STAR TREK: VOY - Homecoming, Book One Page 3

  “Ken,” said Paris gently, “first of all, she didn’t do it. A twenty-six-year older version of her did. And besides, you’ve got to admit there are extenuating circumstances.” The admiral’s words were delivered in a calm and mild fashion, but his face was hard. Montgomery seemed about to retort, then nodded.

  “We’ll send over some of our best people and begin analyzing this ... this futuristic technology immediately. This hearing is over.”

  [23] He picked up his padd and rose abruptly. Janeway, startled, met Picard’s hazel eyes. He seemed as puzzled as she. Without any further interaction, Admiral Montgomery strode out and was followed by several others. Picard and Paris remained as Janeway gathered her notes.

  “Admiral Paris,” she said, “permission to speak freely.”

  He looked troubled, but replied, “Granted.”

  Janeway put her hands on her hips and stuck her chin out. “That entire briefing lasted less than an hour,” she said to them. “We’ve been gone for seven years. We’ve accumulated data on over four hundred completely new species. We’ve had more interaction with the Borg than anyone in this quadrant, and we’ve managed to beat them nearly every time. We’ve successfully liberated a humanoid boy and a human woman who was assimilated when she was six years old. We’ve got an EMH who’s exceeded his programming far beyond expected parameters, and we’ve got an entire crew that has performed not just well, but exceptionally. And Starfleet gets all it wants to know in under an hour?”

  She was aware that her words were irate, almost belligerent, but she’d been given permission to speak her mind. It was Picard who answered first.

  “It’s going to be difficult for you to understand this, Kathryn, but ... while everyone in Starfleet knows about your adventure, and is delighted that you made it safely home despite the incredible odds, you aren’t going to be as feted as you might have been had the war not happened.”

  “It’s not that people don’t care,” put in Paris. “It’s [24] that there are so many things we need to be doing to recover. Our resources have been depleted throughout the quadrant. We’re helping the Cardassians rebuild, mourning our dead, trying to move on.”

  “I do understand, Admiral. But the things we’ve learned can help you do that.”

  “And they will,” said Picard. “Everything we’ll need to learn is in your computer databanks. The information will be passed on directly to the experts in their field. The board simply didn’t need to keep you here for hours when everyone, including you, has other things to do.”

  They were trying to soften the blow, of course, and she was going to let them think they had succeeded. “Speaking of which,” she said, forcing a smile, “I’d better get back to my ship. Thank you, gentlemen, and good day.”

  In about a half hour, Voyager was going to be crawling with Starfleet personnel whose job it was to learn everything about all the modifications that had been made on the ship in the last seven years, particularly the new technology that Admiral Janeway had given them. As she stood in the turbolift en route to Holodeck One, Janeway wondered why the modifications seemed to take priority over all the other things Voyager had brought back with it. The tactical information on the Borg should have been the most vital information, not the shielding technology and other improvements.

  The turbolift halted, and she sighed. She was not looking forward to this, but it had to be done. One of [25] the things the Starfleet engineers would analyze would be all the holodeck simulations. Janeway had told her crew that anything they regarded as “personal” could and should be deleted.

  The doors to the holodeck hissed open and she entered. Laughter and music reached her ears, and she smiled despite herself.

  “Katie, darling!” cried Michael Sullivan, drying his hands with a dish towel. His handsome face was alight with affection. Before she knew it, he’d caught her around the waist, whirled her around twice, and planted a kiss on her mouth. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too, Michael.” Gently, she disengaged herself from his strong arms. “I have some sad news. I won’t be able to come to Fair Haven again.”

  It hurt her, to watch the light fade from his eyes. “Your journey ... you’ve made it home then, have you?” At her nod, he said, “Why, Katie, that’s wonderful. Just grand. You’ve been trying for so long. I’m happy for you.”

  And he was, she had no doubt. But she was sorry for herself. Tenderly, she reached out and touched his cheek, feeling the warmth of his holographic skin, the scratch of his holographic beard stubble. He wasn’t real, but in a way, he had become very real to her. She had learned to care for him, but where she was going, there was once again a chance for her to learn to care for a living, breathing person.

  She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, sweetly, gently, whispered, “Good-bye,” then turned and left. She had instructed the computer not to accept any more adjustments to Michael Sullivan from her. It would be up to [26] Tom Paris, the designer of the program, to save or delete the program as he chose.

  But as far as she was concerned, when the doors closed behind her, she had left Fair Haven and all it meant—laughter, freedom from responsibility, a simpler way of living—behind.

  And she was surprised at just how painful it was.

  The Doctor looked up in surprise as Seven of Nine entered sickbay. She did not appear to be in a good mood. However, with Seven, that was usually a given.

  “Implants acting up?” he asked.

  “Negative,” she replied, then looked a bit discomfited. “I ... wished to inquire if you needed any assistance.”

  “My sickbay rush has come and gone,” he replied. “Actually, the only thing I’m doing now is writing up my report for Starfleet.”

  She inclined her blond head. “In that case, I shall leave.” Seven turned and strode toward the door.

  “Seven, wait a minute,” he called after her. She halted. “What about you? I’m certain you will have an extensive report as well, considering your unique position among the crew.”

  Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Seven all but glowered. “I completed my report. And I have also been debriefed.”

  “How was that?” Poor child, he thought. They had probably raked her over the coals, grilled her on everything conceivable.

  “It was brief,” she replied.

  The Doctor considered letting her know that she’d [27] come close to making a pun, then let it pass. “I’m surprised,” he said.

  “Yes,” she said archly. “As am I. Apparently, my ‘unique position’ warrants no more than forty-five minutes of Starfleet’s time.” She paused. “Icheb has received notification that he has been accepted into Starfleet Academy.”

  “Seven, that’s wonderful! You must be very proud of him.”

  “I am.”

  “But you’re going to miss him, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “I had not fully taken into account what returning to Earth really means. We will all be ... scattered. I had not anticipated that Icheb and I would be separated quite so soon.”

  He wondered where Chakotay fit into all this, but said nothing. “And of course Naomi ...”

  “Naomi Wildman will be returning to her home, to live with both father and mother. It is an appropriate end result.”

  “But you’ve been very close to both these children. You’re experiencing what some people call ‘empty-nest syndrome.’ You’ve got nothing to do in astrometrics, and I know what fulfillment you get out of your work. And on top of it all, you have also never been certain of where you were going to fit in once you return home.” He grimaced a little. “Neither am I.”

  She regarded him thoughtfully. If he had had a heart, it would have raced. Even though he knew that her affections were given elsewhere, the Doctor realized that his infatuation with Seven was not going to go away.

  [28] “Would you care for an ice-cream sundae?” she asked. He smiled. “I’d love one.”

  “I don’t want to go home,” Naomi Wil
dman stated flatly. Counselor Deanna Troi was surprised at the vehemence she was sensing from the child.

  “I don’t blame you,” Troi responded, clearly surprising Naomi. “You were born here. Voyager is your home.”

  “You understand,” said Naomi, brightening. “I have Mama, Seven, Icheb ... I don’t need a father.”

  “But you might like to have one,” Troi offered.

  “Everyone expects me to be so happy about meeting my father, but I’m not. I’m ... I’m scared. Ktarians are scary-looking.”

  “Your mother wasn’t scared of him. She thought him a wonderful person. Good enough to marry and be the father of her child.”

  Naomi made a face and looked down at her feet, dangling a few inches off the floor. Deanna waited patiently, but Naomi remained silent.

  “You know,” Deanna finally said, “we have a lot in common, only backward.” Curious, Naomi looked up. “My father was with me until I was seven years old. You aren’t going to get to meet your father until you’re already seven, but you’re luckier than I am. You see, my father died when I was your age. He never got to see me grow up, graduate from the Academy, learn to be a counselor. There was so much in my life that I wished he had been there for, but he wasn’t.”

  [29] Naomi had stopped fidgeting. Her eyes were fixed on Troi’s.

  “You’ve got all that time ahead with your daddy. Hasn’t he sent you letters about how anxious he is to meet you?”

  Naomi nodded.

  “He probably thinks he’s the luckiest man in the universe. Not only is he getting his wife back, whom he loves very much, but he’s getting a beautiful, smart daughter, too.”

  A shy, soft smile curved Naomi’s lips.

  “You don’t have to love him right away. Love takes time. But don’t you think you could try to like him?”

  Naomi thought. “I suppose,” she said. “I just wish he could have met Uncle Neelix.”

  “Neelix helped shape the girl you’ve grown into, Naomi. So in a way, your father will get to meet Neelix. And you will never lose your uncle. He will always be part of you.”

  And at that, the girl rewarded Troi with the biggest smile she’d seen yet from her.

  Chapter 3

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

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

  “About thirty,” she said.

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

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

  “Good or bad?”

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

  “Hmm,” Picard said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  Her door chimed. “Come,” she called.

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

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

  “Captain on deck!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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