the news, and they set up a meeting at Blacksun Base for the exchange. At the agreed-upon time, Janeway beamed down with Lynne, Seven and B’Elanna, sending Seven and B’Elanna into the scout ship to remove the transwarp coil. With some fanfare, she handed over a working replicator and a PADD with blueprints. Lancer Tal thanked her formally, gave the replicator and PADD to a waiting officer, then turned back and winked at Janeway.

“Dinner tonight?” she asked in a whisper.

“We’d love it,” Janeway whispered back. “Here or on Voyager?”

“Voyager.”

Janeway gave her a quick smile, then spoke in a much louder voice. “Lancer Tal, in celebration of the understanding between our races, will you grace us with your presence this evening for dinner?”

“I would be honored,” said Lancer Tal in a similar voice. “Thank you, Captain Janeway, for all that your people have done for the Alseans.”

“The honor is mine,” said Janeway, barely suppressing a smile at the twinkle in Lancer Tal’s eyes. “It has been a pleasure to meet and know such a great leader. Your people are very fortunate to have you guiding them in this time of change.”

Lancer Tal inclined her head, taking the praise graciously and ignoring the fifty or so image recording units that whirred around them. Janeway knew damn good and well that she’d just guaranteed the Lancer’s political position for the next decade. And she had no problem with that whatsoever.

Seven and B’Elanna had the transwarp coil installed by the end of the shift. Since Voyager had utilized a coil once before, the infrastructure had already been engineered and it was merely a matter of replicating the parts. Janeway came down to Engineering when they were done and checked out the installation, feeling a tingle in her spine as she saw the concrete reality of what she had dreamed of for so long. They were a little more than thirty thousand light years from home. The last time they’d used a transwarp coil, they’d gotten twenty thousand light years out of it. And both B’Elanna and Seven were certain they could get more out of this one if they used it in short bursts, letting it cool down in between, rather than taking one long flight.

We’re going home. My god, we just might make it all the way.

She straightened up, a wide smile on her face. “Good work. Shall we take it out for a test run tomorrow?”

B’Elanna looked uncharacteristically hesitant. “Captain, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Janeway was surprised, but followed B’Elanna into her office. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine, Captain, don’t worry. We’re ready. It’s just that…well…I wanted…I mean—” She stopped, took a deep breath, and got it out in a rush. “I wanted to ask if we could possibly delay our departure by one day.”

Janeway stared at her. “Why?”

Now that she’d gotten the worst out, B’Elanna seemed much more at ease. “Because, Captain, Tom and I want to get married while we still can. I mean, last time we tried, we got sucked into the void, and then we lost our food stores and had to restock, and just when we got that done we found the Borg scout ship, and now we’re about to go into a transwarp jump which should be entirely safe but who the hell knows? We just want to take advantage of this window. Kahless forbid that anything should happen, but if it did, I’d like to at least have this.”

Janeway’s first thought was to deny the request; after all, the entire crew was looking forward to getting home. But then she gave it more consideration. Only the senior staff and the engineering team knew the actual status of the transwarp coil installation; the rest of the crew would know they were ready to go only when Janeway told them. And B’Elanna was right—they’d already put off their wedding for several weeks because of ship issues. Perhaps it was only fair that the ship put off its next “issue” for their benefit. One day was nothing, and she understood B’Elanna’s desire to be married just in case anything happened.

She nodded. “Request granted. When will you need us?”

All of the air seemed to go out of B’Elanna’s body. “Yes? You mean yes?”

Janeway grinned. “I’m quite sure that’s what I said. Would you like me to say no instead?”

“No! I mean…never mind. It’ll be 0900; Carey had some holodeck time reserved, but he offered it to us if we could use it.” She relaxed, an enormous smile lighting up her face. “Thank you, Captain. We really, really appreciate this.”

Janeway reached out and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “B’Elanna, you and Tom have both saved this ship any number of times. Voyager owes you. So do I, and so does this crew. I’m happy to be able to provide this for you. I just wish I could give you more than a one-day honeymoon. But I can’t put off our departure any more than that.”

“We understand, Captain. It’s more than we hoped for.”

Janeway gave her shoulder a squeeze before dropping her hand. “So, do I get to make a shipwide announcement?”

“No, thank you.” B’Elanna winced. “We can’t invite everyone we’d like to as it is. No need to make a public announcement to the folks who can’t come. Would you tell Lynne I’ll need her by 0700?”

Janeway couldn’t resist. “Good god, B’Elanna, how long does it take you to get dressed?”

“Oh, you’re funny, very funny. Don’t forget that I’m the one who made your wife beautiful on your wedding day. She owes me.”

For a moment Janeway was lost in a memory, of a vision in green who had smiled at her and promised the world. Lynne had been incredibly gorgeous that day. She looked back at B’Elanna, all signs of teasing gone from her face. “I think I’m the one who owes you, actually. But I’ll be glad to send Lynne. She’s been waiting for this.”

Dinner with Lancer Tal that night was full of discussion of social customs, since the upcoming wedding was in both Janeway’s and Lynne’s thoughts. Janeway wished she could invite their new friend, but space was limited as it was. Instead, she enjoyed describing their customs to the Lancer and hearing about Alsean bonding ceremonies in turn.

“I’m curious about the physical aspects of this joining, Captain Janeway,” said the Lancer. “It’s very different from our own customs. Am I correct in inferring that for you, the legal bonding is not fully recognized until it has been reflected in a physical bonding?”

What a graceful way of putting it, thought Janeway. “For Humans, yes, most of the time. Though a bonding can certainly be legally binding without any physical joining at all. Most of us, however, would consider that a marriage in name only.”

“How very fascinating,” said Lancer Tal. “The physical connection is certainly very important to us, but not as much as the emotional connection. In an Alsean bonding ceremony, what is truly being celebrated is the right of each partner to fully share in the emotions of the other. As an empathic species, we are very careful not to invade the privacy of each others’ emotions, and we have a very stringent set of laws to reinforce our right to privacy. So when two individuals agree to give each other full access, they celebrate it by giving their loved ones that same access, for one time only. Bonding ceremonies are a time of intense emotional connection.”

“That sounds incredible,” said Lynne. “You mean it would be like what you did with Kathryn and me, only involving more people?”

Lancer Tal nodded. “Imagine what we did, multiplied by ten or one hundred of your closest friends and family. Your love would be shared and understood by all. Such a gift to your loved ones cements your connection and brings all of us closer.”

Lynne looked at Janeway. “I want to be an Alsean.”

The Lancer laughed. “You do my people a great honor. We would love to have you.” She sobered. “But you’re leaving soon, are you not?”

“Yes,” said Janeway. “The day after tomorrow. We’d like to have one last dinner with you if you have time. Tomorrow night?”

“For you I will make time,” the Lancer said seriously. “My world will not be the same once you have gone.”

 

 

-----

 

 

At 0900 the next morning, Janeway stood on a platform in her dress uniform, watching as Tom and Harry marched down a gravel pathway toward her. The setting was exquisite: the slight breeze, the scent of blossoms, the faint hum of insects and the occasional call of a bird all spoke of an attention to detail that was rare for most holoprograms. But then, most holoprograms weren’t put together by two people with equal skill in the field. Janeway found herself wishing she could have a copy of this one for her own use—but of course she could never ask. If anyone, even Seven and Revi, had ever asked to use her and Lynne’s engagement mountain program, she wouldn’t even have considered it.

Tom and Harry took up their positions in front of her, and Janeway winked at her helmsman. He grinned back, looking like a small boy in a toy store with an entire bar of gold latinum in his hand. Like he couldn’t believe his good fortune, but was not about to waste it.

A liquid, warbling bird song broke out in a tree just behind her, and she realized that it was meant to provide the music for Lynne and B’Elanna’s approach. She watched, mesmerized, as Lynne once again walked down a wedding aisle toward her, this time wearing a white and gold dress version of her uniform. Lynne caught her eye and gave her a radiant smile, and Janeway knew they were thinking the same thing.

If I had to do it over again, I would in a heartbeat.

God, she was lucky.

B’Elanna had made a single nod toward her Klingon heritage by wearing a traditional Klingon wedding dress, in a red synthetic leather that matched Tom’s dress uniform. Lynne had already reported on it, calling Janeway just before 0830 and telling her to “hang on to your hat.” Janeway now knew why—B’Elanna was absolutely stunning.

When the two women arrived at the platform, Lynne stepped between Tom and B’Elanna, took each of their hands in her own, gently joined them together and stepped back once more. It was a symbolic gesture that B’Elanna had asked her for, and Lynne had nearly cried when she’d first told Janeway about it. Janeway knew that for Lynne, being asked to perform a gesture so imbued with family meaning was a gift of the highest order. She’d privately called B’Elanna after Lynne had gone to bed and thanked her for it.

Now B’Elanna and Tom were looking up at her, waiting. The crowd was completely silent, and the bird had toned its warbling down to a soft crooning. It was time.

“As captain of a Federation starship,” she began, “I’m sometimes required to do things that are difficult, or dangerous, or worst of all boring as hell.” The faces below her broke into knowing smiles. “But then there are times like this; times that make me feel truly fortunate, because I have the opportunity to take part in the creation of something new and beautiful. Today we are all here to witness such an event.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Janeway sipped her champagne and surveyed the happy crowd dancing, talking, shouting and laughing. Tom and B’Elanna stood out like beacons, their joy radiating from them as they were surrounded by well-wishers. She was so glad she’d been able to do this for them.

“Well, that went off without a hitch,” she remarked to Lynne.

“You mean they’re not really married?”

Janeway turned to give her wife a suspicious look. “What are you talking about?”

“Isn’t the whole point of a wedding to get them hitched?”

“Do you have any awareness of how truly awful your puns are?” asked Janeway, poking Lynne in the ribs.

Lynne pulled Janeway in with an arm around her waist. “Yes, but I also know that you love me anyway.”

“Only because I absolutely can’t help it.”

Lynne went still for a moment, then turned and dropped a gentle kiss on the side of Janeway’s throat. “Sometimes you leave me breathless, Kathryn. I never know what to expect from you.”

“And I work very hard to keep it that way. I can’t have you getting bored.”

Lynne snorted. “Like that would ever be a problem.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Lancer Tal beamed aboard that evening for their final dinner together. Janeway and Lynne thoroughly enjoyed the Lancer’s company, but they were sorry to see the end of what would have been a lovely friendship. They all knew they’d never see each other again, and the undercurrent of loss could not be ignored. Lancer Tal told them that she had never in her life felt such an informality in the presence of others—she’d been raised within the halls of power, and though she never said the words, both Janeway and Lynne knew that she understood loneliness far too well. When the Lancer asked them for one final gift, they were only too glad to agree. Anything that was in their power, they’d happily offer. But what the Lancer had in mind was another exchange of emotions.

“That’s not a gift to you, that’s a gift to us,” said Janeway in some confusion. “We were both hoping you’d offer, but we didn’t feel right about asking.”

“Oh, I would have asked eventually,” said Lynne.

“That’s because you have no tact,” said Janeway, smiling to take any unintended sting out of the comment.

Lynne smiled back, her expression unrepentant. “Tact; stultifying diplomatic training—it’s all the same and I’m quite glad I don’t have it.”

Lancer Tal laughed. “Your lives will never be stultifying, I can guarantee it.” Then she sobered and looked at each of them in turn. “You don’t seem to understand how rare your connection truly is. On my world, you would be held in reverence. Such an emotional connection graces all who come in contact with it and have the empathic strength to see. People would have fought to be invited to your bonding ceremony, just for the chance to have a glimpse of what you share. To be given total access, as I have, is an unimaginable privilege. So it is I who feel blessed when you give me the gift of this connection.”

“Is it really that rare?” asked Lynne. “Because there’s another couple on this ship who share the same kind of connection, from what I can see. Sonsales as I am,” she added.

“Truly?” Lancer Tal was obviously intrigued. Janeway and Lynne looked at each other.

“Shall we ask them over?” Janeway wondered.

“I don’t see why not. It’s our last night, and the Lancer’s last chance.”

Janeway tapped her comm badge. “Janeway to Sandovhar.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Revi, are you and Seven free at the moment?”

There was a slight scuffling sound. “We’re free,” said Revi. Lynne snickered, and Janeway couldn’t help her smile. She was pretty sure they’d interrupted something.

“Then would you like to come to our quarters to visit with Lancer Tal?”

“We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Janeway closed the channel. Now she knew she’d interrupted something; it didn’t take those two ten minutes to get ready for anything. But it was too late to do anything about it now.

“I didn’t realize you’d never seen them together,” she said. “But now that I think about it, you’ve only met Revi once, and Seven wasn’t with her.”

“You are speaking of Doctor Sandovhar and Seven of Nine? The two Borg?”

“The ex-Borg,” corrected Janeway. “They were Human before they were assimilated.”

“I’m sorry, please excuse my mistake.” Lancer Tal seemed genuinely embarrassed.

Janeway waved it off. “Lancer Tal, we’re well beyond that stage of our friendship. It’s a common misunderstanding, and one they’re used to.”

“But I suspect that does not make it easier.”

“No,” admitted Janeway. “I don’t think it does.”

They spent the next ten minutes explaining Revi and Seven’s history to the Lancer, so that by the time the door chime rang she was well informed. Janeway called their guests in and made the introductions. They’d both met Lancer Tal before, but not in this kind of circumstance.

When the introductions were over, the Lancer looked at Lynne. “You’re quite right,” she said. “They are tyrees as well. Incredible. I have never before been in the presence of two sets of tyrees.”

Seven and Revi both turned to Lynne for an explanation.

“Partners whose love transcends the norm,” said Lynne. Revi nodded, and Seven followed suit a moment later.

“But you’re different,” said Lancer Tal, her eyes half shut. “You’re not empathic, yet I can sense a duality about your emotions. Almost as if you’re reflecting each other.”

“We are,” said Revi. “You’re sensing our interlink. Our minds are connected.”

The Lancer’s eyes snapped open. “You’re telepathic?”

“No,” said Seven, who could never bear inexact terminology. “Like all Borg, we have structures in our brains that enable us to connect to the hive mind. Revi is unusual in that she has a powered internal transceiver, allowing her to connect with me and other Borg even without benefit of the hive mind. I am unable to connect with anyone but her, or another Borg possessing a powered transceiver. And neither of us can connect with individuals who were not Borg.”

“I see. So the Borg created a cybernetic method of telepathy, but then stripped the connected minds of all emotion. Remarkable. The greatest gift my people could ever conceive of, combined with the most terrible curse.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” said Revi. “Only a very few of us have ever escaped and lived. But we’re very fortunate, because we escaped the curse and kept the gift.” She and Seven looked at each other, and Janeway marveled at how natural that smile now seemed on Seven’s face.

“Revi,” she said, “may I speak with you, please?”

Leaving Lynne to facilitate the conversation between Lancer Tal and Seven, Janeway led Revi to a corner of the room.

“I have a question for you, and there’s absolutely no pressure so please answer honestly.”

“When have I ever not?” Revi asked.

“Just making things clear.” She looked back at Lynne, who was using her hands to describe something. What would it be like, she wondered, to have the kind of connection Revi and Seven had, so that she wouldn’t even have to look to know what Lynne was saying? What would it be like to sit on the bridge and know what Lynne was thinking at the other end of the ship?

She shook herself out of it, facing Revi once again. “Lancer Tal is more than just empathic. She has the ability to directly feel our emotions when she makes physical contact with us, and to feed those emotions back to us. Two nights ago she offered herself as a conduit between Lynne and me. We felt each other, Revi. I think it must have been a glimpse of what you and Seven feel every day.”

“Gods, Kathryn, that’s wonderful. What a gift. I’ve often wished that for you.”

“Thank you. It was wonderful. And it turns out that it was a gift for Lancer Tal as well; she says that emotions like ours are rare on her world. And that to be allowed access to them is even more unusual.”

Revi smiled. “And you’ve asked Seven and me here to see if we’d be willing to give her that same access.”

“She’s a remarkable woman, Revi. Lynne and I consider her a good friend, and she’s done a great deal for us. I’d love it if you’d allow her to connect to you, but I also understand that this is highly personal. It’s just a suggestion, and Lancer Tal has no idea I’m asking you.”

“Well, I don’t know that I—” Revi stopped and tilted her head. “Never mind. Seven’s curious. She wants to know what such a connection would feel like when produced biologically as opposed to cybernetically. You can take the Borg out of the engineer, but you can’t take the engineer out of the Borg.”

Janeway smiled at Revi’s expression. “Sometimes I get the feeling that you’re barely keeping up with her, Revi.”

“Gods, isn’t that the truth. Don’t you feel that way about Lynne at times?”

“Sometimes. I know she’d say the same thing if you asked her. But that’s what keeps a relationship fresh, don’t you think?”

“Fresh, or exhausting?”

Now Janeway laughed outright. “Come on, my tired friend.”

The look on Lancer Tal’s face when Janeway explained what Revi and Seven were offering was something she wouldn’t forget any time soon.

“You would do this for me?” she asked incredulously, turning to them. “Even though you already share not only your emotions, but your thoughts as well?”

“We would,” said Seven. “You’re doing me a favor. I’ve never experienced a purely biological form of mental sharing.”

“I am greatly honored,” said Lancer Tal. “When would you wish to do this?”

“Now,” said Seven, who never saw any reason for delaying once a decision was made.

“Very well.”

Janeway and Lynne sat on the couch, holding hands and watching the exchange. Revi told Seven that she was temporarily tuning out her frequency, and even with the warning Seven’s physical reaction was obvious. She was plainly distressed by the cessation of their contact, but moments later her body language relaxed as Lancer Tal connected them. Janeway and Lynne waited in some anticipation as the minutes ticked by, and both noticed that when the Lancer pulled away, Seven and Revi opened their eyes immediately. Apparently they required no adjustment period as Janeway and Lynne had.

“Remarkable,” said Revi. “Completely different. I can’t even describe it.”

“I’m…relieved to hear that,” said Seven. “It makes me feel less frustration at my own inability to put words to that experience.”

“Can you at least try?” asked Janeway, who was dying of curiosity. This was the best chance she’d ever have of understanding their interlink.

Seven and Revi looked at each other. “It was…more diffused,” said Revi.

“Less focused, but…gentler,” added Seven. “As if the emotions were being filtered instead of delivered directly.” She turned to the Lancer. “It was extremely interesting to have the emotions of a third individual blended into our own.”

“You felt my emotions?” Lancer Tal seemed a little ill at ease.

“Yes.”

“Really?” said Janeway. “I didn’t.”

“Neither did I,” said Lynne.

“Perhaps because you don’t have experience in separating and recognizing emotions,” said Seven, apparently unaware of the irony in that statement. Or perhaps, thought Janeway, she knew exactly what she was saying. Seven’s sense of humor had acquired such a fine point that sometimes Janeway wasn’t sure whether her words were intentional or not.

Seven turned back to their guest. “I am curious to know, Lancer Tal, why you would feel guilt regarding your interaction with Captain Janeway. To my knowledge you have done nothing to inspire such an emotion. You seem to feel that you have been untruthful, yet I have seen no evidence of anything but openness and honesty.”

Lancer Tal stepped back, her eyes flitting between Seven and Janeway.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me?” Janeway kept her voice soft; she had a feeling she knew what the Alsean was hiding.

Lancer Tal looked extremely uncomfortable, but then she visibly straightened her spine and met Janeway’s curious gaze head on.

“I certainly didn’t expect this,” she said with a wry smile. “Yes, I do feel some guilt for the manner in which I have been forced to act. Captain Janeway, I had anticipated that you would depart without ever knowing that my stand in our negotiations was not entirely truthful. Please believe me when I say that I never intended to cheat you; I was merely acting in the best interests of my people.”

“I see,” said Janeway mildly. “Is this about the second transwarp coil?”

She really shouldn’t be enjoying the Lancer’s obvious shock quite so much, she thought. The poor woman actually had to pull out a chair and sit down.

“You knew?”

Janeway nodded.

“When?”

“The day we met. As soon as Seven tapped into the scout ship’s trunk node she had access to all of its records. She told me when we returned to Voyager.”

It took Lancer Tal several seconds to find her voice. “I don’t understand. Why did you not tell me during our negotiations? You allowed me to maneuver you into a position that was to my advantage.”

“Because I got what I wanted. There was no reason to bring up the second coil.” Janeway leaned forward. “That night you told me I had the choice of leaving here with my technology, or leaving with both mine and the Borg’s. I took the third choice: leaving both of us with both technologies. You could have refused to share, but you didn’t. I appreciated your generosity, so I shared, too.”

There was a short silence, broken when the Lancer threw her head back and laughed, loud and long. When she finally got herself under control, she wiped her eyes and shook her head. “Oh, how my opponents on the Council would have loved to have seen that! They’ve been trying to get the better of me for many a season. Who would have guessed that it would be a sonsales alien who would do it in the end?”

“Should I take that as a compliment?”

“Absolutely. Captain Janeway, would you call me Andira? I know it’s late in our acquaintance, but I’d like us to part as the best of friends. I certainly feel that way about you.”

“I’d be delighted, as long as you call me Kathryn in return.” Janeway sensed that she had just been given a mark of great distinction. It was significant that Andira had waited this long to make the offer.

The five women settled in for an evening of conversation the likes of which Janeway had rarely enjoyed. Five intelligent minds, two races, and several completely different points of view led to a brilliance in their discussions that transcended what she, Lynne, Revi and Seven usually had—and that was saying something. They talked late into the gamma shift, and it was with great reluctance that Janeway said she needed to get some sleep before her shift started. They had a big day coming up, and were scheduled to engage the transwarp coil at noon—largely to give Tom and B’Elanna twenty-four hours together before they had to come back on duty.

Revi and Seven went home first, and the three remaining women looked at each other in the sudden silence.

“I’m very sorry to see you go,” said Andira. “Alsea will certainly not be the same without you.”

“I can’t say we’re sorry to leave,” said Janeway, “not when we have the best chance yet of getting home soon, thanks to you. But we are sorry to leave you behind. Our recent experiences with alien races haven’t been the best, Andira. Meeting you has restored my faith. I’ll miss our friendship very much.”

Lynne simply reached out for Andira’s hand and held it gently in her own. “Please take good care of yourself,” she said. “My greatest hope for you is that you join the ranks of the tyrees. You deserve it.”

Wordlessly, Andira took Lynne’s hand and placed it on the back of her neck. She carefully put one hand over Lynne’s heart and looked at Janeway. Nodding, Janeway reached out to complete the connection. Andira’s hand felt warm on her chest, and she closed her eyes.

This time she felt something else in the connection and knew instinctively that it was Andira herself, sharing as she had not done before. The three of them stood still, locked into a timeless world of emotions, and Janeway wished that it might never end. It was a powerful drug; one she’d never missed until she’d had her first taste. And she knew she’d never stop craving it.

Perhaps because it was their last time, Andira held this connection far longer than the others. Nearly twenty minutes had passed before she pulled out, and all of them were shaky on their legs. They looked at each other silently. After such an intense exchange, there didn’t seem to be anything left to say.

Lynne was the first to speak. “Thank you for everything,” she said quietly, pulling Andira into a hug. She whispered something that Janeway didn’t hear, then straightened again. “Kathryn, will you walk her out?”

Surprised, Janeway nodded.

The corridors were empty as they made their way to the transporter room. When they entered, Janeway dismissed the ensign on duty and faced her friend as the door slid shut.

“You’re right,” she said. “Friendships don’t end just because of distance. I’ll always remember you as a friend.”

Andira smiled wistfully. “Kathryn, had you not been tyree, I would never have let you leave without doing my best to share more than emotions.”

Janeway reached out for her hand. “Had I not been tyree, Andira, you would have succeeded.” Gently she pulled her in for a hug. “Goodbye, my friend,” she whispered.

When they parted, Andira immediately stepped onto the platform and turned to face her, her head high and her expression solemn. Janeway moved to the console, set the coordinates, and put her fingers on the control pad. She looked up once again, meeting Andira’s eyes, and held their gaze as she activated the transport. When it was complete, she stood there unmoving for several seconds before gathering herself and striding out the door.

“The transporter room is yours, Ensign,” she said as she walked past the crewman standing just outside.

In her quarters she found Lynne in front of the viewport, looking down at the planet. Wordlessly, she came up beside her and gathered her into her arms.

“Did she tell you?” asked Lynne.

“Yes. Which explained why you didn’t walk her out.”

“She’s so lonely, Kathryn. I wanted her to have at least that much. I could feel it, during that last connection.”

“I felt it, too, but I didn’t recognize it. I guess you’re a little better at that than I am.”

“No, I just know what it feels like to be hopelessly in love with you.”

Janeway turned her head and kissed her. Maybe there was something left over from their last connection, because she could have sworn she felt a little jolt of electricity when their lips met.

“Come on,” she whispered when they separated. “I’ve got to get at least four hours of sleep or Revi will have my head.”

“She’ll have to come through me first,” said Lynne. But she let herself be pulled away from the viewport.

In the darkness, the planet glowed a brilliant blue and green, turning on its axis as it had for millennia—and as it would for millennia more.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 3

 

 

Their departure from the Alsean system went smoothly, and although Janeway was sad to see the planet slip off their viewscreen, she was thrumming with excitement at the thought of what lay ahead. They planned to use the transwarp coil in four-thousand-light-year bursts, giving it six hours to cool down between each one. By this time tomorrow, they should be almost halfway home. The bridge and engineering staff had made their initial preparations, checked all systems, and then checked them twice more. Everything was ready; all they lacked was a pilot.

The turbolift door slid open behind her and Tom sauntered in, stopping in confusion when the bridge crew burst into spontaneous applause.

“Congratulations, Tom!” said Janeway. “We’re all delighted for you that you survived the night.”

Tom actually turned red. “I can’t believe you said that!”

Janeway laughed. Sometimes it was fun to let herself loosen up a bit, just to see how it blew her crewmembers’ minds.

“I’m just looking out for my ship,” she said. “We need you in one piece. By the way, how did our wedding gift work out?”

She carefully kept her face blank, but it wasn’t easy when Tom turned an even brighter red, all the way to the tips of his ears. It had been Lynne’s idea to give B’Elanna and Tom their own Risan joystick—slightly altered. But she didn’t have the engineering skills to make the alterations, so one evening Janeway had sat on their living room floor with her tools and fiddled with the control pad until she’d gotten what they wanted. No matter which button was pressed, the joystick would become a full-sized Cardassian penis. Lynne had lobbied for the Ferengi penis for the sheer disgust factor, but Janeway had pointed out that Tom would be far more demoralized by the Cardassian version. Lynne had conceded, telling Janeway that she truly was an evil woman and she loved her for it.

“It, uh, worked fine,” said Tom, scratching the back of his neck and not meeting her eyes.

“Really!” Janeway wanted to laugh. “So you tried it out, then?”

His eyes came up, shocked, and she gave him a small smile. “I’ll have to ask B’Elanna about it,” she said. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear you mentioned it on the bridge.”

Now his mouth dropped open and he looked horrified. Janeway managed not to completely lose it, but damn, it was hard. As it was, she couldn’t prevent her smile from turning into a full grin before she let him off the hook.

“Are you ready to take us home, Lieutenant?”

Her use of his rank let everyone know that they were getting down to business. They all fastened their battle harnesses, a feature B’Elanna had developed and installed six months ago after their last big ion storm. The harnesses had already proven themselves very useful in the skirmishes they’d had since then, and Janeway was taking no chances now. From experience she knew that transwarp travel itself was smooth, but sometimes the entrance and exit could get a bit rocky.

B’Elanna and Seven both came onto the bridge to work from their auxiliary stations. When the various departments had all reported in with a final readiness check, Janeway sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. “Mr. Paris, whenever you’re ready.”

“Engaging warp drive,” said Tom. The stars on the viewscreen leapt into motion, becoming the familiar streaks that Janeway never tired of watching. The bridge was dead silent except for Tom’s voice reporting their speed.

“Warp five. Warp six. Warp seven. Warp eight.”

“All systems go,” said B’Elanna.

“Bring the coil on line. Prepare for transwarp,” said Janeway.

“The coil is on line.” B’Elanna’s voice was calm.

“We’re at critical velocity,” said Tom.

“Engage, Mr. Paris.”

“Engaged. Transwarp in five…four…three…two…one…zero.”

They all held on as the ride got more than a bit bumpy. Then it suddenly smoothed out and the star streaks vanished, replaced by the wispy green transwarp conduit.

“We’ve crossed the threshold,” said Tom unnecessarily.

“Steady as she goes.”

For two hours they watched the green tunnel flash past them, taking them to four thousand light years at the precise moment that Seven had calculated. Janeway ordered Tom to bring them out of transwarp, and after a mighty buck and surge, Voyager shot back into normal space.

B’Elanna ran a systems check. “The transwarp coil is hot but within parameters,” she said.

“Excellent,” said Janeway. “B’Elanna, Seven, I want a visual inspection of the coil and the infrastructure. Check for any signs of wear or stress. If it looks good, we’ll hit transwarp again at 2000 hours. Good job, everyone.”

B’Elanna and Seven left the bridge as Janeway activated the shipwide comm to report their progress to the crew. They’d just cut nearly four years off their journey in two hours. Not only that, but they were now in the Beta Quadrant. Still a damned long way from home, but somehow the Beta Quadrant just seemed so much closer. Their flight plan took them across a corner of the Beta before they finally arrived in the Alpha Quadrant, where they would still be several thousand light years from Sector 001—but at least they’d be in charted territory.

We’re going home. She smiled, finally letting herself relax. We’re really going to make it this time.

 

 

-----

 

 

Their second jump was as successful as the first, and Janeway retired for a five-hour nap before heading back to the bridge for the third. At 0330 her alarm went off, and she quietly slipped out of the bed and into the bathroom. But when she emerged a few minutes later, the bedroom was empty. She found Lynne by the replicator, barefoot and in a tank top and loose pants, holding Janeway’s coffee mug and waiting for the water to finish dripping through the filter.

“Hi, love,” she said. “I thought you might need this.”

“God, yes,” said Janeway, sniffing the air appreciatively. “But not badly enough to get you out of bed this early.”

“It’s okay. I’d never be able to sleep, anyway. I’ve discovered that transwarp travel makes me queasy. It’s better to be awake and active than lying down, thinking about how much I’d love to throw up.”

Janeway wrapped her arms around Lynne’s waist and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry. It’s affecting quite a few people that way. Revi or the Doctor should be able to help you.”

“Yeah, I was just deciding that maybe I should give up and ask for help. But either way, it’s a small price to pay for the kind of speed we’re making.” She turned a smile on Janeway. “You realize that we’re getting home just in time. You’ve only got six pounds left.”

“Oh, shit, why didn’t you tell me? I’d have found a transwarp coil earlier if I’d known.”

Lynne pulled out the wet filter, tossed it in the replicator with a splot, and handed the coffee to Janeway. “Computer, recycle.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Janeway took a careful sip. “Mmmm. Maybe I should think about buying a coffee plantation when we get home.”

“Oh yeah, I can see you out there in the tropical sun, picking beans all day long.”

“I didn’t say I’d work the plantation. I just want to own it.”

“Mmm hm. Much easier just to buy the beans, I’d say. But if you’re buying a coffee plantation, then I want a chocolate factory.”

“Why are you asking me for permission? You can probably buy every chocolate factory on the planet.”

Lynne stared at her. “Oh, my god.”

“What?” Janeway was alarmed.

“I just realized. We’re going home.”

“Well, yes, that was the idea.”

Lynne pulled a chair out from the table and sat down. “Kathryn, I’m not ready for this.”

Janeway put her mug on the table and sat as well, reaching over for Lynne’s hand. “Didn’t hit you until just now, huh?”

“No! I don’t know why, either. Oh, Jesus, I think I’m going to be sick.” She did look a little green.

“Lynne, you’re going to be just fine. And I’ll be beside you every step of the way.”

Lynne looked up. “Promise?”

“I promise. It’s probably going to be a bit insane for me when we get back, but I’ll never lose sight of you. Never.”

Slowly, Lynne nodded. “Okay. Thanks.” She lifted Janeway’s hand and dropped a kiss onto her wrist. “You need to get out of here.”

“I know. You are going to sickbay, right?”

“I’ll go.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Half an hour into their third jump, Janeway checked on Lynne, who assured her that the drugs she’d gotten from sickbay were god’s gift to transwarp and she was heartily sorry she’d waited so long to go. Smiling, Janeway cut the channel and focused on the reports coming in from engineering and ops. Voyager’s hull was taking some stress, but nothing looked alarming yet. The transwarp coil appeared to be doing fine.

In another ninety minutes they came surging back into normal space, and Janeway breathed easy once again. Twelve thousand light years down. Twenty-one to go. If the coil holds, we’ll be home in forty-eight hours. She unhooked her battle harness and stood up to check the engineering boards with B’Elanna and Seven.

“Captain, I’m detecting another transwarp signature,” said Harry. “No, make that two. Approaching at one one six mark three.”

With a cold dread stiffening her spine, Janeway retook her chair and hit the red alert. “Battle stations. Begin rotating shield frequencies. Tuvok, bring weapons on line, Borg configuration zero-one-six.”

They all watched as a green vortex appeared in front of them, disgorging a Borg cube and a smaller hexagonal ship. The two ships came to a swift halt as the transwarp conduit vanished.

“They’re hailing us.”

“Put it on.” She waited for the inevitable We are the Borg.

But what she got was the Borg Queen, looking at her with the almost reptilian calm that Janeway remembered from their last encounter.

“Captain Janeway. Such a…pleasure to meet you once again.”

Janeway felt the dread turn to something much worse. This was a far different ballgame than a standard cube.

“I thought I left you a few sectors back,” she said. In pieces, she added silently. When she’d rescued Seven and run for Voyager, the Queen had given chase—but Voyager had collapsed the transwarp conduit just as the Queen’s ship was coming through. It had been torn to shreds.

“You think in such a linear fashion,” said the Queen. “Perfection cannot be destroyed.”

“Why are you here?” asked Janeway, ignoring the dig.

The Queen smiled. “We detected a transwarp signature in a sector where no Borg ships had been deployed. I knew of only one possible source. So we…dropped by.”

Janeway knew the Queen was playing with her. But the last time they’d met, she’d won. Maybe she could use that to her advantage now.

“I can’t say it’s nice to see you again,” she said. “But since you’re here, perhaps we can come to an understanding.”

The Queen tilted her head slightly. “What do you possibly think you can offer?”

“A détente,” said Janeway. “I have no quarrel with you now. But if you start one with me—” she paused, letting the threat become obvious—“you k