Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager and all things Starfleet belong to Paramount. No infringement intended.
Summary: Another take on the future following Endgame.
Safe Harbor
by Mizvoy
Chapter 5: Redirection
In the seven years since Voyager’s return, Kathryn Janeway had never missed the annual reunion at Sandrine’s, the real Sandrine’s near Paris, and this year was no exception. The only difference was that this year she came alone, having ended her long-term relationship with Richard Laramie two months earlier.
Nearly seventy of the Starfleet portion of the crew arrived, including Harry Kim and Tuvok, but Kathryn missed the rest of her senior staff—Chakotay, Tom and B’Elanna, even Neelix—not to mention the rest of the Maquis. They had never come to a reunion, and no reunion had ever seemed complete to her because of that.
She made her way toward Harry Kim, now a lieutenant commander on the list for promotion. After the usual pleasantries, she asked him whether he’d decided which position he’d take next.
He smiled at her, glad to have someone he trusted to talk to about the difficult choice. “No, Admiral, I’m still riding the fence. What do you think I should do?”
She gave him a sly smile. “Oh, no, you don’t. I’m not going to tell you what to do only to have you blame me later if you’re unhappy.”
“Damn,” he said, smiling back, enjoying their familiar banter. “Maybe I should ask you what you’d do in my position.”
“Well, that’s different,” she said, pulling him aside. “You’ve been offered the exec position on the Yamamoto, right? A galaxy class starship.”
“Yes. The CO is Captain Reynolds, the one who faced down the D’Trixl last year at the Corona Belt.”
“I know Frank pretty well. He’d be fair, and you’d learn a lot from him. But you’ve been a first officer for the last two years.”
“On a much smaller ship.”
She shrugged. “There isn’t much difference. A Galaxy class ship is going to be doing a lot of diplomatic work, hosting conferences, ferrying officials to and from meetings. Pretty routine, really. Your other choice is the center seat of the Cape Good Hope?”
“Yes. Crew complement of eighty.”
“Smaller, yes, but it has a much different mission when compared to the Yamamoto. You’d be on the fringes of Federation space doing research and exploring the frontier. Plus,” she said, giving him a wink, “there’s no position in Starfleet to compare with being the captain of a ship, Harry. Trust me.”
“I believe you. Other people have told me the same thing. I just wonder why you didn’t take another ship instead of a promotion?”
She closed her eyes. How could she explain it to him? After seven years with the same crew on Voyager, she was unable to see herself on any ship that didn’t have her “family” at her side. “Seven years on my own outside Federation space was enough,” she said, hoping he’d believe her. “Not that I haven’t missed the challenge of command.”
“Maybe you should rethink your decision, Admiral. I’d gladly serve as your first officer.”
She gave him a long look. “Tempting, Harry, but no dice. I might take a fleet position, but never a ship again.”
He seemed disappointed. “That’s Starfleet’s loss.”
“Well, there are capable officers coming up the ranks, Harry. People like you.” She slipped an arm around his waist. “Think it through. It’d mean longer separations from Libby and the girls,” she reminded him, glancing at his dark-headed wife across the room where she was talking with the EMH.
“Thanks for the advice, Admiral,” he said. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”
“Do that,” she said, her voice soft. “But be sure to talk it through with Libby. Command is lonely enough with support from home. It’s nearly impossible on your own.”
Harry nodded, wondering how she’d managed it all those years in the Delta Quadrant. Kathryn watched him return to Libby’s side, and then she began to work the room like a master. She was smiling and gracious, thoughtfully inquiring about the details of the crews’ lives, laughing at countless anecdotes, promising to look into new assignments, and committing herself to other celebrations—weddings, christenings, promotion ceremonies—until she had talked to nearly every person in the room.
She was about to take her turn in the annual pool tournament when the EMH approached her. “I thought, Admiral, that you might like to know about the name I’ve chosen.”
Kathryn could barely hide her surprise. “After all these years, I may never get used to the idea of you having a name, Doctor. Tell me what you decided on.”
He looked sheepish. “I decided on Edward Mark Holloman.”
“E.M.H.” She smiled broadly at the irony of it all—a holographic doctor named Holloman. “Nice touch.”
“It made sense to me.”
“Doctor Holloman. I like it. I can’t think of a better choice.”
“Thank you. But please, call me Edward.”
She laughed and put a hand on his arm. “You’ll have to give me some time on that, Edward.”
“I understand that you saw the commander recently.”
She faltered only slightly. “Yes. You didn’t see Chakotay while he was on earth?”
“No. I was on Vulcan at the time at a conference. I was wondering how he was doing since Seven’s death.”
“He seemed to be adjusting well, although there were moments of sadness, of course. He needs time to come to terms with what’s happened.” She paused, remembering how much the doctor had cared about the former Borg. “How are you doing, Doctor? You and Seven were close friends.”
The hologram seemed genuinely touched that she remembered. “I felt helpless. I wanted so much to find a cure. I thought I was an expert at Borg technology.” He shrugged.
“I can understand how you felt, but nothing short of a new cortical implant could have saved her. I’m the one responsible for separating her from the collective, remember?”
The doctor’s reply was immediate. “No, Admiral, don’t blame yourself. Just before Seven lost the ability to speak, we talked about you. She told me how much she’d come to appreciate all you’d done for her in the Delta Quadrant, all the time you’d spent with her as she grappled with her individuality and humanity. She didn’t blame you for what was happening to her, and I know she wouldn’t want you to do so either.”
“Easier said than done,” Kathryn whispered.
She spent the next two hours winning in the pool tournament, as usual, and then, well after midnight, she made her way to the bar, ordered a double scotch, and retreated to a corner booth where she could relax and watch the crew.
“May I join you, Admiral?”
She looked up to find her friend, Tuvok, standing over her. She was always happy to see him, always relieved that his family had successfully cured his illness in spite of the Borg assimilation. Now retired, he’d traveled all the way from Vulcan to attend the party. “Please, sit down.”
The Vulcan slid into the seat across from her and eyed her drink. “Scotch?”
She smiled. Tuvok knew she resorted to hard liquor only when she was in emotional turmoil. “Actually,” she admitted, “a double scotch.”
“I see.” He sat quietly, waiting, she supposed, for her to resume the conversation. She wondered when it was that he’d figured her out so completely.
“We had a very good turnout this year, don’t you think?”
“Indeed. Nearly half the crew.”
“Yes. A big percentage.” She took a deep sip of the scotch, closing her eyes as it burned in her throat. “So, why do I keep thinking about the ones who aren’t here?”
“The ones we lost?” he asked, “or the ones who never come?”
“Both,” she whispered. “We were a family out there, Tuvok. Will we ever be together again?”
He studied her face, knowing what she wanted him to say, yet unable to deceive her. “I believe, Admiral, the odds are against that ever happening.”
She looked away, holding up the glass. “And so, the scotch.”
“You’re still adjusting to Seven’s death.”
“Seven’s death, yes. Plus all the others who never come. The ones we never see.”
“Perhaps you should visit them.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Almost every Starfleet crew member has attended a few of these reunions. The only ones who have ‘never come’ are the Maquis. Perhaps you should visit them.”
She took another drink, marveling at the Vulcan’s uncanny ability to sense her emotions while repressing his own. “It takes over two weeks to get to Dorvan and the same to come back. Even if I stay there a short time, the trip would take too long.”
“You have the leave, I’m sure, and it’s much easier for one person to travel so far than to expect thirty two to do so.”
She laughed. “A logical response.”
“I thought so.” He watched her intently. “You’re in the process of changing jobs. A perfect time to take some much needed leave.”
“I went there a couple of years ago.”
“I remember.”
“Richard and I were on DS9 for a conference, and we swung by for a long weekend visit.” She studied the ice in her glass. “The Maquis were special to me, Tuvok. They chose to follow me. Their loyalty was personal.”
“That is true. And half of your senior staff is there.”
“Yes, they are. I want to see Miral and the twins. Tom and B’Elanna are so special to me, Tuvok. Chell and Ayala. All the new spouses and children.”
“Chakotay.”
Kathryn’s head snapped up. “Yes. Chakotay, too.” She finished the drink. “I miss them.”
“You just recently spent several weeks with the commander, I believe.”
She smiled weakly. “He was here for awhile. I think he was traveling around the Federation to get over Seven’s death. He said Dorvan had too many painful memories right now.”
“Harry Kim was very complimentary of the work you did together on the first contact course. He said the holodeck scenarios were especially realistic.”
“No one has more deep space first contact experience than Chakotay, you know. Remember how he’d take a shuttle out to forage remote trading posts and likely planets? I never knew for sure that he’d survive, yet he managed to return in one piece.”
“I never envied him that assignment, I must admit.”
She closed her eyes and tried to relax. She enjoyed talking to Tuvok. He was her oldest friend, and she thought he had observed her closely enough over the years to read her mind. She wondered if he sensed how much she missed her former first officer. “It was good to work with him again. We were a good team.”
“Indeed you were. While I initially doubted your choice of Chakotay as a first officer, I must admit that he was a perfect match for you.”
He did know. Suddenly she felt exhausted. The scotch must be taking its toll. “A perfect match,” she murmured.
“How much leave do you have, Admiral?”
She shook her head and tried to think. “You know how little time off I’ve taken. I doubt the admiralty would complain if I took an extended leave.”
“Then you should do it. Staying longer on Dorvan would make the long trip less of an obstacle.”
“But, what about my career!”
For a moment, Tuvok nearly smiled. “You are already an admiral.”
She laughed. “You’re right, of course. What do I have left to prove?” She could feel her mood rising as she really considered taking Tuvok’s advice and spending time on Dorvan. “I’m afraid I’d just be in the way out there.” She gave him a long look. “Chakotay and I didn’t part on the best of terms.”
Her friend raised a delicate brow. “A disagreement?”
“Not really. Not an argument. Just a sudden feeling of discomfort. He pulled away, and I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Humans are very sentimental people. Perhaps he remembered a special event or date that he and Seven had shared. He had lost her just a few months earlier.”
Kathryn frowned. “Maybe that was it. He’s contacted me since and been quite friendly and kind. I might have imagined it.”
“I was hoping he’d stay long enough to attend this reunion. I have not seen him in many years.”
She smiled, glad that her two subordinates had overcome their initial animosity to become friends. “I asked him to stay, but he wanted to get back and participate in a new dig on Dorvan IV. The site has ferocious winters, and he said he’d miss the summer dig if he didn’t leave when he did.”
Tuvok pulled a PADD from his robes. “I saw this news item on my way here tonight. The Dorvan planetary government is considering a petition for full membership in the Federation. Perhaps you could participate on the Federation’s membership evaluation team? Would you be more willing to spend the time traveling to Dorvan if you could combine work and pleasure?”
For the first time that night, she felt hopeful. She took the PADD and studied it carefully, imagining what she’d have to do to be appointed to the committee. She had worried about going to Dorvan for no good reason, but, if she were on the Federation team . . . .
“Tuvok, you’re a genius. You knew just exactly what I wanted . . . no, what I needed to hear. This actually makes sense.” She gave him a crooked grin. “For a Vulcan, you know a lot about human emotions.”
“Perhaps, Admiral, I know a lot about Kathryn Janeway.”
She laughed, feeling lighter by the moment. She felt great affection for this friend who had been thinking of her happiness. “Tuvok, you know that you are one of my dearest friends.”
“The feeling is mutual, Admiral.”
“So why don’t you call me Kathryn like my other friends do?”
“The use of a first name to a Vulcan suggests an intimacy that exceeds friendship.”
“You mean like family?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve known you longer than I’ve known anyone on Voyager. How many years must we be friends before we can reach this first name intimacy?” She sat back and gestured at the crew still partying around them. “This crew is my family, Tuvok, and so are you. We’ve been to hell and back together. Won’t you call me Kathryn?”
“If you wish.”
She waited. “So?”
“So, Kathryn, would you like another scotch?”
She smiled, happy to hear him say her name. “No, Tuvok, I’m better now, thanks to you. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to? Have you turned into a counselor for wayward human admirals?”
He did smile slightly. “Just for one admiral in particular.”
They talked until the wee hours of the morning, and when Kathryn returned home near dawn, she thought about how she would get herself appointed to the Federation team. It was a logical choice to send her, since she had such a close connection to an important sector of Dorvan’s population, and she was certain she could pull the proper strings to make it happen.
She would see all the Maquis again soon. She would be on Dorvan long enough to really reconnect with them and talk to them about their lives. It was important to her that they were happy, satisfied with their lives, and relatively undamaged by their years of exile. She would see Chakotay and make sure that everything was right between them, that their friendship was undamaged.
The sun was up when she crawled into bed, but she went right to sleep for the first time in weeks, slept through most of the day, and woke up happy and cheerful, anxious to start her journey. She always felt better when she had a goal to work toward, when she had a direction and purpose to her life.
Although it was early in the morning in Paris, she contacted Starfleet’s chief diplomatic attaché, Admiral Trudeau. “Rene,” she said, “I hear that we might be sending a membership committee to Dorvan V. I want to be on it.”