The BLTS Archive- Hello There, I Haven't Seen You in A While
by Delta Story (deltastory@geocities.com)

---

With my love --- For K. and M.: May ALL your ever-afters be the
happiest! Live long and prosper, my friends

Many thanks to Erin for allowing me to use her terrific "canon" from
Lush Life, and a big nod to the inspiration from Harve Bennett's story
and screenplay for ST3: The Search for Spock.

---

It had been a year since Voyager had made it back to Earth. Their
arrival had been almost without announcement, as they had managed
finally to modify the slipstream technology so efficiently that the
method got them back to the Alpha Quadrant almost before they had
communicated their existence. Their welcome was with restrained
exuberance, for the return coincided with the final horrendous
assaults with the Dominion.

"Not with a bang, but with a whimper," Kathryn Janeway recalled from
the old Terran poet.

After a brief readjustment period for Voyager's stalwart crew,
Starfleet was quick to assimilate their skills and talents into the
escalating hostilities. The higher echelons had winked at the past
transgressions of Voyager's incorporated Maquis, for their formerly
subversive insights were now welcomed as brilliant tactical designs.
Many of the younger crew, Starfleet and Maquis alike, by their own
requests, were assigned to ships going to the heart of the battle
zones. Included with this latter group was Tom Paris, whose flying
skills were in much demand.

However, the rest of the senior ranked core from Voyager's staff was
kept close to Starfleet headquarters. Though their expertise, like
Tom's, would greatly aid the war efforts, they were on constant call
for daily debriefings. Even the ship's adopted hybrid, the statuesque
Seven of Nine, was convinced of the necessity to share her information
with the Federation's dictums.

Six months after Voyager's return, the years of agonizing conflict
with the Dominion --- and the Cardassians --- had finally ceased. A
precarious peace was in place throughout the alpha and gamma
quadrants, and all of their children sought safe havens to recover
from their grievous wounds.

When Tom returned from the wars, his rank of full lieutenant was
officially restored. Also restored was his renewed appreciation for
the woman who had grown to love him. The raw emotion of the war had
stripped away all the selfishness that he had held defensively between
them, and he knew now that his love for her was his sole reason for
survival. Two weeks after his return, they were married. The wedding
provided a brief reunion of many of the Voyager crew. The event seemed
to once more solidify the deep bonding that the members of the group
had for one another.

Of the rest of the senior crew, Harry had now resigned his commission,
and was seriously exploring his music. Tuvok had announced his
imminent retirement, anxious to resume his philosophical studies back
on Vulcan; he was remaining on Earth only until final negotiations
from the war had been completed and when he was satisfied with his
Delta Quadrant report to Starfleet. The doctor was in his glory,
expounding all the new information he had gleaned from the various
races he had studied on their long journey. His information, along
with the gigatrillions of data bits that had been provided personally
by Seven and Neelix, in addition to the ship's logs, were filling a
myriad of Starfleet databases. Captain Janeway, now considered a
political icon, was elevated to diplomatic status, a role that she had
yet to decide whether she liked or disliked.

---

Kathryn Janeway was preparing for yet another treaty conference, this
one on Bajor. She had been there twice before -- a lovely planet, rich
and lush, recovering from its defilement of Cardassian desecration.
Morning messages awaited her response about the agenda, and her goal
today was to ascertain who was attending and brief them of the issues
to be resolved. She logged on her computer, its voice calling out its
chronological documentation: "Stardate 55438.31"

The date burned itself into her memories... five years ago... stardate
50438.56... it had been five years... since they had said good-bye.
Five years without awakening to his voice... warming with his smile...
melting at his touch. Five years of living a deception, a vacuous
nonexistence. Five years of trying to replace the void with Starfleet
rules and regulations. As payment for her sacrifice, she was now one
of the most admired senior officers in the galaxy, with reverent
respect from former crewmates to anonymous devotees on the street. But
life was empty and pointless, her body and spirit exhausted from the
constant facade she presented to all around her.

She had wanted to speak to Starfleet about going back for him shortly
after Voyager's return; but the war efforts were all-consuming, and
she knew that he would never have allowed his needs to supersede the
urgent concentration on the conflict with the Dominion. No, he would
not have approved of that decision. Then, five months ago, she had
contacted Admiral Ross, who was overseeing the quadrant border
treaties, about attempting to contact that lost distant planet via
their new transquantum subspace communications array.

She and Ross had never been admirers of each other. When she was in
her third year at the Academy, he had been the young lieutenant
instructor of her class in theoretical tactical methods. She had
proven a theorem of his incorrect in front of the entire class one
day, humiliating the fledgling command officer. He still smarted from
her one-upmanship, and her new-found status rested uneasily with him.
So, when she approached him, his rebuttal had been swift and sure:
there was to be absolutely no contact with the Delta Quadrant until
all the war negotiations had been completed *and* all of Voyager had
been debriefed to Starfleet's satisfaction.

Kathryn had thought about going to Admiral Paris, playing upon his
known affection for her, as his former prodigy. But that would have
merely incited Ross all the more, and she knew that if she was ever
going to be allowed to find Chakotay, she had to bide her time. Lately
however, her days and nights were haunted constantly by ghostly
semblances of his image and voice and touch. She desperately wanted
just to know if he were alive... if there was any reason for her to
continue to hope. The venom of her visions had poisoned her body and
mind, and the only antidote was to seek soporific solace.

The reflection that rebounded from her window showed a woman who was
neglecting herself. A increasingly tremulous hand raised itself to
push back her hair, hair that was frequently falling loose from the
tight twist across the back of her head. Her uniform, while always
neat and precise, was starting to hang limply on a frame that was
dwindling in size. Skin that once had been like porcelain was now
mottled and discolored. Lines that had barely been noticeable around
her eyes were deep frames for the darkened ocular orbs. The same eyes
were frequently red and swollen from lack of sleep... and something
else. In recent weeks, she had fallen victim to the consolation of
cowards; her only comfort now was to seek nightly oblivion in an
ancient liquid form. Kathryn Janeway was slowly welcoming her own doom
by consuming numbing amounts of alcohol.

As she was rapidly succumbing to the despair that had wrapped itself
around her with the memories, a buzz at her door announced a visitor.
"Come," she said without enthusiasm, anchoring her unsteady body by
holding onto the edge of her desk.

The doors opened to her old friend, Tuvok. He, too, was showing the
very un-Vulcanlike physical symptoms of emotional distress. His long
dark face had a gray pallor to it; his lips thinner and more drawn
since she had seen him last. He was in his dark Vulcan robes rather
than a Starfleet uniform, signaling that this was far from an official
visit.

He stepped over the threshold, awaiting her permission to enter. Only
his Vulcan reserve prevented him from recoiling at the sight of the
person in front of him. His voice seemed as sure and confident as
ever.

"I apologize, Captain, for coming before contacting you."

"That's... that's all right, Tuvok. You know that you are always
welcome."

"Captain... are you well? You do not appear to be yourself."

She laughed nervously. "Just the usual... not enough sleep."

"Yes; of course," he acknowledged, averting his eyes from the
disintegrating woman in front of him.

"Please... come in," she continued. "What brings you all the way to
Starfleet headquarters so early in the day?" She weaved her way over
to her sofa, and motioned for him to join her. She noticed that there
was some irregularity in his gait.

"Captain, I have come here with a special request. You know that I am
quite reticent to speak of subjects that tend to be of... a highly
personal nature. But what I would like to discuss would appear to be
of importance to both of us."

He stiffened his body as he continued. "Because of my personal
discipline, it is highly irregular that incidents would... disturb me.
However, for the past few weeks, my usual concentrated sleeping
periods have been overshadowed by distorted shadowy images. Last
night, I attempted a new contemplative technique, to recall some logic
to the fleeting forms. My attempt succeeded, and I came to confront
what had been haunting me.

"It was your face... your face the moment you materialized out of
transport from New Earth back onto Voyager. The expression existed for
only a transient moment; but in that brief time, I experienced an
unbearable sense of grieving loss. As suddenly as I sensed it, it was
gone, and a new, toughened expression appeared on your face... one
that has been there ever since: a false face, a masked face. One that
hid well your inner pain. Several times, I sensed you wanted to speak
of it, but knew that when the time came, you would seek advice. Yet
you have chosen to remain silent.

"Ever since we brought you back from New Earth, leaving Commander
Chakotay, I thought that perhaps we had done the wrong thing."

Her faithful friend stopped, waiting for her response.

"You alone have known why he really stayed behind, Tuvok."

"I have kept your secret within me," he said softly.

"And it disturbs you as much as it has me," she responded.

"Yes. No amount of meditation or mind control has erased that memory."

"Nor can I find forgetfulness.," Janeway confessed. She turned to her
longtime friend, her voice filling with anguish.

"Oh, Tuvok, I should never have allowed him to talk me into leaving
him. I now know that I would have bent any rule in the universe, much
less Starfleet... relationships be damned! After all, we survived with
all of the ones that were formed by the time we got back here."

Tuvok listened intently, but even after her confession he was
obviously still uncomfortable about something.

"Captain, there is more to my distress in addition to the image of
your face. My thoughts have been greatly disturbed lately, as I know
yours have been."

She looked at him quizzically. "You, too?"

"Indeed. It is almost as if... as if Commander Chakotay's spirit is
reaching out and calling to me."

Her eyes became more focused, as some deep spark had been rekindled.
"Perhaps that's what is happening to me also, but I don't want to
admit it."

She became silent, her mind trying to seek an equilibrium from its
anesthetized state.

"Tuvok... do you think he's still alive? Or... has he gone over to
his... spirit world...and... and..."

Dry tears burned her eyes, as five years of grief began to surface
once more. Tuvok looked at his friend, trying to decide how to help
her, but obviously uncomfortable with her rare display of emotion.

"Oh, Tuvok... I loved him so much!" she said, her eyes pleading with
him for some comfort.

"I know," he answered quietly. He moved over to her, and stiffly
placed his arm around her. "And I think that's why I'm here," he
continued.
Sublimated emotion wracked her small frame, as she leaned against his
thick robe. She wanted to disappear among its folds, comforted by his
stoic resolve. As his last words finally registered with her tormented
soul, she quelled her broken spirit, and pulled back, looking into his
embered eyes.

"Why...you're...here...???" she asked, each word forming its own
question.

"Yes. I feel that his spirit has indeed reached out to me... and
brought me here to you. He knows that my nature would be more
receptive to such an outreach than yours would be."

"And... and... you think that he's alive? Has he managed to get a
communication across to us?"

"He is alive, Captain; of that I am certain. But his means of
communicating cannot be documented... logically."

The glaze of depression fell from her eyes as she began to comprehend
the meaning of Tuvok's words.

The words formed slowly and came from her as wisps of breath, as she
seemed unable to breath. "He's... alive... and...and...."

"And he would like to speak to you..."

"But how...??" she questioned, her body now able to stay still, as she
twisted and turned in nervous little steps. "Starfleet has already
said no to an official request. And I *am* still part of Starfleet..."

"You most certainly are not in acceptable Starfleet condition at this
point in time. Perhaps you could approach them again..."

"But.. we've been forbidden to go back into the Delta Quadrant until
the Federation has had an opportunity to present treaties to all the
different races with whom we came into contact. And as long as there
are Borg that won't happen! No.. we can't go back..."

"Captain, it seems that you have forgotten all of your um...
innovative skills... the very ones that you so often employed that
served us so many times on our ‘journey'."

She laughed for the first time since he had arrived. "Only because
some of the more... esoteric ones were tempered by your good logic."

He cleared his throat. "Yes... that was necessary upon occasion. None
the less, I do believe that at this point in time, you and a small
crew just might be able to ... shall we say... provide for an
exploratory mission back into the Delta Quadrant... to try out a small
Starfleet vessel, overhauled with slipsteam technology... just to
‘test the waters' so to speak...

She eyes were now burning with his plan. "You mean... to just see if
we could get into the Delta Quadrant and come back... and then...
then... just happen to overshoot a bit..."

"Nothing illegal, Captain; just an honest engineering mistake. We all
know that they occur when testing new technologies..."

"Indeed they do, my friend; indeed they do." She pulled back from him,
shaking her head in disbelief. "I cannot believe that you... of all
people... you... would come up with such a devious plan."

"You both are my friends. Kathryn Janeway, over the past five years, I
have watched you become as much a lost soul as he had become to us.
Both of your spirits are in deep pain; now, his *katra* has called out
to me. He says that the wounds have been honored long enough; you made
a promise to him, and now it is time to keep that promise... it is a
time for renewal."

Her interest was piqued; a project, a plan... a rescue of Chakotay!
"So, my fallen Vulcan friend, do you have any ideas as to how we could
carry off such a little deception?"

"Indeed I do, Captain. With your permission, I would like to make a
few covert inquiries. I will contact you with my results."

"Tuvok, you *are* a sly old fox!" she laughed. She could have sworn
she saw a quiver of a smile come to his lips.

---

Janeway's conversation with Tuvok took years off her countenance and
spirit. The earlier burdens of her daily agenda took on a new meaning,
as she made arrangements for the treaty conference.

The following day, she appeared in her office early, looking vigorous
and refreshed. Her face had a more natural color to it, and her cheeks
appeared fuller and less drawn. A vivacious energy beamed from her
eyes and brought light and life to her step. She greeted everyone by
name and a bright "hello" or "good morning". Her long-dormant
replicator sang out, and the rich aroma of her favorite coffee brew
permeated the air. Looks were exchanged by all around her; they
couldn't remember the last time she had been so content. Restless in
her impatience of allowing Tuvok do all the groundwork on their plan,
Janeway decided to call in a few favors of her own.

A mischievous smile punctuated her face as she activated her comm
module. A familiar face appeared.

"Riker here."

"Will... how are you?" she smiled her seductive best.

"Why, Kathryn Janeway! Haven't seen you since... that briefing on the
Badlands treaty four months ago. How are you? I heard that you had
been ill..."

"Hmmm. Bad news travels fast," she mumbled. "Just a temporary setback.
I'm very much alive and kicking."

"Well, good," he grinned, his own greeting seemingly a little bit too
friendly.

"Will," she continued, "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sure. What's up?"

She paused momentarily. "As you know, the theory that we used to
return from the Delta Quadrant was a modification of several alien
technologies. We have shared with Starfleet our expertise on this, but
as of yet there hasn't been time to try to adapt the slipsteam methods
into the warp cores of any other vessels. I would like to demonstrate
how this can be done, and I was wondering if you knew of any older
vessels that are still functional but in need of overhaul? I would
like to design a make-over for the ship and present my ideas to
Admiral Kostman, with the possibility of developing a prototype for
other modifications."

Riker listened attentively to her request, his answer coming to him
before she had even finished.

"I know that the USS Albany, a Miranda-class ship, is in dry dock for
some minor repairs. As you know, it's an older class vessel, but still
quite serviceable and able to reach warp 8.8. Why don't you present
your case to Kostman and tell him that I recommended the Albany?"

Kathryn could barely contain her elation. The Albany! Of course! That
would fit right in with their plans. "Will, you're wonderful. Thanks
as always for your help."

"Anytime," he grinned back. He leaned back into his chair, an
expression of sanguine confidence spreading across his face. "Say,
Kath --- don't you still owe me a date from about 25 years ago?"

"Mmm... and the answer is the same. By the way, I thought that you and
Deanna were an ‘item' again..."

There was a blush behind his full beard. "Don't miss a thing, do you,
Kath?"

"Never," she retorted. "I'll get back to you."

The comm link broke, and Janeway now sat back in her chair. Next on
her list --- Admiral Kostman.

---

Kathryn Janeway's negotiating skills were in peak form. Admiral
Kostman completely agreed that it was time for her to hone her
technical skills as well as her diplomatic ones. The treaty conference
on Bajor was still several weeks away, and if her plans for the Albany
worked out, he told her, they might shift her duty responsibilities
from the conference to the refitting of the ship. At the conclusion of
the conversation, she felt just like the rabbit who had begged and
pleaded to be thrown into the briar patch.

A couple of hours later, Tuvok called and advised her of his efforts.
He was "satisfied" with her initiatives, and thanked her for making
the arrangements.

"I have located and spoken with the personnel that we might need for
our endeavors. With Admiral Kostman's approval of your proposal, there
should be no difficulty in getting them assigned to the project."

"How soon can we meet?" she inquired.

"I have taken the liberty of inviting them to my quarters for a
briefing," he confirmed. "Tonight."

Janeway shook her head. "Tuvok, I do believe that you are as
determined about this mission as I am."

"Perhaps," he responded equivocally.

---

That evening, a motley group of the former Voyager crew met in Tuvok's
darkened living area: Tom and B'Elanna; Harry Kim, Seven of Nine and,
of course, Tuvok and their former captain. After the initial greetings
and small talk, Tuvok invited them all to be seated in the circle of
pillows he had prepared on the floor, and Janeway proceeded to fill
them in on a very interesting project that she had been assigned.

"All of you played prominent roles in the development of the
slipstream technology modification to Voyager. I have talked with
Admiral Kostman about the possibility of applying the techniques to a
couple of other ships, and I'd like to have your help with this. Tuvok
has been making the necessary arrangement for your transfers to the
project if you are in agreement."

Tom looked at her, a befuddled expression on his face. "Uh...
Captain... if this is a Starfleet program, why are we meeting as
civilians?"

Janeway was caught off-guard. A logical concern for Tom, who was once
more in Starfleet's good graces.

"And I'm not even in Starfleet... why me?" asked Harry.

"I realize that we are asking you to postpone your studies; but,
Harry, you and Tom know more about flying these converted vessels than
anyone else."

Harry's eyes became as wide as the window overlooking the skyline.
"Fly? You want me to fly?"

Janeway calmed him. "No, no; I didn't mean that. Just help us get the
system going. A month at most, Harry..."

Seven spoke for the first time. "Indeed, Mr. Kim, it has been a while
since we have been able to work together. I should look forward to
your company as a colleague."

The rest of the group stifled quiet laughs, watching the blush rise in
Harry's face.

"Well, all right. But just because it's you, Captain. One month, no
more," he managed to stutter.

"Why us?" B'Elanna asked pointedly.

A cryptic exchange of looks passed between Janeway and Tuvok. "Because
this project deserves only the best," she concluded. "And I know that
I can count on you."

---

The refitting of the USS Albany began in earnest a week later. Janeway
had been assigned two dozen engineers and technicians, in addition to
her elite picks from Voyager, to implement the rigorous overhaul.
Janeway was a constant presence in the work; she was seen dashing
among the different task groups, and was back to her old habits of
working as many as twenty hours straight. But the hard efforts seemed
to rejuvenate her; she was a tireless dynamo.

Towards the middle of the third week, when it was apparent that the
refit was going to succeed, she and Tuvok could be seen huddling in
secretive conversations. The newer workers of the project thought
nothing of these conferences between their two leaders, but the
ever-inquisitive Tom Paris felt his trigger hairs going to red alert.
During their midshift down period, he convened his wife and Harry and
Seven, sharing with them his intuitive feelings.

"There's something a little off here," he told them. "I talked with my
dad about this project the other night, and he said that it was
proposed by both Janeway and Tuvok. Although it's supposed to be a
routine re-building post-war project, Janeway seems awfully anxious to
get it completed and take the Albany out for a test spin. I think
she's got something up her sleeve."

B'Elanna looked at him, shaking her head. "Tom --- there you go again
with that overactive imagination of yours... seeing things that don't
exist! This is just Captain Janeway; when she gets an idea, it's full
speed ahead. She can be a little impulsive, you know."

Tom laughed. "Why, whatever do you mean! There aren't any *other*
women around here like that, are there?"

B'Elanna hit him.

"I agree with Lt. Torres," Seven chimed in. "The Captain... can be
rather irrational when she becomes obsessed with an idea."

"I think that's what Tom means," Harry stated. "That's just it --- she
*is* obsessed with something. And Tuvok appears to be as driven by its
completion as she is."

Tom appeared deep in thought. "What if... the Albany's completion was
just a beginning?"

"What do you mean?" the tall Borg/human asked of him.

"I mean... what if she has a *mission* for this ship?" he continued.

"Like... what?" Harry asked.

B'Elanna's thoughts suddenly merged with her husband's. "Like... going
back into the Delta Quadrant... to finish up some business!"

Seven blanched. "The Borg? Oh. no!"

Obviously still deep in thought, Tom shook his head. "No... not the
Borg. But there *is* something, and I'm going to ask her."

"I'm going with you," said B'Elanna as she jumped up to join him.

"Well, you're not leaving me out of this!" said Harry, following them.

"I don't want it to be the Borg," repeated Seven, closing in on her
friends.

---

The quartet found Janeway and Tuvok conferring in a small walled
cubicle to the side of the reconstruction area. Tuvok's enhanced aural
sense alerted then to the arrival of the younger people, but Janeway
still had an expression on her face of having been caught with her
hand in the cookie jar.

Tom took the lead.

"Captain, I think we have to talk."

"Talk?" she inquired innocently.

"Yes, talk," he repeated. "This isn't just about Starfleet, is it?"

Janeway and Tuvok stole glances at each other. She had been backed
into a corner.

Tuvok looked at her, and received her silent nod of approval to
divulge their plan.

"Please, be seated. This might take awhile," he said. When the
foursome was settled, he began his story.

"Five years ago, we were compelled to leave Commander Chakotay on the
planet that he and the captain had named ‘New Earth'. Seven, while I
know you were not with us at the time, and you have not had the
privilege of knowing Commander Chakotay, you have heard many positive
things about him. He indeed was a good person and an excellent
Starfleet officer..."

"But damn... was he hard on shuttlecraft!" interjected Tom.

"Mr. Paris... please," reprimanded the Vulcan.

"Sorry," apologized Tom.

Tuvok continued. "In recent months, the captain and I have both been
subject to some unorthodox subliminal messages, which we believe have
originated from the commander. We have approached Starfleet about
attempting to contact Mr. Chakotay, but there have been other
priorities.

"I do not believe that I'm breaking the confidence of the captain when
I tell you that her mental health was traumatically affected by these
thoughts. As illogical as it seems, I believe that I, too, was the
recipient of these... messages." He stopped and cleared his throat.

"While our future actions may destroy our Starfleet careers, she and I
are planning to take the refitted Albany, using the slipstream
modifications, back into the Delta Quadrant in an attempt to find the
source of these communications, and, indeed, possibly find Commander
Chakotay."

The young people were dumbfounded. The two most straight-arrow
Starfleet officers they had ever known... proposing their own mutiny!

B'Elanna finally broke the shocked silence. "Well, I've been a
maverick before; why not a second round of it? I would like to go with
you, Captain."

Tom grabbed his feisty wife. "If you're in, I'm in too. Hell... my dad
will probably blame me for it anyway!"

Harry smiled broadly. "I'm not even Starfleet anymore. What's the most
I could be charged with --- stealing a starship? Count me in."

Seven's eyebrow rose as she looked at her companions. "And I have
never been commissioned into Starfleet. Besides, you will need my
expertise in operating the slipstream requirements. It is only logical
that I accompany you."

Janeway stared in disbelief at her former crew. Years ago, she had
expected... no, demanded their unswerving obedience. But now... they
could change their lives forever by joining her in her act of anarchy.

"No, no; I can't allow you to do this to yourselves... to your
lives..." she entreated them.

B'Elanna firmly stood her ground. "Captain, I've known him longer than
you have. He was my friend, too. I'm doing it for him as well as you."

The others quickly reaffirmed their allegiance. The die had been cast.

---

Eight days later, the Albany was set for her maiden slipstream
journey. Seven had plotted three slipstream accesses between Earth and
the edge of the quadrant. Her calculations showed that they could
complete the round trip in a little over a day. Starfleet command
approved the test flight, with the now reinstated Lt. Paris at the
helm, with Lt. B'Elanna Torres, Commander Tuvok and Seven accompanying
him. A small crowd gathered to watch the medium-sized older Starship
begin its voyage of rebirth.

It wasn't until the following morning, when Kathryn Janeway was late
in coming to her office, that Starfleet headquarters received a
subspace message from the USS Albany... from Kathryn Janeway. She
appeared rather confused and apologetic in her appearance.

"I regret to inform you that somehow or another, Harry Kim and I were
doing some last minute inspections aboard the ship when we were
overcome by some fumes from a spilled container of polyethylene
dichromate. Since we were in a remote part of the ship, and we were
unconscious for many hours, and we've just now found our way to the
bridge. I guess we're along for the ride, too. Please accept this
belated request to accompany the test crew."

Admiral Kostman laughingly granted her permission. But Ross was right
next to him, and as the communication was cut off, he said to his
fellow ranking officer, "I don't trust her; she's up to something..."

Kostman slapped him on the back. "Michael, you're still smarting after
twenty-five years; let it go! Janeway is one of our best; what is
there to worry about?"

"That!" Ross said, as he exploded and emphatically pointed to the
digital trajectory path of the Albany, which showed it disappearing
into a fourth slipstream segment... and into the Delta Quadrant.

---

Seven downloaded her extended flight plan into the ship's computer.
Massive calculations had determined that the slipstream patterns would
have them arriving at the planet only known as New Earth in about five
days after they left Earth --- a far cry from the over five years it
had taken them to get back to the Alpha Quadrant.

Spirits aboard the Albany vacillated between euphoria and a knowledge
that here would be hell to pay upon their return... if they were able
to return! A gentle routine settled in. With the new programming,
there was little to do but keep the ship on course, making adjustments
as necessary.

Star and planet formations that they had seen years earlier flashed by
them, only to be obliterated by entry into the space continuum
passages. Initially chatty and lively, Janeway had become restive and
anxious; B'Elanna mumbled something to Tom that it was like she was
getting ready for a very personal meeting with someone.

"Maybe she is," was his response.

By the third day, Tuvok mentioned that he felt more and more that
Chakotay was trying to contact him mentally. He calmly assured the his
fellow travelers that indeed they will find the commander.

---

Early in the fifth day, Harry was monitoring the comm. Signals alerted
him that there was an incoming message. He opened the designated
channel, and heard a familiar voice.

"Approaching vessel... I have detected Starfleet signatures. Identify
yourself."

Harry gulped. "Commander, uh... it's good to hear you. This is Harry
Kim."

Chakotay's voice choked with the sudden emotion. "Harry Kim! Is that
you? Where are you? How are you?"

"We are only three light years away, Commander. We've... we've come
back..."

"Back? Then you made it... Kathryn? Where's Kathryn?" he called out.

"She's in her ready room. I'll call her..." He signaled the captain.
"Oh.. and I've discovered that you've modified a comm relay; I think I
can get you on visual. On screen," Harry said jubilantly.

The image of Chakotay came onto the bridge viewscreen just as Janeway
came out from her retreat. They were still out of range for anything
more than a blurred image of their former first officer; but there was
enough of that angular face for them to know who it was.

Kathryn walked over to the screen, and his focus became centered on
her. His voice trembled with emotion as he managed to speak.

"Kathryn... my wonderful Kathryn!"

She stood before the screen, mesmerized by his countenance. She
reached out towards the image, trying to touch him.

"Oh, my," she said, her hands pulling back and instinctively crossing
her heart, struggling to get ahold of herself.

"Chakotay... my husband."

There was a collective gasp from the other people witnessing this
scene. A stunned silence paralyzed them... all but Tuvok, who stood
serene and tall, relieved that he was no longer burdened by the secret
that he alone had known all these years; relieved as he sensed the
haunting grasp on his soul being released, as it once more flowed back
into Chakotay.

The silence continued, as the remarkable story started unfolding
before them.

Kathryn was drawn towards the screen. She brought the fingers of her
hand to her lips, and reached up, transferring her kiss to his
likeness in front of her. Even with the blurred transmission, Chakotay
could sense the emotion in that touch.

"You kept your promise," he whispered, choking with surfacing
emotions.

Her words enfolded him. "You helped me keep it. My strength by itself
was faltering, but you... you reached out over tens of thousands of
light years and pulled at the very core of my existence."

They were oblivious to the small group who were spellbound in their
observations.

"Where... where are you? " he asked. "How long have you been
searching? Did you come back? Turn around? How"

"Later, later... too many questions! We're here, that's all that's
important. We'll talk. We should be arriving in about..." she turned
to Seven, who quickly adjusted to the needs of duty and consulted her
calculations. "In about an hour, Captain," she responded.

For the first time since he had seen Kathryn, Chakotay looked beyond
her and towards the voice he had just heard. Again, the image was less
than perfect, but he responded in a horrified tone at seeing the tall
Borg/human behind Kathryn.

"Kathryn... is that a... Borg with you?"

"A former drone... she *was* Borg... this is Seven of Nine. That, too,
is a very long story, which you will learn also. There is so much
that... that..."

"Shhh... when you get here, my love; when you get here."

He surveyed the rest of the crew behind her, calling out their names
like a sacred litany. "Tom, B'Elanna, Harry, Tuvok... why? how?"

Tom answered first. "Hello, Commander. Yes, well, as to why and how...
well, we might be in hotter water than any of the Maquis ever were..."

Chakotay quickly understood the intent of the comment. "Then... this
isn't really a Starfleet mission?" he asked.

Harry jumped in. "Let's just say it started out that way, but we
turned a wrong corner."

Chakotay shook his head, a smile displaying his trademark dimples
which were still as deep as ever. "Kathryn, this can't be your idea;
not stick-to-Starfleet rules Kathryn Janeway!"

She was still hovering in front of the view screen. "Actually it was
Tuvok's idea..."

Tuvok suddenly jerked to attention. "Captain, it was not my intention
for this..."

B'Elanna, sensing a need to shift the current line of thought,
interrupted. "Um... not to change the subject, but... but... uh... are
you ... and Captain Janeway... uh... I mean.. she called you...
you..." She stammered and turned irately on Janeway. "Captain, why 
didn't you say anything to us?"

Kathryn begrudgingly pulled her concentration away from the screen.
"That's another part of this long story. In due time, B'Elanna." And
she returned back to her center of attention.

Chakotay moved nervously. "Well... um... I really wasn't expecting
company quite so soon. I'd better get myself a little better
prepared."

Janeway now looked beyond him. In the background, she recognized the
structure from years ago. "You're still... there..."

"Mmm... made a few changes and improvements."

A muddled chattering could be heard in the background, also behind
Chakotay. He turned and called sternly, "Max! Quiet"

Kathryn's face brightened. "Max? He's still around?"

"Hasn't left me since you did. He seemed to sense that I would need
companionship. He even comes into the house every now and then, just
sort of looking around... wondering..." He sat back, his smile pushing
away the worn weariness that had been his body when they first saw
him.

"An hour, hmm? Why will that hour seem longer than these five years?"

"An hour. We will be there. Oh, yes... we will be there..." she said.

"I've been waiting since that first day after you left. I've kept up
the booster hypos of the viral antiserum, so as not to have a relapse.
I wanted ... to be ready. Well, I have a lot to do..."

"Yes, you do," she said quietly. "Janeway out."

"For now," he whispered back, as the screen went blank.

With the close of the link, Tom, Harry and B'Elanna were clamoring all
over Janeway, their questions coming at her faster than energy blasts
from a phase rifle.

"Captain... the antiserum... worked?... husband?...how long?...
when?... and you never told anyone?... no wonder you went into
those... and Tuvok, you knew? why, you old.... Man, I sure hope no one 
calls in any of those old Voyager bets... "

Janeway put up her hands, begging for some quiet.

"All right. You deserve to know the entire story. And yes, Tuvok has
known... *most* of it. He had to, in order for me to have his trust
over those..." her voice began faltering, "...those empty years.

"When Voyager returned to New Earth for us, we were quite shocked. As
more than two months had elapsed and we had heard nothing, we decided
that you were a good distance further along in your trip back to the
Alpha Quadrant. Following the plasma storm that I told you about that
had destroyed my research equipment, I truly felt lost, and for the
first time admitted that we might be remaining on the planet for a
long time... although I *did* think that eventually Starfleet... or
someone... [she winked here] would come back for us. But... the raw
energy of that storm ripped away something that I had long hidden
inside... something that Chakotay knew was there.... and I should
have."

She paused, and took a deep breath. "We have loved each other since
that first year on Voyager. It just took being deserted on an alien
planet with no one but ourselves before we could admit it."

She looked around. "Well? What would *you* have done?"

Seven started to answer the rhetorical question, but Harry quickly
shushed her...

"Here we are... seemingly a Delta Quadrant version of the old story of
Adam and Eve... and if Starfleet *did* come for us... it could have
been decades later... and we wanted ... to make sure... that we would
be... remembered."

The quartet was now thoroughly engrossed in her tale, as Tuvok quietly
took over the helm, preparing for their last slipstream journey.

"Like the "original" Earth pair, we had no one there to bless our
union other than ourselves..." a slight smile illuminated her face...
"but, as a Starfleet captain, I decided that I could do the honors.
So, it was in that sense, that we were..um... joined. When Voyager
came back for us, we knew that we could not continue the journey as a
married couple, for the good of the ship, so Chakotay chose to stay
behind, with the long range hopes of our making it back one day. I
devised with Tuvok the story that you as the crew would be told...
that the antiserum had not worked in his body, and that he would have
to remain. I'm afraid I tampered with Starfleet property in recording
those erroneous results in the medical logs."

Tom sank back, the first one to say anything. "Whew! Guess I know now
why you got all hot and bothered when B'Elanna and I started getting
‘friendly'. That explains a lot!"

"And the decision with the Borg," B'Elanna chimed in. "I'd worked with
Chakotay too closely long before; I know he would have changed your
mind about *that* decision, too!"

"Yeah," Harry interrupted. "But then... we wouldn't have found
Seven"... he smiled at her... "or gotten to know her and have her help
us through so many problems... and having her help us with the
slipstream technology, which is why we're here right now anyway."

"Indeed, Mr. Kim... an astute observation of coincidence and fate,"
Tuvok commented, looking up from his work. "And now, I have located
the final slipstream corridor for this journey. I would suggest that
we all prepare for it."

The crew settled back into their assigned positions, Janeway sitting
in the Captain's chair, looking for the first time since they could
remember... looking like a captain.

"Thank you, Tuvok. Please relay the coordinates to the helm."

"Mr. Paris has them already, Captain."

"Very well. Mr. Paris, lock on to the coordinates and prepare for
slipstream shift, warp 7." she called out.

"Aye, aye, sir!" came his affirmative compliance. And the USS Albany
outraced the stars through the slipstream's distort of time and space.

---

Only moments had passed when the ship suddenly appeared at the edge of
the plasma anomaly of the final slipstream entrance. They were just
outside of the gravitational pull a dwarf yellow sun.

Seven looked up at the viewport. "Captain, we have arrived in the area
of the quadrant that you indicated. We should be able to see the
planet for which you are searching about... now!" she pointed to the
screen, as a distant object appeared as a small orbiting planet,
forming a shallow crescent in the shadow of its sun.

"New Earth... Chakotay!" the older woman whispered.

The five other members on the ship were watching a transformation
occur with their former captain. The very thin woman took on a
radiance that they had never seen before, her dark eyes glowing with
an inner light. Tuvok took the initiative to speak. "Captain, we 
should hail the Commander and let him know of our impending arrival."

"Yes, yes; of course," she said, suddenly pulling back to reality.
"And we should prepare an away team to go down..."

Tuvok gently iterated. "Captain, might I suggest that just you go down
at first... to greet the Commander? He... um... he hasn't seen people
in a long time, and perhaps it would unwise for him to be faced
with... such a large group."

Seven said, "I hardly think that three or four people could be
considered..."

Harry cut her off. "Um... Seven, Tuvok is right. We can set up an
orbit around the planet, and be within contact if necessary. Chakotay
and the Captain... need to meet alone at first."

Rebuffed, Seven continued, "Starfleet regulations state that any away
team should be composed of at least..."

Tom was laughing now. "Since when has this trip been by Starfleet
regs? Come on, Seven... think a bit!"

Janeway began laughing at the banter. "Well, this is fine, but she's
right. We really should have someone..."

The comm link became live. Chakotay had picked up their signal.
"Albany... USS Albany... come in!"

Harry touched the screen in front of him, and Chakotay's image, now
very clear, showed up on the view screen.. That was all it took for
Janeway. She spoke his name, and then announced that she alone would
be joining him momentarily.

His smile lit up the galaxy. "Welcome home, Kathryn."

She lowered her head, hoping that her blush wouldn't be too
noticeable. Regaining her composure, she said, "Give me five minutes.
I would like to change.. and there's something I have for you."

He laughed. "And I have a lot for you, too!" He paused. "But, Kathryn,
please come down in your uniform."

She looked at him, a startled question coming over her face.
"What?"

"I'll explain... later," he answered, his eyes showing more life than
she could even remember. "Five minutes... one for every year --- no
more!"

"No more," she whispered as the link closed.

"Mr. Tuvok, you have the bridge. I'll... I'll be going planetside for
a while."

"Yes, Captain," came his serious response.

---

Four minutes and twenty-five seconds later, Kathryn Janeway was in the
transporter room. Tom and B'Elanna were waiting for her, their smiles
as radiant and happy as hers.

"Ready?" Tom asked.

"I'm... nervous," Janeway stuttered.

"Just be yourself; he won't bite!" B'Elanna retorted.

"Hmmm... *you* do," Tom chimed in. "And that isn't such a bad
thing..." he continued with a grin, setting the transporter into
action.

B'Elanna whacked him.

And as she had five years earlier, Janeway twinkled into the miasma of
space between a Starfleet vessel and New Earth. But this time, her
expression was filled with the life and hope and she had left behind
on that formidable day so long ago

---

The sun was low in the sky as she appeared in the glen in front of
Chakotay's --- no, *their* --- home. The building was a sturdy one,
its exterior constructed of weathered logs. A small garden remained in
the area where she had made her feeble attempts at becoming an
agricultural technician. The plants were copious with ripening
products: bright flowers hung their heavy heads, welcoming the hungry
flights of birds and insects. Vines of verdant squash and globular
gourds twined and twisted around the slats of a trellised fence,
playing hide and seek among the broad leaves of the plants. And there,
to one side, stood a half a dozen tall plants, their sturdy stems
gravid with bright red fruits and supported by stakes... her Talaxian
tomatoes!

But the one object in this pastoral scene that commanded her attention
stood tall and serene only a meter in front of her --- Chakotay.
He was darker than she had remembered him, a product of his rustic
life. His body was much leaner, hard and compact from his physical
activity. His thinness accentuated his angled chin, which was a pivot
point for his face. High cheekbones formed shadowed shelves for his
deep eyes... eyes that seemed wearied but exuberant at the same time;
eyes harboring anxiety and desire. The thick shanks of his raven hair,
now highlighted with the coming snows of age, were pulled severely
back, their meter long lengths held by a carved bone ring. His clothes
hung on his lanky frame, garments that brought back memories of
another life: the soft brown trousers that he was always partial to,
and the homespun ivory shirt with its dart-like sienna design which
had always been her favorite. The folds of excess loose fabric were
held in place with his brown belt, its surplus length dangling in the
soft breeze.

The scene was frozen in time and space, neither of them wanting to
move for fear of the other disappearing. As if in duet, they each took
a deep breath, and emitted apprehensive laughs, a release from the
emotional prison that had entombed them for the past five years. A
slow dance began, as each one took a tentative step towards the other,
their arms progressively reaching out for first contact.

He seemed taller; she, shorter, as their bodies merged into their
continuum. Her fingers, with a delicate deliberateness, ran down the
length of his face, finally encircling his lips. His hands found a
wider surface, as they reached around her, pulling her towards him.
His fingers extended a trail down her back, finally forming loving
cups around the rounded flesh of her lower body, drawing her warmth
towards his.

"I can't believe you're here," he murmured, raining soft kisses over
her upturned face, wanting to assure himself that she was a solid
being.

"You have been only a dream for so long."

"My dreams have been more like nightmares; but it has been your face
that has been before me in my waking hours that kept me sane," she
responded.

*Enough of words*, they called out silently, their mouths searching
for a long absent union. Earlier concerns about how they would feel
about their reunion quickly melted, as they opened to each other,
devouring the fears and delusions of five years. Forgiveness of
decisions made and gratitude for promises kept all commingled in the
joining of their spirits. Hands explored forgotten territories,
searching for lost oases of delight. Past years became future hours.
In a movement that repeated a defining moment years earlier, he
loosened her hair, and lovingly pulled it over her shoulders,
unleashing its welcome wildness.

He reluctantly pulled away, admiring the radiant woman in front of
him. "Come; I have a surprise for you," he grinned at her, taking her
hand and leading her towards the house.

"And I for you," she answered, her voice youthful in anticipation of
their shared gifts as she reached under her tunic and pulled out a
small package. "But... yours first.," she laughed. "You... and your
surprises!"

They half walked, half danced through the door of the house. Kathryn
drew back when she saw what all he had done. In addition to the outer
log finish, he had completed interior walls of the house and painted
murals on all of them... scenes from Trebus; Earth; Bajor; and loving
reminiscent images of Kathryn on New Earth --- in the garden; over her
computer; asleep in their bed, her body and hair like liquid flowing
over its surface. Wooden furniture had taken the place of most of the
metallic modular pieces that they had brought from Voyager.

"I used most of the metal in constructing the communication array and
a small tracking station," he answered before she asked. "Besides...
you know that I've always liked working with wood; it's kept me out of
mischief," he grinned at her.

He turned and quickly walked over to one of the separate rooms.
"There's something else I made... although it's only been in the past
hour. But it's something I've been hoping to have the opportunity to
make for five long years."

She looked at him curiously, as he darted into the room. He reentered
just as quickly, holding a piece of folded material in his hands.

"I apologize; it's replicated. But it's for you."

She placed her small package on the table and reached over, letting
the fabric open as she picked it up. The lines of a simple blue dress
unfolded, just like one that she had worn years ago, here... in their
world.

"I wanted you to have a ‘welcome home' dress," he said softly.

"And that's why you wanted me to wear my uniform down?" she asked,
still somewhat confused.

"No," he answered, slowly coming over to her. "That request is because
I have always wanted to take you out of your uniform. Do you know that
I never have? I've wanted to do it, just to prove to us that we could
remove Starfleet from our private lives." He reached for the closure
seam on her tunic and started to unfasten the outer garment.

She grinned at him. "Do you think Starfleet would approve of our
actions?"

"Not in the slightest," he smiled in answer, while removing the bulky
tunic and turning his attention to her jersey. He tenderly drew the
garment over her head, and laid it next to the tunic. "One less layer
of regulation."

Her hands had found his belt, and they were busily separating the two
ends. The worn leather fell to the wooden floor, blending with its
dark surface. Her hands were getting lost in the folds of his shirt,
its well-worn softness caressing her hands as she attempted to lift it
form his torso.

Likewise, he was tugging at her tank top, extracting its long tail out
from out of the confines of the waistband. He met with a delayed
success, and pulled it over her head now. In drawing the shirt up, his
hands brushed her aroused breasts, and she let out a small gasp.

"Oh!" she emitted, surprised by the accidental erotic touch that
suddenly sent a shock wave through both of them.

Chakotay's romantic notion of de-Starfleeting Kathryn Janeway was
quickly thrown to the winds as their remaining clothing was scattered
to the four corners of the room. A trail of the last remnants of their
attire led to the room that had been their bedroom.

An overwhelming desire for denied consummation of their passion forged
their anticipated union ahead with the momentum of an avalanche. Each
had wanted a slow renewal, allowing them to savor the small delights
that they had remembered from over the years. But that was not meant
to be, for that primal force which is outweighed only by the essential
necessity for water and food had overtaken all sensibilities. They
fell onto the bed in tandem, their bodies demanding satisfaction for
unfulfilled needs, needs that only they could supply for each other.

Tender preliminary gestures were forgotten, as hungry flesh opened to
penetrating firmness, accepting an explosion of hurried hunger. Cries
and sighs and gasps sang throughout the house, bringing to it a
long-forgotten song. Arms and legs tangled together medusa-like,
unwilling to unravel the puzzle. He fought for air, as her breathing
came in short, staccato gasps. Perspiration glistened on their
foreheads and cheeks and arms and bodies.

He finally managed to speak. "I'm sorry; that wasn't... the way... I
had planned this..."

She smiled back. "Nor I. But... it's never like it is in the story
books..."

He laughed, looking down at her, brushing back the strands of hair
tenaciously sticking to her cheeks. "And just what sort of books do
you read?"

"Who wants to *read* them?" she asked. "I want to write them with our
actions."

She chuckled, thinking back to her original idea of one or two from
the crew coming down with her.

"And what's so funny, beautiful lady?" he asked.

"At first, I thought that we'd better play this mission by the books,
and have an official away team come down to meet you."

Now it was his turn to laugh. "Let's see... who could have best
handled this little exhibit? You probably could answer that better
than I..."

She gave it some thought. "Well, Tuvok would have died of
embarrassment; Harry would be mortified... we're too much like parents
to him. Seven would study it for future reference, and Tom and
B'Elanna would probably join in..."

Chakotay raised up at this statement. "What?"

Janeway suddenly realized that he hadn't known; how could he?

"Oh, yes; Tom and B'Elanna are married," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Now there's something I never saw coming," he said, in a mild state
of shock.

She gave her head a thoughtful shake. "Well, our news was likewise a
surprise to them --- I think. Except Tuvok, of course. But then... you
knew that I was going to confide in him."

The throes of their initial passion were ebbing, allowing Kathryn for
the first time to look around at her current surroundings. Chakotay
had rebuilt the bed... their bed. Its heavy frame was constructed of
the same dark wood that framed the exterior of the house now. The
headboard that he had made a lifetime ago was gone, replaced with
another example of his artistic craftsmanship. It was a display of
inlaid shapes of wood and shells, creating a mosaic poem of texture
and color. She reached out, and ran her hand over the surface.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

"It's beautiful!" was her simple reply.

"There is a story with every piece."

"And I want to hear every one of them," she responded, reaching up and
pulling him down to her.

The resulting kiss was slow and deliberate and considered. This time,
it was a luxuriant walk through a warm glen, with time for exploration
and tasting and feeling and sensing. The earlier ones had been out of
urgency and desire; now it was time for one of love and consecration,
of thanksgiving and gratitude... for the sacrifices they had made of
each for the other.

A "click" came from within the wall, and a soft light lit the room.
Its gentle illumination signaled a message to Chakotay. He reluctantly
pulled away from Kathryn and glanced at the light.

"The evening lamps have come on," he said.

"Yes?" she asked groggily.

"It's getting dark outside. We should be getting the rest of the crew
down."

"Mm. Perhaps. Or... I could ask if they would mind remaining aboard
until tomorrow."

He grinned at her suggestive proposal. "And they wouldn't... um... be
suspicious?"

Her soft laughter wrapped itself around him. "I'm the captain," she
answered.

"Yes, you are," he agreed. "But... we really should contact them."

"Perhaps you're right." She looked at their current condition. "But
maybe we should do something about this, or else make sure they don't
turn on a viewscreen."

"I could add a little static interference," he added.

"I like that!" she responded with mischievous glee.

With a great deal of effort, they moved from their connubial nest, and
searching for Janeway's communicator.

The rapid response on the Albany's end indicated that her five
inhabitants were anxiously awaiting news from the planet.

"Captain!" Harry's voice responded. "Is everything all right?"

"It couldn't be better," she smiled into the comm. "But... Harry...
um... we would like to have a little more time..."

A chorus of low chortles could be heard from the orbiting ship.

"Understood, Captain," Harry half-laughed. "Um... is there anything
you and the commander need?"

"Time, Harry; just time. Catch you in the morning. Janeway out."
She turned into his waiting arms.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"Not really," she responded, falling into his embrace.

A reverent silence filled the room, as they reacquainted themselves
with familiar touches and tickles, awakening long dormant physical
sensations.

"Chakotay... do you still have my bathtub?" she asked, finally
breaking the silence.

His fervent smile told her that he had been waiting for this question.
"Come; see."

He led her through a door at the back of the house, to an alcove that
she had not remembered.

The room was a half-circle, with it long flat wall attaching it to the
house. The graceful curving exterior wall was constructed of an
intricate layout of small jalousied slats. They were entirely opened,
allowing a flow of the warm evening air and the soft illumination of
the sparkling starlight to fill the room. He had trained thick lush
vines to form a frame around its perimeters; heavy petaled white
flowers on the vines showered their fragile fragrance throughout the
room. In the center of the room, on a small platform, sat the tub that
he had lovingly built for her years before.

Kathryn stood silently in awe of the unworldly scene that the room
provided.

"It's been my sanctuary for remembering you," he whispered into her
ear.

"Oh, Chakotay!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "It's... it's
magnificent!"

"Would you like to... um... try it out?" he asked.

"Only if you join me," she answered, an inviting teasing smile in her
eyes.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. The water should still be warm in
solar storage tank. I'll get things ready."

He walked over to the tub and opened its water spigot, testing its
temperature. Satisfied with his findings, he pulled a small vial from
under the platform and added its contents to the streaming water;
waves of a delicate fragrance wafted into the evening air.

She followed him over to the massive wooden tub, allowing the swirls
of water dance around her hand as they flowed into the tub. Chakotay
walked behind her, his naked body warm and stimulating on hers.
Flutters of fleshy movement from him, an indicator of his once more
aroused passion, throbbed against the rounded mounds of her buttocks.
Perhaps the bath should wait...

Warm vapor rose as the water filled the tub. The scent from the water
mingled with that of the blooms framing the room, creating a sensual
invitation. As the whirling waters neared the top, they eased their
bodies into the soothing pool. Small waves washed against their
movements, lapping and licking their skin.

Kathryn leaned forward towards her tubmate, his face and hair now wet
from the eddying waters. "I love you so much," she whispered, adding
the moistness of her kiss to the surrounding water.

"Not a moment has gone by that I haven't whispered your name," he
responded.

"I know; I heard every one," she said.

Small waves became midsized ones as they washed themselves free of all
the lost times. Midsized waves became breakers, as they filled
themselves again with lost love. The floor surrounding them soon was a
pond, as their increasing desperate desires spread the water out of
its confines. Echoes of their contentment escaped from the room, into
the sleeping world outside.

---

Pastel sunlight trickled through the window, bathing the forms of the
bed with its peaceful rays. Soft murmurs indicated that they were not
asleep... or rather, that they had not slept much. Low laughs from the
lovers greeted the new day, full of hope and happiness with their
renewed life together.

"I really should contact the Albany," she sighed.

"Do you really think they expect it?" he grinned, brushing the hair
back from her face.

"We've kept them waiting long enough," she answered, her fingers
teasingly running down his chest... and lower.

"And we've kept each other waiting long enough," was his groaning
retort.

"I think I'll invite them down," Kathryn announced emphatically.

Chakotay's response was one of surprise. "Is that wise?"

Ignoring the true intent of his statement, Kathryn stated seriously,
"Oh, they've had the vaccine for the virus. We made sure that everyone
was safe early in the voyage here."

"No," he said laughingly, while tickling the soft skin of her
underarms, "I mean... is it safe to be around *us*?"

"Ohhhh, don't do that!" she moaned, reacting to the sensuality of his
touch. "Really... we should try to get back to reality..."

"I suppose you're right," he sighed, pulling his hands back to
himself.
"But just for a while..." he continued with a wicked grin.

"You're insatiable," she said, kissing him but throwing back the
covers at the same time. "but so am I."

As she slipped into the small bathroom area, he rolled over into the
area she had just vacated, reveling in her residual warmth and scent,
thanking his spirits for guiding her safely back. None of his dreams
or visions had prepared him for the happiness that they had shared in
the last twelve hours; no person in the universe could even begin to
reach the level of joy they felt... no one!

---

He traded kisses and places with her as she came out. As he now joined
her in the great room of the house, she greeted him dressed in the
simple blue dress that he had given her. Her hair, still damp from her
shower, smelled of the flowers from the vines around the bathing area.
All she needed was a shimmering halo, and he would know that he was in
heaven.

"I'm glad that you liked my gift," he smiled, walking around her and
examining the dress on her. "Although, I'm afraid it's a little big."

She laughed, pulling him into her embrace. "Chakotay, better to err on
the side of having clothing too big than too little for a woman!
Besides... I've had a lot more on my mind lately than eating; I guess
I've lost some weight..."

His eyes caught a glimpse of the small package that she had brought
down from the ship the previous day.

"You never showed me what you brought," he stated, an expression of
curiosity coming across his dusky face.

Kathryn jumped back, seeming a bit embarrassed at her forgetfulness.
"Oh, my. I did forget, didn't I?" She turned and retrieved the box
from the place where she had put it the day before., and sheepishly
returned to him.

"I hope you won't mind, but I have brought something for us to share.
It's an old tradition from Earth, and isn't done much anymore, but I'm
hoping you will be in agreement to participate in its meaning."

He looked at her with a inquisitive eyes. "What? What is it?" he
asked, reaching for the cloth-covered box she held out to him.

He raised the hinged lid to reveal a pillowed interior, with a narrow
slit bisecting it. Inserted into the crevice were two rings of gold,
each one embossed with an encircling repetition of the design of his
tattoo. He looked at them, and then at her.

She softly explained their meaning. "I know that the tradition of
exchanging rings when two people marry isn't done much anymore, but I
would like for us to have these as reminders... if we are ever parted
again... of our eternal love for each other."

"Kathryn...." he whispered, shaking his head in awe of this woman who
for so many years he had considered lost. "You are remarkable! I
have... thought about this also. Our minds and spirits *have* been
linked over these years..." He fingered the design, noting its exact
replication. "You have honored me... us... in doing this."

He removed the smaller ring from its place, and took her hand, gently
sliding the metallic circle down the ring finger of her left hand.
"From this day forward, we are bound to each other... for eternity and
after."

She took the box from him, and withdrew the other ring, placing the
now-empty box on the table. She took his hand and smiled as it glided
down his thick finger. "You are the love of my life and my reason for
living. I have not... nor ever will... stop loving you," she said.

He leaned down and tenderly kissed her. "Now and forever, Kathryn
Janeway. You will never be free of me or my spirit."

A buzz from her comm badge interrupted them. They looked at each other
in shock, just as they had from that very same location over five
years ago... the day when a comm badge message would change their
lives for all time.

Kathryn hesitatingly answered its summons. "Janeway here."

"Good morning, Captain," said Tuvok's voice. "I trust that you...
slept well?"

She grinned mischievously at Chakotay, who was about ready to burst
with laughter.

"We are well, Tuvok. In fact, we were just about ready to invite you
down," she responded.

"I believe I speak for the rest of us when I say that we would be...
honored," he answered.

"We'll be waiting for you," Janeway said. "Why don't you use the same
coordinates for my transport yesterday?"

"Understood," came the reply.

Janeway and Chakotay quickly walked outside into the open area in the
front of the house just as five people materialized in front of them.

"Hello there," she smiled at them. "Welcome to our home on New Earth.
And this time, Mr. Tuvok, the ending of the story will be different!"

"Indeed," responded the Vulcan, his reply lost in the cacophony of
joyous greetings of the reuniting Voyager friends.

The morning light from the dwarf yellow sun smiled down its blessings
on new unions and old. The ending of this story was just the beginning
of another one.

---

The End