Rated PG13

Summary: A post- Endgame fixer upper of sorts. Kathryn has a surprise visitor who sets in motion an adventure that involves Voyager, time and new enemies.

Happy birthday, audabee. This is a little late but it seems to be the rule these days. :D

Thanks again to Kim J for the wonderful beta and to Corinna for the read through. I have, however, fiddled with it since so any mistakes are mine.

A story in Three Chapters.

Disclaimer: CBS/Paramount owns everything. No infringement intended.

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Chapter One.


Kathryn watched from the upper gangway as the latest transport from Romulus docked at the Bracketville spaceport. It settled on the decking with a loud clang and as soon as the whine of the inertial dampeners faded, a small complement of Starfleet security quick-marched towards the small vessel. The hatch hissed open and within moments, the first of many weary Romulan refugees tentatively made their way out of the transport to be ushered towards the Customs area.

As with all those before them, this new group of exiles consisted mostly of women and children. There were a few elderly men amongst them but the vast majority of their youth were either dead or still battling the Remans back in their home space.

The civil war - sparked by Shinzon’s abortive attempt to take over the Romulan senate - had devastated the once proud Empire and Kathryn shook her head sadly as she cast her eyes over the forty or so evacuees slowly making their way towards the decontamination bay. She admired their stoicism, particularly under the circumstances. The fortunes of war were rarely kind to civilians and Romulan pride had suffered a grievous blow when they’d been forced to ask for Federation assistance to deal with their displaced population.

The Shinzon fiasco and the disintegration of the Romulan governmental system had caused a monumental upheaval within their realm. The disgruntled Remans had gone on a rampage throughout the sector, thousands of Romulan citizens had been killed and many more displaced. Forced to flee their homes, they’d scattered to refugee camps along the edge of the neutral zone eventually finding sanctuary outside the Empire.

In accordance with the Federation’s humanitarian edicts, they were accepting hundreds of refugees every week for relocation and integration, and it was Kathryn’s job to oversee the deployment and repatriation of the exiled aliens.

Ever since the first refugees had begun arriving over a month ago, she’d spent every day here. In a convoluted way, Kathryn felt responsible for their plight. It was she who had ordered the Enterprise to Romulus - although it was an order issued from higher in the ranks and against her better judgement. The memory of it still rankled but, as the newest, and supposedly least experienced Admiral in Starfleet, she’d had little say in the matter. Her orders had come from those apparently more ‘conversant’ with the Romulan/Reman situation than she was.

That particular concept evoked a derisive snort. She’d come to realise that for the most part, the upper echelons of Starfleet’s admiralty had their heads so firmly wedged up their own asses they wouldn’t know a ‘situation’ if it reared up and smacked them right in the middle of their collective foreheads.

Taking a deep breath to stop the irritation from leaching too close to the surface, Kathryn glanced at the security officer standing to attention at her right. Luckily, he couldn’t read her mind – at least she hoped not - and her lips twitched at the thought. She looked very much the ‘admiral’ on the outside but on the inside it was a different story altogether.

And this was causing her more than a little grief.

She’d been frustrated by the constraints imposed upon her by Hayes and his cronies. Right from the initial briefings about the Romulans, her gut instincts had told her that acquiescing to Shinzon’s demands was a mistake.

The moment the self-professed Praetor insisted that Picard be sent as the Federation envoy, coupled with Starfleet’s reluctance to send back up for the Enterprise, Kathryn’s inner red alert had blared insistently. Gathered intelligence regarding Shinzon had been scarce - not to mention questionable in its veracity - and they knew so little about the Remans that no one had even seen Shinzon before Picard and his team beamed over to his Warbird and were confronted with the mind-boggling truth. As far as she was concerned, the entire mission had disaster written all over it right from the word go.

It didn’t take a genius to realise that Shinzon’s overtures of friendship were a smokescreen for something far more sinister, but there was no way she could convince the powers that be to postpone the mission or at least investigate further before putting the Enterprise at risk.

Starfleet and the Federation were allowing themselves to be manipulated and although she’d tried her damnedest to convince them to delay, her instincts were not considered evidence enough of potential disaster. They’d been so vehemently opposed to the idea of aborting the mission - unreasonably so, in her opinion – that it still made her angry just to think about it.

Even after all these weeks, no matter how hard Kathryn tried to convince herself that it was merely her imagination, something still niggled in the back of her mind. Her stomach had been in knots from the moment she’d given the assignment to Jean-Luc and as much as she wanted to ignore it, the word conspiracy kept rearing its ugly head.

The situation had been a harsh reminder of where she was situated in the pecking order – apparently at the very bottom of the heap - and her absolute and unquestioning obedience was now expected. As Tom had so succinctly put it, she wasn’t the ‘Queen Poobah’ anymore; she was merely a cog in the wheel of the great lumbering machine that was Starfleet.

The thought was somewhat daunting and demoralising.

What made it all the worse was that she knew she’d been used and hated the fact. She was convinced that Hayes had some sort of agenda and she’d been the patsy who’d taken the fall - not to mention poor Jean Luc and his crew. The realisation had prompted some very serious soul-searching in regard to what her future might hold. Her part in Shinzon’s demise, the subsequent near-destruction of the Enterprise and the loss of so many of its crew - most significantly, Data – had led her to question her true motives behind staying in Starfleet. Convenience and complacency weren’t good enough reasons anymore. Her time in the Delta Quadrant had changed her so profoundly that her unquestioning loyalty to the Federation juggernaut had become difficult to justify and sustain.

But there was also the disturbing notion that because she’d been on her own for so long – the lone master of hers and Voyager’s destinies – that she was unable to take an order or quietly acquiesce to a command. Had she become so arrogant and pigheaded that she was incapable of following a directive without argument? Did she really know better than those whose authority she felt compelled to debate? Or had megalomania set in? It was food for thought. But whatever the reason, her life since arriving back in the Alpha Quadrant hadn’t panned out quite how she’d imagined it would. The crew had disbanded, slowly but surely, drifting away from one another and, although she was in contact with many of them, her relationship with Chakotay had suffered the most. During those last harrowing days onboard Voyager, he’d been remote and uncommunicative. She’d eventually discovered why, thanks to the Admiral’s callous declaration of what their futures held, but the damage had been done and they’d spoken only a few times since their return. She missed him. She missed them all but it was the path that life had chosen for her and it was up to her to make the best of it. Her shoulders sagged. It was easier said than done.

Turning her head, she could see her reflection in the window of the decontamination bay and stared for a long moment at the stony-faced woman in the unflattering grey uniform. For God’s sake, she looked as though she’d aged years in the last few months and although she’d been wearing the new uniform for almost half a year now, it still didn’t look right. She felt a stab of nostalgia for her old maroon-shouldered jumpsuit; it had represented happier and, in many ways, simpler times. Taking a deep breath, she chided herself for her pathetic thoughts and for indulging in this wallowing pity fest. Shying away from the jarring reflection, she returned her gaze to the line of Romulan civilians and concentrated on her duty.

The Starfleet security officers were efficient, aloof and appeared to be treating the new arrivals with an acceptable degree of respect, but inwardly Kathryn cringed as she watched the long line of women and children herded like cattle through the quarantine and customs areas. She wasn’t sure why the Med corps felt it was necessary to put them through the humiliation of decontamination but it seemed that no matter how redundant or outmoded, regulations were regulations. The most virulent disease they’d found so far had been two cases of Rigellian Flu - something that could have been contracted anywhere and Kathryn made a mental note to speak to the Doctor to see if there was anything that could be done to at least spare the new arrivals this one indignity.

It made Kathryn curse the vagaries of fate and selfish desires of bastards like Shinzon. How many of these bullies had she dealt with over the years? They were all the same, merely endowed with varying degrees of unprincipled malevolence.

Walking down the gangway, she moved away from her reflection and a little closer to the line of refugees. A young boy stared up at her with wide, frightened eyes but she smiled at him reassuringly and was pleased when he gave her a shy smile in return before moving on towards the officials.

She looked along the line again as it inched forward and a young woman caught her gaze. She was staring at Kathryn as if she knew her; the look was so intense it bordered on challenging. Kathryn acknowledged her with a slight nod, which prompted the woman’s shoulders to relax. With a broad smile, she inclined her head before reaching into her cloak.

In an instant, a Security guard pounced, dragged her from the line, pinned her arms behind her back and aimed a phaser at her side. The women and children closest to them scattered, and some of the little ones started to whimper.

Bolting into action, Kathryn strode towards the fracas, barking orders. “Lieutenant, let her go and put away that weapon.”

“Admiral, my orders are to …”

Kathryn’s voice was quiet but as hard as flint. “What? Shoot unarmed civilians?”

“No Ma’am but…”

“Are you arguing with me, Lieutenant?”

“No Ma’am.”

Kathryn’s eyes narrowed.

“I mean Admiral.” He let the Romulan woman go, but kept his phaser surreptitiously aimed at her midriff.

Kathryn ignored him and addressed the woman. “Are you all right?”

“I am unharmed. Thank you.”

“It might be wise for you to show us what you were reaching for… but slowly.”

“I have no wish to harm anyone. I only wanted to give you this.” She again reached into her cloak, but held it open so that both Kathryn and the guard could see what she was doing. From the inside pocket she retrieved a small data node - an old one by the look of it.

Puzzled, Kathryn pointed to it. “That’s for me?”

“You are Kathryn Janeway?”

“I am.”

“Then, yes, I am to give it to you.”

The guard stepped forward, took the node from the woman and quickly scanned it. He nodded to Kathryn that it was safe and placed it in her hand.

Kathryn took the small disc and then studied the woman for a moment. There was something vaguely familiar about her but it was difficult to put her finger on exactly what it was. Perhaps she was someone whose image she’d seen in passing during her briefings on the Romulan situation. Nodding at the guard, Kathryn snapped out an order. “Lieutenant, please escort…” She looked towards the woman, silently prompting her for her name.

“Onara, Onara R’mor.”

“…Ms R’mor to the briefing room after she has been through customs.” She turned to the woman. “I’m sorry but you will have to go through the quarantine check before we meet.”

“I understand and thank you, Admiral. I look forward to it.”

The guard escorted the woman back into the line and Kathryn watched for a moment longer, trying to figure out why she seemed so familiar. With the data node clutched in her hand, she began to climb the gangway towards the briefing room.

Onara R’mor. She knew that name too. R’mor, R’mor.

R’mor!!

Kathryn swung around just in time to see the Romulan woman disappear into the quarantine area.

Her memories swept her back almost seven years to the first of their many great disappointments. Captain Telek R’mor – presumably the woman’s father - had been the Romulan captain whom they’d contacted through Harry’s temporal micro-wormhole all those years ago.

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It had been only three months into their journey and hopes were still riding high that around the next corner they would find a way home. When Harry stumbled upon the subspace anomaly, they’d pinned their hopes on it being a route back to Earth. It had indeed been a wormhole that led back to the Alpha Quadrant but the aperture was minuscule; its pathway filled with gravitational eddies and the entire thing was in a state of advanced decay.

After making contact with Telek’s vessel on the other side, B’Elanna came up with the idea of transporting the crew through the wormhole to the Romulan science vessel – if they could convince the ship’s captain to agree. It had all looked feasible for a short time but there was a glitch – as always.

Captain Telek R'mor had agreed to meet with Kathryn by beaming through the wormhole and it was then that they'd been able to identify the phase variance within the anomaly - it was temporal in nature and would have landed them some twenty years in Earth’s past. Despite their intense desire to go home, the ramifications to the timeline were too extreme to contemplate going ahead with the scheme.

Disappointment had been acute and Kathryn’s optimism had taken a grievous blow.

The only things left to do were to entrust Telek with a computer chip containing messages to loved ones and ask that he notify the Federation in twenty years time to let them know of Voyager’s plight. It had been so tempting to ask him to contact Starfleet at an earlier date and stop the entire mission but - as Chakotay had pointed out at the time - they’d already made their mark on the Delta Quadrant. If Voyager failed to appear, the people and events there would be drastically affected. It was only after the Romulan Captain had transported back through the wormhole to his ship and time period did Tuvok inform them that Telek had died in 2367, four years before Voyager left to pursue the Maquis into the Badlands.

They’d been devastated and it had become the first of many blighted moments in Voyager’s history of bad luck.

The incident had also heralded another first – it was the only time that Kathryn ever cried on duty. After leaving the transporter room, she’d handed the Bridge over to Chakotay, entered her Ready Room and stood by the viewport, arms wrapped tightly around her middle as she sobbed. The unfamiliar stars had blurred behind the haze of tears; it was a bitter reminder of where she was and where she was destined to stay for the foreseeable future. The catharsis had been intense but short-lived and, within ten minutes, she was back in her command chair. Still, it had been a moment of profound regret and harsh realisation that they may not make it home in her lifetime.

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At the wash of emotion the memory evoked, Kathryn closed her eyes for moment and then opened them again to peer down at the data node in her hand. She was sorely tempted to view its contents but decided to wait for Onara R’mor and hear what she had to say. The Romulan woman appeared to be in her mid-twenties which would fit with the timeline and the daughter of whom Telek had spoken all those years ago.

It never ceased to amaze Kathryn just what the universe managed to throw at her. Who could ever have imagined the extraordinary set of circumstances that would bring the daughter of that distant – in both time and space – Romulan captain literally to her doorstep?

She waited, her fingers fiddling with the data chip in her pocket until, ten minutes later, a stiff-backed Security officer escorted the young Romulan woman into the room.

Kathryn dismissed the guard and gestured that they should sit at the small table near the window. “Can I offer you something to drink, Ms. R’mor?”

“Thank you, Admiral. A coffee, if I may?”

“Coffee?”

“My father drank it all his later life - a legacy from his visit to Voyager all those years ago.”

Kathryn tried to remember if they had offered refreshments to the Romulan captain. They must have done so, but she had no recollection. She smiled at the young woman. “It’s my favourite drink.”

“So my father told me.”

Kathryn looked puzzled. “I’m surprised your father knew. We only met briefly.”

The young Romulan woman shifted uncomfortably in her chair but then smiled. It was dazzling and changed her face remarkably. “I confess, Admiral, that my father was rather taken with you. Your fate was important to him and before he died, he made me promise that I would attempt to find you if the opportunity ever presented itself.”

Astonished, Kathryn stared at the young woman but quickly gathered her wits. “I only wish it was under better circumstances.”

A flash of hurt passed across Onara’s face. “As do I.”

Kathryn nodded her understanding then looked down at the chip in her hand. “Do you know what’s on here?”

Onara nodded but her eyes flicked towards the guards hovering on the other side of the glass partition. “Yes, but it’s perhaps something that you might prefer to watch at your leisure.”

Without making a fuss, Kathryn nodded her understanding as she slipped the chip back into her pocket then tapped her combadge. “Lieutenant, could we have two cups of coffee please?” Looking at Onara, she raised her brow in question. “Black?”
Onara nodded.

“Both black, thank you, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, Admiral.”

One of the guards hurried off to fulfil Kathryn’s request as she sat for a moment and studied the young woman sitting across from her. “Tell me something about yourself, Ms R’mor. Were you based on Romulus?”

“Please call me Onara, Admiral. I feel as though I know you.”

She smiled again and Kathryn found herself smiling in return.

“Thank you, Onara.”

“Yes, my home was on Romulus and I recently graduated with a doctorate from the Romulan Science Academy. I was awaiting placement on a science vessel when the Senate was destroyed. I am an astrophysicist like my father.”

“He must have been very proud.”

“He would have been.”

Kathryn nodded sympathetically. “And your mother?”

“My mother died when I was very young, so it has only ever been my father and myself – and of course stories of the beautiful and courageous Captain Janeway.”

Rather astounded by this revelation, Kathryn’s brow knitted. “I’m at something of a loss as to why your father would think that. We spoke only a handful of times and met only once. I think he must have embellished his memory of me.”

“Deified is probably more accurate.” Onara chuckled quietly at Kathryn’s consternation. “But I never begrudged him this indulgence. You and your crew made a significant impression upon my father and he was not a man easily impressed.”

“I’m truly surprised - as you may have gathered - and I feel wholly unworthy of his admiration. We did little. It was your father who risked his life by transporting through the micro-wormhole - a bold and brave move in light of the time and circumstances.”

Onara nodded and seemed pleased with Kathryn’s assessment. “He was incurably inquisitive. I don’t think you would have been able to stop him even if you’d tried.” She tilted her head to the side. “And it was one of his dearest hopes that you would find your way home. He would have been pleased to know that you were successful.”

Onara’s revelations had astonished Kathryn, but she couldn’t help feeling a small surge of pride. Voyager’s legacy had reached far and wide - through time and space, it seemed. Still, she was slightly puzzled and leaned forward. “Did you father ever tell anyone about Voyager’s situation - apart from you, that is?”

“The chip will tell you everything, but I do know that the Romulan government was aware of what would happen to Voyager. Whether they forwarded that information on to Starfleet, I have no idea, and I don’t think my father knew either. Romulans are by nature a suspicious and xenophobic race. It’s considered a strength but it is really one of our greatest weaknesses.” Onara looked almost pained for a moment.

“My father was not like that. His chance meeting with you and your crew gave him a unique perspective and he passed on his beliefs to me. He was considered something of a maverick in his time and an avid proponent of the Unification movement. When Ambassador Spock came to Romulus, my father was to be one of his first contacts but unfortunately, he died before they could meet.”

Kathryn sat back in her chair and opened her mouth to say something, but there was a knock at the door. The guard entered - carrying a tray loaded with coffee, cups and an assortment of finger food. With a nod to Kathryn, he placed it on the table.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

He spun on his heel and left the room as Kathryn picked up the pot and poured a cup for Onara and then one for herself. She offered the young woman the plate of food and Onara gratefully took a small cookie. It was only then that Kathryn noticed the tremor in Onara’s hands and, as her sleeve slipped up her arm, saw the bony prominences of her wrist. The girl was starving.

Kathryn looked up and met the Onara’s eyes even as the young woman hastily pulled down her sleeve.

A wave of protective concern washed over Kathryn and she spoke, half-turning to call back the guard. “We have to get you a proper meal.”

Onara shook her head. “No, this is fine for now. Food has been scarce for some weeks but I will soon regain my strength – depending on where I am relocated of course - but I appreciate this.” She lifted her cup and took a sip, then sighed happily, as she placed the cup back in its saucer. “Ahhh, that is good.”

Kathryn laughed quietly. “The Doctor and Chakotay would be horrified to know that I singlehandedly - although inadvertently - contaminated your culture with coffee.”

Smiling, Onara shook her head. “It may be the one thing that could unite our people. Coffee has become quite popular amongst those of my generation.” She took another sip then looked up. “The Chakotay you speak of was your first officer?”

Kathryn nodded. “Yes, Commander Chakotay.”

Onara looked around her. “He isn’t here? My father said that he rarely strayed from your side. He and the Vulcan, Tuvok, were your constant escort.”

“Tuvok is now on Vulcan with his family.”

“And the Commander?”

Kathryn smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Chakotay is here in San Francisco but he did not remain in Starfleet.”

Onara looked pensive. “I see. And as a Starfleet officer you are not allowed to fraternise with non-Starfleet personnel. Now it’s my turn to be surprised; my father led me to believe that your society was less rigid than ours.”

As a delaying tactic, Kathryn took a deep draught of her coffee as she tried come up with an answer that would satisfy the ‘incurably inquisitive’ Ms R’mor – obviously a trait she’d inherited from her father.

“The Commander or rather, Chakotay, has embarked on a new life since his return. And due to time constraints, etcetera, it is difficult to organise meetings. Fraternisation is not disallowed however.”

“I am pleased to hear that because I would very much like to meet with him. My father thought very highly of him and Tuvok.”

Kathryn topped up their coffee and nodded vaguely. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Admiral.” Onara reached for another cookie. “May I?”

Pushing the plate towards her guest, Kathryn nodded. “Of course; have as many as you like. Are you sure you don’t want something more substantial?”

Chewing and smiling at the same time, Onara shook her head and mumbled. “No, these are delicious, but thank you.”

They were silent for a moment. Mention of Chakotay had altered the tone of their conversation and there was a tension in the room that hadn’t been there before.

Onara broke the silence. “Admiral? What is to become of me?”

There was a ‘company policy’ regarding the refugees but Kathryn felt a strong bond with this young woman.

The mere thought of sending her off to take her chances in whichever relocation program she found herself disturbed Kathryn deeply. The only solution was to do what was right. Without thinking too hard about it, she blurted. “Perhaps you could stay with me for the time being?”

Onara almost choked on her cookie. “Really? You would welcome me, a Romulan, into your home without knowing anything about me? Would your superiors allow this?”

Kathryn was startled by her own impetuousness. Since arriving back in the Alpha Quadrant, spontaneity had not been her strong suit. She’d spent the last six months maintaining rigid control and a tight rein on her emotions. This was the first time in months that she’d felt any sense of true purpose. With this realisation came the determination to make this work. She would somehow rescue this young woman from the possibility of a grim future, much as Onara’s father had been willing to rescue Voyager’s crew all those years ago. It was the least she could do for a man who had risked so much – it was her turn to take that leap of faith.

“I will make it my highest priority, Onara. I owe your father this at the very least.” She smiled warmly and reached across the table, placing her hand over the young Romulan woman’s.

Onara matched her broad smile. “I don’t know what to say, except that my father was right. You are courageous and honourable, and I did the right thing in finding you. Thank you, Admiral. I’m eternally in your debt.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. There will be a good deal of red tape to wade through before this comes to fruition, but if you could wait here, I’ll get started on organising clearance for you. Hopefully it won’t take too long.”

Grinning, Onara pointed towards the plate. “The cakes and I will keep each other company while you’re gone.”

“If you want more, just ask the guard.”

Onara eyed the stern looking security officer and shook her head. “Oh, I think I’ll be fine with what’s here.”

Kathryn followed her gaze and nodded. “We should be home for dinner if all goes according to plan. I’ll be back shortly.”

Onara stood as Kathryn left the room, then sat again slowly, taking a deep breath before pouring herself another cup of coffee.

Kathryn watched her through the one-way glass to gauge her behaviour now that she thought she was on her own. Onara picked up her cup, took a long sip and, closing her eyes, savoured the mouthful; she then took a moment to choose which cake she would eat next, obviously having trouble deciding between the chocolate cream and the fruit tart. Nothing in the way she behaved led Kathryn to believe that Onara R’mor was anything other than genuine. Besides, it was time to trust her instincts; they’d always stood her in good stead.

Taking a deep breath, Kathryn turned to the guard and spoke carefully. “Please ensure that Ms R’mor remains safe while I am gone and if she requires anything, contact me and I will inform you as to what to do. I am holding you personally responsible for her wellbeing. Do you understand, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

With one last glance at the young Romulan woman, Kathryn marched towards the transporter room. Her first stop was Starfleet Headquarters. She tapped her combadge as she walked. “Janeway to Admiral Hayes office.”

“Lieutenant Arbuckle, Admiral Janeway. How may I help you?”

“I wish to see Admiral Hayes at his earliest convenience.”

“The Admiral is at lunch at the moment but should be back in approximately twenty minutes. I shall inform him that you wish to see him.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Aye, Admiral.”

She strode through the doors of the transporter room and jogged onto the platform. The technician looked up and, in her best Admiral’s voice, Kathryn snapped out a quick. “Starfleet Admin building. Level fourteen.”

The tech tapped the co-ordinates into the console and within seconds, she was materialising in an almost identical room halfway across the continent.

“Good afternoon, Admiral Janeway.” The middle-aged engineer behind the console gave her a broad grin.

Kathryn walked towards him and shook his hand. “Chief! It’s good to see you. I hope you had a nice vacation?”

“That I did, ma’am.”

“When I have a moment you’ll have to tell me all about it but I’m afraid now I have to dash.”

“Not a problem, Admiral. I’ll see you around.”

With a pat to his shoulder, she turned towards the door. “Excellent. Say hello to Rebecca for me and welcome back. We missed you.”

“Thank you, ma’am, I will.”

Moments later, she was walking through her office doors. She had fifteen minutes before Hayes would be back and she wanted to have a quick look at the data chip before she confronted him. With a quick wave to her secretary, she marched through the doors of her inner sanctum, shutting them firmly behind her. Seating herself at her desk, she quickly scanned the information from the disc into her computer console.

“Computer playback data.”

The screen sputtered to life. The time index of 44127.62 - the equivalent of mid February 2367 – scrolled across the screen before the aged and ailing visage of Telek R’mor came into focus. He nodded slowly and gave a small smile before he began to speak.

“Greetings Captain Janeway. I will assume that if you are watching this you have made contact with my daughter and Voyager is safely returned to the Alpha Quadrant. I congratulate you. I never doubted that you would succeed in your quest; I only wish that I had better news concerning the undertaking I was to perform on your behalf.

“It had always been my intention to keep your messages secret and when the time was opportune, forward them to Starfleet without my government’s knowledge. Unfortunately, on my return to Romulus, the Tal Shiar operative onboard my vessel confiscated the chip containing all your messages and my logs were subsequently scrutinised. I was also taken into custody and questioned for many days about Voyager and her technology. I explained that I had only been on your vessel for a short time and saw nothing in great detail but they were determined to find out as much as they could.

“I was eventually released but there was no way to inform you of this development or to know what our government intended to do with the information they now possessed. I fear though, as is the practice with the Tal Shiar, that it would be used against the Federation and Starfleet. It was not something that either of us had anticipated when you initially requested my help and I regret this turn of events most sincerely.

“It was still my intention to notify the Federation covertly, but in a bitter twist to this tale, it seems I am dying. A degenerative disease contracted only a month before the end of my two-year assignment to the micro-wormhole has ravaged my body and will soon affect my mind – death hopefully will not be far behind. With four more years to go before you leave on your mission and my demise imminent, I very much doubt that there is any way that the information will reach your authorities. I am entrusting this chip to my daughter’s care but she is young at present - merely fifteen - and I hold grave fears for her safety if she should try to contact the Federation or Starfleet on my behalf. As much as I wish to fulfil your request, her wellbeing is my paramount concern. Once she is older, I hope that she will find a way to get this chip to you so that you can know what happened and understand the dangers you might face from the Tal Shiar’s knowledge of Voyager and the Delta Quadrant. I also beg of you to keep Onara safe. She will risk much by bringing this to you.

“Although it was unintended, my meeting with you and your crew radically changed my way of thinking. I have come to realise that many of our ingrained attitudes and teachings are merely propaganda and misinformation encouraged by our authorities to breed an atmosphere of suspicion and mistrust. However, there is a growing movement amongst certain Romulan factions to abolish our isolationist ways and instead embrace these differences by building bridges of understanding – especially with our brothers, the Vulcans. I have it on good authority that Ambassador Spock will make his way to Romulus in the near future to help us take the first steps along this road. I hold close the concepts of Unification and if the gods are willing and I have an opportunity to meet with the Vulcan Ambassador, I shall pass on your information to him with the hope that he will be able to forward it to the appropriate authorities.”

Kathryn paused the playback to check the dates of Spock’s visit to Romulus. As far as anyone could estimate, he’d arrived early in 2368 long after Telek's death, so the opportunity to pass on information about Voyager had again been thwarted. It seemed that the gods were against them at every turn.

Heaving a sigh, she resumed the playback.

Telek R’mor took a shuddering breath. “I am growing weary and must rest now. My time is short, so I bid you farewell, my dear Captain, and wish you a long life and happiness. If the opportunity arises, tell Onara that I love her and that your meeting is something that would have made this old man very happy.

“It was an honour knowing you, Captain.” He paused for a moment and then bowed his head. “Jolan tru, Kathryn Janeway; arham s’ten u’dheyyam daehlen.” *

The playback ended with Telek R’mor’s face frozen on the screen. Kathryn stared at him for a long moment before whispering a quiet, “Jolan tru, Telek R’mor.”

She tapped the end button and the screen went blank. Kathryn slumped back in her chair, tapping her fingers to her lips as she mulled over what she’d learned. The Romulan government had not informed Starfleet - or so it appeared.

Kathryn’s eyes narrowed at the thought. If Starfleet had been informed, they’d kept the knowledge well concealed. The least they could have done was alert the crew’s families but not if they had something to hide. These sorts of circular arguments would get her nowhere so she sat up and stared again at the blank screen.

She frowned. The current Romulan situation threw a different light onto all of this. The Tal Shiar most certainly still existed even though the governmental system was in disarray, but the nature of their powers and where they were based remained a mystery.

Although the workings of Section 31 were well removed from Kathryn’s purview, she had no doubt that any information the Tal Shiar harboured regarding Voyager’s plight, Starfleet’s ‘undercover operatives’ would be privy to as well. And as Fleet Admiral, it would stand to reason that Hayes knew something, too. She resolved to carefully gauge his reaction during their coming meeting. This all came as a timely warning, and she was grateful to Telek.

Kathryn checked the chronometer and then tapped her combadge. “Janeway to Admiral Hayes office.”

“Arbuckle here ma’am. The Admiral has just returned and will see you now.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I’m on my way.”

Kathryn quickly deleted Telek’s message from her computer and picked up the disc. It rested in her palm and she stared at it for a moment before making a purely impulsive decision. She quickly scribbled a note on a piece of paper and dropped it and the disc into a mail pouch. Since hearing the Romulan captain’s revelations, the blare of her inner red alert had increased in pitch and volume. The situation clearly had become all about trusting her instincts and this time she refused to ignore them. With that in mind, she addressed the pouch and then took a moment to question why she’d chosen that particular person as the recipient of the disc. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Of all the people in the known universe, she knew that no matter what had come between them, she could trust him with her life. She just hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Tucking the envelope under her arm, Kathryn strode out of her office and took the lift to the foyer. She stopped at the public mail ‘box’ and placed the parcel on one of several small transporter pads. She typed in the address and watched it disappear. Using the public facility wouldn’t stop security from finding out where she’d sent the pouch but, as she watched three other people use the transporter pad after her in quick succession, she knew it would take them a great deal longer to sort through the files than if she’d sent it from her office. Besides, by the time they found the address, the deed would be done.

Returning to the lift, she took it to the top floor of the Administration building and exited directly into the foyer of Hayes’ office.

“Admiral Janeway, Admiral Hayes is waiting for you. Go straight in.”

As she passed the aide, Kathryn smiled and nodded before stepping through the heavy doors of Hayes inner office.

He was seated behind his impossibly large desk but he ‘graciously’ lifted himself an inch off his seat as Kathryn entered the room. It was his interpretation of gallant and she thought sarcastically that it could do with some work. He harrumphed a few times indicating that she should take a seat, while at the same time he settled back into his.

“Janeway, it’s good to see you. How are you finding the big chair? Nice corner office and not too much hard work, although this Romulan business has been something of a nuisance. Tossed you straight into the deep end, didn’t we? But you’ve performed well and I gather that Picard and his crew are getting on with things. Their new android seems to be working out. Damn shame about Data though and hell of a situation with the Remans. You’ve been heading up the repat of the Romulan refugees nicely but there was a bit of a kerfuffle over at Bracketville this morning, I hear.”

Gritting her teeth, Kathryn suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. He was still a windbag – he’d barely drawn a breath throughout the entire meandering ramble. He gave the impression of being a garrulous and absentminded old uncle but he was anything but. He was a canny old fox. One didn’t make it to the rank of Fleet Admiral by being dim-witted. Most of his blathering was an act to put people off their guard, but Kathryn was a wake up to him and she could be equally evasive and circuitous.

“Kerfuffle? Oh, you mean the young Romulan woman. No, there wasn’t a problem - just a misunderstanding with an overzealous security guard. As it turns out, she’s the daughter of the Romulan captain whom we contacted through a micro-wormhole back on stardate 48579.4. I’m sure you remember, Admiral?”

His brow creased for a moment, but she caught his eye. It was clear and his gaze sharp - although he blustered on with his curmudgeonly act. “Micro wormhole? Hmmph. Oh, yes, of course. The one with the temporal glitch. I remember it vaguely.”

She almost snorted. Vaguely, her ass. Reports of the incident with Onara would have come through to him almost the instant it happened. Within moments, he would have ordered half the admiralty staff to dig around to find any pertinent information; such as Onara R’mor’s background and her connection to Kathryn and Voyager.

Smiling, Kathryn shrugged noncommittally. “I thought you might.”

“Would you like a coffee?” It was another diversionary tactic to throw her off her guard and before Kathryn could answer, he’d hit the intercom. “Arbuckle, coffee and cakes for the Admiral.” He looked at her again. “You look like you could use a cup. What did the young woman have to say for herself?”

Another attempt to unsettle her, but she bided her time. “Coffee and cakes would be lovely, thank you, Sir.”

“Well?”

It was like a game of cat and mouse with blindfolds and bat’leths. If she wasn’t careful, there’d be an eye out. “Well what, Sir?”

“The girl. What was her problem?”

“No problem to speak of, Admiral; only that she knew of me through her father and wished to make my acquaintance. Telek, her father, had told her stories of Voyager and she wanted to convey his apologies.”

“What on earth did he have to apologise for?”

“We had asked him to inform Starfleet at the relevant time that we were alive and well in the Delta Quadrant. He had intended to do so but unfortunately died four years before Voyager left on her mission. We already knew this but had hoped that the messages would somehow be delivered.”

“What? You asked him seven years ago?”

“Yes, in our timeline, Sir; in his, it was twenty-seven.”

“Hmmmph. Temporal anomalies give me indigestion.”

Kathryn smiled in mock sympathy. “They give me headaches.” She waited a heartbeat before she asked. “Starfleet didn’t know, did they, Sir?”

“Know? Not to my knowledge - at the time.”

That was as good as a yes in Kathryn’s book and the wail of her internal red alert hiked up a notch. But the game wasn’t over yet. “I thought as much.”

“Did she say anything else that could be of use?”

“No, but we only spoke briefly. There is another part of my reason for seeing you. I offered to keep her with me for the time being. She seems to trust me and it’s probably wise considering her connection with Voyager. I might be able to glean more information as she becomes more comfortable in my presence.”

“Good thinking, Janeway. Take a few weeks off and see what you can come up with.”

Kathryn was stunned. If she were a suspicious person, she might think that he was trying to distance her from the situation. But just as she was about to voice her objections, the coffee arrived and precious moments were taken up with idle chatter and the ritual pouring of the bitter brew.

She could feel Hayes’ eyes on her as he went about the business of filling each mug, offering cream and sugar - which she declined - before passing her a steaming cup.

“Admiral, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to take time off.”

“But I do, Janeway. You can’t monitor the Romulan if you are at work every day. She’d be in your home; have access to all and sundry. No, I insist. Whilst she’s in your care, you are to take as much time off as is necessary; otherwise, I’d send her to a repat camp.”

Her options were limited and Hayes knew he had her over a barrel. However, he’d said nothing about restricting her access to her office, files or privileges.

Kathryn acquiesced. “A vacation is always welcome and Indiana is nice this time of the year.”

He nodded almost absentmindedly before insisting that she try one of his wife’s macaroons. She did so with a smile, taking a small bite and commenting on how delicious they were, before placing the remainder on her saucer.

Kathryn sighed as she took her first sip of coffee. “I still haven’t tired of the taste.”

“I’m glad to hear it. How’s your mother?”

“She is very well, Sir.”

“Say hello to Gretchen for me. It’s been too long.”

“I will.”

Suddenly the niceties were over and, like flicking a switch, his mood changed and they were straight back to business. “Take the girl home with you, Janeway. Keep an eye on her and let me know if there is any useful information on that chip she gave you.”

Kathryn didn’t bat an eyelid. “I’ve already tried to download the information but the node is too damaged and fragmented. According to the girl, her father made the recording just before he died and he was barely coherent. I can send it to Starfleet comm. labs and see if they can piece it together but I don’t like their chances.”

“When you have a moment that’s probably wise. Considering the state of the Empire and the age of the recording, I can’t imagine that what’s on it would be of any use, but it’s important to dot all the I’s and cross all the T’s.” His demeanour appeared indifferent but there was a veiled threat neatly hidden beneath the innocuous words.

“Consider it done, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Kathryn’s teeth ground together almost audibly but she smiled benignly as she placed her cup on the table. “I should get back to Bracketville. I need to review the latest list of evacuees.”

“Hell of a job but someone’s got to do it, eh?”

“Aye, sir.”

Standing up, she nodded towards Hayes. “Admiral.”

“Keep in touch, Janeway and have a nice vacation.”

“Oh, I will.”

Not waiting to give him the satisfaction of dismissing her, Kathryn turned quickly and exited his office. Damn the prattling and conniving old bastard. She’d known that word of the data node would have gotten to him. Sending it to Chakotay had been the right thing to do and if B’Elanna could do what Kathryn hoped she could, then all would be well.

Kathryn knew that Hayes would now be keeping tabs on her and decided that she wouldn’t return to her office but go straight back to Bracketville. There was something afoot, she could ‘feel it in her waters’ - as Aunt Martha used to say - and Hayes knew far more than he was letting on. She needed to speak to someone she could trust. Admiral Patterson was off world. He’d retired to a planet in the Caldos system not long after Voyager had been lost. From what she understood, it had been a hurried retirement but now she wondered if it had something to do with Voyager’s situation.

Her next thought was Admiral Paris but with Tom, B’Elanna and Miral in the picture, she didn’t want to compromise their fragile but developing relationship with Owen. She wasn’t sure if she was being paranoid, but now that the seed of doubt had been planted, it was difficult not to see conspiracies around every corner. As someone had once said: “just because you think you’re paranoid, it doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.” Suddenly, life in the Delta Quadrant seemed like a stroll in the park. At least out there it was a given that almost everyone wanted them dead and no one pretended to be friendly.

Within twenty minutes, she was striding up the hallways of the customs building at Bracketville spaceport. Rounding the corner, she could see only one guard outside the door of the briefing room; the other one was missing.

She approached without breaking her stride. “How is everything, Ensign?”

“Fine, Admiral. The pris… your guest is fine.”

Kathryn ignored the slip but wondered just how close it was to the truth.

She opened the door to find the other guard sitting opposite Onara but he bolted to his feet nearly knocking his chair over when Kathryn entered the room. “Admiral Janeway, I was just keeping Ms R’mor company.”

“I’m sure you were. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

He spun on his heel and was gone almost before she’d finished speaking.

“Are you all right, Onara?”

“I’m fine. He seemed quite friendly.”

“Did he ask you many questions?”

“Some, but mostly he talked about the Remans and the war. He didn’t question me about Voyager or the Delta Quadrant. Still, I was… evasive.”

Kathryn’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. She had the feeling that her interruption had been timely. He hadn’t had a chance to get to the ‘good’ stuff. It was no more than she’d expected.

“Well done, Onara, and I’m sorry I had to leave you to fend for yourself but we’ll be out of here shortly. I’ve spoken to my superiors…” There was a telling pause and Kathryn had to make a concerted effort not to let her lip curl in distaste – superiors, pfhttt! “… and they’re happy for you to come home with me. They’ve also given me some time off. I thought we might go to my mother’s house. It’s quieter there and she’s a wonderful cook.”

Onara swallowed several times and Kathryn saw her eyes fill with tears. So far, the young woman had maintained a brave front but now that the urgency of the moment had past, chinks were beginning appear in her armour. Over the past few months, her entire life had been turned upside down and a reaction was inevitable.

Giving her a moment to regain control, Kathryn turned to the guard and signalled for him to enter. It didn’t escape her notice that the Lieutenant was gone but she ignored it as his young offsider snapped to attention. “Ensign, could you bring me the files for today’s arrivals.”

“Aye, Admiral.”

Kathryn turned back to Onara. She appeared to have regained her equilibrium.

“Once I’ve reviewed the files, we can leave.”

“Thank you, Admiral. I can’t tell you what this means to me. I’m in your debt.”

“Not at all, Onara. It is the very least I can do after what your father was willing to risk and what you yourself have done.”

Onara shrugged. “It was important to him and therefore important to me.”

Kathryn gave her a knowing look. “I understand.”

Before they could say anything more, the security guard returned with two PADDs. He deposited them on the desk in front of Kathryn before returning to his post outside the door. It only took a few moments to glance through the list to ensure that all the evacuees had been billeted and transportation organised for those travelling to other Federation planets.

Pressing her thumbprint to both PADDs, Kathryn smiled at her companion. “All done. Are you ready to leave?”

“Yes, but I had a small bag of belongings that I would like to take with me. We were told to leave our personal items in the shuttle; I’m not sure where it is now.”

“I do. Come, we’ll find it.”

Kathryn ushered her towards the door and, after handing the PADDs to the guard, she and Onara walked down to the customs area.

The rest of the Romulan evacuees were gone; sent to temporary accommodation until transports arrived to take them to their next destination. Kathryn thought for a moment about the small boy whom she’d seen that morning and hoped that he was being cared for. As much as she hated to admit it, Hayes flippant comment was close to the money; it was a hell of a job.

Onara’s bag was the only one left in the customs area and after quickly picking it up, they headed towards the transporter room.

They beamed to Kathryn’s apartment complex and took the lift to the forty-seventh floor.

“It won’t take me long to pack and we’ll be at my mother’s by dinner time. She’ll be very pleased to have someone to dote on. With both my sister…”

While Kathryn was talking, the lift doors opened. She stepped out into the foyer, only to come to a dead stop.

Chakotay was standing by the door and upon her arrival, came striding towards them.

“Kathryn, are you all right? What the hell is going on?”

“What are you doing here?”

He looked surprised. “What am I doing here?” He pulled the postal pouch from his pocket. “I haven’t heard from you in months and then this arrives out of the blue with a cryptic note. Give me some credit. I know when you’re up to something.”

At this point, Onara peered around the door of the lift and Chakotay snapped his mouth shut as he stared at her.

Kathryn glanced over her shoulder before stepping to the side. “Chakotay, this is Onara R’mor. Onara, this is Chakotay.”

The young Romulan woman came forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chakotay.”

Chakotay stared at her for a long moment. “How do you do, Onara?” He paused, and then peered at her more closely. “R’mor...” He glanced at Kathryn and she nodded.

“Telek R’mor’s daughter. Do you remember?”

He frowned. “Of course I do.”

Kathryn had to stop herself from heaving a weary sigh. Chakotay was angry, but she didn’t know why. And out here on the landing certainly wasn’t the place to discuss any of this. “We can’t stand out here all night. Come on; it must be time for a coffee.”

Onara grinned. “Isn’t it always time for a coffee?”

With a quick glance at Chakotay’s puzzled face, Kathryn stepped past him with Onara by her side and walked up the corridor to her door.

She could feel Chakotay’s eyes drilling into her back, but at the threshold, she turned. “Are you coming in?”

Without a word, he strode after them.