chapter 22

 

 

Janeway was draped bonelessly in her lounge, working on her fourth whiskey and soda. Far from relaxing her, the synthehol had exacerbated her emotions, putting her in a truly foul mood. She’d gone over the situation time and time again, and could come up with no conclusion other than that she’d done what she’d had to—and the result was that she had just thrown away her career. There was simply no getting around it. One did not defy the President of the Federation and keep one’s pips.

Over the course of the afternoon—and especially these last two hours, once she’d gotten home and could stew over it with no distractions—Janeway had worked herself into a righteous fury. She’d been angry with Gutierrez, the arrogant asshole; with Starfleet, which hadn’t protected her; with the unknown saboteur…but as the whiskey soaked into her brain she found a much closer target.

Lynne.

Lynne had put this whole thing in motion, hadn’t she? She’d single handedly ruined Janeway’s career with one selfish, unthinking mistake fourteen months ago, when she’d gone against Janeway’s direct order at Earth and left that message for her parents. The message that resulted in the creation of the Hamilton Foundation, which was now withholding funds from the Federation and causing the President to take a personal interest in Voyager—an interest that had just cost Janeway a lifetime of work, sacrifice, and dreams. Sure, Lynne had done it with the best of intentions. But the fact remained that she’d done it, against orders, and now Janeway was paying the price. It was the same mistake that Lynne made over and over again—acting without thinking about the long term consequences. And inevitably, Janeway was the one who paid.

Well, she was fucking tired of it. Not that it mattered; after all, now that her career was at an end, there wasn’t anything left for her to pay. Lynne had cost her everything.

Everything.

She glanced up as the doors opened, revealing the object of her thoughts. Lynne gave her a quick smile as she walked in.

“Hi, love,” she said.

Janeway didn’t answer, instead giving great consideration to the glass in her hand.

“I had a great day today,” Lynne continued, walking past her into the bedroom. She raised her voice to be heard as she changed her clothes. “Tuvok wants to give the security staff a refresher course on working in cooperative teams, so he asked me to design a challenging climbing program. I got to spend most of the day in the holodeck playing and calling it work. God, it felt like my old life.”

Her cheery voice grated on Janeway’s nerves. Why the fuck was Lynne so happy when her own world had just imploded? Her anger, already white hot, grew even stronger at this insult. Lynne shouldn’t be this happy. Not when she’d caused so much trouble.

A minute later Lynne emerged in loose gray pants and a dark green sleeveless shirt. She was still talking as she crossed over to the replicator. “Those security teams aren’t going to know what hit them. They think they’re well-trained and ready for anything, but they’re not ready for this. I can’t wait to finish this simulation. Computer, ice water.” She turned around. “I just wish I was a faster holoprogrammer. I’m a hell of a lot better at it now with my cortical implant, but I’m still not as good as B’Elanna or Tom.” She sipped her water, then looked at Janeway in concern. “Kathryn? Are you all right?”

Still Janeway said nothing, and Lynne quickly came over to stand beside her. “Hey,” she said, “what’s going on?”

Janeway looked at her wife through narrowed eyes. Part of her wanted Lynne to get the hell out and leave her to her misery. Another part wanted her to stay and join in that same misery; after all, who had caused it? But she made an effort to take the high road.

“Lynne,” she said, barely controlling her voice, “I really need to be alone right now.”

There was a long silence. Finally Lynne said, “I can do that. But will you please tell me what’s wrong first? You’re worrying me.”

Janeway stared at her glass.

“Kathryn.” Lynne’s voice was soft. “Talk to me. Maybe I can help.”

And that was all it took. Those last four words were the spark to Janeway’s smoldering temper; her rage had simply been waiting for the right target.

She carefully put her half-full glass onto the table, pushed herself out of the chair, and let go of her control.

“You know what?” she said, her tone dangerously low. “I don’t need any more of your help. Your help is what got me into this in the first place. You and your ‘fuck the Temporal Prime Directive’ attitude.”

Lynne opened her mouth to say something, but Janeway didn’t want to hear a word of it. “You want to know what’s wrong? All right, I’ll tell you. I got a call from the President of the Federation today, and he ordered me to use the slipstream drive. You know why? Because of you. Because he’s losing political credit while the Federation is losing money. And why is the Federation losing money? Because the Hamilton Foundation is diverting funds.”

“Kathryn—”

“And why is the Foundation diverting funds?” Janeway’s voice was rising. “Because it wants you. Because you saw fit to create it by ignoring the Temporal Prime Directive fourteen months ago, after I specifically asked you to obey it!” The last words were shouted, and Lynne looked as if she’d been struck across the face.

Janeway stepped into her, savagely satisfied to see Lynne step back. “But I can’t use the slipstream drive, can I? Because somebody who wants you dead put in a fatal design flaw. So I’m stuck. Oh, but President Gutierrez doesn’t see a problem. He thinks the risk is manageable. So he ordered me to use the drive, and I refused. I disobeyed a direct order from the fucking President. Do you know what that means?”

Lynne shook her head, her eyes wide. Janeway had never seen her look so hurt, and part of her wanted to crush her in her arms and soothe it away. But a much stronger part was actually glad to see it—because now Lynne was paying the price, too.

“It means that I just put my career out an airlock. It means I face a court martial the minute I set foot on Earth. It means I’m ruined, Lynne. Everything that means anything to me is tied up in this uniform, and they’re going to take it away. Because of you.”

Lynne’s head went back at that, and she closed her eyes. Janeway stood there staring at her, waiting for her to defend herself. She wanted a fight. God, how she wanted a fight.

But when Lynne opened her eyes again, all Janeway saw was quiet resignation.

“You’re right, Kathryn,” she said. “You really need to be alone.” She turned and walked toward the door.

“Don’t you walk out on me,” Janeway growled. She couldn’t believe Lynne would turn her back on her. “Lynne Hamilton, don’t you dare leave!”

The door shut, and Janeway was left alone with her rage.

“Goddammit!” she shouted. She picked up her whiskey glass, drained it in three gulps, and threw it at the door with every bit of her strength. It shattered with a gratifying crash, spraying glass shards all over the deck.

“Fuck,” she said, swaying on her feet and then collapsing onto the lounge. “Fuck,” she repeated as she propped her elbows on her knees and put her face in her hands. A few moments later she slumped back on the lounge and stared at the ceiling. Then she shook her head and laughed, but it was a mirthless sound.

“Well, that’s just a perfect end to a perfect day.”

 

 

-----

 

 

The explosion of fury Janeway had directed toward Lynne effectively dissipated much of her anger, but it still took her over an hour to talk herself the rest of the way down. Then she rose from the lounge and made her way to the replicator, where she called up a hypospray of inaprovaline and injected herself. As the synthehol cleared her system and her brain began working normally again, the guilt and fear that crashed onto her nearly sent her to her knees. Oh, Jesus, what had she done? She stood motionless by the replicator, mentally reviewing what she could remember of their fight—her fight, actually, because she didn’t recall Lynne saying a word—and knew that she could never crawl low enough or long enough to get out of this hole. God, she’d made a mess of things.

Well, time to face the firing squad.

“Computer, locate Lynne Hamilton.”

“Lynne Hamilton is in the weight room.”

Janeway straightened her uniform jacket, ran trembling fingers through her hair, took a deep breath, and walked out of her quarters.

 

 

-----

 

 

There were several people using the weight room, unfortunately. Janeway hadn’t envisioned herself apologizing to Lynne in front of an audience, and she stood at the door, uncertain about her course of action. Then she squared her shoulders, stepped into the room, and waited to be noticed. She wasn’t a weightlifter and had been in this room exactly once, during her initial tour of the ship at Utopia Planitia. As expected, her appearance got results.

“Captain on deck!” called the ensign nearest her, snapping to attention. Four of the other five crew also dropped their weights and stood at attention. Lynne, however, did not move from her prone position on a weight bench. Nor did she pause in her repetitions as she lifted a 15-kilo weight with her left arm.

“At ease,” said Janeway. She smiled at the sweating crew. “I apologize for interrupting your workout, but I need to speak with Ms. Hamilton alone.”

“Of course, Captain,” said the ensign, gathering up her towel and gear bag. All of the crew nodded at Janeway as they filed past, and she gave each of them a smile. When the door shut behind them she put a privacy lockout on it.

“That was pretty rude,” said Lynne from the bench. She still hadn’t paused in her repetitions.

Janeway walked over to stand beside her, a sinking feeling in her stomach as she watched her wife focusing intently on her lifts. It wasn’t a good sign that Lynne wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Lynne, I’m sorry,” she said.

Lynne snorted. “Really.” She changed the angle of her lifts and began a new set. Janeway looked more closely at her and could see the signs of an intense workout; Lynne was soaked with sweat. She’d pushed herself so hard she’d overwhelmed her nanoprobes’ ability to regulate her body temperature.

“Yes, really,” said Janeway. “Will you please look at me? We need to talk about this.”

Lynne made no response as she completed the set. Then she sat up swiftly, allowing the barbell to propel her upright, and without warning dropped the weight at Janeway’s feet. Only her years of experience kept Janeway from showing her surprise, and she knew she was in for it. Lynne’s eyes, when they finally met hers, were smoldering with anger and hurt.

“What could you possibly have to say to me now?” Lynne asked. “You’ve pretty much gone through the whole list already. Every hurtful thing you could think of to crush me and make me feel worse than I already do. And it was all true, Kathryn, so it’s not like you can take any of it back.”

She stood up, brushed past Janeway and stalked over to the pull-up bar. Janeway followed her. “You have a right to be angry,” she began.

“You’re damn right I do!” shouted Lynne, wheeling around and glaring at her. Janeway stopped in shock.

“I could see something was wrong,” Lynne said in a quieter voice. “Maybe it took me a minute to notice, but Jesus, I saw it as soon as I actually looked at you. I thought, ‘oh no, here I’ve been babbling about my great day and it looks like Kathryn’s had a bad one.’ I thought maybe I could help. I thought maybe you’d tell me what was wrong and we’d work on it together, or if not, at least I could hold you and give you my support. Because that’s what you do for the one you love, right?”

Janeway closed her eyes. “Right,” she whispered.

“But not you,” said Lynne harshly. “You just used me as a fucking emotional punching bag. And it hurt, Kathryn. It really hurt.” Her voice broke on the last word, and Janeway was horrified to see her face crumple.

“Oh, Lynne,” she breathed, reaching out. But Lynne knocked her hands away.

“Don’t touch me!” she shouted, her face once again a mask of anger. “God! I don’t want you near me right now. I’m so mad at you I can’t even see straight. And I’m mad at myself, too, for believing you all those times you told me it would be okay, that what I did on Earth was meant to be, that this was the right timeline. You never meant any of it, did you?”

“Yes, I did.”

Lynne looked at her in disbelief. “Well, what the fuck am I supposed to believe, Kathryn? What you told me for fourteen months, or what you shouted at me tonight? How many drinks did you have? Enough to loosen your tongue, so that you finally said what you really thought? In vino veritas, right?”

“Wrong,” said Janeway, hearing a tone of desperation in her voice and not caring. She needed to undo this. “I had four whiskey and sodas, and it was enough to totally fuck up my brain and make me say things I didn’t mean. I’m sorry, Lynne. That’s not what I really think.”

Lynne snorted and turned away from her, jumping up to wrap her hands around the pull-up bar. “So what do you really think, then?” she asked as she began a set of overhand pull-ups.

“The same thing I’ve been telling you for the last fourteen months,” said Janeway, walking around to face her. Lynne resolutely continued her exercises, her eyes locked on the ceiling. Janeway dropped her head and took a deep breath, then looked up once more. “Please believe me,” she said softly. “I haven’t been lying to you. I know you did what you thought was best, and I honestly believe it was meant to be. Lynne, you’ve always acted with honor and integrity, and it’s one of the things I love most about you. But tonight I was so wrapped up in my own situation that I wasn’t seeing anything but the fact that I just—” she stopped, the reality of her situation slamming home. And this time, without the dulling effect of the synthehol, she had no protection against the emotions that accompanied the realization. She looked helplessly at her wife, who still refused to meet her eyes. “I just gave up my career,” she said, barely managing to keep her voice even. Then she covered her mouth with her hand and turned away, putting every gram of willpower into the fight not to cry.

A few seconds later a soft thump sounded behind her. She froze, waiting to see what Lynne would do.

Footsteps closed the distance between them, and she could actually feel the heat radiating off her wife’s body. Long seconds passed as they stood still, until Lynne finally spoke into her ear.

“I’m sorry, Kathryn,” she whispered. “I really am. And it is my fault.”

Janeway shook her head. She couldn’t speak without breaking down, and she didn’t seem to be able to move, either.

“Yes, it is,” said Lynne. “Everything you said was true. That’s why it hurt so much. If you were just blowing smoke I could deal with it. But I am the reason for all of this. And it all dates back to that fucking message. If I could do it over again—” She stopped and took an audible breath. “Kathryn, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

The pain and bewilderment in her voice overcame Janeway’s paralysis, and when she turned around the expression on her wife’s face was like a knife through her heart.

“I don’t know what to do,” Lynne repeated. “I’m supposed to love and protect you, and I’ve got the loving part down, but I suck at the rest.”

Janeway shook her head again and stepped toward her, but Lynne took a step back and held up her hand. “I’m dripping with sweat; you don’t want to touch me.”

Finally Janeway found her voice. “If you don’t let me hold you right now, I’m going to completely fall apart. I could care less that you’re sweaty.” She stepped forward again, and this time Lynne opened her arms. With a choked cry, Janeway fell into them, crushing Lynne to her and burying her face in a damp shoulder.

“Please forgive me,” she said, her voice breaking. “What I did was inexcusable. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I did that to you.”

“I’m sorry too,” said Lynne, holding her tightly. “I know your career means everything to you.”

“Not everything,” whispered Janeway. “Thank god I still have you.”

Lynne went still. “Do you mean that?”

Janeway lifted her head. “Of course I mean that. Jesus, Lynne, sometimes I think you’re all that stands between me and insanity. I love you so much it scares me. I can live without Starfleet, but I can’t live without you.”

Lynne closed her eyes and shook her head. “I want to believe that.”

Janeway forgot her own misery for a moment as she stared at her wife. “Why would you doubt it?” she asked.

“Be..because you said—” Lynne took a deep breath and visibly controlled herself, though she couldn’t stop the tears that began to leak out. “You said that everything that meant anything to you was tied up in that uniform.” The naked pain in her eyes took Janeway’s breath away.

“Oh, sweetheart…” She tried to wipe the tears from Lynne’s face, to no avail. They continued to spill over from an apparently infinite supply, and Janeway felt her heart breaking. How could she have done this much damage to the person she loved most in the world? She looked intently into Lynne’s eyes, forcing herself to see the pain she’d caused.

“Lynne, I love you. First and foremost, I love you, and that isn’t going to change. Now that you’ve reminded me, I vaguely remember saying that about the uniform, but I was out of my fucking mind and I didn’t know what I was saying. That is not the only thing that’s important to me. You are important to me, more than anything. Anything. And if I had to choose between Starfleet and you, I’d choose you.”

Lynne stared disbelievingly, and in that moment, Janeway realized the truth of her words. She’d never thought of it in those terms before, but now that she had, a calm acceptance settled over her. It wasn’t the end of the world, was it? So she’d be court-martialed when she got home; how important was that, really? When she walked out of that court, her crew would be alive and Lynne would be waiting for her. She’d far rather have Lynne and no rank than keep her captain’s pips and lose Lynne.

The realization left her a little lightheaded, and an uncontrollable smile broke out across her face. Lynne wiped her eyes and looked at her in amazement.

“Why are you smiling?”

Janeway squeezed her. “Because I just figured out that I really don’t give a tribble’s ass about the court martial. Not as long as I have you.”

Plainly Lynne was stunned. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Janeway laughed. “I know, you probably think I’ve just lost my mind.” Lynne’s wide-eyed expression confirmed Janeway’s words, and she laughed again. “No, sweetheart, I haven’t lost my mind. I just cleared it, that’s all. I just figured out what’s really important, and it’s not politics, or keeping this uniform. It’s doing what I’ve been doing—getting this crew home intact, and loving you. I lost sight of that for a while tonight, but I’ve got it back now.”

Lynne still looked askance. “I think we should have Revi check you out. This doesn’t sound normal.”

“I think,” said Janeway, “that this is more normal than I’ve been in a while.” Her momentary mirth vanished as she looked into the face of the woman she’d hurt so badly, and for the worst of reasons.

“Lynne,” she said softly, “I am sorry. Please believe that. There’s no excuse for taking out my fear and my anger on you. I blamed you, and it was unfair of me because I know you’re already blaming yourself. But you shouldn’t, and I definitely shouldn’t, and you have no idea how much I wish I could take back what I said. And I have no right to ask this, but I’m asking you anyway. Can you ever forgive me?”

There was no answer for several seconds as Lynne simply looked at her.

“That really hurt,” she said finally. “I felt like you were just waiting for me to walk in so you could unload on me.”

The shame that washed over Janeway was nearly unbearable. The next words were some of the hardest she’d ever had to say, and she dropped her eyes as she admitted, “I think…I think that’s what I did.”

Fingers under her chin drew her eyes back up, and she forced herself to meet Lynne’s gaze steadily.

“I need to know the truth,” said Lynne. “Did you do that because you blame me, or not? You said you shouldn’t blame me, and you said you think what I did was for the best, but you haven’t said you don’t blame me.”

“I don’t blame you,” said Janeway instantly. “I honestly don’t. I was just looking for a scapegoat because I was angry and lost and I thought my life was over—and I was being a total asshole. But I don’t blame you.”

Lynne dropped her hand and sighed. “Well, in answer to your question, yes, I forgive you. Mostly because you have every right to blame me, Kathryn. It is my fault. I know what you mean about wanting to take back your words, because I sure wish I could take mine back and undo this whole mess. It’s not just your life I’ve fucked up. I’ve put everyone on this ship at risk.”

And now some of Janeway’s anger returned, but this time it was directed at herself. She’d spent so much time trying to ease Lynne’s mind on this subject, and in one unthinking burst of temper she’d undone it all.

“Listen to me,” she said, resting her hands on Lynne’s waist. “You are not responsible for the fact that somebody back home is warped enough to kill this entire crew just to get at you. Nor are you responsible for the fact that Gutierrez sees his political career as a higher priority than our safety. That is not your fault. You can’t take that on yourself, Lynne. It has to do with other people’s choices, not yours.”

“Yeah, but those people wouldn’t be in a place to make those choices if it hadn’t been for me,” said Lynne unhappily.

“Lynne, stop that. Please.” Janeway pulled her in for a hug and added, “On second thought, I don’t want you to forgive me. I want you to forgive yourself. That’s more important.”

“It’s easier to forgive you,” said Lynne.

“Well then, maybe we can make a deal. I’ll forgive you if you forgive me. And I come out ahead, because I have a lot less to forgive.”

Lynne’s arms tightened around her, but she said nothing for long moments. Finally her grip eased as she said, “Okay. It’s a deal.”

Janeway pulled back and looked into her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “You’re far, far easier on me than I deserve.”

Lynne just shook her head and gave her a half-smile. “Can we let the guys back in now?” she asked.

“Oh, god! I forgot.” Janeway cringed; Jesus, she was really breaking all the rules tonight. Defying the President, getting drunk, unloading on Lynne, kicking crewmembers out of a public space…she needed to go home, go to bed, and not come out until tomorrow morning.

Not that tomorrow would be much better. But at least she’d have Lynne with her.

She let go of Lynne’s waist and clasped one of her hands instead. “Are you done with your workout?” she asked.

“You mean my anger management hour? Yeah, I’m done.”

“Good. Then let’s open this place up and go home.” She paused. “And watch out for the broken glass as you walk in the door.”

Lynne raised her eyebrow.

“I’m not as efficient as you are,” Janeway said.

“Did it make you feel any better?”

Janeway held up her hand, forefinger and thumb about one centimeter apart. “A little.”

Lynne nodded. “If you want, I’ll replicate you a bunch more and you can practice. Obviously your aim is way off.”

Janeway felt her heart growing lighter at Lynne’s attempt to defuse the situation. “Come on, smartass,” she said, tugging on Lynne’s hand. “I’ll show you all about aim when we play Velocity tomorrow.”

“Your time will come,” warned Lynne as they walked toward the door.

“No doubt,” agreed Janeway. “But it won’t be tomorrow.”

 

 

-----

 

 

When Lynne came out of the shower, wearing her silk robe and with her hair slicked back, there was a crackle of energy around her that Janeway recognized. She put her PADD down and waited as Lynne settled on the coffee table in front of her.

“Kathryn, I just thought of something.”

“What, sweetheart?”

“The President ordered you to use the slipstream drive because he wants me, right?”

Janeway nodded.

“Which really means he wants the Foundation’s money. But I’m the one who controls where that money goes. Or at least, I will be when we get home.”

Janeway waited for the rest, but Lynne just looked at her. And then it hit.

“You’re going to threaten the President of the Federation?” she asked incredulously.

Lynne waved a hand in dismissal. “Threaten is such an unpleasant word. I was thinking more along the lines of a simple negotiation. If he wants the Foundation’s funds, then he needs to play by my rules. And the first one is, no court martial.”

“What are the rest?” said Janeway, dazed.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll figure that out as we go.”

Janeway shook her head. “Lynne, you can’t hold an entire government hostage for one person. That’s not right.”

“Oh, and it’s right to order the crew of a ship to commit suicide because next year is an election year? Don’t give me that crap, Kathryn. We’re not talking about the noble ideals of the Federation. We’re talking about politics, pure and simple, and about one man’s ambition and ruthlessness. I can be ruthless too. He’s fucking with me and more importantly, he’s fucking with the woman I love, and I don’t take too kindly to that.”

She wasn’t kidding. The look on her face backed up her words, and Janeway’s thoughts immediately went to a dead officer on Dakmor, and five brutally beaten Arnett soldiers. No, Lynne had already proven that she could be ruthless.

“I’d rather be court-martialed than let you get involved with that kind of dirty politics,” she said. “You’d be making some very powerful enemies. I can’t let you do that.”

But Lynne just gave her an even look. “You’re looking at this from the wrong direction, Kathryn. President Gutierrez is the one who just made a powerful enemy.”

Janeway stared. Who the hell was this woman sitting in front of her? It looked like Lynne, but it didn’t sound like her.

Lynne reached out for her hands. “I know you want to protect me, and I know you think I’m going to be a babe in the woods, but I understand human nature and I know for a fact that it hasn’t changed much in four hundred years. Kathryn, I have the memories of some very skilled tacticians in my cortical implant. Gutierrez wants something I hold, and he can’t get it unless I freely give it to him. That means I have the power. So he’s fucked. More than that, he’s an idiot. What the hell was he thinking, threatening you to get to me? That man did not do his homework.”

Janeway was still a bit dazed. She shook her head, a smile slowly spreading over her face. “I’ve got a feeling Gutierrez is going to be sorry he ever heard of you,” she said.

“You got that right,” said Lynne. She tugged on Janeway’s hands. “Come on, I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Janeway was exhausted by the time they went to bed. The emotional roller coaster of the evening had wrung her out, and she was more than ready to sleep. Lynne, however, had other ideas, and began caressing her with obvious intent.

“Mmm.” Janeway rolled her head to the side and looked over at her wife. “That feels great, sweetheart, but I’m trashed. I don’t think I’ve got it in me.”

Lynne gentled her caresses. “Then let me just take care of you. You won’t have to do a thing.”

The nice thing about that was, she really meant it. Janeway nodded, closed her eyes and gave herself over to a hedonistic enjoyment.

Lynne’s hands were all over her, slowly building her up. After a very long time, the hands were followed by lips, pressing kisses so softly that at times Janeway wasn’t sure whether she was really feeling them, or whether it was her imagination. She floated in a haze of sleepy contentment, sexually aroused but unwilling to make the effort to do anything about it.

She didn’t have to. Lynne knew just how to touch her, and when the soft lips finally closed around a nipple, Janeway felt an unmistakable surge between her legs. She might be half asleep, but by god her body was ready to go.

Lynne suckled her for what seemed like hours, never biting, never showing any of the aggression that often marked their more passionate lovemaking. This was about protection, about cherishing and loving, and Janeway felt absolutely worshiped. It was divine.

Long fingers made their way down her stomach, pausing to caress and rub, then slid into the moisture between her thighs. She sighed happily, moving her legs slightly, accepting the gentle touch. The soft suckling continued as Janeway’s arousal gradually increased. When her hips began to move, Lynne left her breasts with a final kiss to each one and began kissing her way down to where her fingers were slowly teasing soft flesh.

Janeway opened her eyes to see Lynne kneeling at her side, her hair forming a curtain between them as she closed the gap between lips and fingers. And suddenly, the captain felt quite a bit more energetic. She reached out for Lynne’s waist, pulling it toward her. Lynne raised her head and looked at her.

“Straddle me,” whispered Janeway.

No other words were needed as Lynne swung a leg over Janeway’s torso and settled her knees on either side, lowering herself as she continued her oral journey. Janeway looked up at the most intimate view she would ever have, and reverently parted the tender skin with her fingers. There were no signs of arousal, not yet, but Janeway was certain that she could change that in a matter of minutes.

One downside to their very different body sizes was that traditional sixty-nine wasn’t possible for them. Lynne’s body was simply too long for them to be able to simultaneously pleasure each other with their mouths. So they’d developed a rhythm in which one of them would use her fingers while the other used her mouth; then they’d switch off in an unspoken communication.

Janeway ran her hands up Lynne’s thighs, tickled her fingers through curls of dark hair, then reached down to cup Lynne’s breasts. She loved the sensation of the soft weight filling her hands; it was one of her favorite things in the entire universe. Carefully she drew her fingers from the outside in, pulling gently on the nipples before repeating the motions. A muffled sound from Lynne, who was now kissing the crease between her thigh and hip, told her that her efforts were having an effect.

She continued her soft stroking motions until the moment that Lynne’s tongue touched her labia. The jolt that coursed through her body caused her fingers to tighten involuntarily, pinching Lynne’s nipples, and the cry she heard made her smile. God, she loved this, when the effort to concentrate on Lynne while ignoring her own body’s responses became a contest of will. What a pleasant battle to fight!

Lightly she dragged her fingernails across Lynne’s ribs, caressed the sensitive knee implants, then returned to the delicate folds that were being held tantalizingly out of reach of her mouth—and this time there was a telltale moisture present. She smiled as she began carefully spreading the lubricant with her fingers, then paused as she felt Lynne’s lips closing over her clitoris. Oh, Jesus, that felt wonderful. Her hips were grinding, and she had some time to make up if she was going to be able to catch Lynne’s responses up to her own.

With one hand she reached down and grasped a hovering nipple, pinching it and holding the pressure steady. Lynne squirmed and groaned, but her motions simply pulled the nipple more, since Janeway refused to move. With her other hand she carefully slid a finger inside Lynne, watching in fascination as it vanished into the most intimate recesses of her body. After a final tug, she released the nipple, trailing her hand along the underside of the breast.

In retaliation, Lynne slid two fingers inside while flicking a hard tongue over her clitoris, and Janeway couldn’t stop the jerk of her hips. She felt teeth grazing over her skin and knew that Lynne hadn’t pulled her head back in time.

“Sorry,” she whispered, easing her finger out and replacing it with two.

“Don’t be,” came the reply. “You can smack me in the face anytime you want to.”

The ridiculous imagery that instantly came to mind made Janeway chuckle, but her amusement ended a half second later when Lynne deliberately shifted her body forward, bringing herself down to Janeway’s mouth. With a groan of anticipation, Janeway grasped her hips and held her in place, closing her eyes as she took her first taste. She had no idea if Lynne’s flavor was representative of most women, nor did she have any desire to find out. All she knew was that she’d learned to love the delicate salt-sweet taste, and that initial tang on her tongue which almost instantly melted away. Sometimes, when they made love in the mornings, the flavor was stronger. Lynne was always a little reticent about allowing oral sex when she felt “grungy,” as she put it, but Janeway never cared about that. If she’d been forced to make a choice, however, she’d have to admit that this flavor, when Lynne was fresh from a shower, was her favorite. It was so delicate as to be nearly undetectable.

Trying valiantly to ignore the sensations that Lynne was causing with her fingers, Janeway used both fingers and tongue to bring her wife to a point of high arousal. When Lynne’s hips began to move too much, breaking the connection between her tongue and where she wanted to be, Janeway regretfully pulled out her fingers and used both hands to stabilize the rocking hips. She wrapped her lips around the clitoris and sucked hard before releasing it and swiping a pointed tongue across. Lynne jerked and cried out, then tore herself away and backed up again.

“No,” protested Janeway, who hadn’t had nearly enough, but she was rendered nonverbal a moment later when Lynne resumed her own oral caresses. Then Janeway felt herself filled completely, and knew that Lynne had entered her with three fingers. She copied the motion, smiling when a low hum of contentment vibrated across her sensitive tissues.

Janeway upped the stakes, slowly pushing her fingers as far as they would go, then pulling them out at an equally slow pace. As she continued her thrusts, she brought her other hand up, slid a finger on either side of Lynne’s clitoris and began a gentle massaging motion. The contented hum changed to a muffled cry, and Lynne began her own thrusting, matching Janeway’s pace and intensifying the pressure of her tongue and lips.

When Janeway felt her orgasm building, she pushed on Lynne’s hips, trying to get her to shift forward again. But Lynne was on a mission and refused to move, instead shaking her head from side to side without breaking contact. She wrapped her arms around Janeway’s thighs, locked on to her sweet spot and stayed there.

Janeway knew it was over; Lynne was going to push her right through to the end. She continued pumping her fingers, but her finesse fell off considerably as the sensations Lynne was causing burned up her available thought processes. Her hips were grinding, but Lynne held them down, and the pressure on her thighs increased her arousal.

“Lynne…” She wanted so badly to have Lynne in her mouth when she came, and raised her head in a fruitless attempt to get there, but then the orgasm crashed through her and she dropped back, her entire body convulsing as she cried out.

Lynne drove her through the orgasm and then gentled her touch, her lips and tongue making whisper-soft contact with oversensitive tissues. Even that contact was enough to send Janeway’s body jerking uncontrollably. She felt like an electroshock patient, helpless to stop her body from violently responding to each touch, and Lynne kept it up past her comfort level. At last she pleaded with her to stop, her voice hoarse and breathless.

With final, gentle kisses to the insides of Janeway’s thighs, Lynne began to bring her leg over, but Janeway held her in place with a sudden resurgence of strength.

“Oh, no you don’t,” she growled.

Lynne went still. “Kathryn, you don’t need to,” she said. “I just wanted to do this for you.”

“I didn’t say I needed to. I want to. Come down here.” She pulled on Lynne’s hips and smiled when her efforts yielded results. Carefully Lynne positioned herself, and with an inarticulate growl Janeway buried her tongue, then pulled it out and replaced it with three fingers, pushed in as far as they would go. She curled the fingers and pressed on the slick walls, holding the pressure as she began pumping in and out. Feeling a weight settle on her thigh, she knew Lynne had given up the fight to stay upright and was resting her head. Janeway smiled to herself just before beginning the oral caresses she’d been denied for too long. It was hard to keep the movements gentle when Lynne’s hips were rocking so strongly, but she was up to the challenge. She wanted this to last. Lynne’s position was a physical symbol of her total trust, a trust Janeway didn’t feel entirely deserving of, and she wanted to prove her worthiness. Whether that proof was to herself or to Lynne, she didn’t know.

She lost track of time, immersed in the total sensual pleasure of what she was doing, and it was with some surprise that she heard and felt the telltale signs of the approaching orgasm. She slowed down, attempting to prolong the pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” pleaded Lynne, and for once Janeway listened to her. She resumed her caresses, locking her tongue on and not moving from the spot guaranteed to send Lynne over the edge.

A stifled sob communicated Lynne’s gratitude, and it was only a minute later that she felt her fingers grasped and held by strong internal muscles as Lynne jerked her head up and cried out. Janeway couldn’t maintain her place; the motions of Lynne’s hips were too extreme, so she just kept up her thrusting and used her other hand to continue stimulating the clitoris.

Lynne whimpered and dropped her head on Janeway’s thighs, her body trembling. Finally she slid forward, pulling out of reach and resting prone, her legs draped over Janeway’s torso.

“God,” she said, panting. “I didn’t expect that.”

Janeway was smug. “You seduced me and you didn’t expect I’d respond?”

“You were half-asleep, Kathryn.”

“I woke up.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” With obvious effort, Lynne crawled off Janeway’s body, turned around and flopped down again, her head hitting the pillow with considerable force. “You know,” she said, staring at the ceiling, “there’s got to be some strategic value to the fact that Borg implants apparently lose all strength immediately after orgasm.”

“Maybe,” said Janeway, “but I’m certainly not going there.” Knowing that Lynne would take a few minutes to recover, she reached down to retrieve the bedclothes and pulled them back up. Then she settled on her side, looking at Lynne’s profile and feeling a lump come into her throat.

“Lynne,” she said softly, “how many more times are you going to forgive me?”

Lynne shifted onto her side and reached out a hand. Janeway clasped it, swallowing the lump as she stared at their rings.

“As many times as you do me, I guess.” Janeway looked up, and Lynne smiled at her. “God knows I’m not perfect, Kathryn. You took a lot of shit from me when I was going through my rage phase.”

That was true. After Lynne had received her prosthetic arm and completed that first climb, she’d moved from pain to anger. But the target of her anger was dead, leaving her with no real outlet. And Janeway had borne the brunt of it at times.

“But you had a good reason,” said Janeway.

Lynne squeezed her hand. “So did you.”

Shaking her head, Janeway said, “There’s no good reason for lashing out at you like that. You’re the one person I most want to keep safe from that side of me.”

“Well, I’m not going to say I don’t mind, because I do, but the truth is you can’t hide parts of yourself from me, Kathryn. I’m in this for the long run, and that means knowing all of you.”

“I don’t want to admit that’s a part of me,” Janeway whispered. “I hate it. I was so out of control. And then you came in, so happy, and I wanted—” she stopped, unable to verbalize the thought. I wanted to wipe that fucking smile off your face, so I did. God, what kind of person was she? How could Lynne love her the way she did?

“You wanted what?” asked Lynne.

Janeway rolled onto her back and closed her eyes. She couldn’t say it. But she felt Lynne shifting in the bed, and knew she wouldn’t leave it alone.

“What did you want, Kathryn?”

She opened her eyes. Lynne was propped up on one elbow, looking down at her in concern. Janeway shook her head. “Never mind. It’s not worth getting into.”

“Were you going to say you wanted to hurt me?”

Janeway apparently didn’t do a good job of keeping the dismay off her face, because Lynne nodded knowingly. “Kathryn, can I tell you something?”

Janeway just looked at her, and Lynne took her expression as consent.

“There were times, when I was so angry about what the Queen did to me, that I wanted to hurt you.” She nodded at Janeway’s open mouthed stare. “Yeah. You, the woman who saved my ass, the woman I love more than life itself, the woman who did everything she could to help me through it all. I wanted to hurt you. Because you were perfect.”

“I’m not perfect!”

“Oh, yes you are. Physically you are. You’d tell me all about how you accepted my implants and I should too, how they didn’t detract from my beauty, and I’d look at you and think, ‘It’s fine for her to say that. She’s not the one with the fucking implants.’ I’d look at you with your unbroken skin; your perfect, gorgeous skin, and sometimes I hated you for being so beautiful and untouched. I loved you, and I hated you, and I wanted to hurt you but I felt so fucking guilty about it, and it all rolled together into an anger that I really think was more toward myself than anyone else. But you got a lot of it anyway.”

She reached out and caressed the side of Janeway’s face. “I never wanted to tell you any of that, because I never wanted you to know I’d had that inside of me. I don’t anymore,” she added quickly, “and that’s thanks entirely to you. But I can’t let you feel like the lone stranger here. You’re not the only one who has less than desirable emotions in her heart.”

Janeway caught Lynne’s hand, turned her head and planted a trembling kiss on the palm. She couldn’t even speak. Lynne seemed to be able to see right through her, right into the darkest recesses of her soul, and loved her anyway.

She closed her eyes and forced her voice to work. “I don’t deserve you.”

Soft lips covered hers, and when they left she opened her eyes again. Lynne was looking at her with a very serious expression on her face.

“Kathryn, you’re not listening to me. I’m trying to tell you that we deserve each other.”

With a choked cry, Janeway surged up and pushed Lynne onto her back. She crawled on top, feeling comforting arms come around her back, and took Lynne’s mouth in a kiss that was the only thing between her and a complete loss of self-control. Pulling away slightly, she mumbled, “I love you,” and then resumed their kisses with such an intensity that Lynne could barely keep up. She couldn’t get enough contact; she wanted to crawl inside Lynne and stay there; she just couldn’t get close enough. Her frustration increased; the kisses became more bruising, and then she suddenly pulled back and hid her face in Lynne’s neck as the tears rose. “I do love you,” she whispered. “Please believe me.”

Lynne squeezed her tightly. “I believe you.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I know you love me. One night of anger isn’t going to change that.”

“But you didn’t know it in the weight room. You believed me when I said that stupid, fucking thing about my uniform.” The tears breached her self-control and began to roll down her face, dampening Lynne’s neck.

Lynne rubbed her back comfortingly. “I lost faith for an hour. Only an hour, and then you came back to me and fixed it.”

“But how can it be so easy for you to lose faith? What am I not doing right that you could believe that?”

“Kathryn…” Lynne’s voice was soft. “I swear to god you’re doing everything right. Don’t take this on yourself. You’re not responsible for my insecurities.”

Janeway raised her head and met Lynne’s eyes. “But I should be. You should be so secure in our love that you’d never doubt me, even if I was drunk and stupid.”

“Kathryn,” groaned Lynne. “What can I say to convince you?” She put one hand on either side of Janeway’s head and held it tightly. “I. Love. You. And I do not doubt your love for me. If I did, do you think I would have come back to you after only ten minutes in the weight room? If I was really uncertain, you’d have spent days or weeks wooing me back. But you talked me out of my insecurities in minutes. Obviously they can’t be that strong to go away so easily.”

Janeway gave that some thought, and while she was thinking about it Lynne pulled her down for a gentle kiss. When they separated, Lynne added, “I think you’ve got it in your head that you have to be as perfect a wife as you are a captain. You don’t. You just have to be you.”

“I’m so much better at being a captain,” Janeway muttered. Then reality struck. “At least, I was.”

“Oh, no you don’t. Don’t start that. You’re not losing your rank, because I won’t let it happen. And you’re not losing me for the same reason. Okay?”

It wasn’t, not really, but Janeway didn’t want Lynne to feel bad about it. “Okay,” she said.

Lynne just stared at her. “No, it’s not. But I don’t think we’re going to fix everything right now. Come here.” She pulled Janeway to her chest and held her.

“I used to be a much better liar,” said Janeway ruefully.

“You still are. Out there. You’re just transparent in here.” Lynne began rubbing gentle circles on her back, and Janeway slowly relaxed. She was nearing sleep when Lynne dropped a kiss on her head and whispered, “If you wake up and I’m not here, don’t panic. It’s a regeneration night for me.”

“Damn,” Janeway mumbled. “Could you put it off for one night?”

“I wish I could. But I kind of drove myself to the limit in the weight room. I really need a recharge. I just don’t want you to worry if I’m not here.”

“Thanks.” Janeway appreciated Lynne’s thoughtfulness; she’d forgotten it was a regeneration night.

“You’re welcome. Go to sleep, love.”

 

 

-----

 

 

When Janeway woke at 0430, she didn’t immediately remember where Lynne was. For just a moment she stared at the smooth sheets on the other side of the bed and felt sick. Then it came back to her and she was faint with relief.

She’s not gone. I didn’t drive her away.

Yeah, well, not for lack of trying, Katie.

She got up to use the restroom, and when she came back out she stood uncertainly by her bedside. Then she shook her head and turned around, ready for a shower. She knew herself well enough to know she wasn’t getting back to sleep again. It was only two hours before her alarm went off anyway; she might as well get something done.

She showered and dressed, replicated a cup of coffee and sat at her desk to get a head start on her day. But by 0515 she gave up and dropped the PADD she was reading. It was no use; she just couldn’t concentrate. She rubbed her eyes and took another sip of her coffee, wondering why it was taking so long to kick in. She was too tired to work and too awake to sleep. Something had to give.

Making a decision, she pushed her chair back, grabbed her uniform jacket, and went out the door. The few crewmembers she passed nodded their greetings, and soon she was standing in front of the regeneration unit. She keyed in her code and stepped inside, seeing at a glance that Lynne was regenerating alone. As always, she was in full uniform; she’d never regenerated in anything else since recovering from her post-assimilation surgery. Janeway hadn’t asked, but she suspected Lynne wanted to distance herself from those days when she’d been too physically torn up to wear anything but loose clothing.

She stepped up to the dais and slowly approached her wife, not quite sure why she was there but knowing that she already felt better.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said softly. “I woke up at 0430 and couldn’t get back to sleep. That bed is too goddamned empty when you’re not in it.” She reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind Lynne’s ear, then kissed her lightly on the cheek. “And then I tried looking over what Seven and B’Elanna have done so far on the phase propulsion technology, because I know I’m going to get a hell of a call from Admiral Necheyev this morning and I wanted to be prepared with some sort of alternative for the slipstream drive…but I couldn’t concentrate. So I came here.”

She paused, looking at the smooth features before her with appreciation. “God, you’re beautiful,” she said. “I think you’re more beautiful now than when I first fell in love with you. And I’ve got to remember to tell you that when you’re awake.”

She closed her eyes briefly, suddenly feeling tired. Sleep sounded like a wonderful idea, but she knew it wouldn’t happen. Much as she hated to admit it, she never slept as well anymore when Lynne wasn’t there. When she began swaying on her feet, her eyes snapped open again and she reached out to a support pillar to steady herself. Then she sighed and lowered herself to the deck, pulling her knees up and resting her back against Lynne’s legs. She’d just sit here for a few minutes and then start her shift a bit early. Might as well get a jump on things; this was going to be a bitch of a day. She let her head fall back, cradled in the slight gap between Lynne’s legs, and closed her eyes.

 

 

-----

 

 

“Regeneration cycle complete.”

Janeway woke up as her body was jarred. What the hell?

“Kathryn! Are you all right?” Lynne’s worried voice sounded over her head, and she tilted her head back to look up a long length of body in a black and gold uniform. Lynne was looking back at her, concern clearly written on her features.

“I’m fine,” Janeway said hoarsely, then cleared her throat. She’d fallen asleep? This was a little embarrassing. She reached out for the support pillar and pulled herself up, her legs and back protesting. Jesus, she was far too old to be sleeping on the deck.

Lynne stepped out of the alcove, the familiar disconnect sound accompanying her movement. “You startled me,” she said. “I knew you were here, but I didn’t realize you were there.” She gestured at her legs. “I nearly took a header over you when I tried to leave the alcove.” She examined Janeway’s face closely. “You’ve never done that before. Are you still worrying about us, or is this face because of Gutierrez?”

“Mostly Gutierrez.” Janeway rubbed her eyes. “A little about us.”

Lynne swept her into a hug, and Janeway held on, shamelessly enjoying the closeness. She felt off her game today.

“Don’t worry about us,” said Lynne. “We’re fine. And we’re going to kick Gutierrez’ ass.”

Janeway chuckled. “That’ll be a bit hard at this distance.”

“No worries. We’ll get home first, then we’ll kick his ass. I love you, you know.”

And magically, the universe got a lot smaller and a lot easier to handle. Janeway pulled back, her arms still locked around Lynne’s waist. “I love you too. And there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

Janeway smiled. “You’re more beautiful now than when I first fell in love with you.”

Lynne looked startled, then grinned and pulled Janeway back in for a breath-stealing hug. “I think you need to sleep in here more often.”

“I don’t. My butt is seriously unhappy with me. That deck is hard.”

Lynne pulled back and gave her a lascivious wink. “Maybe I could massage it for you.”

“Oh, I don’t think we should start that right now. But I could take a rain check.”

“You got it.” Lynne leaned in for a kiss to seal the deal.

“I need to get onto the bridge,” whispered Janeway when they separated.

“I know. And I need to get back to my holodeck torture program.”

Janeway snorted. “Does Tuvok know this about you?” She turned to make her way off the dais, but her hand was caught in a strong grip. She looked back in question.

“Kathryn,” said Lynne seriously. “You are far more beautiful now than when I first fell in love with you.” She closed the distance between them and held her hand over Janeway’s heart. “Because now I see this as well as the outside. And it’s lovely.”

Janeway’s breath caught in her throat. “How do you always know exactly what to say?” she managed after a few seconds. “That’s the part that hasn’t felt very attractive lately.”

“I know,” said Lynne. “But it is. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” She kissed Janeway lightly on the lips, then gave her a grin. “Go knock ‘em dead. And if anyone gives you any grief, I want their names.”

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 23

 

 

Janeway looked around the conference table. Every face there was deadly serious, and she had a feeling they knew what had happened already. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered making official announcements when the gossip circuit was so much more efficient.

“As you all know,” she began, “I received a call from President Gutierrez yesterday. What you may not know is that he ordered me to use the slipstream drive and gave me a twenty-four-hour deadline.” Since it had already been over twenty hours, the conclusion was fairly obvious. “I refused to obey the order.”

A collective intake of air registered their dismay, and she saw Revi and Seven glance at each other.

“I believed, and still do believe, that the slipstream drive as it stands is far too dangerous to use. Someday, when we can redesign it from the ground up, we may be able to eliminate the phase variance. But until then, I will not allow political expediency to dictate my risk assessment.” She took a sip of coffee, fortifying herself for the next part, then locked eyes with Chakotay.

“It’s very likely that the outcome of that conversation will result in a call to you, Commander, and probably by this morning’s MIDAS link. You may be ordered to remove me from my office and assume the captaincy of Voyager.”

“They can order me all they want to,” said Chakotay. “But I won’t do it.”

“In that case, you’ll be facing the same court martial that I am,” she warned him. “There will be consequences.”

He shrugged. “There are consequences to every decision we make, Captain. I’m not particularly worried about what Starfleet thinks of me at this point in time. Not if it’s the same Starfleet that would strip your rank just because you’re protecting your crew.”

Janeway gave him a small smile, then turned to Tuvok. “Tuvok, the next call would go to you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I would also refuse.”

“And before you even look at me,” said Revi from the end of the table, “I’d be hard-pressed not to tell them where they could shove their order. They’ll get no cooperation here.”

B’Elanna met her eyes. “If they get as far down the ranks as lieutenants, my language would probably be worse than Revi’s.”

“I hope to make captain someday,” said Harry, “but not that way.”

“And I never wanted to be a captain.” Tom smiled at her. “Too much paperwork.”

Janeway looked at them in turn and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “Your support means a lot to me right now.”

“Your leadership means a great deal to us,” said Seven. “Voyager would not have progressed this far without you.”

A general murmur of agreement accompanied this statement. Janeway smiled, feeling a weight lifting off her shoulders. Without support from her crew, Starfleet couldn’t do a thing. Not until they got home. And as long as her crew was home, then Starfleet could go right ahead and take its pound of flesh from her. She was more than willing to pay that price in exchange for their safety.

“There’s something else you need to know,” she said. “During our conversation, President Gutierrez made a reference to Harry’s personal opinion regarding my decision not to use the slipstream drive.”

“What?” said Harry. “How did he hear that? I never said anything to Starfleet or the Federation Council!”

“I didn’t think you did, Harry. But you obviously said something to someone.” She held up her hand to forestall his protests. “Harry, you’re entitled to your opinion. That’s not the issue here. The issue is that our personal messages are not private. They’re being scanned.”

A dead silence fell on the room as everyone no doubt thought of the things they’d said in past messages.

“Kahless,” muttered B’Elanna.

“I don’t understand,” said Harry. He looked like a boy whose idol had just spit on him. “Why would they do that?”

Janeway sighed. “Because we’ve become a political football.”

“Lynne,” said Revi.

Janeway nodded. “Yes. The word’s out, all the way up to the President’s office. He knows that the diversion of funds from the Federation won’t stop until Lynne gets home to stop it. And he’s up for reelection next year. It would be very beneficial to his administration if he could bring Voyager home and stop the hemorrhaging of funds. I suspect our messages are being scanned for any information that might be useful in that cause. It’s also possible that they’re being scanned by the person or persons responsible for the mousetrap.”

“If the perpetrator has connections to the President’s office,” said Tuvok, “his or her objective could have been accomplished by encouraging the President to order the use of the slipstream drive.”

“Whoa, wait a minute.” Tom looked around the table. “So we’ve got someone wanting us dead to keep Lynne from getting back to Earth, and the President willing to risk all our lives to make sure she gets back to Earth. And in the meantime, everything we send through MIDAS should be considered public. Does that about sum it up?”

All eyes went to Janeway, who nodded. “Yes, that about sums it up.”

“What a mess,” said Revi.

Janeway met her gaze and saw real anger there. “Agreed.” She raised a finger. “However, other than being careful of what we say in our messages, this should not affect the way we live our lives. What’s happening on Earth does not in any way impact our primary mission. Which is, to get home. Our way.” She looked at each one in turn. “We’ll keep exploring the theories and concepts that the Hamilton Foundation is sending. We’ll find a way. We’ll get home safely, and when we do, I’ll deal with the repercussions of yesterday’s conversation. But until then, we continue to explore; we continue to uphold the principles and ideals of the Federation; and we keep moving forward.”

They nodded, and she gave them the best smile she could come up with this morning. “Dismissed.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Revi dropped in shortly after the daily MIDAS link. When Janeway called her visitor into the ready room, she wasn’t surprised at the sight of her CMO. What did surprise her was having Revi walk right up to her and give her a hug without saying a word.

“I thought you might need one of those,” Revi said as they separated. “But I also figured you’d never ask. How are you doing?”

Janeway led the way to her upper level. “Tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please.”

Janeway brought it in her silver pot and poured their cups. Handing the first to Revi, she said, “I’m doing a lot better than yesterday. I can safely say that yesterday was a truly shitty day.”

“I’d imagine. I don’t know if anyone else will say it, Kathryn, but I for one would like to thank you for standing up for us. I know there’s going to be a price for it, and if there’s any way I can help you with it, let me know.”

“Thanks, Revi. I appreciate that.” Janeway sipped her drink. “I almost called you last night.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I was too ashamed to tell you why I needed you. But I managed to fix the problem anyway.”

“Kathryn.” Revi put her cup down. “You can’t drop these cryptic hints and expect me not to ask. What the hell happened?”

Janeway sipped again before putting her cup next to Revi’s and eyeing her friend. Six months ago it would have been difficult to impossible for her to confess her failure to anyone, even Revi. But she’d learned a lot since then, and one of the biggest lessons was that it was not only all right for her to be human in front of Revi—it was necessary for their friendship. And Revi wouldn’t judge her.

“What didn’t happen?” she said. “Let’s see, I got myself into a towering drunken rage, took it all out on Lynne, drove her out of our quarters, sobered up, went looking for her and begged her to come back, and by some miracle of the universe actually managed to get her to forgive me. I still don’t quite get it.”

“Yeah, well, join the club. I still don’t get how Seven could have forgiven me so easily, but I’m past the point of questioning it. I think we just have to accept that they’re not like us.”

Janeway nodded. “No. They’re a hell of a lot better.”

“Did you just insult me?”

The unexpected comment made Janeway laugh. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I was speaking strictly for myself.”

Revi picked up her cup again. “I was kidding. No, we’re in the same boat. Seven’s far too good for me. But she’s happy, so even if I think she’s a little blind when it comes to me, I don’t worry about it anymore. Much.” She looked at Janeway over the rim of her cup as she drank, then held it in both hands in front of her. “Is Lynne happy?”

“Well, that is the question, isn’t it?” Janeway leaned her head on her hand. “Based on what she said and did last night, I’d say yes. But there’s no getting around the fact that she’s the reason we’ve got people kicking us all over the football field. And she doesn’t always tell me everything she’s feeling. If you think I’m stubborn, you should try getting her to say something she doesn’t want to.”

“Nope,” said Revi. “I’ve already tried that. You need an interlink.”

Janeway smiled wistfully. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Then the smile dropped. “On second thought, no, I don’t think so. I would never have wanted her to actually see inside my head last night. She saw well enough as it was.” She leaned over to retrieve her cup and took a healthy gulp. “She told me something that completely astonished me, about how she felt during those weeks after she got her prosthetic arm. I never had any idea. And the only reason she mentioned anything at all was to let me know that I wasn’t alone in how I felt last night.”

“How did she feel?”

Janeway waggled her finger. “Ah ah ah. Nice try, Doctor. If you want to know that, ask her yourself.”

“Didn’t I just tell you I’ve already tried that?”

They smiled at each other and fell into an easy silence as they sipped their drinks. Revi was the one to break it.

“Kathryn, how are you really? It sounds like yesterday was pretty hard on you.”

“It was hard on both of us, Revi.”

“I know that. But right now I’m asking you.”

Janeway felt a sudden rush of affection for the woman sitting across from her. “You are such a good friend,” she said warmly, then grinned at the instant blush on Revi’s face. “And you get so easily flustered when anyone says anything nice about you.”

“We’re not talking about me,” said Revi. “We’re talking about you. But thank you.”

Janeway accepted the redirection. “I’m honestly all right, Revi. If you’d asked yesterday evening you’d have gotten a different answer, but I had a few stunning realizations that really helped. First of all, I’m the luckiest woman in the universe because Lynne seems to actually mean it when she says she loves me no matter what. Second, my priorities aren’t going to change just because I’m facing a court martial. And third, a court martial doesn’t scare me as much now as it did before my sweet, innocent wife informed me that she was perfectly willing to use her position and funds to leverage the President.”

Revi’s eyes widened. “Whoa. Lynne’s going to threaten the President of the Federation?”

“That’s exactly what I said. She just said it was a matter of simple negotiation. Then I warned her that she’d be making some powerful enemies.” She paused, remembering the look on Lynne’s face. “And she quietly informed me that Gutierrez is the one who just made a powerful enemy.” Nodding at Revi’s expression, she added, “And at breakfast this morning she brought up the fact that the Federation Council is still sitting on my amnesty petition for the Maquis, and said that maybe she’d kick a little collective ass as long as she was setting Gutierrez straight.”

Revi laughed. “All right, Lynne! I knew I liked her for a reason.” Her expression became far more serious. “You have a hell of a supporter there, Kathryn. We all do. Lynne doesn’t just talk. She acts.”

“I know. Sometimes that’s scary.”

“And sometimes it’s just what you need.”

Janeway nodded, a smile breaking over her face. “Sometimes it is.” She took a thoughtful sip. “They didn’t ask Chakotay to take over.”

“Really? You mean someone actually has their brain screwed on properly back there?”

“I’m not sure. I fully expected Admiral Necheyev to verbally tear off my pips this morning, but she just looked at me and told me to ‘stay the course.’ Her prerecorded message was a bit more detailed. Apparently the Starfleet brass is divided right down the middle on this one. Half of them want their funding back, or they think the Federation is in danger of losing political ground, and they feel the President made the right call. The other half are outraged that the President would presume to give orders, since he’s a Commander in Chief in name only unless acting under articles of war—and we’re not at war. So I’m not being court-martialed just yet. It’s still a definite possibility, but I have a lot more people in my corner than I ever dreamed. Yesterday I honestly thought I threw away my career with both hands. Today things look a lot different.”

“Oh, Kathryn, I’m so glad to hear that. Thank the gods.”

“Well, don’t thank them just yet. I could still end up on the wrong side of this.”

“If you do, then we’ll all follow you there,” said Revi stoutly. “And Seven says to tell you she’ll chart the course. We’re with you no matter where you go.”

Janeway just looked at her, wondering what on earth she’d done to deserve such loyalty and friendship.

“Thank you, Revi,” she said at last, her voice a bit husky. “And thank Seven, too. Your support means more than I can express.”

Revi nodded. “You’re welcome, from both of us.” She sipped her coffee and then quirked a rather evil smile in Janeway’s direction. “Not to break the mood or anything, but I really came in here to tell you about my latest hustle. I thought you’d like to hear how Tom finally paid his dues.”

Janeway laughed and relaxed against the couch. “You did not hustle Tom.”

“Oh, yes. It took weeks to set up.”

“If I hear this, is it going to involve some sort of disciplinary action?”

“Nope. All above board.”

“Good. Then I want every detail.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Seven viewed the results of her latest scans and nodded in satisfaction. The suggestions Arrabis had made during their two days together had resulted in new long-range sensors that were two hundred and forty-one percent more effective than the old ones. She was able to chart their course far in advance, and reveled in the information that was now at her fingertips. Not only were the scanners more efficient in their reach, they were also far more comprehensive, giving her details that were formerly impossible. When she’d first shown the new sensors to Kathryn, the smile she’d received had kept her warm for days. Kathryn had been open with her praise, and said that if Seven would write up her methods and a blueprint, she would be in contention for a Daystrom Prize. The prize, of course, meant nothing to Seven. The expression on Kathryn’s face as she talked about it meant everything.

She’d actually worried about that for a short while, wondering if it were right that Kathryn’s approval should still mean so much to her. Was that doing a disservice to Revi? But when she’d allowed those thoughts to surface in their link, she’d received a swift and positive assurance that it was perfectly all right. In fact, Revi had told her, she craved Kathryn’s approval as well. It was natural and in no way devalued their own relationship.

Sometimes Seven wondered how she’d survived those years before Revi, when everything to do with emotions and human social customs was so overwhelmingly foreign and confusing. For nearly two years, Kathryn had been the only one who ever took the time to explain. Then Lynne had arrived, and things began to improve. But it was Revi who had swept into her mind and provided instant understanding, support and eventually, love.

Seven wasn’t a religious woman; she knew far too much about the often conflicting spiritual customs of thousands of species to settle on any particular belief. But sometimes she wondered if there wasn’t actually some incomprehensible intelligence at work behind the physical structure of the universe—because the probability of her and Revi meeting and falling in love was so vanishingly small that it would actually make more sense had it been knowingly engineered. There was simply no other individual in the galaxy who could inspire the same emotions in her that Revi did, nor was there any other individual who could have repaired all of the broken places inside her; places she hadn’t even known were broken until Revi had reassembled them. She knew their love was something out of the ordinary. It had to be. And in the two months since their reconciliation, she had at last begun to convince Revi of that same thing. She knew that Revi’s regular links with Lynne were helping a great deal as well. The Queen’s hold was slipping. It had not yet been neutralized, but Revi had made significant progress.

Never in Seven’s non-Borg life had she felt so hopeful of her future as she did right now. She wanted her friends and loved ones to share that same wonderful feeling, which was why it distressed her so greatly to learn of the political trap in which Kathryn had been caught. And it distressed her even more to hear Kathryn telling Revi about her reaction.

The first time she’d learned of Kathryn’s very human emotional failings, she’d been shocked and dismayed. She didn’t doubt that the captain was capable of making erroneous decisions, and rarely hesitated to inform her when she made such errors—but never had she believed that Kathryn was like the rest of them when it came to negative emotions. Surely she was superior.

But Revi had explained that what made Kathryn unique was not that she didn’t share the same emotions and weaknesses that everyone else did; it was that she had an unusual ability to control them or to channel them. And that ability was what made her a great captain, but at an unknown cost to her personal life.

Seven had just heard about such a cost through her link, and while she was glad to know that Kathryn had apparently recovered, she was concerned about Lynne. She knew from past experience that Lynne fiercely guarded Kathryn’s privacy and would never reveal the details of their fight. But surely she would benefit from the same type of support that Revi was now giving to Kathryn?

: I think she would, Seven. It’s sweet of you to think of that. :

: You don’t think she would be offended that I learned of it through our link? Kathryn didn’t tell me directly. :

: When have you ever offended Lynne? Besides, Kathryn’s known for a long time that what she says to me, she says to you. So in a way, she has told you. :

: That’s poor logic. :

: But it’s true. :

Seven rolled her eyes, though there was no one to see.

: Don’t roll your eyes at me, Seven. :

Seven froze. How…?

: Because I know you, that’s how. You did, didn’t you? :

A slow smile spread over Seven’s face. : I did. And it makes me happy that you know me so well. :

She could feel Revi’s amusement, combined with a warm affection.

: Go talk to Lynne. I’m betting she could use a hug, too. :

: I will. :

 

 

-----

 

 

Seven found Lynne in Holodeck Two, sitting on a boulder with a PADD in her hand. She looked up when Seven’s shadow fell over her.

“Hey, Seven! What are you doing here? Come to learn the finer points of wall climbing?”

“No,” said Seven. “I came because I thought you might require a hug.”

Surprise, then concern swept across Lynne’s face. “You heard, huh?”

Correctly interpreting the concern, Seven said, “I heard no details. Kathryn only told Revi that she ‘got herself into a towering drunken rage, took it all out on you, and drove you out of your quarters.’ She is bewildered that you’re so forgiving.” She paused. “She and Revi seem to have that in common.”

“Forgiving partners?”

“Specifically, a lack of understanding of our forgiveness.”

Lynne shook her head. “I guess I need to talk to her again tonight. She never seems to remember that she forgives me just as much as I do her.”

Seven had not yet fulfilled the primary purpose of her visit. “Do you require a hug?” she asked.

Lynne looked up again, smiled, set her PADD down and reached out a hand. “It’s the best offer I’ve had since this morning.”

Seven took her hand and pulled her upright, straight into her arms. Though she’d had eleven months to become accustomed to this expression of affection, she never took it for granted. To her, it still felt like the physical manifestation of the word “miracle.”

Lynne rested her head on Seven’s shoulder and squeezed her tightly. They stood there for a long time, with Seven content to stand forever should Lynne desire it. She could feel Lynne’s body slowly relaxing, and attempted to facilitate it by rubbing her back.

At last Lynne gave her a final squeeze and stepped back. “Thanks, Seven,” she said with a half-smile. “That was a great addition to my morning.”

“I could give you another at lunch if you wished,” offered Seven.

“If I were free for lunch I’d take it. But I’m having lunch with Kathryn. She was expecting a pretty difficult call from Starfleet this morning.”

“I know she will want to share the details with you,” said Seven, “but the call was less difficult than she had anticipated.”

Lynne closed her eyes briefly and let out a long breath. “Thank god. This whole thing has been a fucking disaster, and it’s completely my fault. I’ve never seen her as angry as she was last night. She wonders why I forgave her so easily? It’s because she had every right to say what she did, even if she didn’t say it in a very loving manner.”

Seven didn’t understand this. “Why would it be your fault that the President of the Federation is taking actions calculated to increase his political standing?”

“Because I changed the timeline, Seven. I made the Hamilton Foundation possible. So it’s really my fault that the Foundation is withholding funds from the Federation.”

“It is not possible for you to know that you changed the timeline,” Seven pointed out. “Any timeline alterations are indistinguishable to inhabitants of that line.”

“I gave my parents half a million dollars, which was no small sum in my time, and told them exactly how to invest it. I hardly think they would have become billionaires on their own.”

“But you don’t know that their wealth came directly from your intervention.”

“No, I don’t, but I’m about ninety-nine percent certain.”

“One percent is an infinite amount in probability.”

“Seven…” Lynne moved away, crossing her arms as she gazed at the cliff wall. “I know you’re trying to help,” she said. “But you can’t. I know what I did.”

Seven stepped up beside her to regard the wall as well. “If you’re so positive that your actions resulted in the Hamilton Foundation, then you are indeed at fault for the danger to us and to Kathryn’s career.”

Lynne turned her head, surprise on her features.

Seven met her eyes. “You are also responsible for Kathryn’s career existing in the first place, as well as this ship. You’re responsible for the existence of Starfleet and the Federation. You’re responsible for my assimilation by the Borg, and Revi’s, and the destruction of thirty-nine ships and eleven thousand individuals at Wolf 359.”

“Jesus, Seven!” Lynne was horrified. “I hardly think you can pin all that on the Foundation.”

“Then where do you make the distinction?” asked Seven reasonably. “Where does your influence end and random intersections of probability begin?”

Lynne opened her mouth to speak, but shut it again and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, looking at the cliff face once more.

Seven turned to face her directly, then gently grasped Lynne’s chin with her hand and guided her head back around. Once she would have been unable to recognize the emotions in the eyes looking into her own, but now she clearly saw confusion, doubt, and guilt. She’d seen them all in Revi’s eyes far too often.

“You can’t,” she said softly. “There is no distinction. You can’t know which aspects of this timeline might have been directly or indirectly related to your actions. You can only act for the present and the future, not the past.”

Lynne stared into her eyes for nine point six seconds without speaking.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said at last.

“I’m always right,” Seven responded instantly. “Ask Revi for confirmation.”

Lynne laughed. “No, I don’t think I will.” She turned and swept Seven up in a hug. “Thanks,” she said. “Whether or not I’m responsible, you’re right about acting. I need to focus on what comes next.”

They pulled apart and smiled at each other. “What comes next?” asked Seven.

“Well, in about fifteen minutes, lunch with Kathryn. After that, we’ll see.”

 

 

 

 

---

earth interlude

 

 

The narrow features of Admiral Alynna Necheyev were showing the signs of a long, difficult day. “Alison,” she said from the terminal screen, “I have a bottle of Stolichnaya burning a hole in my desk. Would you care for a visitor this evening? I could drink it myself, but I’d prefer your company.”

Alison smiled, though it was strained. “I would love to have you over, Aunt Alynna. Come when you can.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

Alison shut off her terminal and went across to her refrigerator, pulling out a half-empty bottle of orange juice. She upended it into a giant glass, then walked over to her replicator and recycled the bottle. Sipping her orange juice, she wondered what was going on. The Stolichnaya bottle was a previously agreed-upon signal that they needed to meet to discuss Voyager, and she was dreading the news. The last she’d heard, Captain Janeway had notified Starfleet that she had found the mousetrap—not that she’d phrased it that way—and that she would not risk using the slipstream drive until a safe solution could be found for the phase variance. So what had happened that was important enough to bring the Admiral all the way out here from San Francisco? A sudden panic clenched her gut. Please God, don’t let Janeway have changed her mind, she prayed. She can’t use that drive.

By the time her terminal chirped at her an hour later, she’d worked herself up into quite a state of anxiety and practically ran to activate the terminal. Her aunt gazed evenly at her from the seat of a personal transport.

“I’m just outside your sensors, Alison.”

“I’m deactivating the security system now.”

The Admiral nodded and the screen went blank. Alison brought up the security readout on her screen, watched the transport move past the perimeter, and reactivated the system. Then she went to the front door, stepped out on the porch and waited.

A few seconds later a sleek personal transport purred over the treetops and settled in the clearing. The door opened and the Admiral stepped out, standing for a moment and breathing the air appreciatively.

“I forget the smell of the mountains in San Francisco,” she said, looking up at Alison. “And when I’m in space, I forget the smell of San Francisco. But this is heavenly.” She took a few deep breaths, then walked up the steps and greeted Alison with a kiss to each cheek. “Hello, Alison.”

“Hi, Aunt Alynna. Please, come inside.”

Alison wasted no time activating the building security system once she’d closed the door behind them. No one would be bothering them tonight, at least no one that she didn’t want to see.

Her aunt had already walked into the kitchen, put the bottle on the table and was checking the freezer unit for glasses.

“Good girl,” she said, retrieving two frosty glasses from the unit. “I knew you’d have these.”

“They never stay as cold when they come from a replicator,” said Alison. She leaned against the counter, watching as her aunt uncapped the bottle and poured them each a shot. She accepted hers and waited.

“Za zdorovia neshego Captain Janeway,” said the Admiral, holding up her glass.

“Za zdorovia neshego Captain Janeway.” Alison echoed, wondering why they were toasting Captain Janeway’s health. Her aunt had never done any such thing in their prior meals together. They clinked their glasses together and tossed the shots down their throats; the Admiral immediately held out her hand for Alison’s glass. She poured fresh shots, handed one to Alison and said, “Shall we sit?”

Alison swept her hand toward her breakfast nook and they settled at the table, the chilled bottle of vodka between them. The Admiral downed her shot and quickly poured a third, while Alison looked on in some alarm. She knew her aunt could drink a rhinoceros under the table, but this was a little fast, even for her. However, she also knew the Admiral wouldn’t say a word before she was ready. So she waited.

The third drink was merely sipped, while her aunt’s eyes stayed on her own. At last she put the glass down and said, without preamble, “President Gutierrez ordered Captain Janeway to use the slipstream drive yesterday.”

Alison nearly dropped her glass. “What?”

“And she refused.”

“Sweet Mary Mother of God.” Alison’s mind raced. “My insurance policy.”

The admiral nodded. “It backfired.”

“Oh, God. I never dreamed the President would step in.” A wave of guilt swept over her. Because of her decision to bring Starfleet into the secret, Captain Janeway was now in an untenable position. But in spite of the guilt, she felt an enormous admiration for the woman who had looked the President of the Federation in the eye and told him no.

“You’re going to court martial her, aren’t you?” she asked.

A searing glare nearly made her flinch. “I am not going to court martial her.”

“You know I didn’t mean it that way. But I can’t imagine there won’t be consequences.”

The Admiral snorted rather inelegantly, then tossed the rest of her drink down. Pouring another, she said, “Oh, yes. There are consequences. The war isn’t quiet anymore.” She took a sip. “As soon as I heard, I started making calls. I spent the next twenty-four hours lining up every admiral I could. And just in time; the call for court martial came from the Federation Council this morning. But,” she gave Alison a triumphant smile, “it seems that Starfleet is currently undecided on what action to take. I imagine President Gutierrez is a little surprised; he probably never dreamed there’d be any delay at all. It appears, however, that several admirals are taking a very dim view of the order.”

Alison breathed a sigh of relief. Her decision to bring the Admiral in as an ally had turned out to be the best she’d made so far. She had no doubt that if her aunt hadn’t been ready for this, Voyager’s second-in-command would have received orders today to remove Captain Janeway from office.

Then another thought occurred to her.

“Aunt Alynna…maybe it wasn’t the insurance policy.”

The Admiral looked at her sharply. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that everyone in Starfleet, or at least everyone who really knows Captain Janeway, would also know that she has a record of standing up for what she believes. She’s a by-the-book captain except when she’s protecting her ship and crew. That’s been documented in her reviews. And Starfleet also knows that the slipstream drive has a very dangerous flaw. So I can’t think that any of Gutierrez’ military advisors would have recommended this order, because they’d have known she’d do exactly what she did. I think someone else talked to him; someone who doesn’t know her.”

“And who has Gutierrez’ ear?”

Alison shook her head. “Brian and Charles both play golf with him on a regular basis,” she said. Brian Hamilton was the chair of the Hamilton Foundation’s board of directors, and his son-in-law Charles Fornay was the secretary of the board. The men were two of the three managers of Lynne Hamilton’s private trust, with Elise Hamilton, Brian’s niece and the vice-chair of the board, acting as the third manager. Because they had the most to lose with Lynne Hamilton’s return, Alison had been watching them closely.

“But I honestly don’t think Charles is smart enough to be behind this whole plot,” she continued, “and I just can’t believe it of Brian. He can be an arrogant ass, but he’s also a man of integrity. Or at least, I always thought he was, and I really haven’t seen any proof otherwise.”

“Alison.” The Admiral’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle. “You need to let go of your preconceptions. Someone is not what he or she appears to be, and you’ll never see it if you don’t look with your eyes wide open.”

“I know,” said Alison unhappily. “Really, I do. But I’ve been watching so carefully now, for so many months, and I just haven’t seen anything.”

“What about Elise?”

“She’s smart enough,” said Alison. “But she doesn’t interact with Gutierrez.” Her eyes widened. “She does, however, know Mercedes socially.” Mercedes Gutierrez was the President’s daughter, a woman in her early 30s who was known to fully appreciate the prestige that came with her father’s name. Alison had met her a few times at Presidential gatherings, and had never liked her.

The Admiral’s eyes narrowed. “That would make sense. Mercedes would certainly be invested in her father’s reelection.”

“Mm hmm.” Alison’s brain was churning. “But if Elise mentioned something to Mercedes, and Mercedes convinced her father that strong-arming Janeway was a good idea, then the real question is, did Elise say it with intent? Or was it just innocent conversation?”

“Isn’t this still classified information?” asked the Admiral. “Why would Elise be casually mentioning it to anyone outside the Foundation?”

“Because she’s a socialite, and because it’s classified in name only. You know that this was already the top hit in the rumor market within two weeks of Voyager’s first contact, and that wasn’t because of me. Someone, or maybe more than one person, let it get outside the board of directors. Gutierrez knows all about it, which means his family does, too.”

The Admiral shook her head. “It just keeps getting more tangled, doesn’t it? Can you talk to Mercedes and see what she knows? I know you’ve met her.”

“Yes, and disliked her on the spot. That woman couldn’t be more shallow if you drained her pool. But I think I can get myself invited to an event where I can…bump into her. And if I find out that she is the connection…” Alison sighed.

“Then you need to focus on Elise.”

Alison nodded unhappily. “I hate this.”

“I know.” The Admiral actually looked somewhat sympathetic. “You didn’t expect covert operations would be a part of your job, did you?”

“No. And I don’t think I’m very good at it, either. Give me a technical report any day; those I can understand. But I’ll never understand how anyone can risk a single life, let alone one hundred and forty-eight, just for wealth and power.”

“I’m sorry, Alison.”

Alison looked at her aunt in surprise. “Why?”

“Because you’re learning too much about my world, and I never wished that for you. Part of my job is protecting people like you, and allowing you to live out your lives without any knowledge of how truly nasty it can be out there.”

Alison shook her head. “Aunt Alynna, I appreciate the thought, but you can’t work at my level and not know how nasty people can be. I said that I couldn’t understand it, not that I wasn’t aware of it. I love the technical aspects of my job, and I hate the politics, but they’re a part of my work too—and I’m good at both. What I’m not good at is concealing my suspicions and waiting for something I haven’t identified. When I deal with politics, I’m usually the one pulling the strings. Being reactionary like this, having no control and no firm facts in hand—that I’m not used to.” She paused. “And speaking of pulling strings, do you think you can keep Starfleet divided?”

“Yes.” Admiral Necheyev sipped her vodka. “Gutierrez isn’t popular enough to overcome the support I’ve lined up. He’s not Starfleet, and he doesn’t understand that he can’t just issue orders over our heads and expect all of us to back them. Also, the Janeway name carries a lot of weight, both because of Kathryn Janeway herself and because of her father.”

“And it can’t hurt that Captain Janeway destroyed the Borg Queen and nineteen Borg ships not four months ago,” added Alison.

“That certainly simplified my job. I’m not sure I could have gotten so many admirals on my side so quickly if I hadn’t had that card to play.”

“But now the clock is ticking,” said Alison, thinking ahead. “The longer Voyager takes to get home, the harder it may be to hold off that court martial order. Time is not on Janeway’s side.”

“No, it’s not.” The Admiral’s expression grew hard. “And that, unfortunately, is completely out of my hands. I was hoping you’d tell me that you have some promising new technology on the boards. Because right now, Voyager needs a little luck.”

“We have a lot of promising technology on the boards. But none of it will come to fruition before the end of Gutierrez’ term, and that’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and Alison raised her glass. “A toast, then. To Lady Luck.”

“To Lady Luck,” agreed Admiral Necheyev. They clinked their glasses and tossed back the shots.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 24

 

 

Kathryn Janeway lounged in her captain’s chair, her legs crossed at the knee and her chin propped on her fist as she read the latest text-only news dispatch from MIDAS. She’d taken a greater interest in Federation politics over the last six weeks; it was always good policy to know your enemy. And she’d certainly made an enemy out of President Gutierrez. But somehow the court martial order still hadn’t appeared. She had no idea what sort of maneuvering was going on back home or who she had to thank for Starfleet’s current deadlock on her status, but she didn’t trust it would last. Something had to break one way or the other. She hoped it would break in her favor, but she had to be ready in case it didn’t.

B’Elanna, Seven and the rest of the engineering team had redoubled their efforts to make something workable out of the theories sent by the Hamilton Foundation, but they still hadn’t gotten beyond the theoretical stage into anything concrete. Janeway wasn’t worried yet; six weeks wasn’t much time. But she knew that the sooner they came up with something, the better off she’d be.

Funny, she mused. I spent nearly seven years just keeping us alive and hoping we’d get home before I expired of old age. Now I’m worried about whether we’ll get home in time to save my career.

She dropped the PADD in her lap and rested her head against her chair with a sigh. Who the hell am I kidding? We’re far more likely to run out of luck and die out here than we are to get home this year or next. Maybe I should have taken the chance.

She didn’t usually second-guess her decisions, but this one kept coming back to her. They had the means to get home in the next forty-eight hours, and only her decision kept them from using it. Harry Kim, while supportive of her captaincy, could not hide the fact that he still didn’t agree with her on this decision. It had altered his behavior on the bridge; the eager-to-please young man had been replaced with a lieutenant who was more sure of himself and quicker to question her during staff meetings. It was a natural progression in his seasoning as a Starfleet officer, but she couldn’t help missing the old Harry.

The worst thing, at the moment anyway, was knowing that their personal messages weren’t so personal after all. She had no doubt that her messages in particular, and probably Lynne’s as well, were of special interest. It had necessitated a fundamental change in the way she spoke to her family, and for that she had developed a deep resentment of Gutierrez. Their MIDAS contacts were all they had of home, and to have them despoiled in this way was a violation and an insult. But there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it.

She was jolted out of her increasingly negative thoughts by a call to the bridge.

“Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway. Please report to Astrometrics.”

Janeway rolled her eyes. Honest to god, would Seven ever learn not to summon her like a goddamned junior officer? Well, at least she said “please” now.

“I’m on my way, Seven.” She glanced at Chakotay, silently turning over the conn, then rose from her chair and left the bridge.

A few minutes later she walked into Seven’s domain. “What’s up?”

Seven turned from her console, her usually impassive features lit by excitement. Well, lit by Seven’s standards, anyway.

“Captain, the long-range sensors have just picked up an unusual energy reading in sector nine-six-one. Three years and nine months ago you instructed me to alert you immediately if I ever saw it.” She touched her board and looked up at the view screen.

Janeway stepped closer to the screen, her heart pounding in her chest. She’d have recognized that energy signature in her sleep, since it was identical to the displacement wave that had stranded Voyager in the Delta Quadrant almost seven years ago. “Oh, my god,” she breathed. “A Caretaker.”

Seven nodded, then tapped out a sequence of commands on the board. The view on the screen changed to show Voyager’s current position and a charted course to the source of the energy signature. “It’s well off our course, Captain, and fifty-one days away at warp six.”

Janeway didn’t hesitate. “Send the coordinates to the helm.” She tapped her comm badge. “Janeway to Paris. Seven of Nine is sending new coordinates to your board. Make the course changes immediately, and increase speed to warp eight.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“Janeway to Chakotay. Senior staff meeting in ten minutes.” She eyed Seven. “Are you aware of the results of our last encounter with a Caretaker?” It had happened about nine months before Seven had come aboard.

“Yes, I familiarized myself with the logs. She blamed you for the death of the Caretaker who brought you to the Delta Quadrant, and attempted to destroy the crew.”

Janeway nodded. “We have a weapon that works on sporocystian life forms, but since we’ve already used it once, we need a backup in case this is the same Caretaker. If it is, she’ll probably have figured out a way around it. Work with Tuvok on it. I’m hoping relations will be better this time around, but I’m not counting on it.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Janeway turned for the door. “Let’s go.”

 

 

-----

 

 

At warp eight it took them two and a half weeks to arrive at the source. Seven reported that the energy reading was being detected four times a day, at the same time intervals. This Caretaker was busy.

When they were nearly within visual range, Harry detected a series of buoys sending out an automated message.

“Put it on screen, Mr. Kim,” said Janeway.

A moment later a dark-skinned alien with black hair and deep purple eyes looked out at them. Her face was completely impassive. “Welcome to the Terellian system. For your protection, please stay within the approach corridor. Coordinates are contained within this message. Ships approaching outside the corridor may be destroyed by launch waves. If you have an existing trade agreement, please contact the Trade Bureau for current transfer and launching information. If you do not have an existing trade agreement but wish to apply for one, please contact the Minister of Trade Relations. If you have no trade agreement and do not wish for one, but are here simply to utilize the launch, please contact the Launch Bureau. All frequencies are encoded in this message.” She went silent for a few seconds, then began again. “Welcome to the Terellian system. For your—”

Janeway made a cutting motion across her throat, and Harry ended the transmission. “Well,” she said, “somehow I don’t think a Caretaker lives here.”

Chakotay nodded his agreement. “We still haven’t detected any signs of a sporocystian life form.”

“For which I’m rather grateful,” admitted Janeway. “It looks like we’re dealing with a race of traders instead.”

“Captain,” said Tuvok, “I’ve just run a comparison between the coordinates of the approach corridor and the energy readings we’ve recorded during the last seventeen days. These coordinates are the only section of space around this system that have not been subject to a displacement wave.”

Janeway acknowledged the information with a quick nod. “Harry, put me through to the Launch Bureau.”

“Aye, Captain.” Harry punched in a few commands. “They’re responding.”

This time it was a male Terellian facing them. “Greetings, travelers,” he said. “Please transmit the coordinates of your destination.”

Janeway raised her eyebrows. “Greetings. I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. And before we send our coordinates, would it be possible for you to explain how the system works? We’re not from around here and are unfamiliar with the Terellian launch.”

He eyed them. “Not from around here? Where are you from?”

“A sector of space a little over twenty thousand light years from here.”

“That’s a big launch,” he said. “But we’ve handled bigger. Will this be launch only or launch and retrieval?”

Janeway felt a bit dazed by the matter-of-fact question. “Launch only,” she said. “Though I’m interested in how retrieval works as well.”

“Understood. I’m transmitting operational information now. Please review our Launch Agreement and contact me again when you have an answer.” The screen went blank.

Janeway looked at Harry in question, keeping her expression calm despite the chills running down her spine. We’ve handled bigger, he said. Like it was no big deal. Like this was a slightly above average business transaction. Christ.

“He cut the transmission, Captain, but I have the information he sent.”

“Route it to my ready room. Chakotay, you have the bridge.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Chakotay looked up as the captain emerged from her ready room half an hour later. She looked a little pale.

“Mr. Kim,” she said calmly as she took her seat, “contact the Launch Bureau.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The alien appeared on screen, looking at them expectantly.

“Greetings,” said Janeway. “I’ve reviewed your information, and I agree to the conditions.”

“Excellent,” said the alien. “Please proceed through the approach corridor and take your position at the end of the line. The individual making payment will be transported from your ship to review the Gifting proceedings. Only after this person has witnessed a Gifting will we accept final payment.”

“I understand.”

The alien nodded and cut the transmission.

“Captain?” Chakotay waited for an explanation, and knew that every other person on the bridge was holding their breath as well.

Janeway turned her head. “We’re going home.” She stood up and regarded every member of the bridge crew. “We. Are. Going. Home. The displacement waves we’ve been detecting have been from ships being launched to and retrieved from various destinations. It’s strictly a trade operation, and they’ve been doing it for centuries.” She looked at Chakotay again, who consciously closed his mouth. “Get the word out. Senior staff meeting in fifteen minutes.”

She turned and disappeared in her ready room, leaving Chakotay to look after her in doubt.

If they were going home, why didn’t she look happy?

 

 

-----

 

 

“The Terellians came into possession of a Caretaker array over a thousand years ago,” said Captain Janeway. “They’ve built their entire culture around it. Ships from all over this sector use the array for long-distance transportation; they call it a launch.”

B’Elanna stared. She still couldn’t believe her ears. “And they provide this service for everyone? That seems a little too easy.”

Janeway regarded her with a smile. “I’m the first to be suspicious, B’Elanna, but this time I’m honestly not worried. The information the Terellians sent was comprehensive. As a culture they’re extremely wealthy, since the commodity they have to offer is in high demand and can’t be duplicated. Races from all over trade with them in exchange for launch privileges. If their literature can be believed, they have a nearly utopian society, highly advanced technologically and with no significant levels of poverty, illness or homelessness. Both because of their technology and because they have very little industry, their environment is pristine. They’re a peaceful race and they demand that their system remain a neutral zone. Any external strife is to be set aside once ships enter their system, and they have a zero tolerance policy for ships that disobey that regulation.”

“What does zero tolerance mean?” asked Revi.

“It means they destroy the aggressor,” said Janeway. “They’ve apparently got the technology to back up their orders. They also have a zero tolerance for energy weapons of any kind on the planet’s surface.”

“That would seem to be reason enough for a careful approach,” said Tuvok.

“Are you planning to start a fight?” asked Janeway mildly. B’Elanna restrained a snort.

“No, Captain.” As usual, Tuvok took Janeway completely seriously. “But any race with a stated willingness to destroy a ship needs to be viewed with caution.”

B’Elanna wished Tuvok would lighten up most of the time, but in this instance she agreed with him.

“I trust your instincts, Tuvok,” said the captain, “but in this case I believe we can approach this as we would any long-established trade operation. It’s in the Terellians’ best interests to keep the peace, since any sort of conflict would interrupt their trade. Their culture depends on the smooth operation of their launch system.”

Chakotay leaned in. “From what the automated message said, it sounds like they get quite a few ships through here that are only interested in a single launch, like us. What payment did they ask for, since we’re not here to establish a trade treaty? What’s a Gifting?”

It was only because B’Elanna was looking right at the captain that she saw the shift of her jaw muscles. There was a slight pause before the answer came.

“The Terellians are an unusual race,” said Janeway. “Two of the items they accept in trade for a non-treaty launch are stories and emotions. Their payment is actually free, as far as Voyager is concerned. They ask only for the gift of one person’s life history and accompanying emotions.”

“Whoa, wait a minute,” said Revi. “Just how exactly are these things…gifted? I’ve got a funny feeling we don’t just go down there and tell them a few stories.”

“No.” The captain’s jaw muscle jumped again. “They have the ability to tap directly into a person’s brain, extract the memory engrams and emotions, and display them. It’s actually a cultural event. A Gifting is attended by hundreds or thousands of Terellians.”

“Captain…” Revi’s voice was soft. “Please tell us you’re not doing this.”

“I’ve already agreed,” said Janeway. “It’s my responsibility.”

The conference room exploded in a chorus of voices as every person there protested the captain’s decision, and B’Elanna’s was among the loudest. She’d had personal experience with something similar, when a telepathic society had deemed her a menace and begun a procedure to extract her violent thoughts. She wouldn’t wish such a violation on her worst enemy, much less the captain she respected and admired.

Janeway sat in silence for a few seconds, then held up a hand. “This is not up for discussion,” she said. “The payment has to be made, and I’m the one who will make it. I suggest that you channel your concern into preparing this ship for a displacement wave. As you may recall, it was a rather bumpy ride last time. We need to make sure that this time is different.” She met B’Elanna’s eyes. “B’Elanna, I want you to work with Lieutenant Carey and Seven on ways to secure all possible systems before the launch.” Her gaze swept the others. “We’ll need to power down everything nonessential, tie down everything not attached, and build in ways for personnel to secure themselves. From the information I read, there’s a long line of ships in front of us and a long wait ahead. The array can only handle four displacement waves a day, so we have plenty of time to make this completely safe for Voyager and her crew. That’s all for now. Dismissed.”

 

 

-----

 

 

“We’re approaching the entrance to the approach corridor,” reported Tom.

“Slow to impulse and take us in.” Janeway watched the main viewer in fascination. Rings of buoys clearly outlined the approach corridor, which followed a straight line stretching out of visual range. Voyager smoothly slipped into the entrance, and the buoys flashed by as they flew toward the end of the line. Eventually a structure became visible in the distance, and even from here Janeway could recognize it.

“Mr. Kim, magnify image.”

The screen changed, and was now filled with the unmistakable form of a Caretaker array. The bridge was dead silent until Harry spoke in reverent awe.

“It’s enormous, Captain. At least twice as large as the array that pulled us from the Alpha Quadrant.”

Janeway nodded, her eyes on the screen. She knew the array was about to launch another ship, based on the timing of the wave readings they’d been recording.

“Mr. Kim,” she said, “scan for transmissions between the Launch Bureau and the next ship in line and put it on. Audio only.”

“Aye, Captain.” It took Harry only seconds to localize the transmissions. “Here we go.”

“—for launch.”

“Martok, proceed to the zero mark.”

“Acknowledged.”

As they watched, a single ship approached the array, turned in place, and came to a full stop.

“Launch Bureau, we are in position.”

“Martok, power down all propulsion.”

“Propulsion powered down.”

“Prepare for launch in ten clicks. Nine. Eight…”

A click appeared to be approximately three seconds. Janeway held her breath as she watched and listened.

“Captain, I’m reading a power buildup in the array,” said Kim. Janeway nodded, but didn’t take her eyes off the screen.

“One. Zero. Launch initiated. Safe travels, Martok.”

“Our gratitude.”

A blinding flash of white light burst from the array, dwarfing the ship. The Martok shuddered on impact and was then swept up in the wave, where its ride seemed to smooth out. The wave shot outward and vanished, taking the ship with it, and they all stared at the empty space on the screen. The launch itself had taken less than four seconds.

Janeway consciously relaxed her body and gazed around the bridge. She could see the looks of wonder, and knew exactly how her officers felt. It was one thing to know what the array could do, and another to actually watch it happen. It had just become reality: they really were going home. And after years of searching for wormholes, stealing Borg transwarp coils, negotiating with races in the hopes of acquiring new technology, and the final disappointment of the slipstream drive—it had turned out to be as simple as buying a shuttle pass.

And we would have gone right past it if it hadn’t been for Seven’s new long-range sensors, she thought. The old system could never have detected the energy signature from fifty-one light years away. What an irony. She’d sent Seven to that conference more to help Revi than anything. And what happened? Revi returned in worse shape than ever, but Seven came back with the concepts that had led to the development of new sensors—concepts she probably wouldn’t have gotten had she and Revi not broken up. Sometimes Janeway really did wonder if a greater intelligence was at work, because it was hard to believe that random probability could result in such an ironic outcome. Surely there was something out there with a twisted sense of humor, pulling all their strings.

She shook off her musings. “Mr. Paris, how far to the end of the line?”

“We’re almost there, Captain.”

“Put it on screen, Mr. Kim.”

The view changed back to the approach corridor, and now they could see a long line of ships waiting ahead of them.

“Slowing to one-quarter impulse,” said Tom.

“Mr. Kim, how many ships are ahead of us?”

“Forty-seven,” said Harry promptly.

“We’re going to be here for twelve days?” asked Tom without taking his eyes off his board.

Janeway smiled. “Twenty-four, actually. There are only two launches per day; the other two displacement waves are retrievals.”

“Can’t we cut in line? This is so anticlimactic!”

Stifling her laugh, Janeway said, “Tom, at this point in our journey, I’ll take anticlimactic and be grateful for it.”

The last ship in line was looming in their screen, and Tom slowed to one-eighth impulse, then came to a full stop. Voyager was now ship number forty-eight.

Janeway stood up. “All right, everyone. Lock down any nonessential boards and let’s get to work on preparing Voyager for a big ride. We’ve got a lot to do.” And the first thing I have to do is tell Lynne why we’re going to Terellia. She’s going to have kittens.

 

 

-----

 

 

“You’re what?”

Janeway was grateful for the privacy of her ready room; Lynne’s outburst hurt her ears as it was.

“I said, I’m—”

“I heard what you said. I just can’t believe it.” Lynne jumped up from the couch and began to pace. “Kathryn, this is just wrong. What kind of fucked-up culture strip-mines a person’s soul and calls it a bus pass? Isn’t there some other form of payment we can make?”

“No. Terellia has a service that no one else in the quadrant can offer; they can ask for anything they want. And this is what they want. Even if we enter into a trade treaty with them, which I’ll be looking into, the first payment is always the same.”

Lynne scowled and continued her pacing, then stopped in front of Janeway and gave her a pleading look. “Why does it have to be you?”

“Because I’m the captain.”

“But—”

“Lynne,” Janeway interrupted in her ‘don’t even try’ voice, “this is not up for discussion. I didn’t call you in here for your opinion, much as I value it. My decision is made and it’s not changing. I just wanted you to know about it, because we’re going to the planet surface in—” she checked her chronometer—“less than ten minutes. I need you to be ready.”

Lynne collapsed on the couch, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. “Kathryn…” She looked up. “I don’t think you know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

The pain in her eyes told Janeway exactly what she was thinking about.

“I don’t think I do, either,” Janeway said quietly. “But it doesn’t matter.”

Lynne let out a groan that made Janeway’s chest hurt. “God, I don’t want you to do this.”

Janeway reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind Lynne’ ear, then rested her hand on her shoulder. “We don’t know anything about the procedure yet. It might not be that bad.”

Lynne’s skepticism was abundantly clear, but she shook her head and made an obvious effort to control her reaction. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go down there and see what it’s all about.”

 

 

-----

 

 

The Terellian government did not allow any ships to transport personnel on or off the planet; instead, Janeway and Lynne were taken directly off the bridge by a Terellian displacement device. For Janeway, the sensations were hauntingly familiar. This was no Terellian system; it was Caretaker technology. She’d told Lynne to keep her boot knives; though they couldn’t carry phasers, she didn’t feel comfortable going onto someone else’s turf—a very powerful someone else—without at least some kind of protection. And she had a particular fondness for knives these days.

They materialized in a high-ceilinged room with one transparent wall. Outside, a city street teemed with pedestrians. To either side of the street, hovercraft quietly whirred by; but it was obvious that this was a much less common method of transportation.

A male Terellian waited for them. “Greetings,” he said. “Welcome to our planet. I am here to escort you to the Counseling Center.”

“Thank you,” said Janeway. She opened her mouth to introduce herself, but the Terellian simply turned and led the way out. She looked at Lynne, shrugged, and followed him.

They climbed into the back of a hovercraft and were piloted with casual skill through a maze of streets so tangled that Janeway knew she’d never find her way back to the transport center on her own. Maybe that was a defensive measure.

In less than fifteen minutes their escort, who hadn’t offered a word of conversation, settled the hovercraft to the ground in front of an imposing building with an enormous archway topping a flight of stairs. “Please follow me,” he said, then climbed out and walked away without looking back. Janeway and Lynne were a half step behind as he led them through the archway into a well-lit lobby, then through a maze of corridors until he stopped in front of a door. “I will meet you back here at the end of your interview,” he said, opening the door and standing back.

As Janeway thanked him, Lynne stepped through first. It was a habit she’d developed in her first days as Janeway’s security escort, and as much as the captain hated the statement it made, she knew she’d never talk Lynne out of it. She followed her wife and found herself in a comfortable room, full of natural light from skylights and abundant windows, with chairs scattered about that were designed for