Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and its characters are the property of CBS/Paramount. No infringement intended.

Note: This A/U story takes place about seven months after “The Bride of Chaotica.”

Summary: Captain Janeway makes “second contact” with a previously hostile alien species.

Second Contact

By mizvoy

Voyager’s morning staff meeting was quiet and routine until Seven of Nine took the floor and began her report about the upcoming sectors of space.

“Thanks to the sensor upgrades we recently installed,” Seven began as she displayed a star map on the wall panel, “scans show that we’re approaching another region with subspace ‘sandbars’ like the one that trapped Voyager seven months ago.”

Tom Paris, who had been daydreaming for the last thirty minutes, suddenly perked up and asked a relevant question, “Did you say subspace ‘sandbars’? The time the trans-dimensional aliens declared war on my ‘Captain Proton’ holodeck scenario?”

“The very same,” Seven replied, arching an eyebrow. “As you can see, this entire sector is riddled with similar ‘sandbars.’ We’ll have to plan our course carefully or risk another delay.” The former drone continued talking, oblivious to the fact that only Tuvok and the captain were paying much attention to her report. Among the rest of the senior staff, the teasing had begun in earnest, and the sedate meeting was gradually giving way to amusement.

“I hope the captain didn’t recycle that amazing Queen Arachnia costume,” Tom said, glancing in Kathryn Janeway’s direction. “We may need her to wear it again if the aliens renew their attack.”

“And don’t forget the pheromones,” Harry Kim chimed in. “We used up Arachnia’s supply in the last confrontation and will probably need to gather a second vial, just in case she needs to seduce Chaotica again.”

Janeway focused her attention on Seven’s report until the discussion moved away from the Captain Proton program in general to the provocative details of the Queen Arachnia costume in particular. When a debate began on whether Arachnia’s physical attributes had been enhanced or simply accentuated by the cut and slinkiness of the costume’s material, the captain was unable to ignore the discussion any longer. She stood up and brought the room to silence with a glare that was softened by the grin that pulled at the corner of her mouth.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, “I would appreciate a little more decorum when speaking about my ‘attributes’ in my presence.” The staff laughed quietly, recognizing from her tone that while she was amused, she was unwilling to allow the conversation to continue along its current course without some sort of intervention.

The truth of the matter was that Janeway loved to see her crew happy, even at her own expense, and she dearly wished she could allow herself to respond in kind, as she would have done in different circumstances. But she never let herself forget the special demands that their unique situation required of her as the ship’s captain, and she deliberately chose a more remote and regimented demeanor as she repressed her scathing wit. Only Tuvok, who had served with her for years in the Alpha Quadrant, knew how much of her fun-loving nature she withheld and how much she missed being able to match wits with rogues like Tom Paris.

“I didn’t get to see you in your Spider-woman outfit,” Chakotay complained, giving her a teasing grin. “Maybe you could model it for those of us who weren’t on the holodeck that day?”

“Not on your life,” Janeway replied, holding up a hand to stop their protests. “Until further notice, Mr. Paris, I forbid you to activate your ‘Captain Proton’ program until we are well past these subspace sandbars. I don’t want to take the chance that the aliens will find it again and renew their attack.”

“Indeed,” Tuvok agreed, looking around the table at the grinning bridge crew. “It would be wise to avoid all holographic activity while in the region, just in case the aliens pick up on our presence once again.”

“Make note of that, Commander,” Janeway told Tuvok as she turned her attention back to Seven of Nine, who had been standing impatiently at the wall display. “Go ahead, Seven. I think these jokesters have had the floor long enough.”

Seven nodded, giving the crew an exasperated look. “As I was about to say, this is the best course for us to follow if we hope to avoid another delay.”

The staff meeting wound down in the usual fashion, and, when it ended, most of the staff was still smiling and teasing as they left the conference room. Chakotay lagged behind, having noticed that the captain had reactivated the wall display and was studying Seven’s star map with a thoughtful look on her face.

“Captain?” He could tell that the wheels were turning behind her blue eyes and suspected that she was thinking of something more ominous than a few jokes about a holodeck program. “Is something wrong?”

“I was just thinking,” she said absently, pointing at one of the larger sandbars. “If we can avoid these areas, then we can certainly hit one.”

Alarms went off in the first officer’s head. “Why would we want to hit one, Kathryn? We almost didn’t escape from that sandbar last year, and the aliens who attacked us then wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.”

“They were defending themselves from Tom’s absurd holodeck characters, Chakotay. They never met a real Starfleet officer, and we never managed a proper first contact.” She began to pace, thinking out loud. “I studied the holographic record of the aliens’ initial interaction with Chaotica. They told him they were explorers seeking new life forms, just as we are, but that they had never encountered non-photonic beings.” She faced him with her hands on her hips. “Do you know how Chaotica responded?” She waited a moment. “He had them executed on the spot. No wonder they attacked the holodeck.”

Chakotay frowned. “So you’re calling our battle with them a botched first contact?”

“That’s exactly what it was.” She was warming to the subject. “Did you ever imagine that a trans-dimensional photonic species could live in subspace? Think about what we could learn from them if we made a proper first contact. Or in this case, a proper second contact.”

“So, you’re considering a deliberate ‘grounding’ of the ship on a sandbar this time? With the hope that the aliens will find us again?”

“It’s worth a try.” She returned to the wall panel and pulled up Seven’s underlying telemetry as she fiddled with her commbadge.

Chakotay noticed her nervous tic with a feeling of resignation, knowing that he might as well stop arguing about this and start helping her explore whether her plan was feasible. “They aren’t exactly fond of us, after last time. You’d be risking another attack.”

“I’ve thought of that. We’d have to be running a holodeck program that’s a little less bizarre than Chaotica’s lair, one that more accurately reflects who we really are.”

“That should be easy enough to do. There are dozens of Federation scenarios to choose from.”

“And then, when they enter the program, I want them to meet a ‘holographic’ Captain Janeway.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“They interacted with the ‘president of Earth’ normally last time, so I want to appear to them as a hologram. I’m wondering if the doctor can devise a direct neural interface.”

Chakotay thought about that, a frown on his face. “I admit that it’s an interesting proposition, but can he do it?”

“I’m not sure, but I intend to find out.” She turned and gave him a thoughtful look. “We have a couple of weeks before we hit this region of space. I’ll consult with the doctor about the interface. You talk to Lieutenant Torres about the problems we might face if we get ourselves stuck again. If it’s a workable plan, I want to have everything in place as soon as possible.”

“All right, Captain. I have to admit that this is an interesting proposition.” He turned to leave the conference room and then paused, looking back at her. “There’s actually a record of the confrontation between Queen Arachnia and Chaotica?”

“That’s right,” she glanced at him, repressing a smile. “I made sure the entire conflict was retained for future reference.”

His eyes lit up. “So I could access it and see what you looked like in the Queen costume?”

“I’ve encrypted it, of course.” She made a face, and then gave him a brilliant smile. “Maybe someday, if you’re a good first officer—.”

“I’ll look forward to that day,” he laughed as he left the room.

Janeway returned to wall display, shaking her head and answering softly, “You should live so long, mister.”

The EMH had not been enthusiastic about Janeway’s plan for a direct neural interface with the holodeck.
“I don’t understand why you can’t simply gain access to the holodeck from the console in engineering,” he had complained. “You would appear to be fully photonic to the aliens without having to go through with this interface, and your interaction with them would be nearly the same as being there in person.”

“But it wouldn’t be nearly the same, Doctor,” she had disagreed. “I wouldn’t really be there.”

“I assure you that the aliens will not sense the difference.”

“And if they do?” She’d crossed her arms and studied the medical console in sickbay before turning her glare on the EMH. “This is probably our last chance to establish some sort of friendly contact with these aliens, and I’m not going to risk blowing it simply because the procedure might give me a headache.”

“You’re risking much more than a headache, Captain.”

She’d stopped him with a gesture. “And, anyway, it makes a difference to me. I want to be able to observe the aliens as we talk, pick up on their tone of voice and gesture, their body language. There’s much more to a first contact than just conversation.”

“Even if I am able to create a neural interface that performs the way you want it to, your time in the holodeck will be extremely limited.”

“Understood. I’ll take whatever time you can give me.” She’d ended their conference by giving him a direct order as she’d left sickbay. “Let me know as soon as the neural interface is ready for testing.”

That had been two weeks earlier. Now, Janeway stood beside the surgical biobed and regarded the holographic interface device with grim determination. She had expected it to look like the Kohl’s hibernation pod that she had used years earlier to defeat the clown that had held three aliens hostage, but this device was elegant and simple by comparison, even though the doctor acknowledged that it used a similar cortical process.

“This pod isn’t designed for hibernation,” he’d explained, “as much as it’s a temporary bypass of your own sensory organs in favor of those from the holodeck. The other real difference is that you will be mildly sedated to help you focus on the holo-input your mirror image will experience and to help you withstand the growing discomfort the device will create.”

Discomfort was an understatement. She had been through a series of short tests in the last week, none lasting more than fifteen minutes, and each one had left her with a splitting headache that bordered on a migraine and included a nausea that rivaled anything she’d ever experienced before. That had been bad enough, but even worse was the fact that the pain would be cumulative; the longer she was in the device, the greater the pain she would experience and the higher the chance that she would suffer serious neural damage.

“I estimate that you’ll have three hours before I’m forced to terminate the interface,” the doctor explained as he joined her beside the device, “and even then, you’ll need to spend another day in deep sedation to insure a full recovery.”

“Three hours should be long enough,” she decided with a nod. By sheer luck, Torres had determined that the ship would also suffer damage after three hours on the sandbar, and Janeway had taken that coincidence as a sign that her plan was destined to be successful.

“You’ll experience mild pain from the beginning,” the EMH warned her as she took a seat on the biobed, “and it will grow steadily worse as time passes. I’ll keep your condition under close watch, and if I detect any type of undue distress, I’ll terminate the connection.”

“Very well, Doctor.” She stretched out on the bed, looking up at the doctor with a grim smile. “But not too soon. Give this a chance to work before you abort the procedure, and give me as much warning as you can before you end it.”

He fussed over his contraption for a few moments before giving in to his petulance. “I don’t understand why I can’t be the one to interact with the aliens.” He attached the first cortical monitor to her forehead with a little more force than necessary. “I talked to them during Mr. Paris’s ‘Captain Proton’ scenario with great success, and I did so without the complications you’re facing.”

“The aliens would recognize you as the President of Earth,” she replied as she reached up and touched the first monitor, wincing at the odd sensation it created. “But they never actually laid eyes on Arachnia, and they won’t recognize me.”

“I could take a different form! I could even look like you.”

“We’ve been over this, Doctor,” Janeway answered, shifting slightly to find a comfortable position before she gave him a no-nonsense scowl. She could already feel a pinprick of pain from each of the four cortical monitors he had attached to her head. “Our first contact with this species was disastrous, and I’m not going to trust this one to anyone else, not even you.”

The EMH heaved a weary sigh of resignation. “Sickbay to bridge. The captain is ready when you are.”

“Understood,” Chakotay answered. “The target ‘sandbar’ is dead ahead. We should have impact in about two minutes. Good luck, Captain.”

“Same to you, Commander. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

The EMH pressed a hypospray into Janeway’s neck. She was sedated before the ship lurched to a sudden stop.

Janeway’s holodeck image stood in the middle of the central courtyard of San Francisco’s Starfleet Headquarters. For the first few moments, she was aware of being in both Sickbay and the holodeck, a sort of spatial double vision and caused both disorientation and nausea until she managed to focus her attention on the holodeck scenario and let her awareness of Sickbay fade into the background. All that remained of her “true self” was a slight twinge of pain caused by the neural interface, rather like a bad caffeine headache.
There was no guarantee that this plan would lure the aliens back to the ship. While subspace theoretically touched all areas of “real” space at once, Janeway had no idea whether these aliens could appear wherever they wanted to appear, whenever they wanted to do so. She hoped that the ship’s arrival on the subspace sandbar and the simultaneous activation of a photonic program would in some way alert the beings to her presence, but only time would tell. In the meantime, she had no choice but to relax, prepare for their arrival, and, if possible, enjoy the familiar surroundings.

The difference between visiting the holodeck and experiencing it as a hologram was more dramatic than she had expected it to be. She really felt as if she were on Earth. The sun was directly overhead on a balmy September day–her favorite season in California–and she could feel its warmth on her skin. A breeze from the south gently blew her hair and brought with it the fresh aroma of the ocean. She walked slowly through the gardens and then sat on a park bench to wait, the experience so true-to-life that her eyes brimmed with tears. If only she could go home so easily.

Most of the time, Janeway didn’t think about the fact that life on Earth continued without them. On an emotional level, she found it easier to pretend that her home world was frozen just as she had left it or was held in suspended animation awaiting her return. She liked to believe that she could just step back into her life once Voyager arrived home, as if she’d been gone on a routine three-week mission instead of an extended deep-space exile. The “Dear John” letter from her fiancé had temporarily disrupted that illusion, but she’d managed over time to distance herself even from that dose of reality. Now, for a few moments, she let herself think about what might really be going on in San Francisco, about the evolving issues with the Cardassians and the Romulans, about Mark’s marriage to the woman he met at work, about her mother’s advancing age, her sister’s marriage.

When those thoughts brought tears to her eyes, she brushed them away and grew impatient with her pointless self-indulgence. She knew that adding emotional angst to her physical pain endangered the completion of her mission. This was no time to indulge in nostalgic thoughts, not when the window of time for meeting the aliens was rapidly slipping away.

She focused her mind on the scientific accuracy of the program, wandering through the gardens and studying the loving detail that had gone into the scenario, noticing how each leaf and petal was perfectly designed, looking absolutely real even though it was just a trick of the light. She came to a sudden stop when it occurred to her that photonic aliens could also take any form they wished to take. They might appear as a humanoid, or they could be a conveniently placed trashcan, a piece of shrubbery, even a bird flying overhead. In fact, they might have been observing her since her arrival, and she wouldn’t have seen any evidence of their presence.

“Hello?” she said, turning around to look in all directions. “If you’re here, please make yourself visible so we can meet properly this time.” She stood still a few moments, absently rubbing her throbbing temple as she waited for some type of acknowledgement; when none came, she continued, “The last time we met, the conflict that broke out between us was a complete mistake. You interrupted a make-believe role-playing game that got out of hand. This time, you’ll be safe. I guarantee it.”

As she walked, she continued her monologue. “I heard your people say that you are explorers, seeking new ‘photonic’ life. Well, here I am, also an explorer, and I want to meet you.” She found herself back at the park bench and sat down in frustration. “All explorers have to take a chance now and then or nothing new will ever be experienced.”

She stopped talking when she saw the holographic sky fracture, allowing light to pour through the ‘rift’ and pile up in front of her like snow in a blizzard. Soon, a very human-looking male stood before her, about a head taller than she was and much heavier in build. He had sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and a hint of faded freckles, reminding her, at first, of Tom Paris, but then of a favorite Irish cousin, Cavan, even more.

She rose to meet him, and for a moment, they stared at each other in awe.

“Thank you for coming. My name is Kathryn Janeway.”

“Greetings.” The alien looked at their surroundings in surprise. “I have answered your summons, even though my people urged me not to take the chance.”

“I’m glad. What happened the last time was a terrible mistake.”

The alien nodded. “I’ve been observing you, waiting to see if any of the others appeared, as before.”

“You mean the holodeck characters? It’s just me this time,” she assured him.

“So I see.” He walked around the bench, taking in their surroundings. “Our people are interested in exploring new life, and, as you said, that activity sometimes requires us to take a chance.”

“Yes, it does. I want to establish friendly relations with you and your people.”

“Our first meeting was less than satisfactory.”

She smiled at his use of understatement. “It was unsatisfactory for us, as well. I take full responsibility for what happened. You arrived while some of my crew was involved in a photonic role-playing game that automatically included you into its plot.”

“A game? That was no game!” He gave her an angry look. “Hundreds of our people died, and dozens of vessels were destroyed or damaged in the conflict.”

“I didn’t mean to belittle the damage your people suffered, but simply to explain how the mistake happened.” Janeway took a calming breath as a sharp pain lodged behind her right eye. The tension she was experiencing was dramatically increasing her pain, and unless she could reduce the stress, the doctor might terminate her interface too soon. “This is our holodeck, and we sometimes use it for entertainment purposes. The photonic beings you met here were not really alive, but merely projections created by our computer.”

“Projections?” The alien shook his head in confusion. “Are you saying that you suffered no casualties from our battle?”

“No loss of life. Our holodeck has safeties that prevent injury to us while we’re here.”

“Because you are corporeal?”

Janeway nodded.

He frowned, obviously surprised by the news. “My people have always believed that all life is photonic.”

“And my people have always believed that all life is corporeal.” She smiled at him, hoping he would understand how important it was for them to continue to explore each other’s existence. “It would seem we were both wrong.”

“Then, it is possible for life to be physical in nature?”

“Absolutely. We are corporeal beings. This is a holographic representation of our world, a special area of our ship that has been designed to create photonic imitations of our corporeal existence.”

“Fascinating.” He shook his head in amazement. “This place does look much different than it did the last time we encountered your kind.”

“We can produce a variety of settings here, from realistic, like this, to unlikely, like the one your people saw initially. This scenario is a more accurate reflection of our true nature than the one you saw before.” She gestured at the calm park with its profusion of flowers and trees. “In fact, this location is a place I often visited on my home world.”

He nodded, “And you are called . . . Janeway?”

“Kathryn Janeway. I’m captain of the starship Voyager.”

“Starship? This pocket of space that suddenly appeared in our universe is actually part of your ship?”

Janeway sighed. “Yes, you are standing in our holodeck.”

The alien stared at her, struggling to understand what her existence might be like. “I have long hypothesized that corporeal life was possible, but my theories have been ignored or ridiculed by my people. When I received the report that our defense forces had been in a battle with corporeal beings, I was intrigued and wanted to explore this possibility in person. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was to learn that you had disappeared.” He studied her closely. “You appear to be photonic to me.”

“This is a photonic representation of what I look like,” she replied. “I was afraid that if I came here in my physical form, your people would choose not to meet me with me”

“You’re probably correct. I’m sure the fact that you are photonic was instrumental in my getting permission to meet you.”

“Then it was worth the effort.” She ran a hand across her forehead. “Right now, I’m elsewhere in the ship, communicating with you through a neural interface.”

“And this interface causes you pain, doesn’t it?”

She looked away, embarrassed that he had noticed her discomfort. “Is it that obvious?”

“There are times when your eyes lose focus, and you often touch the side of your head.” He seemed worried about her as he studied her face. “Perhaps we should terminate this meeting.”

“I assure you that the discomfort is worth the effort.” She glanced around, thinking it might help her put the pain aside if they were moving. “Let’s walk while we talk.”

The alien fell into step beside her. “You’ve gone to great lengths to meet with us.”

“As I should. I deeply regret what happened and wanted to apologize for it. I also wanted to show you our true nature. I wanted the chance to talk to you in a mutually acceptable environment and learn all I could about your people. Perhaps the next time we talk, I can come here as my true self.”

“Perhaps.” He spoke quietly, studying their surroundings as they walked through the gardens. “How is this artifice possible?”

Janeway spent a few minutes describing the sandbar that made it possible for them to meet in this shared pocket of subspace, but she quickly realized that the alien had no concept of space and time as she knew it. She, in turn, listened politely as he tried to explain the nature of his photonic life, but soon understood that she would need more time and thought before she could begin to appreciate what his life might be like. Eventually, they gave up on scientific explanations and focused on getting to know each other as fellow scientists and explorers.

He was curious about Voyager and concerned when he heard of their exile so far from their loved ones. “Is that why you looked so sad when you first appeared here?” he asked her. “Because you have been gone so long and wish to return here again?

She stopped in her tracks and shook her head in amazement. “You were watching me, weren’t you?”

“Yes, I was, when I wasn’t trying to convince my superiors to let me visit you.”

“I admit that I felt more homesick than I have in years. I think that the experience of this environment is more lifelike, and more poignant, when I am experiencing it as a holo-character.”

“And the pain,” he remarked, reaching tentatively toward her hair, “the pain weakens your resolve.”

“I guess it does.” She blinked back tears, amazed to find that her headache had increased exponentially because of his sympathetic concern. “I try not to show my crew how homesick and lonely I am. That’s not what they need from their captain.”

“Perhaps not, but what does their captain need?”

She closed her eyes against the tears that burned in them. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” he laughed, giving her a compassionate smile that reflected the sadness he saw in her eyes. “Say, we’ve lapped this garden at least five times. How about taking me inside one of these buildings for a look around?”

She took him to Starfleet headquarters where they found a cafeteria, sat down at a small table, and shared a pot of coffee.

“You haven’t told me your name.” Janeway watched as the alien took a sip of the bitter coffee and shivered in reaction. Laughing, she handed him a spoon and a few packets of sweetener. “You might like coffee better with some sugar. It’s an acquired taste.”

“Thanks. My name?” He said something unpronounceable and then smiled at the bewildered look on her face. “I’d be surprised if you could repeat it. Even I have trouble saying it while in this form.”

She shook her head, “I won’t even try.”

“Perhaps you can give me a name that you feel suits me.”

Janeway didn’t hesitate. “Cavan. I have a cousin by that name, and you remind me of him.”

“Cavan it is, then.” He stirred two teaspoons of sugar into the coffee and tasted it again, looking up with pleasant surprise. “Much better.”

Janeway gave him a wink. “I’ll make a caffeine hound of you, if you’re not careful.”

Cavan cradled the coffee mug and sat back to observe their surroundings. Starfleet officers hurried through the room with trays of food, nodding at them in polite ways as they found seats and began eating. Cavan took it all in, and in spite of her pounding head, Janeway felt unusually at ease around him, perhaps because his features seemed so familiar to her, perhaps because he was a kindred spirit. She idly wondered if his people were telepathic, but then brushed the thought aside as improbable.

“How will your people react to your account of our visit?” she wondered. “Will they think you’re making it up? Or are they watching us now?”

“They probably are watching us. But even so, they’ll suspect that I’ve overstated our compatibility simply because I have wanted so much to prove that corporeal life exists.” He shook his head and grew thoughtful. “I’m something of a non-conformist among my people. I like to push the envelope of traditional thought, even though doing so means that most people think of me as being out of touch with reality. I’ve been forced to recant some of my more eccentric beliefs, although I am glad to know that my theories about corporeal life will now have to be accepted.”

“Most creative thinkers have that problem—getting people to change their assumptions. It’s true in my society, too.”

“And you? Are you a non-conformist?”

Janeway frowned. “I was going to say that I push the boundaries of our scientific theories, too, but I realize that in some ways I also hold on tightly to the status quo.”

“A very understandable behavior, considering your current situation. When everything around you is an unknown, it’s only natural to hang on to the traditions and beliefs that comfort you and give you a sense of security.”

“That’s exactly it.” She studied the inside of her cup. “I’ve insisted that my ship conform to Starfleet standards, and I’ve clung to those standards for that very reason–because I need to have something familiar in the midst of the unknown.” She gave him an appreciative look. “You’re very perceptive.”

“Your instinct a few moments ago was correct. I’m aware of many of your thoughts, and I find your face especially expressive.”

Janeway could feel her cheeks warming with a blush. “I’d better watch what I think,” she said, glancing away in embarrassment.

“I sense your emotions more than your individual thoughts.” Cavan looked around the large room once again with interest. “I’ve seen the outdoors and the inside of a building. Could you show me what this holodeck area looks like without the program?”

“Hmm.” Janeway had to think. She had to leave the holodeck operating or risk deleting herself from the scenario and terminating their shared subspace bubble. “Computer, change to a program that resembles an inactive holodeck.” The room shifted to the familiar black with gold grid, leaving their table and chairs in place.

“Ah, much less attractive,” he commented looking around with interest. “And smaller than I thought. Are there other locations?”

“Dozens of them. Computer, activate Janeway program ‘Indiana home.'” The scene changed to the front porch of a farmhouse much like her parents’ home during a late summer afternoon. The illusion of farm country stretched to the horizon, and the smell of fresh air was intoxicating. “This is where I grew up.”

“You must miss these places.” His eyes studied her face. “I can tell that you do.”

She nodded. “I miss the sights and sounds of home, but I miss the people more. And I miss having time away from the crew where I can interact with others as myself instead of always being the captain.”

“You can’t do that with individuals on your crew?”

“Not to the extent that I’d like.”

“How about here, on the holodeck? Can’t you come here to relax with others and be yourself?”

“Holodeck characters tend to be flat and uninteresting, to tell the truth.” She gave him an appreciative smile. “They aren’t nearly as interesting as you are.”

“I’m flattered.”

“I can’t remember the last time I talked to someone this way, Cavan. It’s been a wonderful experience getting to know you.”

“The feeling is mutual. Unfortunately, frequent contact between our people will be difficult if not impossible.”

“True,” she agreed, draining the last of the coffee from her mug and setting it down on the low table between them. “I was hoping that we could meet again soon, that Voyager will come across more of these subspace sandbars as we travel toward our home.”

“I’d like that, but these sandbars, as you call them, are easily detected by my people, and I’m afraid there are very few of them in existence.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that.” Janeway was surprised by the sadness that washed over her, and realized that she and Cavan had become good friends in the space of just a couple of hours. He wasn’t a subordinate with whom she had to be a captain, he wasn’t an alien wanting her technology or blocking a shortcut toward the Federation, nor was he a government official who demanded things from her in exchange for things she needed. He was simply a fellow scientist, curious about anything new and unexplored, anxious to make friends with her as an equal, and their friendship reminded her of everything she didn’t have in the Delta Quadrant and couldn’t have on Voyager. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “You know, I could use a friend like you.”

“Your position isolates you from your subordinates.” He put a hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I understand how lonely that can be.”

Janeway was about to respond when a stab of pain overpowered her, as if an ice pick had been driven into her left temple. She leaned forward to rest her head in her hands as her perception of the holodeck scenario was overlaid with an unsettling shadow of Voyager’s sickbay. She fought back a rising tide of nausea and dizziness.

“Not yet, Doctor,” she muttered through gritted teeth, suddenly aware of the doctor’s presence beside the biobed. “Two minutes more, so I can bring this meeting to a proper close.”

Cavan also hovered over her, his hand on her shoulder. “Kathryn, you’re in distress. I understand that you must leave. Don’t put yourself in danger for needless formalities. I take no offense from the fact that you must leave quickly.”

“I’m sorry this meeting is over so soon,” she said, aiming her words toward Cavan’s voice. She was losing focus, and her friend was fading away from her as sickbay became more real to her than the holodeck. “Please tell your people about us, and explain that what happened before was a terrible mistake.”

“Of course, I will,” he responded. “And I’ll look for you again. Perhaps someday your ship will come across another anomaly that will allow us to resume our conversation.”

“I hope so, Cavan,” Janeway said, as she gave him a sad smile, her eyes drifting shut. “Thank you for trusting me, and for being my friend.”

“It was my pleasure, Kathryn Janeway.”

She heard rather than felt the EMH press a hypospray into her neck as the holodeck evaporated and she fell into a deep sleep.

The next day, as soon as the doctor released her from sickbay, Janeway joined Seven of Nine in the Astrometrics lab and asked whether there were any signs of more subspace sandbars in their projected course.
“I’m sorry, Captain, but there are not,” Seven reported. “It would seem that these two pockets of space might be unique in that regard.”

Janeway nodded and studied the huge screen at the front of the room. “I suspected as much.”

“Have you fully recovered from the neural interface?”

“I still have a nagging headache, but please don’t tell the doctor. The only reason he agreed to release me is because I convinced him that I was fine.”

“As long as you’re not in danger of injury, I’ll keep your secret.” Seven stepped away from the console and regarded her mentor. “I can’t help but wonder why you didn’t end the interface once you and the alien made contact. You could have continued your meeting while in your normal form, avoiding the pain and lengthy recovery you experienced.”

“I considered it, but decided it wasn’t the best course of action. For one thing, time was short. The neural interface required sedation after it ended, and the potential damage to the ship also increased after about three hours.” She grew thoughtful, her eyes unfocused. “But, even more important, I wanted to be on equal footing with the alien, and it seemed important to stay that way this first time. I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“It does. I’m glad to know that your second contact was successful.”

“So am I, Seven. And I’m anxious to share what I’ve learned of Cavan’s people with Starfleet and the Federation.”

The former drone seemed confused the alien’s name. “His designation was ‘Cavan’?”

Janeway blushed, embarrassed at how personal the human name sounded. “His real name was unpronounceable, so I called him by my cousin’s name.”

“An excellent solution to the problem.”

“It was better than saying, ‘Hey, you.’ Well, I’m going to stop by the bridge before I return to my quarters for some sleep.” She looked up at the huge screen with a wistful expression on her face. “Keep scanning for those sandbars, okay? Maybe someday, I’ll get lucky and we’ll find one or two.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Janeway left astrometrics and made her way back to the bridge where Chakotay had the watch. She took her seat beside him and listened as the bridge crew made their reports, heaving a weary sigh once they were finished.

“Are you feeling okay?” Chakotay whispered, leaning toward her across the command console. “I thought the doctor might insist that you take some more time off.”

“Oh, I’m going to my quarters soon. I think the doctor’s still mad at me for not letting him join me in the holodeck. I’m just here to flesh out the preliminary notes I made while I was in sickbay before I get some sleep.”

He nodded. “I took the opportunity to read your preliminary notes about the photonic alien, and I must say that this particular first contact is going to make a big splash back in the Federation.”

“It was a second contact,” she corrected him with a wink, “but I have to admit that I’m less interested in getting accolades for meeting Cavan’s people than I am about continuing to explore our relationship.”

“I sensed that you felt a common bond with him.”

She looked at her first officer in surprise, amazed, as always, at his uncanny perception of her moods and emotions. “I did connect with him, Chakotay. There we were, complete opposites in most ways, and yet we had so much in common. We’re both explorers looking for new life and civilizations. We’re both loners, in a way, forced by our work to follow a separate path from those we work with. I guess scientists have more in common than we realize.”

“He was also willing to be a friend, and that’s always a good sign. You’ll see him again. I know you too well,” he gave her a wink. “Of course, you may have to ‘create’ the necessary subspace sandbar to do so.”

Her face lit up at his suggestion. “I hadn’t thought of that! Maybe we could find some way to recreate the sandbars!” She stood up, the wheels already turning in her scientific mind as she headed for her ready room. “You have the bridge, Commander.”

Once the captain had gone, Tom Paris turned around in his seat and confronted Chakotay. “I overheard your suggestion, Commander. Create subspace sandbars? We may live to regret that idea.”

“Maybe,” Chakotay agreed with a chuckle, “but the odds are that she would have thought of it herself, sooner or later.”

“But why bother?” Harry Kim piped in from his position at Ops. “Why put so much effort into contacting a species that can do nothing to help us in our search for a way home?”

“We don’t know that they can’t help us, Harry.” Chakotay shook his head slightly. “The captain’s main focus will always be finding the quickest way back to the Alpha Quadrant, but she’s a Starfleet officer first and foremost, and that means she wants to make contact with new life and new civilizations whenever possible, especially those species that are as unique as this one is.” He watched as the younger officers absorbed his explanation and returned to their work, and then his gaze shifted to the ready room door. “And she could use a friend,” he said to himself.

In the ready room, Janeway sat at her desk, cradling her throbbing head in her hands. If the doctor knew how much pain she was experiencing, he would probably put her back in sickbay again. She decided to look over her notes and then go to her quarters for a good night sleep before he got wind of her discomfort. She’d had enough of his pouting and second-guessing in the last few weeks to last a year.

While she was intrigued by Chakotay’s suggestion about creating an artificial sandbar, she was too tired to think about it, still recovering from the physical after-effects of her holodeck interface and still reeling from the unexpected emotional let-down her meeting with Cavan had created. She had enjoyed her hours in Cavan’s company, more than she’d expected possible, and had been charmed by his intelligent and compassionate personality. For the first time in years, she had been able to put aside her position and her duties in favor of getting to know someone new, someone who was simply a friend.

She raised her aching head long enough to retrieve Cavan’s image from the holodeck records and put it on her computer console. Their parting had been too rushed for her liking, and she wished that she could talk to him again and make one last promise.

“Not ‘goodbye,’ Cavan,” she whispered. “‘Until we meet again.'”

The End

This story was written for VAMB’s 2006 Secret Santa Exchange