Story Notes: Fifth in the "Homeward Bound" series, following "Semper Fi."  It is recommended that you read the stories in order.

Many thanks to m.c. moose for all of her assistance.

Time Frame: One month after the conclusion of "Semper Fi."

Carly Johnson quietly tiptoed out of the bedroom where her two-year-old son lay fast asleep. She closed the door behind her and sighed. It had taken several stories until the rambunctious toddler had finally settled down for the night, and she was exhausted.

She'd be glad when Mark returned from his conference. Being a single parent, even temporarily, was not easy. After a full day, she just didn't have the energy to deal with a prolonged bedtime routine. That was usually Mark's responsibility, and he viewed it more as a pleasure than a chore. She made herself a cup of tea, then settled into her favorite chair and turned on the holovid.

"Now for tonight's Commentary, with Elizabeth Ray. Her topic: 'Heroes and Scapegoats'."

"Thank you, Jim. Earlier today, Starfleet announced the conclusion of the 'Equinox Five' court-martial. All of the defendants were found to have violated Article 118 of the Uniform Code of Starfleet Justice, which deals with acts of premeditated murder, intent to commit bodily harm and actions that evince wanton disregard of sentient life." Ray's image on the screen was replaced with shots of each of the defendants: Marla Gilmore, Noah Lessing, James Morrow, Brian Sofin and Angelo Tassoni. "As the details of the crimes committed by the Equinox crew in the Delta Quadrant against the nucleogenic lifeforms are widely known, today's outcome had a sense of inevitability. But some questions persist over whether justice was truly served.

"None of the individuals on trial were major players in the aforementioned crimes. Their sole distinction was that they were the only surviving members of the Equinox crew. None of the five had achieved a rank higher than junior grade lieutenant. Their defense was that they were 'just following orders', a tactic that originated in the 20^th century, in the aftermath of the Second World War and the Nuremberg War Crimes trials.

The onscreen image changed again, to display a picture of Captain Rudy Ransom, and his first officer.

"Ship's policy is dictated by the captain. Ransom died in battle after his deplorable raid on fellow Starfleet vessel Voyager, leaving her vulnerable to attack. If he had survived, there is no question he would be a justifiable target for Starfleet's wrath. The same is true of First Officer Maxwell Burke. They and they alone were the ones who made the decision to cold-bloodedly murder sentient beings. None of the 'Equinox Five' had the authority to do so. They simply carried out the orders of their superior officers, as they and every Starfleet officer are sworn to do. Failure to do so constitutes mutiny.

"It doesn't happen often, but there have been occasions when Starfleet captains have given their crew unpalatable orders, orders which obviously go against Starfleet's dictums, indeed, against the most basic aspects of the Federation's code. There have been examples of ensigns defying direct orders, instead obeying the dictates of their conscience. Usually, acts of this sort are more symbolic than practical. A crewman who defies orders is usually thrown in the brig, although he may be exonerated later on. Starfleet Command is clearly thinking along these lines in dealing with the 'Equinox Five', saying they should have refused to follow orders that they knew were morally wrong.

"However, what's applicable in the Alpha Quadrant is not necessarily true in the Delta Quadrant. It's a well-known story, a lone ship, open and vulnerable to attack, making their way through hostile territory. Home--and Starfleet Command--are 70,000 light years away. Under these circumstances, the captain is the sole voice of authority. There is no other recourse, no appeal to a higher level. There is a better than even chance that the ship will never make it back to the Alpha Quadrant. Is it realistic to expect a crewman to go against his captain in this situation?

"Equinox, unlike Voyager, was a simple science survey craft. They suffered far heavier damages in their encounter with the Caretaker's displacement wave, and didn't have the benefit of hooking up with another vessel and replacing their dead crew, as Voyager did. Despite the fact that Equinox never had any run-ins with the Borg, most people would agree that Voyager was downright lucky compared to the other lost ship. They certainly had an easier time of it."

Ray's voice took on a quality of righteous indignation. "And Kathryn Janeway herself wasn't above changing the rules when it suited her. Both Janeway and Ransom seem to have adopted as their new Prime Directive to get their crews home, no matter what the cost. Maybe Ransom thought he had no other choice but to take the actions he did. What was his crew supposed to do, when he ordered them to comply? This was the man who was responsible for their welfare, who told them he was acting with their best interests at heart. His crew had nowhere else to turn, no other hope of survival. So they followed orders.

"It is impossible to imagine the traumatic experiences the 'Equinox Five' went through in the Delta Quadrant, in a situation that was not entirely their fault. The Starfleet military tribunal, in handing down sentence, made it quite clear that the 'Equinox Five' are also being punished for their crimes against Voyager. But Captain Janeway already dealt with that, stripping them of rank when they were incorporated into her crew. Did Voyager's captain understand the fine line that separates acceptable and unacceptable actions under extreme circumstances? Her own actions and experience would seem to indicate this."

Carly glanced at the screen and nearly spilled her tea. The images of Ransom and Burke were now accompanied by those of Voyager's command team. Although Janeway's picture had appeared in many broadcasts since their return, the juxtaposition here was troubling.

"In terms of punishing the 'Equinox Five', it would have been sufficient to confirm those demotions." A sarcastic note crept into Ray's voice. "Perhaps if the crewmen managed to 'redeem themselves' aboard Voyager, today's outcome would have been different. However, none of the 'Equinox Five' did anything of note afterwards. For better or worse, they were invisible after they joined Voyager's crew. If they had instead managed to turn themselves into heroes, like the Maquis, would--"

"Carly?"

She turned with a start. "Mark! I didn't expect you till tomorrow night."

"Today's session ended early and I wasn't particularly interested in anything on tomorrow's program," he said, dropping his bag and jacket on to the nearest chair. He bent down and gave her a kiss. "I would've been home earlier if there hadn't been a foul-up on the main Eurasian Shuttle line."

"Well, I'm glad to see you, regardless," she said, returning his embrace.

"I don't suppose Benjy is still up?" he asked hopefully, glancing toward the bedroom.

"No, he's not. Fortunately. For me, at least."

Mark grinned. "I'll just go take a peek. I promise, I won't wake him up."

"If you do, he's your problem," Carly answered, but realized he probably didn't hear her. She turned back to the holovid. Ray was still speaking. Carly caught the words "Voyager" and "Prime Directive violations" and hastily shut off the set.

"Don't worry, I didn't disturb him. He's still out for the count," Mark said, coming back into the room. He caught sight of the screen. "Hey, you didn't have to shut it off. What were you watching?"

"Oh, nothing important," she said. "Can I get you something to eat?"

"I'm not really hungry."

"Coffee?"

He nodded. "That'd be great."

She returned a few minutes later to see he'd turned back on the holovid and was frowning. "Here you go," she said, holding out the mug.

He didn't seem to notice. "What a load of crap!"

"Excuse me?"

"Comparing Ransom's actions to Kath's. The man was a cold-blooded murderer who had no regard for anyone other than himself."

Even though she was aware it was a mistake, Carly found herself responding, "That's not what she's saying, Mark. Elizabeth Ray was simply making the point that both ships were in the same situation and as a result both captains were looking out for their crews. She didn't mean to imply that any of Voyager's actions compared in any way to those of the Equinox."

"Kath would never murder sentient life-forms for her own purposes. My God, Carly, do you know what they did to those poor creatures?" He brushed off her attempted interruption. "And then to turn on the ship that offered you aid and protection---it's not the same thing at all! Kath would never stoop so low as murder! She'd die first."

She had never seen him so upset. She put the mug down on the table. "Mark, there's no sense in getting yourself all worked up over this. Ray wasn't drawing parallels between Kathryn and Ransom, not really, just pointing up Starfleet's double standard. Her argument was that while guilty, the 'Equinox Five' shouldn't have been given such harsh sentences, that forced resignations would have been enough. But Starfleet seems intent on some sort of witchhunt---" She stopped suddenly and came to stand in front of her husband. "That's it, isn't it?"

With a visible effort, he calmed himself down. "Kathryn's court-martial is set to begin soon. There are numerous charges, including Prime Directive violations---it doesn't look good."

Members of the Questor Group regularly sat in on Starfleet's Ethics Committee. "Have you heard anything in particular?" she asked, concerned.

He gave a quick shake of his head. "I haven't been included on the advisory panel in this case. Because of my past history with Kathryn."

"But you were involved in the preliminary meetings, shortly before Voyager's return."

"That was different. At that time they were only dealing with generalities. Starfleet hadn't begun going over Voyager's logs so carefully yet, hadn't put every single one of Kathryn's command decisions under a microscope. There was some distant grumbling, but nothing definite. Until now." He fell silent.

"I'm sorry," she said, putting her arms around him, and leaning her cheek against his shoulder.

"So am I." He sighed, then turned to hug her fully. "It just doesn't seem right, after all she's been through, to have to face this."

"I know." After a few moments, he released her. She shut off the holovid and steered the conversation to other topics.

Gretchen Janeway looked around the tiny kitchen and sighed as her gaze fell on the inadequate cooking range, the meager collection of utensils, and the empty cooler unit. Even for someone more domestically inclined than Kathryn, it was clear that preparing an evening meal in this apartment was going to mean using the replicator.

Might as well make the best of it. She ran through the available selections, her distaste mounting. She left the room and went in search of her daughter. "Where do you keep your replicator codes?"

Janeway looked up from the padd she was reading. "Aside from what's loaded into the kitchen unit, you mean? What's wrong with those?"

"There isn't much variety, and what's there isn't very appealing, quite frankly."

Janeway smiled, a rarity these days. "Are you sure it's not just your innate dislike for replicated food speaking, Mom?"

Her mother acknowledged the thrust, but said, "Even as far as replicators go, there's got to be something better."

"Try looking in my personal data files from Voyager," Janeway said, her attention once more on the padd. "You might find something there."

"Hmm." Gretchen called up the files and began scrolling through them. "Pot roast…but the settings don't look right, somehow--I'd imagine the texture would be off…My mother's vegetable biryani? I didn't know you had that…Maybe something lighter--are you in the mood for some soup?"

"That depends. What kind?"

"This mushroom soup looks pretty good." Noticing Janeway's involuntary start, she added, "Unless you'd prefer to go out to eat?"

"Just as long as it's within my prescribed area," Janeway returned with a tight smile that came out as more of a grimace. She held out her arm so that the security bracelet caught the light. "I don't think we'd be able to transport over to Paris for some fine dining without setting off a few alarms."

Gretchen turned away, upset by the sight of the bracelet, a tangible reminder of the fact that Starfleet was treating her daughter as a common criminal. She waited until she was sure her voice was under control again. "Well, then, we'll just have to find someplace local."

Janeway stood up and crossed over to her mother, concern etched on her face. "Hey, it's all right."

"No, it's not. I simply cannot believe that Starfleet is doing this to you, after everything you've been through!" Gretchen retorted, but then sighed. "I'm sorry. I came here to give you some moral support but I'm not doing a very good job, am I?"

"It's all right," Janeway repeated. She attempted a lighter tone. "At least I'm sitting in my own apartment and not a detention cell."

"With a security guard standing on the other side of your door and another one to follow you around whenever you set foot outside. Not to mention that contraption on your wrist."

"At least the limits aren't too limiting, so to speak. I can't go to Indiana, but most of San Francisco is within bounds."

"They have to allow you that," Gretchen answered. "They can't interfere with your case preparations."

"All of that can be done behind a detention force-field as well," Janeway pointed out. "And if I was charged with any Article 118 violations, that's exactly where I'd be right now. Presumption of innocence before trial, or not." She hastened to change the subject, doubtless to avoid causing her mother any further distress. As if that was possible, Gretchen thought. "I spoke with Owen earlier this week. He told me the JAG assigned to my case, Commander Murphy, is one of the better defense attorneys in the department."

Gretchen didn't mention her own conversation with Admiral Paris. "How about experience?" she wanted to know. "Has she handled this sort of case before?"

"He," Janeway said, "And the answer is, not exactly." She went on, somewhat defensively, "The circumstances are a little unusual, Mom."

"True," Gretchen admitted. She then brought up a topic she'd been meaning to ever since she had arrived in San Francisco the day before. "Honey, I wanted to talk to you about having someone besides a JAG officer handling your trial."

"Court-martial," Janeway corrected. "It's not the same thing as a trial in the civilian court system. So I can't imagine having some non-Starfleet attorney is going to do me much good."

"I think you should have one," Gretchen said stubbornly.

"Why?" She looked at her mother questioningly. "What, you don't think a Starfleet defense counsel is good enough?"

"I'm not so sure he's going to necessarily have your best interests at heart."

"Mom, how can you say that?" Janeway said, clearly shocked. "You seem to feel that Starfleet has some sort of vendetta to settle with me."

Those were the same words Gretchen had used with Owen, and he hadn't exactly disabused her of the notion. "Are you sure they don't?"

"While I don't agree with them, Starfleet's actions are understandable. The Board of Inquiry found certain 'irregularities' regarding some of my command decisions. This isn't personal."

"Your faith is touching," Gretchen said dryly. "You don't seem to realize what's at stake here, Kathryn."

"I'm perfectly aware," Janeway said, her mouth tightening. "Besides numerous counts of reckless endangerment, I'm accused of seven separate violations of General Order 001, Starfleet's most cherished tenet. This is not something to take lightly, and believe me, I'm not. But," she paused as if considering how to phrase what she wanted to say, "Once I've had the chance to justify my actions, Starfleet will come around to seeing it my way. They have to. I did what I felt was right. I was convinced of it when the events were occurring, and I'm equally sure of it now." She patted her mother's arm. "Don't worry. It will all work out."

It was good that Kathryn had such a positive attitude, but still…"I'd feel better if you had someone else on your team whose first priority was you."

Janeway sighed. "Fine. I'll consider looking for someone, okay? But in addition to Murphy, not instead of."

"I have someone in mind, actually," Gretchen said.

"Who?"

"Sanford Eiger. You may have heard of him--he's got a large practice in Bloomington--"

"Mom, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I really don't think…" Janeway hastily changed tactics. "I'll try and see if Gerry Cardozo is available. I heard she's involved in the appeals for the imprisoned Maquis, but maybe---"

"Sanford Eiger is not just some small-town lawyer," Gretchen said tartly. "If you'd have let me finish, I was going to say that he's a retired Judge Advocate."

"He's Starfleet?" Janeway asked in surprise.

"He resigned his commission about 20 years ago, but before that he had an extensive 'Fleet career. He retired right before he was due to be promoted to Admiral. I'm not exactly sure why." Gretchen added, "He was a friend of your father's."

"I see." Janeway fell silent for a moment. "All right, I'll give him a call tomorrow morning."

The comm unit signaled just then. Gretchen asked, "Would you like me to get that?"

"No, I'll do it. It's probably Phoebe with her nightly check-in." She crossed to the desk and opened the channel. "Captain Janeway speaking."

"Hello, Kathryn," Admiral Paris said. "How are you doing?"

"About the same as usual."

Paris nodded. "This is the calm before the storm. But I'm sure you'll weather it just fine. If there's anything I can do…"

"Thanks, Owen," she cut in. "I appreciate your concern."

Gretchen thought Kathryn seemed a little ill at ease. Perhaps Owen noticed it, too, as he quickly went on, "Well, I just wanted to see how you are. There's someone else here, by the way, who would like to speak to you." He stepped aside with a smile as another person moved into visual range.

"B'Elanna!" said Janeway, clearly pleased. "When did you and Tom get back?"

"Last night." Torres proceeded to fill her in on the details of their trip to Qo'noS. Voyager's chief engineer hadn't stood trial with the other Maquis; as a Klingon national, her extradition had been requested by the Empire. Her trip through the Klingon judicial system had turned out to be mere formality, however. "So even though the pardon was handed down within a few days, we decided to spend some additional time on the homeworld."

"I take it this was Tom's idea?" Janeway asked, with the air of one who knows the answer.

"He did insist on conducting a 'magical mystery tour', as he called it, of my Klingon heritage," B'Elanna admitted. "For our daughter's sake, of course."

"Of course."

"But I was the one who selected which sites to visit."

"I see." Janeway paused a moment. "With all that traveling, did you have a chance to see Mirel?" she asked, referring to B'Elanna's mother.

It was B'Elanna's turn to hesitate. "Yes. We made a brief stop on Nessik on our way back." Clearly anxious to change the subject, she turned to her husband. "Tom, aren't you going to say hello?"

Gretchen watched as her daughter continued to speak to both of her former officers. She knew that Kathryn had been concerned about several of the reunions of the Voyager crew with their loved ones, particularly that of the Paris family. Gretchen herself had spent time talking with Owen on the subject, at his request. She'd gotten the sense that father and son were still treating each other cautiously, but with time, there was hope for a genuine reconciliation. At this moment, however, Gretchen was more interested in seeing the change wrought in Kathryn by this conversation. As she spoke, and listened, her face had softened. The look in her eyes was one Gretchen hadn't seen since this whole wretched business began. No, even earlier, Gretchen amended--since before the Maquis trial.

After several minutes had gone by, Tom said, "Well, at any rate, that's what we've been up to lately."

"It's been good talking with you, Tom. With both of you."

Tom gave her a thumb's up before he broke the connection. As Janeway turned, Gretchen noticed, to her dismay, that her daughter's face was settling into its dour lines once again.

"Would you like to get something to eat, dear?"

"Fine. Let's go."

As they left the building, the security guard straightened up and prepared to follow. Without turning around Janeway said, "I'm sure Ensign Jarvik doesn't mind the opportunity to stretch his legs."

Janeway reached into the closet and pulled out her dress uniform. The formal uniform had never been her favorite attire, managing to be fussy, stiff and uncomfortable despite the various design changes implemented over the years. Staring at the garment she held in her hand, she thought the latest incarnation might very well be the worst one of all.

The dark gray tunic went on first. The collar was cut uncomfortably high, and the tunic as a whole was severely tailored to the point of constricting movement. Rather like a straitjacket, she thought wryly, remembering descriptions of twentieth century psychiatric institutions. Though Starfleet was convinced she was quite sane, thank you. She had the court-ordered psych evaluation to prove it, even if privately she'd had her doubts at various times over the past seven years.

The trip to the Starfleet counselor's had occurred during her first meeting with her defense counsel. Commander Norbert Murphy, a thin, nervous man with short bristly red hair around a central bald spot, announced the appointment almost immediately after the introductions were made.

"You're late, Captain," he said with a note of disapproval. "You're due to meet with Counselor Akavit in less than half an hour."

Janeway grimaced. "Is this really necessary?"

"Of course it is. It's standard procedure."

A bureaucrat's non-answer was not helping to endear this man to her. "So Starfleet can see if I'm mentally fit to stand trial?"

Murphy also appeared impervious to sarcasm. "Among other things, yes." He went on, "It also lets the defense rule out an insanity plea." He didn't appear to be joking.

Fortunately, Counselor Akavit had turned out to be a no-nonsense individual who went about the evaluation in a very business-like manner. Janeway had encountered numerous counselors during her years in Starfleet, and with few exceptions, had found little use for the profession as a whole. Even though she was the first to admit there had been times in the DQ that she had wished Voyager had a counselor on board. But as in everything else, they'd made do with what they had. Voyager's first officer had ended up serving in that capacity unofficially. Practically every member of the crew had made their way to his office at various times to air their troubles, including the captain. Janeway resolutely pushed down any further thoughts along this line, instead concentrating on the rest of the task at hand.

The black trousers went on next, followed by the boots. Polished till they were as reflective as any mirror, the boots that went with the dress uniform had a higher heel than she was used to and she felt a twinge in her calf muscles when she stood. She drew on the white jacket next, with its padded shoulders and gold braid, and glanced in the mirror. She frowned. I look like a God-damned waiter in this get-up.

Her civilian lawyer had been wearing a crisp white linen suit the first time she met him. "Sanford J. Eiger at your service, ma'am." She detected a faint Southern lilt in his voice.

"Kathryn Janeway," she responded, shaking the hand offered her. "And if you don't mind, I prefer not being called 'ma'am'."

He looked at her as if he found her highly amusing. "Any particular reason, Captain?" She didn't miss the slight stress on the last word. "Or would you rather I called you 'sir'?"

"Captain will do," she said. She studied him in silence, the smooth head of hair, the immaculate gray goatee, the shrewd black eyes strangely at odds with his other features.

Eiger was studying her just as carefully. He smiled. "Yes, you're Edward's daughter all right."

Bringing up her father was not the way to get started on the right foot. Nor did she want to waste precious time on extraneous conversation. "Look, Mr. Eiger--"

"Sanford."

"Mr. Eiger," she stuck to the formal address, "I agreed to meet with you as a favor to my mother. I really don't think--"

He interrupted her again, his manner still mild. "If anything, I think your mother is doing you the favor here, Captain." He paused. "Ever been involved in a court-martial before?"

"Not as a defendant, no." Unable to resist, she added, "Have you?"

He inclined his head, as if acknowledging her thrust. "Just as legal counsel. So, under what circumstances did you get mixed up in this business?"

"I once gave testimony in the case of a superior officer."

"I see." He didn't ask any details. "The view's a bit different when you're in the center seat."

"As in so many other circumstances," she found herself saying.

He nodded. "Exactly. So, now that we've got the preliminaries out of the way, let's go and you can introduce me to your 'official' counsel."

Surprisingly enough, Murphy didn't seem to be upset at having an additional attorney brought in. Janeway would've thought the commander would feel slighted. But perhaps Eiger's reputation preceded him. He greeted Eiger most cordially. "Captain Eiger, sir."

"Retired, Murphy," Eiger said casually. "No need to stand on ceremony. I'm just here to give you a hand."

The two men had promptly begun to discuss her case as if she weren't there. "Many of the command decisions will not bear up under Alpha Quadrant-based scrutiny," Murphy said, his usual frown deepening. "The regulations simply weren't written for many of the situations Voyager found itself in. Even the initial decision to destroy the Caretaker's Array isn't in accord with a straightforward reading of the Prime Directive."

Janeway opened her mouth to protest hotly, but Eiger waved her silent. "I'm sure we'll be able to find a way to work around the regs, Commander. Captain Janeway's defense, of course, is that she did what seemed right to the best of her knowledge at the time."

Murphy tapped his stylus against his teeth, making a clicking noise that Janeway found singularly annoying. "Have you given any thought to some of the charges of cultural interference?"

"It's not interference when an act serves to redirect a society back onto its proper path, is it?"

"The Kirk defense." Murphy definitely looked displeased now. "Granted, there are some similarities, but--"

"It'll all work out just fine," Eiger said firmly. "With a little luck, patience and fortitude."

Eiger's faith was oddly reassuring, as was his comfortable attitude. If for nothing else, Janeway was glad for her mother's insistence. Owen Paris' lips had twitched when he heard of the addition to her defense team, but he had made no further comment. She suspected that he had already discussed it at great length with Gretchen. Damn, she hated people tiptoeing behind her back, doing what was best for her. She was going to make it very clear that she would not be kept out of any further decision-making.

At least the two attorneys seemed to be more or less on the same wavelength, Janeway thought once more, even if Eiger's treatment of all things Starfleet often bordered on disdain. No, not disdain. More like irreverence. Probably had to do with his own truncated 'Fleet career. She idly wondered what that story was, but shook her head. It wasn't important now. At any rate, Murphy seemed to be a much more by-the-book type than Eiger; perhaps the two would balance each other out. If they didn't manage to kill each other first.

Janeway brushed her hair, then pinned it back in a modified version of the bun she'd worn for the first two years of Voyager's mission. She'd noticed it was still popular among female personnel at HQ. None of the freer, looser styles from the DQ years were in evidence. She carefully attached her pips to her collar, and then opened a drawer and removed a large flat box. She hesitated before she lifted the lid, revealing a number of medals and service ribbons.

It had been years since she'd looked at any of these, let alone worn them. She hadn't brought them on board Voyager for what she had thought would be a brief 3-week mission, instead leaving them behind in her apartment. After Voyager had been officially declared missing, its crew dead, Mark and Phoebe had packed up her personal effects and sent them to Indiana. In her one brief visit home before all the trial madness began, Janeway had only given a cursory glance through the boxes, and had almost forgotten that these medals even existed.

Yet here they were. Gretchen had brought them with her to San Francisco. "An excellent idea," both Eiger and Murphy had proclaimed. Eiger had added, "Remind them who it is they're dealing with."

She lifted the largest medal out of the case. It was the Christopher Pike Medal of Valor she'd received after the battle of Wolf 359. A souvenir of her first encounter with the Borg. Two smaller Medals of Commendation followed, for actions during the Cardassian Offensive of 2357-2359, a series of military skirmishes that had never been elevated to the status of a war. The first had been awarded following her and Admiral Paris' capture on Urtea II. She had been a green ensign on her first duty tour, which may have explained why the Cardassians focused their primary 'attentions' on Paris. Fortunately, they had been rescued within a few days by an elite unit of Starfleet Rangers, headed by Lieutenant Justin Tighe. As things turned out, Janeway had been instrumental in saving Justin's life during the course of the rescue. The two of them had become romantically involved almost immediately afterwards. The thought struck her that Justin's own not insubstantial collection of medals was probably packed away in the attic of the Indiana farmhouse as well.

She looked at the second commendation. It had been awarded during a stint of border patrol duty aboard the Kyushu in defense of a Federation outpost. She pinned it on to her jacket as well. There remained two Science and Engineering awards, over which she hesitated, and then added them to the collection. Four multicolored service ribbons rounded out the decorations.

She stepped out into the living room. Gretchen and Phoebe rose at the sight of her. "All set, Kathryn?" her mother asked. Janeway nodded.

Phoebe had a curious expression on her face, almost as if she was trying to decide whether to laugh or cry. "You look like 'the very model of a modern major general.' Or captain." Her eyes ran over Janeway's medals. "Very impressive. Too bad Starfleet doesn't give awards similar to the old 20^th century Purple Hearts--for wounds sustained in the line of duty. God knows you'd have a shuttle full of those to go with your other decorations."

"It's a good thing they don't," interjected Gretchen. "I shudder to think how many you'd have accumulated by now." Perhaps in an attempt to lighten the subject, she went on, "They had a number of awards and medals in the old militaries that there's no equivalent to today. Like marksmanship."

Phoebe regarded her sister thoughtfully. "To listen to some of your crew, not to mention your old Academy buddies, you'd definitely have some of those. Maybe a few scalps as well."

"Now there's an idea," Janeway said, with mock seriousness. "Maybe I should wear some scalps on my uniform."

"It might impress the Admiralty," Phoebe answered.

"On second thought, maybe not. They already think I'm a rogue captain." She quickly added, "Besides, a lot of those admirals look pretty bald to me."

"Ah, so that's what happened," Phoebe nodded knowingly.

Gretchen looked from one to the other and was about to say something when the door signal sounded. Ensign Jarvik stuck his head in. "Captain Janeway, it's time to go."

"Let's get on with it, then," Janeway said. She squared her shoulders and followed the security officer out the door.

Phoebe bit her lip and then took her mother's hand. "Come on, Mom," she said softly, and the two of them left as well.

"What the hell do you mean, we can't enter the trial chamber?" Phoebe was beyond outraged. The mounting tensions of the past week had been getting to her, and she was ready to explode. This Security lackey was as good a target as any.

"No visitors or guests allowed." The guard was not budging from his post, and neither were the other three who were stationed in front of the doors.

Gretchen placed a warning hand on her daughter's arm. Phoebe had the urge to shrug her off, but knew her mother was under as much pressure as she was. And God only knew how Kathryn was managing to stay so calm; she was locked up so completely in her 'captain's mask' that Phoebe wasn't sure what her sister was feeling anymore. With none too good grace, Phoebe allowed her mother to lead her away from the closed door through which Kathryn had disappeared.

When she was sure she'd gotten herself under control once more, Phoebe said, "Well, I guess we may as well head back home to wait. It's bound to drag on for a number of hours before there's anything to report." She sighed. "And we'll be a lot more comfortable there than in this hallway."

"I've got a better idea," Gretchen said, and strode back to where the security guards were standing.

They eyed her warily, clearly expecting another argument. "Sorry, ma'am, but we have our orders."

"I understand," Gretchen said firmly. "But would one of you be so kind as to contact Admiral Paris for me?"

"Admiral Owen Paris?" the shorter guard said, a bit uncertainly.

"I wasn't aware there was another one," Gretchen retorted. "The last I heard, his son was only a lieutenant."

The guards exchanged glances. Just then, there was a slight commotion as several people approached, all of them in uniform. The guards instantly snapped to attention.

"Mrs. Janeway," said the man in front, a polite official smile on his face. Phoebe recognized him as Admiral Jack Hayes, Head of Fleet Operations. "I presume you're here for the court-martial."

"Admiral," Gretchen acknowledged. "Yes, my other daughter and I accompanied Kathryn, but we were told," here she bestowed a withering glance on the guards, "That we were not permitted inside."

The Admiral's expression softened. "I'm sorry, but that is correct. Civilians and other individuals lacking clearance are not permitted to attend military hearings."

Phoebe suddenly wondered if Kathryn's defense lawyer had been allowed in, or if he, too, had been stopped at the door. But considering the man was nowhere to be seen in the hallway, she presumed they had made an exception.

"I see." Gretchen waited. From her attitude it was clear she wasn't going anywhere.

"Lieutenant Douglas, " Hayes turned to his aide standing a few feet away, "Could you see if there is a conference room or other similar area available for Mrs. Janeway and her daughter to wait while the court-martial is in progress?"

The lieutenant tapped his comm badge. Within a few minutes he reported, "Antechamber 17-4 alpha is unoccupied, sir. It's located three floors above this one."

Hayes turned back to Gretchen. "That's the best I can offer you, Mrs. Janeway."

Gretchen nodded graciously. "Thank you, Admiral."

"I'll have someone escort you there. Collaveto!" The short security guard by the door stepped forward. "Please take these ladies up to the 'waiting room' and make sure that they're comfortable."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll make sure you receive regular updates on what's happening." Hayes nodded and then quickly passed into the chamber. Phoebe strained for a glimpse through the open doors, but was unsuccessful.

Collaveto shifted his weight uncomfortably. "If you'll follow me?" With a last lingering glance, they proceeded upstairs.

The chamber was bigger than Janeway had expected, with correspondingly impressive acoustics. Anything louder than a whisper resonated clearly off the walls. The number of tables and chairs in the room led one to think that a large company was expected, but that was not the case. Other than the presiding admirals, the prosecution and the defense, there was no one else present.

Starfleet had been very firm in their insistence that the proceedings not be open to the public. "This court-martial will be conducted with decorum, and according to the regulations. It will not be turned into a media circus of any sort." That terse statement had been issued by Starfleet Command, and despite the protests of "the public's right to know," all reporters were barred from the building. The holocam crews circled like vultures outside.

"And a good thing, too," said Murphy with a disdainful sniff. "The last thing we need is a sensationalized version of events being broadcast. We need to concentrate on the facts of the case without any distractions."

Yes, that was Murphy's attitude in most things, Janeway was beginning to realize. An unswerving dedication to the law, to the exclusion of everything else. She supposed she should be grateful he believed in her innocence; otherwise, she could see him cheerfully (if such a word could be said to apply to him), recommending that she receive the maximum sentence allowed.

"I'm not so sure it's that simple," Eiger said thoughtfully. "We don't operate in a vacuum; there have been cases before where the Admiralty has been 'persuaded' by the political realities of a situation." He fell silent for a moment, then grinned. "Of course, getting involved with the media is like riding a tiger--all you can do is hold on real tight and hope to hell where he takes you is where you want to go."

"These proceedings will now begin." The speaker was Admiral Mazal, a Terran female with jet black hair and striking green eyes, who was the most senior official. Her stern voice was at odds with her open, almost friendly expression, but Janeway wasn't deceived. Eiger had spent some time relaying to her various bits of personal information about each of the presiding figures. Murphy had been impatient about the perceived waste of time, time better spent on going over defense strategies, but Eiger was quite insistent that Janeway know as much as possible about what was ahead of her. She couldn't help wondering how Eiger came by his knowledge. He had been out of Starfleet for over twenty years, yet clearly, he'd kept up his contacts both official and otherwise.

The other two judges took their places as well. Admiral Savlan, a tall, gaunt-looking Vulcan, and Admiral Shaked, a rotund Bolian, were almost physical opposites, although according to Eiger, they were temperamentally much the same. Shaked was said to be extremely reticent, which would make him different than any other Bolian she'd ever known.

Savlan glanced at the defense table, and then over toward the prosecution where Commander Cassandra Barnes and her second waited. Even without Eiger's tutelage, Janeway had heard of Barnes. One of the rising stars of the department, she was reputed to be very close to the Head of the Judge Advocate General's office, Admiral Phillipa Louvois. Many had expected Louvois to be personally involved in Janeway's court-martial--she usually handled the high profile cases herself--yet she had passed it to Barnes. That decision spoke volumes. Janeway recalled her earlier conversation with Phoebe about scalps. The cool, proper prosecutor facing her was reputed to have plenty. And doubtless she was hoping to add Janeway's to her collection.

At a nod from Murphy, Janeway rose and faced the judges. "Captain Kathryn M. Janeway, serial number VE-746-5635-R, you stand accused of five counts of violation of Article 47 of the Uniform Code of Starfleet Justice and seven counts of violation of General Order 001. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty, sir." Janeway's voice was loud and clear and did not falter.

Originally there had been more than 14 counts against her, but they had been gradually whittled down in the pre-trial phase. Article 47--"acting in a manner which needlessly or recklessly endangers the safety or welfare of the crew or vessel"--was a handy statute to have on the books. "Everything they couldn't fit under a Prime Directive violation," Eiger had observed.

No, Starfleet was definitely not happy with her, and if she wasn't careful, she was going to start feeling downright paranoid. "At least they're not charging me for anything that occurred under the influence of mind-control," she'd muttered.

"Starfleet realizes these things happen," Murphy had replied seriously.

Admiral Mazal continued reading from a padd. "An enumeration of the charges is as follows. Article 47: Risking the safety of the ship to retrieve individual crewmembers from hostile alien societies." The rescued crew had been Paris and Kim from a hellhole of an Aquitirian prison when they had been falsely accused of being terrorists, Chakotay from the hands of Seska and the Kazon, and Seven from the Borg.

"Forming an alliance with a known enemy of the Federation." That would be the ill-fated alliance with the Borg against Species 8472.

"Provoking an attack by a known hostile species." The raid on the Borg collective to obtain a transwarp coil.

"You are also charged with losing control of your vessel to hostile forces on more than one occasion." The Kazon, the Nyrians, the Hirogen.

"And finally, deliberate endangerment of senior personnel." Allowing herself as well as Tuvok and Torres to be assimilated by the Borg.

And that was only the first part. "Violations of General Order 001: Destroying the Caretaker's Array. Firing upon the Etanian vessels during their dispute with the Nezu. Allowing the Tau aliens to keep stolen technology. Providing the Hirogen with an optronic data core. Allowing crew to be cloned on the 'Demon' planet and helping the silver-blood lifeform gain sentience. Smuggling telepaths out of Devore space. Reviving the Vaadwar from stasis and giving them the means to unleash destruction on their sector. Captain Janeway, do you understand the charges brought against you?"

"Yes, sir."

Admiral Savlan said, "Captain Barnes, you may call your first witness."

"The prosecution calls Admiral Alyana Necheyev."

Necheyev did not glance in Janeway's direction as she settled herself into the witness stand. Barnes quickly led Necheyev through her initial meeting with Janeway more than 13 years earlier, as a member of the review board following Janeway's first command mission on the Billings. Other than a reprimand over omitting some tactical drills, Janeway had passed her review and been promoted from brevet captain.

"Were you at all involved in Captain Janeway's career afterwards? Did your paths ever cross professionally?" Barnes asked.

"Not until I was promoted to Fleet Admiral in 2370. During that year I was involved in the creation of the Federation-Cardassian Treaty. Late in that year, as the Maquis became an increasingly disruptive force, I began to focus my efforts on the difficulties with maintaining the treaty." Too bad Necheyev and the other Admirals hadn't instead sought to correct the problems inherent in the treaty itself, Janeway thought. Much of the history of the past ten years would have been very different.

"Leading you to assign Voyager to apprehend the Maquis ship Liberty in the Badlands."

"As part of our strategy for containing the Maquis rebellion, yes."

"How did Captain Janeway come to be given this assignment?"

"She had been in command of the Nobel, an Olympic-class vessel, for four years. In 2371, the Nobel was due for extensive refit and the first of the Intrepid-class ships was ready to be commissioned. Based on her prior service record, as well as the recommendations of Admiral Paris, she was given command of Voyager."

"Did Captain Janeway have any other connection to the mission?"

"Voyager's tactical officer and chief of security had been recruited some months earlier to infiltrate the Maquis cell."

"Was Captain Janeway happy about this?"

"No, she wasn't. Nor was she very cooperative. She initially resisted signing the transfer orders for Lieutenant Tuvok."

Janeway kept her expression neutral, although she was writhing inside. The resistance Necheyev spoke of consisted of voicing her objections to a Vulcan tactical officer, with little or no covert operations experience, being assigned to so delicate a mission. Personal considerations hadn't played a major role, nor had any hidden Maquis sympathies.

"But she did sign them," said Barnes, only a slight inflection in her voice indicating she was asking a question.

"Yes, but she insisted on being kept informed of his status while undercover. And when we lost contact with him, she argued to be allowed to go and look for him."

"Wasn't Voyager intended all along to be the vessel sent to apprehend the Maquis cell?"

"Yes, but Captain Janeway insisted on moving up Voyager's launch date out of concern for her crewman's safety. This could have compromised the mission."

Barnes nodded. "Would you say this is typical behavior of Captain Janeway's, to put concern for an individual above a mission?"

Eiger shot a glance at Murphy. The commander pursed his lips together, but did not respond. Eiger sat back with a sigh.

"Concern for crew's lives is one of the hallmarks of a good commander. More important, however, is the ability to view those lives in the context of performing one's duty. Every Starfleet officer takes an oath, stating his willingness to give up his life in pursuit of that duty. The death of an individual, though regrettable, is insignificant when viewed in terms of the success of the mission."

"Is this 'needs of the many' concept explicitly taught in Command School?"

"Yes, it is. It's referred to informally as 'the fatal arithmetic of command,'" Necheyev said quietly. Janeway recalled how Necheyev had referred to her own field experience during their most recent meeting. She studied the Admiral, wondering if all the years since spent behind a desk had enabled Necheyev to forget what it actually felt like to write off lives as a necessity of command.

"To sacrifice lives for the greater good."

"If need be, yes."

"Based on your review of Voyager's logs from the Delta Quadrant, would you say the captain adequately balanced her concern for her crew with her overriding mission?"

"There were numerous instances in which the entire ship's safety was put in jeopardy for the sake of an individual."

"Even though some of the individuals unquestionably were very important to the day-to-day running of the ship? Such as the first officer?"

"That is a perfect example of Captain Janeway's recklessness. Commander Chakotay put himself in danger by attempting to single-handedly capture a dangerous renegade. When, unsurprisingly, he was captured, Captain Janeway risked an additional 140 lives to retrieve him."

"The rescue mission was successful," put in Admiral Mazal. Unlike a civilian trial, the presiding officials in a court-martial would occasionally interrupt the proceedings to ask a question of their own.

Necheyev looked a bit put out at the comment. "At the cost of additional lives. An error compounded when Captain Janeway allowed the ship to be led into a likely trap for the rescue of a child who had only a possible connection to Voyager."

Barnes sought to get the testimony back on track. "Admiral Necheyev, are there any other particular instances where you feel the captain's behavior directly endangered the ship?"

Necheyev pursed her lips. "Just look at any of the numerous encounters Voyager had with the Borg."

"Surely, the captain can't be held responsible for the initial meeting with the Borg, three years into her journey," said Mazal reasonably.

"No, that wasn't what I was referring to. It had long been known that the Borg came from the Delta Quadrant and it was inevitable that their paths would eventually cross Voyager's." Provided another enemy didn't destroy them first, Janeway silently added. "But even that first encounter was not necessarily handled as it should have been."

"Explain, please."

"Voyager had found earlier evidence of Borg activity in the sector, including eyewitness accounts of Borg attacks and even some disabled and damaged drones. A long-range probe returned telemetry pointing to a heavily populated region--all Borg. The only possible route through the territory was held by an even more dangerous group of aliens, Species 8472."

"What do you suggest the captain should have done?" asked Barnes.

"They could have retreated, found a quiet, out-of-the-way planet to settle. Not necessarily permanently--perhaps, given time and the end of the war between the two combatants, the situation would have changed enough to make it feasible to continue the journey."

Janeway shifted restlessly in her seat. To have retreated at that point would have meant an end to the dream of one day getting home. A decision she was not prepared to make then, or ever, despite the odds against them.

"Instead, the captain chose to form a questionable alliance, with one of the Federation's bitterest enemies, in exchange for safe passage. Captain Janeway even developed a powerful new weapon for the Borg, and allowed them to use it to destroy their enemies."

Shaked interjected, "If I may ask a question. Admiral Necheyev, if the captain had simply sat back and allowed the Borg and Species 8472 to battle, isn't it a distinct possibility that the winner could have emerged stronger than either, thereby destabilizing that section of the galaxy even more?"

"Yes," acknowledged Necheyev. "It is also possible that a war would have resulted in weakening both of them. And Captain Janeway was well aware of the directive to try to find a way to defeat the Borg, if at all possible, because of their incursions into the Alpha Quadrant and the damage they wrought there on more than one occasion. A directive whose importance should not need explanation." She gestured toward Janeway. "Even though she was already in the Delta Quadrant for some of the later events, the captain herself saw action during the first Borg attack, at Wolf 359."

"The outcome of the short-lived alliance with the Borg did accomplish what the captain wished, didn't it?" asked Shaked.

"In terms of Voyager's safety in the short-term, yes. But it also enabled the Borg to go on and assimilate other species--Captain Janeway found firsthand evidence of this within the year--as well as earned the enmity of Species 8472 and gave them reason to target the Federation installations within the Alpha Quadrant."

Reckless endangerment, shortsightedness, and Prime Directive violations wrapped up all in one. And Necheyev had just gotten started on Janeway's other transgressions as far as the Borg were concerned.

Barnes' questioning in that vein continued for an additional twenty minutes. When she at last finished, Admiral Mazal looked at the defense table. "Commander Murphy, we will take a brief recess before your cross-examination."

Murphy strode over to where Necheyev was once more seated on the witness stand.

"Admiral Necheyev, the circumstances in which Voyager found itself were pretty unusual, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes. The events which caused the ship to end up in the Delta Quadrant in the first place and the initial difficulties they encountered there are well known." Necheyev seemed to pick her words carefully. "On the one hand, Captain Janeway is to be commended for her heroic efforts and her success in bringing her ship and crew home, more or less intact. The point of this trial however, is that there are issues inherent in Voyager's experiences during the past seven years that run counter to Starfleet principles."

"Is one of those issues the decision to incorporate the former Maquis into the crew?" asked Murphy. At Necheyev's terse nod, he went on, "What was Starfleet's reaction when you first received word that Voyager had survived?"

"It goes without saying that we were pleased to learn that the ship hadn't been destroyed and that many of the crew were still alive. Of course, they were still 60,000 light years away and a realistic view of the situation did not indicate that the ship would manage to return home any time soon."

"But what about the Maquis?" persisted Murphy.

"There was a lot of discussion, then and two years later when Pathfinder established contact at regular intervals," Necheyev said. "Among the general staff, there were equally vocal calls both for and against it. No official declaration was made at the time."

"Because it was viewed as simply a stop-gap measure on the part of the captain."

"Yes. One that would be dealt with it if and when Voyager got home. As it was, ultimately." Necheyev smiled, though it wasn't a pleasant expression. "Since then, may I point out, all of the Maquis officers have been granted full Starfleet commissions. So although there may have been disagreement about some of the captain's more 'unorthodox' decisions, Starfleet is capable of looking at them in an unbiased manner. This court-martial is not about expressing disapproval; it is about proper adherence to the law."

Janeway couldn't believe she was sitting so calmly through this revisionist history. She marveled at Necheyev's hypocrisy as far as the Maquis were concerned, remembering full well how the Admiral had called her on the carpet at the conclusion of the Maquis trial.

"But wouldn't you say, Admiral, that the same flexibility which led Captain Janeway to combine the crews was also necessary in other areas? That individual lives counted for more out in the Delta Quadrant? Looking at it purely from a numbers point of view, new personnel could not simply be acquired as easily."

"I realize that. At the same time, new photon torpedoes and shuttlecraft were also in short supply, as were many other resources in the Delta Quadrant. But the crew managed to find innovative ways of dealing with their shortfall." Perhaps realizing how badly this sounded, Necheyev hastened to add, "Going to such lengths to safeguard members of her crew was a commendable act on the captain's part. However, it was shortsighted when these 'rescues' ended up endangering a greater number."

"The end results were that the crewmembers were rescued successfully and the ship itself managed to get away as well," Murphy pointed out.

Necheyev's lip curled. "Captain Janeway was very fortunate. But it is never a good idea for a captain to depend on luck."

"Some may call it luck, whereas others may see it as a captain relying on her command experience and instincts," Murphy countered. "The same abilities that Starfleet acknowledges as being a necessary component of what makes a good starship captain, and the reason captains are granted a certain amount of discretion in carrying out their missions."

"Provided they do not violate any standard operating protocols," Necheyev said. "Which is why individual captains function within a hierarchy of command."

"But Voyager didn't have that luxury. Physically, they were isolated to such a great extent that they had to rely on the captain's discretion when dealing with hostile aliens. There was no possibility of backup by other vessels, unless they formed temporary alliances with species in the vicinity. Contacting Starfleet command, and having the situation undergo review by a higher level, was not possible."

"The regulations have taken all of this into consideration," Necheyev insisted. "There have been other deep space vessels on extended missions--"

"None at a distance of 70,000 light years," cut in Murphy.

"It's a difference of degree. The principle is the same. In addition, with the establishment of regular communications in the past year, Voyager was no longer isolated--and it is not up to the individual captains under any circumstances to question or disregard basic Starfleet tenets."

Janeway gripped the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. A difference of degree? Try an order of magnitude. She would have given anything, at various times during the past seven years, if she had been able to get the official Starfleet stamp of approval for her actions, even more if she hadn't been forced to make so many basic decisions without any backup whatsoever. She'd been on deep space vessels for missions lasting more than a year, but equating the experience with Voyager's was ludicrous. She wouldn't wish the Delta Quadrant years on her worst enemy, but right now she'd love to have Necheyev find out for herself just how different it was.

"These communications were at 30 day intervals, and for the most part, pre-recorded," Murphy noted. He hastily went on, "At any rate, Admiral, weren't these extenuating circumstances? Can you reasonably expect the same level of compliance to Starfleet regulations so far from any other Federation presence?"

"Even Captain Janeway saw the wisdom in running 'a Starfleet vessel with a Starfleet crew'," said Necheyev. "The captain used that phrase many times, in her reports as well as official logs. If she was sincere, and not just mouthing platitudes, she would be the first to acknowledge that that meant following all of Starfleet's directives, not just the ones she found convenient at the time." For the first time, her eyes met Janeway's, and there was triumph in her look.

Admiral Savlan glanced at the chronometer. "Commander Murphy, do you have anything further you wish to ask?"

Murphy hesitated a moment. "No, sir."

"Then the witness may step down."

As Murphy returned to his seat, Janeway looked at him sharply. "You didn't do anything to refute any of her statements about the Borg and what I should have done differently."

Surprisingly, it was Eiger who answered. "The whole point of Necheyev's testimony wasn't about the Borg. It was to portray you as a loose cannon, who acted on impulse and damn the consequences. Your experiences with the Borg was just one case in point." He grinned sardonically. "But don't worry, I'm sure we'll have an opportunity to go over the entire Borg episode in detail before this is over."

"You are watching a live shot of Voyager's captain leaving Starfleet Headquarters at the end of the first day of her court-martial. Accompanying her are her mother, Gretchen Janeway, widow of the late Admiral Edward Janeway, and her sister Phoebe Janeway, a noted artist. Although the media was not allowed to be present at the proceedings, we have learned that testimony was given today by Fleet Admiral Alyana Necheyev, Captain Janeway's immediate superior. It was Admiral Necheyev who sent Voyager on that fateful mission which led them to the Delta Quadrant.

"Sources at Starfleet indicate that relations between Necheyev and Janeway were quite strained during the recent Maquis trial when it became obvious that Janeway was doing everything she could to win their release. Necheyev's testimony at Janeway's court-martial was originally assumed to be part of an ongoing grudge match stemming from the earlier events; now, it appears that the two officers had difficulties from the outset, primarily due to Janeway's attitude. As the daughter of one Admiral, and the special protégé of another, apparently the captain has long felt justified bending the rules to suit herself.

"Admiral Necheyev's association with Captain Janeway predates this mission, going back to 2365 when Commander Janeway, as Brevet Captain of the Billings, returned from a six month mission in the Beta Quadrant to collect scientific data on microsecond pulsars. Admiral Necheyev was assigned to the review board. Apparently, a review is standard procedure after a commander's first mission, but in this case found ample evidence of wrongdoing. Forty three separate violations of tactical procedures were found, ranging from minor to significant. However, possibly due to the presence of Admirals Paris and Finnegan on the board, both old friends of her father's, these findings did not affect Janeway's rise in rank.

"What is significant about this past history is that, apparently as early as her first command, Captain Janeway did not consider the regulations to be important. Her exact words, taken from a transcript provided by Starfleet Archivist J. Taylor, were: 'By its nature, the captaincy of a ship on a deep-space mission requires flexible discretionary powers. A captain must be able to confront unexpected circumstances and have enough leeway to respond appropriately. Slavish adherence to rules can undermine the very individuality that has made the finest of Starfleet officers so outstanding. If the safety of the ship and crew is not compromised, surely I have the latitude to do as I see fit.'

"Admiral Necheyev's testimony today, we have been told, centered mostly on Captain's Janeway's admittedly reckless behavior, which often resulted in endangering the ship for the sake of one or two individuals with whom the captain had a close personal relationship. In addition, several of Janeway's command decisions regarding the Borg were also mentioned. Necheyev reportedly expressed grave reservations as to Janeway's conduct in these matters.

"The court-martial, expected to last several days, will resume tomorrow morning. This has been a special news report with your correspondent at Starfleet Headquarters, Elizabeth Ray. Now returning you to your regular programming."

Janeway hurried to catch up to Tuvok as he was leaving the trial chamber. He saw her approaching and waited.

"Are you heading to the cafeteria, Tuvok?" she asked.

He nodded. "Although my testimony is completed, I have other business to attend to at Headquarters."

"May I join you?"

"It was my understanding that you would be joining your mother and sister for lunch. Are they not waiting for you elsewhere in the building?"

"No, they're not here. After the first day I was able to persuade them that it didn't make sense for them to sit in an antechamber all day while the proceedings are going on. They're better off waiting at home."

"I see. Then I would appreciate your company."

They headed to the cafeteria and filled up their trays in companionable silence. Once they were seated, Janeway turned to her old friend.

"I'm sorry that you have to be involved in this, Tuvok," she said putting her hand very close to, but not quite touching his. Vulcans, like other touch-telepaths, preferred to limit physical contact. By nature, Janeway was a very tactile person--a "real touchy-feely type" Mark used to tease her--but she had learned to curb the impulse, at least as far as Tuvok was concerned.

"It was expected that I would be called to testify, Captain. As chief of security, I am the logical choice to be questioned on the many security breaches we experienced on board Voyager. It was I who implemented the security protocols."

"At my order," she noted.

"But nonetheless, I was responsible for how they were carried out." He studied his tray, as though fascinated by the arrangement of the various items. "As I was also to blame for the various times the ship was taken over by hostile aliens."

"Tuvok," she admonished, "You were not to blame. Either in your capacity as security or tactical officer." She sighed. "More remarkable than the fact that we were boarded or otherwise overpowered so many times, is that it didn't occur more frequently. Or with more devastating results."

"The results were sufficiently devastating," he said ruefully.

She gave him a look. "If I didn't know you better, Tuvok, I would say you were beating yourself up over this. At no time did I indicate that I was unhappy with your efforts."

"Perhaps you should have. The number of times key systems were compromised, or unauthorized personnel gained access to sensitive areas or equipment, could rightly be viewed as unacceptable."

She attempted a smile. "Well, no one is blaming you, not at this late date."

"But they are blaming you. And I suspect my testimony was not very helpful."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. You testified on the rationale behind my decision to destroy the Caretaker's Array. You helped explain our various dealings with the Borg, especially when it came to reconciling my concern for my crew with putting the ship at risk of assimilation just to steal a transwarp conduit or to save Seven."

"I merely pointed out that leaving Seven in Borg hands would have done greater harm to Earth, in the long run. The Borg Queen explicitly stated that she would be used to help them assimilate humanity. Obtaining a transwarp coil was a calculated risk--perhaps we were not cognizant of how great a risk it was, but the senior staff was in agreement that it was worth the attempt."

"After Necheyev's testimony, it was good for them to see that I actually did strike a blow against the Borg," Janeway said. "Introducing the virus that enabled the drones from Unimatrix Zero retain their individuality should count for something."

"Except that we had to put ourselves in jeopardy in order to do so," he said, referring to their assimilation.

"But it wasn't true assimilation," she said impatiently. "The neural suppressant prevented that."

"Unfortunately, it did not work very well in my case," he reminded her. "And that presented another unforeseen complication."

"We had no way of knowing that your telepathic abilities made you more susceptible to the assimilation process," she said. "And speaking of those abilities, you also pointed out to the prosecution that our smuggling the telepaths from Devore space helped to save members of our own crew."

"I know Commander Murphy and Mr. Eiger are hopeful that factor may persuade the judges to drop the view of our involvement in that episode as a violation of the Prime Directive."

Janeway attempted a smile. "Now if we could only get some of these other charges dropped…" She set down her empty coffee mug. "I do want to apologize to you, Tuvok, for once again keeping you from your family. I know you'd much rather be on Vulcan with them now."

He answered, "I would certainly prefer it to testifying at trials of my commanding officers."

She hadn't forgotten that Tuvok had been called as a witness during the Maquis trial as well. She cast about for another, less painful, topic of conversation. "After all this is over, do you have any long term plans?"

"No, I do not."

"I imagine you'll be getting another assignment soon," she said, a little wistfully.

"If I choose to remain in Starfleet."

"Excuse me?" she asked, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I am considering retiring, and pursuing other avenues." He added, "Even without my initial tour of duty, I have already spent a number of years in Starfleet that is comparable to many officers' entire careers."

"I see." She tried to cover her hurt and sudden sense of abandonment. "I suppose that the years spent in the DQ makes you a little more reluctant to be away from your family again for long periods of time."

"That is a major consideration." Perhaps picking up on her distress, he added, "But I have made no final decisions, as of yet."

"The parade of witnesses continues in the court-martial of Captain Janeway. On the Starfleet side of things, testimony has been given by numerous individuals. The most prominent of these was Admiral Bart Cobum, who spoke at great length how disturbed Starfleet Command was at the realization that Voyager appeared to have given sophisticated technology to a number of Delta Quadrant species, contrary to the dictates of the Prime Directive.

"Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres-Paris, Chief Engineer of Voyager, was due to testify this afternoon on the specifics of the technology transfers, which usually occurred as part of the frequent trading Voyager engaged in to replenish ship's supplies. It seems that the equipment in question ranged from weapons, such as phaser rifles, to an optronic data core, which is the basis of holotechnology. One of our sources indicated that at least some of these transactions were carried out in exchange for Voyager's safe passage through disputed regions of space.

"Technology giveaways are not the worst of Janeway's alleged violations of the Prime Directive, however. According to testimony given earlier in the week by Neelix, a Delta Quadrant native, Captain Janeway resorted to military action on behalf of one alien faction over another on at least one occasion. The specific instance that Neelix referred to was a dispute between the Nezu and the Etanians. Voyager sought to help the Nezu defend themselves from what was thought to be a series of asteroid bombardments, but instead turned out to be attacks by Etanian missiles. At the behest of the Nezu, Voyager opened fire on the lead Etanian vessel.

"In addition to live testimony, the prosecution team, led by Commander Cassandra Barnes, submitted numerous excerpts from the official Voyager logs and reports, as well as several reports Voyager transmitted to Starfleet prior to their return to the Alpha Quadrant. Barnes has also made use of affidavits from individuals who were unable to testify in person, including former Voyager crewmen who have since been reassigned or have resigned from Starfleet. One of the latter is former Commander Chakotay, Voyager's first officer, who resigned his commission almost immediately following the Maquis trial last month. Many of Chakotay's statements to the Review Board after the ship's return have been introduced as evidence.

"These statements are a 'latinum mine of information', according to one person who has read the Commander's testimony, particularly where Captain Janeway's motivations and actions are concerned. A picture is emerging of a brilliant, though frequently erratic captain, who often made questionable choices and decisions, including repeatedly ignoring the advice of her senior staff. Yet somehow, the ship and crew managed to escape mostly unscathed. Perhaps Captain Janeway is gambling that her success--and there is no denying that she did succeed in bringing her ship and crew home--will go a long way toward her exoneration by Starfleet.

"Starfleet Regulation 3, paragraph 12 states that 'in the event of imminent destruction, a captain is authorized to preserve the lives of his crew by any justifiable means.' This regulation has been used by a number of commanders over the course of Starfleet's history in an attempt to excuse themselves from any allegations of wrongdoing. Indeed, Captain Rudy Ransom of the Equinox reportedly used this to justify his crimes against the nucleogenic lifeforms. It will be interesting to see if this will be Captain Janeway's defense as well. This is Elizabeth Ray, reporting to you from Starfleet Headquarters."

As the court-martial reached the end of the first week, Janeway could no longer shake off the nagging sense of dread that had been slowly growing. She had been concentrating very hard on projecting a calm, relaxed demeanor, based in large part on her own belief that everything was going to work out. She had been sincere when she reassured her mother that once Starfleet heard her side of it, once she was able to make them understand, they would rule in her favor. But as the testimony continued, and the sheer weight of evidence began to mount against her, her confidence suffered a blow.

Barnes had done her homework well. It seemed she had an inexhaustible supply of supporting evidence, from departmental reports, logs and other documents from the seven years of Voyager's journey. All of it well-organized and well-cataloged. After the first few days, it was no longer surprising to see Barnes pull out yet another padd and present it to the judges. And then, of course, there was all the material obtained during the initial debriefs after the ship's return. Somehow, Janeway hadn't realized quite how thorough the questioners had been. There was an awful lot of material that on the surface didn't seem quite like it would have come out in a report or debriefing session as a matter of course. And yet, it was all there.

Adding to Janeway's uneasiness was her defense team's behavior. Murphy's nervousness had been evident from the outset; now it was even more pronounced. Eiger outwardly seemed as unflappable as ever, yet occasionally Janeway caught an expression on his face that made her wonder. Almost as if he was worrying about something that he nonetheless didn't consider important enough to bring to her attention. Or at least not yet.

The weekend brought a welcome respite. Naturally, Janeway spent the time with her family. Gretchen and Phoebe had been there from the beginning, of course, but for some reason their constant presence was starting to get to her. Not that she didn't appreciate their support, she hastened to tell herself. But the strain of remaining strong for them, reassuring them that everything would be all right, was getting to be too much.

She'd just spent seven years having to always be strong for her crew, never permitting any cracks to show in the captain's façade. What a relief it would be now to give free reign to her feelings, to be able to voice her fears. If only there was someone that she could turn to, who she didn't have to worry would be hurt by the situation, someone strong enough to help shoulder her burden for a while. But there wasn't. After all her mother and sister had been through since she was swept off to the Delta Quadrant, all the pain they must have endured at thinking her dead---no, she couldn't do this to them now, couldn't make it harder on them than it already was.

As the court-martial reconvened Monday morning, Janeway saw immediately that Barnes had a lot more documentation to submit. As before, the prosecution strategy was to introduce the basis for the charges with actual witness testimony and then buttress it with direct quotes from Voyager's crew and captain.

The topic currently under discussion was how much consideration Janeway had given to the Prime Directive throughout the various first contacts with alien species. Unlike the solemn diplomatic occasions conjured up by the phrase "first contact", complete with the official Starfleet handbook on how to conduct said affairs, first contact in the Delta Quadrant was usually delivered by phaser blast or other weapons fire which was often Voyager's first and only indication that they'd stumbled into someone's territory. Starcharts and other navigational data had often been hard to come by; inadvertently crossing someone's borders was a pretty common occurrence. Sometimes they never even knew the name of the aliens that were shooting at them.

Other first contacts occurred when Voyager would approach a world for the purposes of trading for necessary raw materials and foodstuffs. Deciding what to offer in exchange was often a tricky business, especially considering the fact that Voyager didn't have much to begin with. The best solution, of course, was finding an unclaimed or at least uninhabited planet where they could carry out mining and foraging expeditions without contact with other species. Unfortunately, those were few and far between.

Lost in thought, Janeway wasn't really giving Barnes her full attention until a chance phrase penetrated her reverie.

"And what are we to make of Captain Janeway's seemingly cavalier attitude evinced by the following exchange: When asked by Captain Ransom, 'How many times have you broken the Prime Directive?', Captain Janeway replied, 'Bent it? Plenty. But not broken.'"

Janeway's head snapped up, every nerve on alert. Where had they gotten that from? She had never repeated that conversation to anyone, let alone put it in her official logs or reports on the Equinox incident. Come to think of it, the only place she might possibly have mentioned it was in her personal logs…She started to rise, her mouth open to protest.

Eiger leaned over and whispered, "Kathryn, whatever it is, relax. We'll deal with it later when it's our turn." She continued to ignore him. "Kathryn--" Admiral Mazal was looking at him and if her expression was any indication, she was far from pleased. He hissed, "Captain, sit down."

The frenzied words of her defense counsel finally penetrated her brain. With an effort, Janeway sat back down. Inwardly she was seething.

"Mr. Eiger, do you require a brief recess?" Mazal did not add, "So your client can get herself under control," but the meaning came across loud and clear nonetheless.

Without glancing at Janeway, Eiger said easily, "No, thank you, Admiral, that won't be necessary." Under his breath he mumbled, "Whatever it is, Kathryn, we'll discuss it later."

"Would you mind telling me what that was all about?" Murphy said testily, at the end of the day when the three of them were sitting in his cramped office. "The last thing we need is to--"

"You don't understand," Janeway said tersely. "They accessed my personal logs."

"Who?"

"Starfleet. They must have accessed my personal logs. That conversation with Ransom about the Prime Directive---there is no other way they could have found out about it."

"You're sure no other written record existed?" Eiger asked. When she shook her head, he went on, "And you're absolutely positive no one else overheard you and Ransom?"

"That is a more likely possibility than accusing Starfleet of breaking into private data files," put in Murphy. "Especially considering that your logs were in your possession at all times."

"But they weren't," Janeway said. Both men looked at her questioningly. "When we first docked at McKinley Station, we were told to leave our personal possessions on board and beam straight to HQ. None of us returned to the ship until a day or two later."

"Are you suggesting that Starfleet used that time to search your files, looking for incriminating evidence?" Murphy said incredulously. "The legal ramifications alone are--I can't believe--"

"Stow it, Murphy," Eiger said impatiently. "We both know that they're fully capable of doing so. And from a legal standpoint, they can probably make a pretty good case for having the right to access even personal files. If they felt it was necessary, that is. And obviously they did."

"Meaning they were concerned they didn't have enough to win a conviction without it?" Janeway asked bitterly, thinking of how even at the moment of their triumphant return, Starfleet was already planning for this.

"Not necessarily," Eiger said slowly. "Maybe they wanted some insurance, or maybe they just wanted to get a better sense of what they were dealing with when you returned. After all, you'd been gone for so long, been out of direct contact with the Federation for such an extended period of time. It may not necessarily be due to sinister motives on their part."

"Is that what you honestly believe? That this was reasonable and justifiable behavior on their part?"

"Oh, I wouldn't put it past them. They play to win, Kathryn. Never forget that." He paused, as if some old memories were being stirred up, then shook his head. "The question is, does this change anything?"

"That they invaded my privacy like that? It certainly does!"

"Put your outraged sensibilities aside for the moment, Captain. That little exchange with Ransom isn't terribly damaging, on the face of things. But we've got to know, is there anything in your personal logs that can be used against you? Conduct, interpersonal relationships, state of mind…Something too sensitive to go into the official logs, that you nonetheless put down for yourself?"

She shook her head, unable to think of anything at the moment.

Eiger looked at her intently. "Think, Kathryn. You're going on that stand tomorrow. It's going to be tough enough as it is. We don't want any unpleasant surprises."

As Janeway took the witness stand and glanced up at the judges presiding over her court-martial, she was struck by a sense of déjà vu. For an instant, she almost felt like she was back in Command School, facing a triumvirate of admirals dissecting her performance. Of course, back then the only command decisions being scrutinized had been made during simulations on the holodeck. The consequences were much graver now. And these admirals would be deciding not just her command prowess, but her entire future.

Barnes handed her a padd. "Please read aloud the first marked passage."

Janeway took it and began reading. "'General Order 001: The United Federation of Planets and its representatives will not interfere with the natural development of a society, nor in its internal politics. It will not impinge in any way upon a species' right to self-determination and will seek to avoid causing any instances of cultural contamination.'" The text of the Prime Directive, which every cadet knew by heart. She started to hand the padd back, but Barnes indicated that she should keep it.

"I would like to begin, Captain, with your decision to give holodeck technology to the Hirogen," Barnes said. "How do you reconcile that with the Prime Directive?"

This topic had already been covered thoroughly when Torres had given her testimony. Nevertheless, Janeway calmly replied, "The Hirogen were a warp-capable society. The strictest interpretation of the Prime Directive limits its application to pre-warp cultures."

"Please read the second passage."

"'Cultural contamination includes providing technology, whether actual hardware or the theory behind it, that the society is incapable of producing on its own at that point in its development.'' She looked at Barnes. "We do not have proof that the Hirogen were incapable of producing something comparable to what we gave them."

"When your ship was taken over by the Hirogen, they exhibited particular interest in the holodecks, didn't they?"

Janeway nodded. "The Hirogen leader was interested in applying it to his society's ritual of the hunt."

"The hunt was the single most important of their culture, wasn't it?" asked Barnes. "Defining who they were as a people?"

"Yes. But their leader felt that the continual need to find new prey, and the nomadic lifestyle it imposed as a result, was harming their society. He viewed the holodeck technology as a means of restoring his people to their proper path of development."

Barnes said, "That is one way of looking at it. Another interpretation is that by providing the Hirogen with an optronic data core you were giving away a valuable piece of technology, contrary to the laws of the Federation. You didn't always have such a cavalier attitude in this respect, Captain." She had been facing the presiding admirals during Janeway's previous answer and now turned so that the captain was in her direct line of vision once again. "I refer to the incident that led to the unmasking of the Cardassian spy Seska aboard your vessel. What exactly precipitated this?"

Reluctantly, Janeway answered, "She had attempted to provide the Kazon with a piece of equipment."

"Specifically, what type of equipment was it?"

"A replicator."

"A replicator," repeated Barnes. "For a society that primarily inhabited areas where water and other resources were very scarce. Yet you felt it was important to keep advanced technology from falling into their hands--strongly enough that this was the source of nearly two years worth of animosity and antagonism with the Kazon--yet you had no qualms about giving the Hirogen the means to create holograms?"

"That's not it. The Kazon had no technological developments of their own. Everything they had was taken from the Trabe, the culture they rebelled against and appropriated all their resources and equipment. The Hirogen, on the other hand, wanted to restore their society to its proper path, reverse its stagnation. Given enough time, they would probably have been able to develop a similar system on their own."

"Was this view of their society as stagnant universal among the Hirogen?"

Janeway hesitated. "No. The alpha Hirogen who first brought this up was killed by his second, who disagreed with his decision."

"Yet you gave him the technology anyway."

"That individual was killed during the battle when we retook the ship. I presented the optronic data core to the new leader once a cease-fire had been declared."

"In other words, you gave them the technology to end the hostilities. As a payoff."

"No. Hostilities had already come to a close. But I felt obligated to give them the technology, as a means of rebuilding their society."

"And to leave you and your crew alone," pressed Barnes.

Janeway's lips tightened. "At any rate, at that point the Hirogen had already spent weeks studying our database and had formulated and begun to implement plans to expand the holodecks on Voyager. That certainly would indicate a familiarity with the technology and an ability to reproduce it on their own, even without the data core later we gave them."

"But the Hirogen weren't completely familiar with the system, were they? Didn't they keep some of your crew out of their simulations for the purpose of running the holodecks and expanding the facilities?"

"The Hirogen would eventually have been able to do this on their own," Janeway repeated. "In fact, we later found direct evidence that they were most capable when it came to setting up holoprograms."

She thought of the sentient holograms they'd encountered years later, who'd evolved beyond the original Hirogen programming, enough that they had successfully rebelled against their oppressors. Truth be told, that had brought home to her the enormity of what she'd done by giving holotechnology to the Hirogen, more than the court-martial charges ever could. Ironically, with the exception of the Voyager EMH, Starfleet did not view holograms as sentient beings. They were concerned only with the transfer of valuable technology. Voyager, on the other hand, had encountered enough photonic-based lifeforms to have a different view of the matter.

Barnes continued, "If the Hirogen were able to achieve this, it was because of the head start given them by studying Voyager's systems."

"Surely Captain Janeway isn't at fault for the Hirogen gaining access to the ship to make that study in the first place," said Murphy, appealing to the judges. "It's not as though she invited them on board."

"Once Voyager's shields failed, that would appear to be a foregone conclusion," commented Admiral Savlan dryly.

Barnes quickly shifted gears. "How many times was your ship boarded by hostile aliens, captain?"

"I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"How many times did you lose control of your vessel to hostile forces?"

"Three times," Janeway said quietly. After all these years, she still felt the pain and unfocused rage that she had when the events actually occurred.

"Could you please describe those instances?"

"The Kazon, led by Seska, took over Voyager and stranded all of the crew on Hanon IV. The Nyrians replaced the crew one at a time, securing us on a prison vessel so they could appropriate our ship. The last time was the incident with the Hirogen."

"Those all resulted in losing total control of the ship." Barnes took a sip of water and continued, "But there were the other times Voyager was boarded--by the Vidiians, by the aliens who subjected the crew to scientific experiments, the numerous inspections by the Devore Imperium…and let us not forget the times when individual members of your crew suffered from alien possessions and attempted to commandeer the vessel with various levels of success."

"But each time we were able to get the ship back," Janeway countered. "Considering how badly outnumbered we were, it's a pretty good track record."

"Yes, you did manage get the ship back," agreed Barnes. "To what do you owe your singular good luck in achieving this?"

"We were fortunate that we had exceptional people on board, and here I refer not just to the original Starfleet officers, but the former Maquis as well as some other crew members that joined us during our journey," Janeway answered. "And a solid command structure. Every single person on Voyager contributed to our survival and enabled us to make it home."

"An impressive accomplishment. Surely it wasn't easy."

"No, it wasn't."

"Did the disparate members of the crew really mesh together so quickly and easily?" Barnes asked curiously. "Didn't you ever have any problems with discipline, Captain?"

"Yes, but it was mostly at the beginning of our journey, during the integration period."

"And afterwards? No insubordination, no mutiny, no uprising?"

"Other than Seska, no."

"What about the Maquis?"

Exasperated, Janeway replied, "The one and only time the Maquis were ever an issue was in the past year when the Starfleet datastream was tampered with and a few members of my crew were subjected to a bizarre form of mind control." She watched Barnes carefully to see how she would react. That particular incident, when security measures had been compromised sufficiently to allow a deranged Bajoran vedek to gain access to the transmission, had been a major embarrassment for Starfleet. And it had been followed the next month by an even worse breach which had nearly cost the lives of everyone on Voyager.

Sure enough, Barnes went on hastily, "Did any of the Starfleet personnel ever cause any problems?"

"No."

"How do you deal with insubordination among your crew, Captain? You have had instances in which that occurred, didn't you?"

"There were a few isolated incidents, yes. But nothing major."

"Oh? I refer you to the following events: your chief of security and chief engineer went against your explicit orders to trade for the Sikarian space-folding technology during the first months of your journey, numerous times when former Borg Annika Hansen disobeyed your orders, often to the detriment of the ship, your first officer challenged or undermined your command decisions during your first encounter with the Borg as well as during the Equinox incident--"

"My first officer was simply providing me with alternative courses of action."

"What about countermanding your direct orders, as he did on both of the occasions I just mentioned?"

Janeway took a deep breath and forced herself to remain calm. "He felt my view of the situation was incomplete and as a result, our course of action needed to be modified."

"Which he then went ahead and did on his own. Against your explicit orders."

"That's not quite what happened. He had his reasons--"

"Oh, are you saying your XO was justified in disobeying your orders?"

"That's not what I'm saying--"

"And what about the times other members of your senior staff disobeyed direct orders? Lieutenant Paris attempted to disable the power generators on the Monean waterworld; Ensign Kim defied your orders concerning the Varo generational ship. How do you explain this, Captain?'

Janeway said, heatedly, "Yes, there were a few isolated incidents, but for the most part the crew functioned smoothly as a unit."

"But each time, your crew felt they were right and you were wrong," Barnes pressed. "And they proceeded to act on that assumption."

"These were exceptions, not the norm! In each of the cases you mentioned, reprimands or punishments were meted out afterwards. And there were no further difficulties."

She knew, though, that her words did not have much effect. Barnes had succeeded in painting her as incompetent or arbitrary or worse. The damage had been done.

It was very late. Gretchen put down her book, yawned and stretched. She slowly got off the couch and started for her bedroom. The door off the living room was open, however, and she stopped at the sight of the lone figure standing on the balcony, looking up at the stars.

As she had been every night, Kathryn was out there alone, thinking God knew what. Probably giving in to the fears that she refused to acknowledge by day. Gretchen was not blind; she knew how much her daughter was suffering. But she didn't know how to reach her, didn't know what to say or do that would help.

Kathryn had changed a lot during her time on Voyager, gone from being the emotionally open person Gretchen remembered, into the closed, guarded and often brittle stranger standing before her. The years in the Delta Quadrant had obviously not been kind to Kathryn. Even though she'd heard the official reports, Gretchen could not fathom what had really happened to her daughter. Nor could she understand why Starfleet seemed so intent on punishing her now. All of this combined to put Kathryn under an unbelievable amount of stress.

God knows, Kathryn's life hadn't been easy; there had been plenty of rough spots in the past. Gretchen thought back to some of them. The accident that killed Justin and Edward, devastating away missions and battles, the death of close friends. But somehow, despite the initial period of suffering, Kathryn had managed to come through them more or less intact. When Gretchen had looked into her eyes, she saw the same warm, compassionate, caring person that she'd always known. Kathryn's eyes were hardened now, her face drawn, as if whatever tribulations she'd faced still burned deep beneath the surface.

Kathryn had always been accustomed to a strong support network--parents, sister, friends, lover--but now there seemed to be no one to help her through this. She seemed unwilling to allow anyone to penetrate her defenses. For most of her adult life, Mark had been there, giving her his love and support. But the same wave of energy that swept Kathryn off to the other side of the galaxy had also carried him out of her life forever. Gretchen suspected that losing Mark had been too large a blow for Kathryn to recover from; this had to be at least one of the factors that kept her from letting anyone else get too close to her.

From certain hints she picked up on from her daughter's behavior, the way she spoke about Chakotay and how upset she'd been during his trial, Gretchen had thought maybe he was or had the potential to be that special someone. But she must have been mistaken.

Gretchen sighed. The important thing now was to get through this court-martial. Then perhaps it would be easier to sit down with Kathryn and find out what was really going on.

Commander Barnes said, "Please tell us once more, Captain, why you felt it was necessary to destroy the Caretaker's Array--your only chance for returning to the Alpha Quadrant."

"If we hadn't destroyed it, the Kazon would have been able to access its technology and use it to destroy the Ocampa in an attempt to appropriate their planetary resources."

"Couldn't such an intervention be viewed as a violation of the Prime Directive?"

"On the contrary, such an action was perfectly in line with the Prime Directive," Janeway answered.

"But the Kazon would as a matter of course have been able to access the Array once the Caretaker died. One could argue that if Voyager had never ended up in the Delta Quadrant, the Kazon would have certainly conquered the Ocampa."

"With all due respect, that is not what would have occurred," Janeway said. "The Caretaker meant to prevent the Kazon from accessing the Array. Lieutenant Tuvok and I beamed over to try to persuade the Caretaker to send us back to the Alpha Quadrant. By doing so, we prevented him from setting the destruction sequence himself, as was his original intention. Since we had already intervened, albeit unintentionally, we felt obligated to destroy the Array in order to save the Ocampa."

Admiral Shaked said, "And thereby ensured that Voyager would be a permanent rather than a transitory player in the politics of that sector. Captain Janeway, didn't you consider the implications of your presence in the Delta Quadrant?"

Janeway hesitated, unsure of where this was heading. "I don't understand your question, sir."

"You were reluctant to allow the Array and its advanced technology to fall into Kazon hands, and yet you deliberately allowed Voyager, a lone ship with absolutely no allies and no support, not even any means of communication with Starfleet, to become stranded in the region. Yes, I know that you were confident that you would find another means home, whether a wormhole or through the possible intervention of the Caretaker's mate, but a dispassionate review of the situation would suggest that Voyager was going to be there for a long time. And the odds were not in favor of your survival. Indeed, Voyager was taken over by hostile forces on more than one occasion, allowing advanced Federation technology to fall into other hands. Including the Kazon."

Admiral Savlan added, "By this reasoning, the destruction of the Caretaker's Array would seem to have the opposite effect of what you intended."

Janeway looked from one to the other of the presiding judges. She could feel that they were set against her.

"With all due respect, Admiral," she said. "I made a decision based on the situation at the time. I felt compelled by the immediate Prime Directive considerations to destroy the Array. And I did everything in my power to keep Voyager's technology from falling into alien hands." She swallowed. "Up to and including activating the ship's self-destruct sequence. On more than one occasion."

Mazal nodded. "This has been duly noted." She looked at her fellow admirals. "I think I've heard enough for today. If there are no objections, we will resume tomorrow morning."

Janeway let out a long, shuddering breath. She felt totally drained. She looked up and saw Barnes approach the defense table. "Commander Murphy, do you have a few moments?" As she watched them leave together, she wondered what it was all about.

Murphy put his briefcase down on the table with a resounding thump, but made no move to open it. Janeway waited. Finally, the Commander said, "There's been a new development."

"I take it this has something to do with the fact that you were closeted with Barnes for the past hour," Eiger said mildly. He gave no indication if he resented being excluded from the conference.

Murphy nodded shortly. "The prosecution is willing to offer us a deal."

"Which would be…" prompted Eiger.

"They're willing to drop all charges, including the Prime Directive violations."

Janeway wasn't sure she had heard properly. "Just like that?"

Murphy met her gaze levelly. "In exchange for your resignation." He hastened to add, "There'll be no loss in benefits--you'll receive a full pension, the whole retirement package."

As if that was uppermost on her mind. She opened her mouth to object, but before she could say anything, Murphy went on, "It's either that or face the consequences. Even if you manage to avoid a prison sentence, you're still looking at a major demotion in rank if you're found guilty of any of the charges."

She caught the implication--that no matter what the outcome of her trial was, the chances were she would never command a ship again. Very firmly, Janeway replied, "You can tell Commander Barnes that her offer is refused."

"Captain, you might want to reconsider," Murphy said urgently. "Frankly, you're damn lucky to even be offered a chance to resign. Your back is to the wall--you've got no choice. A quiet resignation, and you can still walk away from all this with something."

"There is no way in hell I am going to do that," Janeway said, her eyes narrowing.

"As your attorney, I strongly urge you to."

Janeway shook her head.

Eiger said quietly, "Interesting that they're offering a deal now, at this point in the court-martial. Either they're not as confident as they appear, or more likely, they want to wrap things up quickly. A fast resolution would certainly benefit all concerned. Regardless, the final decision over whether to accept this deal is the captain's." He turned to her. "If you want to fight it through to the end, then that's what we'll do."

Murphy looked from one to the other, and his displeasure was evident. "I don't think you realize how serious the situation is, either one of you. You don't know what's at stake."

"Oh, I think I do," said Janeway. "Starfleet is hell-bent on punishing me for some command decisions that don't fit their ideas of what a captain is or is not supposed to do. But I know what I did was right. They must know it too, or they wouldn't be so eager for a quiet resolution. You can tell them that threatening to bust me down to ensign isn't going to work."

With a sudden burst of intensity, Murphy said, "The alternative is much worse. They're considering adding an additional charge to the ones you're already facing--Article 118."

"What?"

"'Intent to commit bodily harm that evinces a wanton disregard of life.'"

"I know what it means," Janeway said roughly. "What I don't know is how it's relevant here."

Murphy said, more calmly, "They're going to try you for the attempted murder of Crewman Noah Lessing."

Janeway paled. "You're not serious."

"Unfortunately, I am. The preliminary work has been done--it won't take much for these proceedings to turn into a murder trial."

Janeway looked down at her clenched fists. She forced herself to relax. "That doesn't change anything as far I'm concerned. I'm not going to knuckle under to threats."

Eiger caught her arm. For the first time since she'd met him, his easygoing air was gone. "Back up a moment, Captain. What the hell does Lessing--he was one of the Equinox crew, right?--have to do with you?"

Janeway took a deep breath. Then she told him the whole story--the Equinox crew's sabotage, Ransom's betrayal, how Voyager was left defenseless in the face of attack by the nucleogenic lifeforms. How, desperate to find Ransom's whereabouts, she had threatened to leave Lessing exposed to the aliens.

"You were really going to do it, Kathryn?"

"Yes," she answered shortly. The memory rose of Chakotay pleading with her, trying to dissuade her---and then pulling Lessing to safety despite her orders to the contrary. Many times since then, she had asked herself that question. Would she have let Lessing die? It was not a pleasant thought.

"But it didn't come to that, did it?" She wondered uncomfortably if Eiger had somehow read her mind. He sighed heavily. "I see."

It was quiet for a long moment. Murphy stood with his back to them, facing the window, disapproval written in every line of his stance. Janeway didn't spare him another glance. She focused her whole attention on Eiger. "Well? As my attorney, do you suggest I just give up? Or are you going to help me fight?"

He shook his head sadly. "Yeah, I'll help you see it through. We'll refuse the deal, and go on as we did before. Our basic strategy hasn't changed." He fixed her with a sharp glance. "But I want to know if there are any other skeletons in your closet that will make my job harder. I asked you this before, if I recall. You still sure of that answer?"

"There aren't."

"Well, I'll just have to take your word for it, I suppose."

Janeway felt a faint sense of relief. "Thank you."

Eiger chuckled humorlessly. "Don't thank me yet, Captain. This is far from over."

Tom Paris entered his apartment and smiled when he saw his wife. "Hey there."

B'Elanna glanced up from her computer screen. "How did it go?"

"About as expected," he said, tugging at the opening of his collar. "I went in, told them about the incident with the Moneans, and how Janeway did everything she could to stop me. Including firing on the Delta Flyer." He added, a little sardonically, "That should certainly convince them that the captain believes in upholding the Prime Directive, no matter what. And of course I mentioned how she busted me down to ensign afterwards."

"That's good." She added hastily, "You know that one of the things those p'taks have been saying is that she had no control over the actions of the crew, giving the impression it was a free-for-all."

Tom finished removing his jacket. "Oh, that's much better." He sat down to pull off his boots. "Starfleet's attitude is pretty funny when you consider what a tight ship Janeway really did run. Out in the middle of the Delta Quadrant, for goodness sakes, but Starfleet regs were still God."

B'Elanna pushed her chair away from the desk with a resounding thump. "You can thank Seven for a lot of Starfleet Command's impressions of an 'undisciplined crew'."

"Now, B'Elanna, you're being too harsh," Tom said reasonably. "Most of Seven's infractions were during the first year or so when she was still learning to be human, let alone how to fit into a non-Borg hierarchy."

"I suppose," B'Elanna said, her voice skeptical. She was clearly thinking of all the times the former Borg had usurped her authority in Engineering, as well as elsewhere on the ship.

In an attempt to distract her, Tom said, "I saw Harry for a few minutes. He was set to go in after me."

"How's he doing?"

"Fine. We talked about his next posting. I got the feeling, though, that he's still a little hesitant about serving on the Endeavor."

"Why?"

"Oh, what he'd really like is to go back to Voyager. Assuming, of course, that the ship is recommissioned in the near future, and with the same command crew." Neither one of them voiced the opinion that at the moment fulfilling both of those requirements seemed highly unlikely. Tom then smiled. "I guess you always have a soft spot for your first posting."

"Especially considering everything we went through together." Her voice was wistful. Tom knew that Harry wasn't the only one who'd found a home on Voyager. B'Elanna then went on, briskly, "What in particular is Harry testifying about?"

"Mostly emphasizing Janeway's concern for her crew."

"Well, considering his experiences, that makes sense."

"Celes is supposed to be up after him. Everyone is eager to state for the record how she went the extra mile for all of us at one time or another. Even Harren managed to tear himself away from his brand-new University post long enough to offer to testify."

B'Elanna nodded. "It's good to see how the whole crew is rallying around her. If there was ever a captain who was willing to go to hell and back for her people, it's Janeway."

"And she did just that, on more than one occasion." He reached over and gently tucked an errant strand of hair back from her face. "B'Elanna? Is something bothering you?"

She sighed. "I wish I hadn't been called by the prosecution."

"You were the logical person to talk about some of the tech transfers and the inherent Prime Directive violations. Just like they had Tuvok testify about the security breaches."

"I know that. But I would've liked to talk more about how Janeway looked beyond the surface of 'Maquis rebel' and gave me a chance to show her what I was capable of." She forced a smile. "Well, at least one of her 'reclamation projects' got to speak on her behalf."

"My actual time on the stand was pretty brief. They mostly used my letter to my father--the one I wrote while doing my time in the brig--to fill in the details of the episode."

"I'm still surprised you allowed them to use a piece of personal correspondence as evidence," she said, her frown returning.

"Personal, but not exactly private. They probably would have used it, or something comparable, anyway," he answered. "I told you that Janeway has a strong suspicion that our personal logs were accessed when we first returned."

"P'taks," she muttered again. "Totally without honor." Now it was her turn to change the subject. "So if your testimony went pretty quickly, how come you were gone for so long?"

"I had lunch with my father, actually."

"Really," she said and waited for him to elaborate.

"I was in HQ anyway." He shrugged. "Dad wanted to know if I'd decided yet what I'm going to be doing."

"What did you tell him?"

"That in addition to an assignment as con officer onboard a starship, I've also received some other offers from the private sector, including the one from the experimental aviation company from my friend in Australia."

"Did you tell him about Starfleet's offer to both of us to continue working on developing the new drive system we had on Voyager?"

"That was the first thing I mentioned. But I told him we hadn't ruled anything out yet."

She nodded. Without saying it out loud, they were both waiting for the conclusion of Janeway's court-martial before making any decisions.

"So it sounds like you had a nice time with your father, all in all."

"Yeah. I guess we're getting there, eventually," he said thoughtfully. "This was one of the few times it was just the two of us, without Mom or you or anyone else around to act as buffer." He ran his hand through his hair. "Actually, we spent most of the time talking about the captain. He's really worried about her. Not that I'm surprised. After all, he was her superior officer and mentor for so many years."

"Yes, it seems like they have a very special relationship."

Something in B'Elanna's voice made him look up. "Meaning what?"

"Just that the two of them have always been very close," she said neutrally. "And he's always taken a very active interest in her career."

"Are you saying that you think Janeway and my father…" He said incredulously.

"It's not outside the realm of possibility, Tom." Hastily, she added, "I don't mean now, more like many years ago. Whatever. It's not important."

"I never really thought too much about it before," he said slowly. "It was always like she was the idealized offspring, his golden girl. And in contrast, I was the screw-up who never would amount to much." He grinned suddenly. "On the other hand, she is one hell of a lady. Imagine what she was like 20 years ago."

"I'm probably reading too much into it," B'Elanna said. "At any rate, it's good to know she's not alone. Kahless knows, she needs all the support she can get."

"Is that true, I wonder? That she's not alone, I mean." He looked at her. "Where the hell is Chakotay?"

A note of wariness crept into her voice. "He's on Dorvan, helping to rebuild the colony. I told you when I got his letter."

He waved his hand dismissively. "I know that. But why isn't he here now? When he was on trial she did absolutely everything she could do to secure his release. Now she's the one in trouble and he's nowhere to be found. This isn't right."

"I think there's more to the story than we realize, Tom. You know that the relationship between the two of them wasn't one that was easy for outside observers to understand or even define."

He sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if the two of them really understood it themselves."

She nodded and moved to put her arms around him. "I'm worried about her, too."

"I know."

"Did your father say anything about how he thought it was going to go?"

Tom shook his head. "He said it was impossible to tell. Both sides have been bringing up pretty compelling arguments, but in the end, it's up to the judges to decide."

Admiral Mazal banged her gavel. "We have now concluded the testimony phase in this court-martial. Before my colleagues and I adjourn to begin deliberating what we have heard, the defendant has the right under the Code of Justice, chapter 4, article 12, to make a statement. Captain Janeway, do you wish to avail yourself of this right?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"You may proceed."

Janeway walked slowly to the witness stand, then turned so she was facing the three Admirals. "Every newly commissioned member of Starfleet, whether officer or enlisted crew, takes an oath of duty prior to beginning service. We swear to uphold the ideals and interests of the Federation, to unswervingly obey the orders of a superior officer, and to not put our own interests as individuals ahead of the pursuit of that duty. To be willing to give our lives, if need be, in the service of Starfleet.

"Starfleet's primary role is exploration, 'To seek out new life and new civilizations, and to boldly go where no one has gone before.' Seven years ago, I accepted a mission to go to the Badlands and apprehend a Maquis vessel. It is foolish to refer to any mission as 'routine', as there is always an element of the unknown involved. I had no way of knowing exactly what the mission would entail, but as with any other assignment, I studied the possible scenarios and attempted to limit the unknown variables as much as possible. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I imagine how this mission would end up. From the instant we first encountered the Caretaker's energy wave, the number of unknowns multiplied exponentially. Once we found ourselves in the Delta Quadrant, I was immediately faced with a series of unpalatable choices. This proved to be the norm for the next several years.

"In each case, I always tried to make the best possible decisions, in the interests of duty, in keeping my crew and ship together. I tried to ensure our survival, but at the same time, hold fast to the ideals of the Federation. My primary mission, as I saw it, was to get back home. But as an essential part of our journey, we also set out to explore the Delta Quadrant, to map the unknown star systems and celestial phenomena, to make peaceful First Contact with new species--all in keeping with the Starfleet credo of exploration.

"No other ship or crew in the history of Starfleet has ever found themselves in the same set of circumstances that we were in. The odds against our survival were overwhelming, and there were many times that our prospects looked very bleak. And even if we did manage to avoid destruction at the hands of hostile aliens, from lack of food or resources, from the normal breakdown that ordinary time and experience cause in a ship's systems, the fact is that we were still a very long way from home. Barring any unforeseen developments, it would take us 70 years to return.

"I was blessed with an exceptional crew, with innovative and courageous personnel, who threw themselves whole-heartedly into our mission. A captain cannot succeed alone, and is only as good as the people serving under her. I can honestly say it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to have accomplished what I did without them.

"At all times, I always tried to live up to all of the expectations placed upon me--by the Federation, by Starfleet, by my crew and by my own standards. I always strove to conduct myself as a proper Starfleet officer.

"I have served this organization for many years. I started as an 18-year old cadet, proceeded through the Academy and then a graduate studies program to receive a doctorate in quantum cosmology. My first posting as an ensign was in the science track. I later switched to Command, and have since advanced through the ranks to my current standing as a Fleet Captain. I have participated in many missions over the years, some of an exploratory nature, others military. I have seen amazing scientific discoveries and phenomena, and I have fought in many battles. I have been fortunate to command three outstanding vessels and their crews: the Billings, the Nobel and Voyager. Along the way, I have been privileged to encounter many great personalities, among my peers and my superior officers, and most of all, among the crews that I have commanded. Throughout my career, I have experienced many things that have all gone into the making of the officer I am today and who stands before you now.

"I have never claimed to be perfect, never claimed to have not made mistakes. One thing I do claim, however, is to have always done my absolute best, whether in the Delta Quadrant or the Alpha Quadrant, in the past, present or future. I believe in the Starfleet credo, in its ideals, with every fiber of my being. I have sacrificed a great deal for Starfleet, given everything I have." Her voice caught slightly. "I have given this organization the best years of my life."

She took a breath and then finished, "It is my hope that the military tribunal recognizes my service for what it was."

Admiral Mazal banged her gavel once more. It had a note of finality. "This hearing is now adjourned, pending the announcement of a verdict."

"This is Elizabeth Ray, reporting to you live from outside of Starfleet Headquarters. The testimony phase is over in the Janeway court-martial. At this moment, the presiding admirals are deliberating the captain's fate. The defense did not swerve from their predicted strategy of claiming extenuating circumstances to justify the command decisions. The Prime Directive questions are much trickier--legal scholars do not all agree on the finer nuances of General Order 001 and exactly how they can be interpreted.

"There is an unconfirmed report that midway through the trial, Janeway was offered a deal and refused it. Sources at Starfleet state that the captain was given the choice of resigning from the service, in exchange for all charges being dropped. If found guilty, at the very least Janeway is looking at demotion and possibly imprisonment. Janeway's willingness to take her chances with a verdict can be taken as a sign that she is convinced she occupies the moral high ground.

"During the past week, we managed to interview a number of Captain Janeway's peers. Those willing to speak for the record espoused varying attitudes. There was a general agreement that a captain must uphold the Prime Directive at all costs. As far as some of the lesser charges, reactions ranged from support for Janeway to disapproval. None of the field commanders, however, were willing to express outright condemnation of her actions.

"Captain William Riker of the Enterprise went on record as saying firmly that a captain's duty is to his ship and crew and Janeway executed that flawlessly--'How many other captains would have gotten their crews home?' he said. Of course, Riker spent much of his career serving under Jean-Luc Picard, another captain known for frequently taking matters into his own hands.

"Starfleet watchers agree that the outcome of the Janeway court-martial has ramifications beyond the career of a single officer. During the last decade, Starfleet Command has undergone a number of changes, not all of them welcome. Although they still publicly proclaim that Starfleet is not a military organization, the truth is that the 'kinder, gentler' image of the past is rapidly being supplanted. Perhaps this is an inevitable change because of some of the threats the Federation has faced---the Borg, the devastation of the Dominion War. During the recent war, many questionable activities were heartily endorsed by the Admiralty, some of which make Janeway's alleged violations in the Delta Quadrant pale in comparison. Allegations of Starfleet misdeeds include interference with the ruling power bloc of the Klingon Empire, as well as the incident which led to the Romulan Star Empire changing their official position from neutral to an ally of the Federation.

"Going back to the matter at hand, the decision to proceed with Janeway's court-martial, one must ask if this is a case of Starfleet repudiating the recent past when honorable men and women were forced into not-so-honorable actions in the name of survival. Or is Starfleet sending a very different message, that the age of flexibility and faith in human nature is truly over, and rigidity and harshness are the new order of the day? When Voyager returned six months ago, they were hailed as heroes. Do we as a society have room for heroes anymore? And do we still react with shock upon learning that our heroes have feet of clay?"

Slowly and methodically, Janeway removed her medals and placed them in their case. She stripped off her uniform and shoved it in the fresher. Then she set the shower controls and stepped inside.

The water was very hot. It poured over her in waves, its warmth oddly soothing. Her skin started turning red in response, but she didn't care. Slowly, the knot inside her began to loosen.

It was over. All except the conclusion, of course. But her part was finished. All she could do now was wait.

The threatened prosecution for attempted murder hadn't materialized. She wondered dully if it was because the prosecution was satisfied that they already won. She knew if she was found guilty of any of the Prime Directive violations, her career was over. Being drummed out of the service would only be the beginning, of course--she was also likely facing a lengthy term of imprisonment. An additional criminal conviction seemed almost superfluous.

On the other hand, if she was found innocent, Eiger didn't think she had to worry about a belated indictment. It was his opinion that Starfleet would likely want to put the whole episode behind them as quickly as possible. She found that she wasn't particularly interested either way.

When had she reached this point? Maybe it was when she realized that Starfleet, the organization she'd devoted her entire life to, for which she'd given up every chance at personal happiness she'd ever known, had turned on her so cruelly. When she'd discovered that they would stop at nothing, break their own rules and platitudes about truth and fair play…all to punish her for her perceived transgressions.

She thought again about the years in the Delta Quadrant, the day-to-day struggle for survival, the underlying yearning for home. The day they'd first heard from the Alpha Quadrant and she'd realized that there was no going back, not really, not to what they'd left behind. That the people they'd loved had mourned, and then gone on. But at least she'd still had her captaincy, and her crew. And when they did return, surely all her loyalty and sacrifice would be acknowledged.

That was just one more thing that hadn't worked out the way she thought.

She sagged against the wall, feeling the sobs building up. She no longer had the strength to fight; she no longer knew why she had to fight any more.

Once that had been an automatic posture, something necessary for survival. Life on Voyager had often been difficult. But as she thought of the ship, she realized it hadn't all been bad. There had been a certain camaraderie, and a sense of purpose that imbued those days. The constant challenges had been stimulating, in a way, and carried in their wake the satisfaction of beating the odds. With a sudden sense of loss she realized, that even if by some miracle she was given another command, it would never compare to Voyager and what they'd had there. As strange as it seemed, those had truly been the best years of her life.

As if that thought had broken through her last remaining defenses, her legs buckled and she slid onto the floor, the tears streaming down her face and mingling with the water cascading overhead until she scarcely knew where one ended and the other began.

Gretchen sat in the antechamber, trying to conceal her rising impatience. She thought she was doing a pretty good job of it, till she noticed her foot tapping. She sternly controlled the errant movement and glanced once more at the wall-mounted chronometer.

Half an hour. That's how long it had been since they'd announced a verdict had been reached. What was taking so long now? Why hadn't she been told anything yet?

Phoebe had gone out a few minutes earlier to make a call . She came rushing back into the room just then. "Mom! She did it! Kathryn's been cleared of all charges!"

"She's been acquitted? Oh, thank God," breathed Gretchen. "Where is she now?"

Her question was answered instantly, as the door opened again and Janeway came striding in. She caught her mother and sister in a tight embrace. "It's over. It's finally over."

Gretchen wiped her streaming eyes and searched her daughter's face anxiously. "Are you all right, dear?"

"I'm fine," Janeway said briefly and looked away. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

"Yes," answered Phoebe emphatically.

"Then let's go."

Gretchen was surprised, and not very pleased, to see Ensign Jarvik waiting for them in the corridor. "Surely Starfleet isn't insisting on a security accompaniment anymore."

"No, ma'am," Jarvik said apologetically. "There's, uh, a bit of a crowd waiting for the captain outside. We're here to clear a path for you, nothing more."

Gretchen's eyes darted to her older daughter's wrist. The ever-present bracelet was gone. She smiled. "I'm glad to see you making yourself useful for once, Ensign."

"Let's go," Janeway urged again, and the three of them followed Jarvik down the main concourse toward the exit.

Despite Jarvik's warning about a "crowd", Gretchen was taken aback by the mass of people lying in wait for them. There were almost as many media types present as there had been on the day of Voyager's return.

As soon as Janeway was spotted, a roar rose from the crowd. It surged forward, only to be stopped by a force barrier. A cacophony of voices rang out, shouting questions.

"Captain Janeway, how do you feel now that the court-martial is over?"

"Captain Janeway, do you feel resentful that Starfleet brought you up on charges?

"Captain Janeway, you've just been acquitted--what will you do now?"

"Tell them you're going to the Disney Planet!" Startled, Gretchen noticed Tom Paris standing off to the side, near the security perimeter. He flashed her an irreverent grin.

Everyone within earshot broke into loud guffaws. Almost everyone, that is. Gretchen glanced at Kathryn and saw that although her lips twitched, her face was still set in the stern expression it had worn throughout the ordeal.

Suddenly Janeway stiffened. Standing between them and the exit were Admirals Hayes and Necheyev.

Necheyev stepped forward, holding out her hand. "Well, Captain, I know I speak for Admiral Hayes and every other member of the General Staff when I tell you how pleased I am that your court-martial has concluded on a positive note. You proved your strong commitment to Starfleet and the ideals of the Federation. I know it wasn't easy, but you have done us all proud."

Janeway paused, looking at the outstretched hand. Her gaze then traveled to Necheyev's face. There were many things in that look, chief among them disbelief. And anger. In full view of the holocameras which were recording every last detail, Captain Kathryn Janeway brushed past her superior officer, and past the Head of Fleet Operations, without saying a word.

Gretchen and Phoebe exchanged glances before hurrying to catch up with her.

"Don't blame the Admiralty, Kathryn. They did what they felt was best."

"I'm not blaming them," Janeway said carefully. "They acted according their principles, and did what they had to do. As did I."

"Speaking of which, I'm not saying you weren't justified, but--ignoring Necheyev like that, in front of the media, was not a very good idea." Owen Paris sighed. "You made her look foolish, and she's never going to forget that."

Janeway leaned forward from her seat on the couch. They were sitting in his study in the Paris home. Not quite the appropriate setting for this conversation, but he'd understood her reluctance to meet at HQ. "No, I made her look irrelevant."

"Equally unforgivable. In fact, some might consider it even worse."

"Probably."

The Admiral seemed bothered by her casual acceptance. "Pissing off one's commanding officer is never a good idea, Kathryn. You should know that."

"Oh, I learned that lesson a long time ago," she said, picking up her coffee mug once again. "But in all honesty, I was already on Necheyev's shit list."

"Because of the Maquis," he acknowledged.

"Because I fought so hard for my Maquis crewmembers, but there were other things as well." She forced a smile. "Necheyev told me I had betrayed my oath as a Starfleet officer. She's probably very disappointed at the way things turned out."

"Not necessarily," he said thoughtfully. "She may not like you, Kathryn, but she recognizes a capable starship commander when she sees one. You were one of her best--that's why she gave you Voyager and sent you to the Badlands in the first place."

Janeway shrugged. "A move she's probably regretted many times since then."

He caught her gaze in his. "The question is, do you have any regrets?"

She rose and went to the window. Without turning she said quietly, "Yes, I have a few regrets."

"Things you'd do differently if you had the chance?"

"I wasn't thinking of command decisions, Owen. No…" she hesitated. "A little more sweeping than that. Basically the direction my life has gone in, what if anything I've gained from it all. What I've given up."

She knew he didn't grasp her meaning. He undoubtedly thought he did, but he couldn't possibly know. He was silent for a few moments. "Well, you'll know soon enough if you've managed to put yourself deeper into a hole when you get your new orders in a couple of weeks. "

She swung around. "I'm not going to be getting any new assignment from Starfleet, Owen." She took a deep breath. "I tendered my resignation this morning."

"What?" he said, clearly not believing he'd heard correctly. "Kathryn, how could you resign?"

"It wasn't that difficult, actually."

"But you've spent so many years in Starfleet! Practically your whole life!"

"Exactly. It's been my whole life, but is this the way I really want to live?" She brushed off his attempted interruption. "Owen, I've spent the past 30 years devoting myself body and soul to Starfleet. Everything else got pushed by the wayside, family, friends, a chance for a normal existence…the kinds of things that ordinary people take for granted. Everything I've ever had, I've sacrificed for Starfleet. And where has it gotten me?"

He shook his head sadly. "I know what it's cost you, Kathryn. Believe me, I know. I was there when you met Justin and fell in love with him. I was also there when you lost him. And I know you were happy with Mark and lost him when you ended up in the Delta Quadrant. But you can't entirely blame Starfleet for that. Sometimes life just doesn't work out the way we planned."

At least he hadn't brought up her father. She said, impatiently, "You don't understand, Owen. You've had the best of both worlds, a career and a family. But that's a rarity among Starfleet officers, especially those that go for command. The ship can be a harsh and jealous mistress, demanding everything you've got to give but still never satisfied. When you're on a mission, there's no room for anything else." She forestalled his objection, "Oh, I know that the isolation isn't total--there are leaves and times away from the ship to remind you of who you are, to let you feel human again."

She paused, maybe for breath, maybe to control the tears that were starting to threaten. "I accepted that lifestyle, agreed to the Faustian bargain. I sold my soul, and you know what? It was almost worth it. Until the Caretaker intervened. Then all bets were off." Her voice rose in intensity. "We were on the other side of the galaxy, for God's sake, under almost constant attack. Sometimes I don't know how we made it through those first few years. And then when things were starting to settle down, we encountered the Borg. The only way I knew how to hold it together, was to be more Starfleet than Starfleet. I was so worried about failing, so afraid I wasn't going to be strong enough to keep the ship and the crew safe. And always, always, we were trying to get home. Do you know what it's like to be living under that kind of pressure? And with no one to turn to?"

"I don't know anyone else who could have done it, Kathryn," he said gently.

She drew her hand over the back of her eyes. "And then to come back to all this…this isn't what I sacrificed for, all those years. " She bowed her head, fighting to regain her control, and then looked him full in the eye. "Can you honestly tell me I'm wrong, can you honestly tell me I don't deserve a chance to make a life for myself finally, for a chance to be happy?"

He shook his head. "No, no, I can't tell you that," he said, his own unhappiness still apparent. "But Kathryn, if you walk away from Starfleet now, where will you go, what will you do?"

She smiled then, through her tears. "As someone once said, there are always possibilities."

The sky was paling in the east, but the stars could still be seen overhead. Everything was perfectly still. No bird broke the silence. Even the wind had died down to a mere whisper. Chakotay breathed deeply of the cool dry air, and then settled himself near the overhang of rock. The craggy surface had weathered many years and many catastrophic events, both natural and man-made. Fortunately, the Cardassian attack on Dorvan had left it relatively intact, perhaps because it was so far away from the villages. This particular canyon, in the literal middle of nowhere, had special significance for him these days, as it was one of the few things that had remained the way he remembered it.

He took out his medicine bundle, cleared his mind and began to meditate. Overhead, the stars slowly faded and the sky became streaked with pink. As it always did at dawn, the wind began to rise until it whistled through the Singing Cliffs overhead. At the familiar sound, Chakotay's eyes opened and he smiled. It was the beginning of another day.

He rose smoothly to his feet, feeling refreshed and at peace. This was a feeling he treasured, knowing how hard it was to come by. Even now, some days were better than others. He lingered a few moments longer, then made his way back to the ground car, and the long drive home.

The settlement consisted of a handful of structures, mostly constructed out of Federation-surplus prefab units. Not unlike the shelter he had lived in for 3 months on a planet in the Delta Quadrant. Traditionally, Chakotay's people built their dwellings from the native stone, but that was not possible now. The Cardassians had been thorough in their destruction. Not only had the buildings and people been obliterated, but the soil had been blasted, left completely sterile. Not even the microorganisms several meters below the surface had been spared. The stones themselves were fused into gnarled and twisted shapes.

To the casual onlooker, the rebuilding efforts of more than a year had little to show for themselves. But Chakotay knew that the mere presence of the settlers was a major accomplishment. They numbered fewer than a hundred, where before there had been thousands, but they were here to stay. Despite the primitive living conditions and the backbreaking labor, despite the need to import materials, tools, seeds, even the simplest organisms essential to a healthy ecosystem, they were slowly recreating what they'd once had. Chakotay felt a surge of pride for his people who refused to accept defeat.

He left the car on the outskirts of the settlement, and made his way down the main street. As he passed by one dwelling unit, the door opened, and a voice called out, "There you are, Chakotay!"

Chakotay smiled at the old man who emerged. "Good morning, Asanti."

"A fine morning in every respect," Asanti answered. He stretched and then sighed with contentment. "Have you broken your fast yet?"

"Not yet," Chakotay said.

"I was just heading over to the Daymeal." He looked at Chakotay expectantly.

"Then I'll join you," Chakotay replied and resumed walking. After a few paces he stopped, suddenly aware that Asanti hadn't budged. "Aren't you coming?"

"You may wish to make another stop first." The old man smiled. "There is a personal transmission waiting for you at the Center."

Chakotay hesitated. In the time he'd been on Dorvan, he'd received only one other message. That had been from Gerry Cardozo, telling him she'd begun working on the Maquis appeal. She had made it quite clear, however, that she was merely keeping him informed, not requesting his help. There was no need for him to come rushing back to Earth. Chakotay had had mixed feelings about that, but when he considered the situation objectively, he knew he was accomplishing more at the moment with his presence on Dorvan. This new message was most likely another update on the situation.

Asanti shook his head in mock exasperation at Chakotay's indecision. "Go, go…I'll save you a seat."

"This won't take long," Chakotay said, and headed toward the administrative center.

The young woman behind the only desk looked up as he entered. "Chakotay, I was just going to send someone to get you. You've received a transmission."

"Yes, Nava, Asanti told me," he answered.

She handed him a datachip. "Text only." She indicated the reader on the side table.

He thanked her, inserted the chip and viewed the message. To his surprise it was from Tom Paris. And it was very short:

"Where the hell are you?"

Just those five words, nothing more. His confusion growing, he turned to Nava. "Are you sure this is the entire message?"

"That's all that came through," she told him. She forestalled his next comment, "And no, there was no indication the transmission was cut off in any way." She gave him a curious glance.

He stood there for a few more moments holding the chip in his hand. What could Paris possibly mean? He obviously knew where Chakotay was. Other than the fact the message had been sent to Dorvan, B'Elanna had undoubtedly told her husband of Chakotay's plans.

A sudden inspiration hit. Chakotay went back to Nava's desk. "Have there been any subspace news packets from the Federation recently?"

"The last one came about two or three weeks ago." She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not sure how recent the news is."

"Can I see it, please?"

She sighed, and then got up from behind the desk. "Here, use my terminal."

"Sorry to kick you out," he said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it," Nava said. "I'm going to the Daymeal, If anyone comes by, tell them I'll be back in about half an hour."

He nodded, already intent in his reading.

After the first few items, he began to scroll through impatiently. There were a lot of news stories of major importance to the Federation, but none of them had any relevance to him. He was just about to switch off the screen when a small item near the bottom caught his eye.

"The court-martial of Captain Kathryn Janeway, former commander of the starship Voyager, began yesterday. Captain Janeway, whose ship was lost in the Delta Quadrant for seven years, is being charged with numerous offenses, the most serious dealing with violations of the Prime Directive, Starfleet's most cherished tenet."

Chakotay felt the sweat begin to bead on his forehead, and knew it had nothing to do with the heat of the day. Kathryn was being court-martialed? He checked the date of the report. It was nearly a month old. The trial was most likely concluded by now, the outcome known.

So much for her hero's welcome. Chakotay hadn't been surprised, really, at Starfleet's treatment of himself and the other Maquis, but he was taken aback at these developments. He knew better than anyone what she'd gone through to keep her crew alive and her ship intact, the sacrifices she'd made through the years. Despite overwhelming odds, she'd accomplished the near-impossible. And this was her reward.

He didn't know how long he sat there, lost in thought, until Nava's voice snapped him back to the present. "You're still here?" she asked, with a questioning look.

He didn't answer for a long moment. Then, leaning forward, he asked, "Can I see the schedule for off-world transports?"

She fiddled with the papers on her desk, found the one she was looking for, and handed it to him. "Planning on going somewhere?"

"Earth," he answered. "I'm going back to Earth."

                                                                                            FINIS

The series concludes in  "Homeward Bound ."

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