Story Notes: This is the second story of the "Homeward Bound" series, following " Official Channels ."
 

TRIUMPH

The order to exit into normal space was broadcast over shipwide speakers. Immediately, the entire bridge crew burst into applause. They weren't the only ones. From the sound of it, Voyager's crew was celebrating on all decks.

Janeway raised her voice slightly to be heard over the clamor. "Report."

"No damage suffered in our transition from the modified drive, Captain." Tuvok's face was as expressionless as always, but Janeway could have sworn she heard a hint of satisfaction, and perhaps something more, in his voice.

"Very good. Our current position?"

"We're definitely in the Alpha Quadrant!" Harry Kim was under no such Vulcan-like restraint. He was excited and showed it. "At standard cruising speed, we should be entering sector 001 within the next 6 hours."

"Open a channel to Starfleet Command, Lieutenant Kim." Janeway stood as Admiral Hayes appeared on the viewscreen.

"Welcome back, Captain. Right on schedule." Hayes was referring to the fact that once the Pathfinder team had managed to establish a monthly window of communication with the lost starship, little of Voyager's fate had been left to chance or conjecture. Janeway had dutifully sent logs, reports, crew manifests and various other updates as requested by Starfleet---a seemingly never-ending datastream. Once Voyager's new drive was operational, the starship's homeward progress had advanced in leaps and bounds, so much so that they overshot the long-range vessels that Starfleet had diverted to meet them in a few years' time. As Voyager got closer, the time between communication intervals grew less. They had been able to give Starfleet a pretty accurate estimate, as it turned out, of their arrival.

"We aim to please, Admiral," Janeway said with a smile. "Our orders?"

Hayes appeared to consult a padd in front of him. "You're to proceed directly to Earth, Captain, and dock at McKinley Station. Once there, command will formally be transferred to the stationmaster and a team of engineers will come on board to make an initial assessment."

This was not quite what she'd expected, but Janeway gave no indication of her surprise. "Understood, sir. And my crew?"

"You're all to beam down directly to Headquarters." He forestalled her next comment by saying, "Leave your personal belongings on board. You'll have an opportunity to claim them later. Oh, and Kathryn?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Welcome home. We're all damn proud of you and what you've accomplished."

"Thank you, Admiral. Janeway out."

Once the Admiral's visage faded from the screen, Janeway turned to her first officer. "Well?"

"'Right on schedule'?" Chakotay snorted. "Sure, if you overlook the fact that Voyager is seven years overdue."

"Six point four, to be exact," Tuvok said.

"Whatever." Chakotay waved his hand dismissively.

"You know the old saying, Commander," Janeway said. "Better late than never."

"And not having us stop at one of the deep space stations first..." Chakotay shook his head. "Sounds like they're very eager to see you, Captain."

"Eager to see all of us," Janeway corrected him. "I'm pretty sure that until recently, Starfleet was none too confident we'd make it back."

"Those Admirals must not know you very well. Come hell or high water, you were bound to get us home."

She gave him a look, then held out her hand. He took it and she gave his hand a squeeze. "Before it gets too crazy, before we get sucked into the inevitable red tape and Starfleet bureaucracy and all the other things that were not high on my list of what I missed about life in the Alpha Quadrant, I just want to say thank you."

"For what?"

"I could never have done this without you, Chakotay." Then, realizing she was still on shipwide speakers, Janeway hastily stabbed at her console.

He smiled, then leaned close and whispered, "I should be thanking you for what you've done over the years, and for the sacrifices you made to ensure that this day would come."

"I would say, 'all part of the job', but we both know that isn't strictly true." She let her hand linger on his for a moment longer, "But we pretty much covered this last night."

"As in everything you do, Captain, it was most thorough," he agreed.

At the helm, Tom Paris was heard to say, "What a long strange trip it's been." He swiveled slightly in his chair to observe Voyager's command team. When she caught his eye, Janeway didn't flinch or look embarrassed. Instead, with the broad smile that seemed to have taken up permanent residence on her face these days, she said, "Take us home, Tom."

The closer they got to Earth's solar system, the longer the trip seemed to take. Of course, they were obliged to slow down due to increased congestion and ships traffic. Off Voyager's port bow, the U.S.S. Yorktown traveled as an honor guard. A few smaller vessels followed at a respectful distance.

"Rather like a triumph," Chakotay observed.

"Commander?"

"In ancient Rome, a triumph was a procession celebrating the return of a victorious general and his army, complete with spoils and captives."

"It's a nice image," Janeway said. "And I suppose the new drive system, as well as some of our other technological advances, could be viewed as spoils. But no captives."

"You forgot the Maquis," Chakotay said with a tight smile.

"The Maquis on board Voyager are an integral part of my crew," Janeway said firmly. "A fact which I intend to make very clear to Starfleet Command at the outset."

Voyager's first officer looked as though he was about to make another comment, but thought better of it. He leaned back in his seat with a sigh, and returned his attention to the screen.

The shipping lanes weren't the only things that were crowded; at Ops, Kim was very busy dealing with the sheer number of communications pouring in. "Every ship in the sector must have sent a message welcoming us home."

"Just keep broadcasting the same general statement, Harry," Janeway said. "That we appreciate their good wishes but we're under orders to proceed directly to Earth without further delay."

"Aye, Captain." A short time later Kim looked up and said, "Captain, there's one from the Enterprise."

"This one I'll take, Lieutenant." She turned to Chakotay and said somewhat apologetically, "Can't just brush off the flagship of the fleet, now can I? Not to mention Jean-Luc Picard."

But the face that appeared on the screen was that of a smiling Will Riker. "Welcome home, Voyager."

"Thank you, Captain Riker." She cocked her head to study him. "I see there have been a few changes around here since I left."

Riker said, "Are you referring to my captaincy, or to the missing beard?"

"Both."

"Well, they're both pretty recent changes, all things considered, so in that respect you haven't missed too much."

"Glad to hear it."

"I know you're heading straight to Earth, but I just wanted to congratulate you on your return, Kathryn," Riker's eyes twinkled. "I knew if anyone could pull this off, it'd be you."

"Thanks, Will. I hope we'll have the chance to catch up in the near future."

"Looking forward to it. Riker out."

Chakotay gave Janeway a sidelong glance. "Are you on a first name basis with every bigwig in the Fleet?"

"It may seem that way, but no. Will Riker and I go back a long way, to our Academy days."

Paris turned to look at the captain. "Riker had quite a reputation there. The man and his exploits were legendary--"

"It's not what you think, Tom." Janeway realized she had the undivided attention of the entire bridge crew. "I had exactly one date with Mr. Riker. If you can even call it that. It could probably go down in the annals as the one of the worst fiascoes of all time."

"I'd be interested in hearing some details," Chakotay said with a grin. Paris nodded emphatically.

"Another time, perhaps, gentlemen." To herself, Janeway muttered, "Or maybe not."

"And this is a shot of the starship Voyager docking at Station McKinley. The amazing story of the lost ship, and how they overcame tremendous odds to return home---" Mark Johnson hit the mute button as his wife entered the room.

"Anything happening?" Carly asked, as she joined him on the couch. She handed him a steaming mug of coffee, which he took with a nod of thanks.

"No new information, yet. They're just replaying shots of the ship as it entered the solar system. But they keep on saying that any time soon the crew is going to start beaming down and they're promising live coverage."

"Who's doing the reporting?"

"Elizabeth Ray." Mark made a face, which didn't go unnoticed by Carly.

"I know you don't like her, Mark, but she is a good journalist. And even before regular contact was established with Voyager, she did a number of features that kept the ship in the forefront of public attention. You yourself said that may very well have been instrumental in maintaining Pathfinder's funding, even in the aftermath of the war and the rebuilding effort."

Mark listened to Carly's reasoned explanation, but shook his head. "I'm not disputing her credentials, or how she's helped keep the media spotlight on Voyager. God knows, they may very well need public support to get through the next few months. But that woman is personally a pain in the butt, and too damn aggressive."

"She had to be, to break the story of the Brannon Affair a few years back. Some of the details she brought to light were crucial in gaining a conviction. Give credit where it's due, dear, she always gets to the heart of a story."

"By charging straight through anyone in her way." Mark took a deep breath. "I haven't forgotten her series on 'those that were left behind' around the time Voyager sent their EMH through that alien array."

"When we first learned they were still alive." Carly nestled closer to her husband and waited.

His eyes remained focused on the vidscreen, which was now showing the first Voyager crew materializing on the main transporter pad at Starfleet Headquarters. He raised the volume slightly; the voice-over was simply identification of the people stepping off the platform, looking strangely out of place in the old-style uniforms which had been regulation when Voyager first disappeared.

"She's a real pro--got that sympathetic tone down pat, as she's asking the most intrusive questions." He continued in falsetto, 'How do you feel, Mark--you don't mind if I call you Mark, do you? Oh, all right, Dr. Johnson, how do you feel knowing that your fiancee, who you gave up for dead years ago, is still alive?" His voice shifted back to its normal baritone. "Of course, when she learned I was no longer the grieving partner, but had actually had the temerity to go on with my life, well, let's just say her sympathy went out the window."

"I never saw that interview."

"I guess she ditched it and decided to pester Gretchen and Phoebe instead."

"A move she most likely regretted," Carly said. "Phoebe probably threatened to chuck her out the nearest window."

Mark smiled, despite himself. "I believe she was a little more polite in her suggestion, but the gist was the same."

"No wonder there weren't any interviews with Captain Janeway's 'nearest and dearest'."

More crew were beaming down; still no one high level. The anchor and reporter were chatting about some of the more unusual Voyager members set to appear soon, including a Delta Quadrant native and two former members of the Borg Collective. There was much discussion on just what these people would do, now that the ship had returned. Mark couldn't help but notice there was no speculation on the fate of the Voyager Maquis.

As if reading his thoughts, Carly turned to look at him. "What did you mean, Mark, when you said

they may very well need the media and public support in the coming months?"

Mark hesitated. "That's privileged information, Carly--"

"All right, if you can't tell me--"

"No." Mark sighed again. "Starfleet has never made any formal declaration on the status of the Maquis crewmembers, not when contact was first established, and not now. They could receive full pardons in recognition of their service aboard Voyager, or Starfleet may very well decide to put them on trial for their past crimes."

"Surely, after the Dominion War---" Carly began.

Mark interrupted her once more. "And the Maquis are the least of it. From what I heard, Starfleet's been going over the mission logs with a fine tooth comb. Apparently, there is a feeling that a few of Kathryn's command decisions were somewhat 'questionable'."

"Now that's ridiculous." She saw the look on his face and stopped. "Mark, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. They're returning heroes, and Starfleet is bound to treat them as such."

Any answer he may have made was forestalled by a burst of excitement from the vidscreen. "And here they come, the Voyager senior staff! Lieutenant Harry Kim, Ops! Lieutenant Thomas Paris, Helm! Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Chief Engineer! The EMH Mark-I, Chief Medical Officer! Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, Chief of Security!" Mark watched as they stepped down and were met by uniformed officials who quickly led them away.

The platform remained empty for a few moments. Then, "Commander Chakotay, First Officer! And," here the announcer paused for dramatic effect as the camera zoomed in for a close-up, "Captain Kathryn Janeway!"

Mark leaned forward for his first glimpse of her in nearly seven years. She had cut her hair, he noticed. Otherwise she looked about the same as she had the last time he saw her, albeit a bit older. There were a few new lines about her eyes, but she was smiling as she turned to her XO, who bent his head to hear what she was saying. He laughed and then Kathryn took his hand in hers and they raised their clenched fists high over their heads, in an ancient symbol of victory.

"The triumphant return of the crew of the U.S.S. Voyager!"

Mark was no longer listening. "Welcome back, Kathryn," he said quietly. "I hope it's everything you hoped for."
 

FINIS

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