CHAPTER ONE:

HERE WE GO AGAIN

Voyager, Delta Quadrant
December 2377

"But you promised," he protested through the downpour of rain. "You promised you wouldn't leave me."

She turned away from him, willing the dam behind her eyes not to break. "I know," she whispered, her eyes frantically searching their surroundings for something other than him to focus her gaze on. She was surprised to find them standing, not on New Earth, awaiting transport… but in Engineering. It shouldn't be raining in Engineering, she thought absently. I need to get to environmental controls and…

He stepped forward and her train of thought came to a screeching halt. "I'm not going to let you do this to us," he said with authority. He took her face in his hands forcefully. She forgot all about the storm on board and offered no resistance; he was so attractive with his dripping hair, his uniform clinging to his body. He leaned close and drew her lips to—

Kathryn Janeway awoke with a gasp and sat straight up in her bed, stiff as a board. Her vision quickly cleared; she was still in her quarters. She grabbed at her dry clothes and looked up to make sure the ceiling wasn't leaking. It wasn't.

She groaned and slowly lay back down, aggressively smothering her face with a pillow.

Five years. It had been five years – half a decade – since their… romantic excursion on that planet. Five years, one month, and twenty-something days – yet it still snaked its way into her dreams, constantly morphing the facts and blurring the details and awarding her the happy ending that real life denied her. That she denied herself.

She removed the pillow from her face and glared at the ceiling, as if some malevolent god above her had violated her sleep with what could only be described as indiscreet personnel fraternization. "Computer, time."

"0300 hours."

She let out an exasperated sigh. Her heart was still racing, and she knew that by the time she was able to coax her mind back to rest, it wouldn't be worth the extra few minutes of sleep.

So she arose angrily and headed straight for the replicator. "Coffee, black." Her voice was laced with such irritation that she momentarily fought the impulse to offer an apology to the machine.

This was the ninth night in a row she had awoken from a dream starring Chakotay and… indiscreet personnel fraternization. At the thought, she blushed and pressed her clammy palms against her face.

Over the course of the last five years, since their return to space, Chakotay had occupied a solid amount of screen time in her dreams. It wasn't unusual, but she fought against it anyway. She sometimes found it was difficult to distinguish her dreams from her real life, though she desperately longed not to have to. She wished she could enjoy the dreams, wrap herself up in the warmth and tenderness of them, but even in the privacy of her own quarters, in the privacy of her own thoughts, she fought the temptation to.

As ridiculous as she knew the notion was, Kathryn was terrified she would run across a telepath or an empath or any other -path and they would be able to read her buried feelings like an open book, and then download them onto PADDs for the whole crew to read.

That somehow at the exact moment she let her mind drift off to unwholesome activities with her first officer, right at that very moment... her mind would be probed and the jig would be up.

So she woke up in a panic every night, embarrassed and ashamed... and slightly horrified.

The truth was, Chakotay didn't need a telepath to tell him what was going on in her head. He could tell the moment Kaythryn walked into the room what mood she was in, whether she was there for work or for play, and he definitely always knew when she was about to say something he wasn't going to agree with.

With a heavy sigh Kathryn downed her coffee and headed to her sonic shower.

…

Chakotay threw punch after punch, but his holographic sparring partner dodged them all.

It was an excellent work-out, but that's not what Chakotay was after. Not this morning. He needed to feel his body connect with something; he needed to hit something. Hard.

He had had another dream about Kathryn last night. Not an all together unusual happenstance for him, but the dreams were getting more and more vivid. And more frequent. They were getting consistently harder to ignore, and Kathryn wasn't making it any easier. Lately she had been... around. An odd feeling, since the two of them generally worked in tandem and often sought each other out after their duty shifts had ended. It wasn't logical to feel that she was around any more lately than she had always been; yet Chakotay felt it nevertheless. It seemed that every corner he rounded led to her. Every turbolift he entered he was forced to stand in alone, with her, in all the beautiful, delicate toughness that was Kathryn Janeway. Their lives on Voyager, especially for the past five or so years, had been so intertwined that sometimes it was hard to decipher where his life ended and Kathryn's began. He didn't want to decipher it; he didn't want there to be a distinction between their lives at all. They were meant to be one. How could Kathryn not see that?

She does, he reminded himself. She knows we're supposed to be together.

Deny it though she may try, it was undeniable that some kind of magnetic force had locked onto them. It never stopped pulling them together. Chakotay felt an all-too-familiar helpless frustration bubble up within him and he fought to compose himself and push it back down, trying to force his mind back into the ring, back into the moment.

Instead, he felt the force behind his opponent's glove as it collided with his cheek and sent him tumbling backwards, falling onto the ropes. He let out a groan and remained draped over the edge of the ring, feeling about five different degrees of defeat mixing in with his frustration. The other boxer removed his protective helmet.

"Commander, I do believe that is the first time I have been able to hit you."

Chakotay spit out his mouthguard, the sting of his opponent's glove still throbbing on his cheek. "Yeah. Congratulations," he said bitterly.

"I don't think it's supposed to be that easy."

Chaktoay glared at the hologram. "No, it's not."

He removed his helmet and stepped out of the ring, heading to a punching bag. Apparently, today, he needed a stationary target.

His opponent followed him. "Your mind wasn't in our game, Commander. You never give up like that. You usually beat me at expert level, but today you set me to novice. And I won."

"Do you have a point?"

"I'm only asking because I'm concerned."

"Well, thank you, but I'm fine." Chakotay turned his focus from the overly-curious holographic boxer to the punching bag. He let his hand connect with the bag, his whole weight behind it, and a modicum of frustration melted away. Another punch. And another. Gradually his emotions began to lighten.

"I do not believe you're fine."

"Computer, del-"

"Commander! There's no need to delete me. I'm only trying to help. Lady troubles, is it?"

Chakotay glared again. "No."

The hologram sat down on a bench and watched Chakotay throw himself at the bag. "Ah, lady troubles. I'm no stranger to the failed romance, Commander, if you want to discuss such matters with me. Perhaps I could be of help?"

Chakotay's comm-badge beeped. "Janeway to Chakotay." He paused, mid-punch. The sound of her voice washed over him and he smiled as a common mixture of emotions coursed through him. As painful as it sometimes was to be in the room with her - but not with her - there was no place in the universe he preferred to be.

"So that's the lady?" the hologram asked. "She sounds cute. Maybe she has a sister?"

"Computer, end program." He tapped his badge. "You're up early, Captain," he said cheekily. He could almost see her rolling her eyes at him.

"Well, yes. I am. May I come in? Or are you running a mutiny simulation?"

Chakotay paused, his mind jumping to warp. She wanted to join his holodeck time. That was unusual. Maybe he wasn't going crazy after all; maybe she really was around more lately than she had ever been before. Maybe that was on purpose. Maybe… she was waving a white towel, calling out surrender in the unnecessary battle she had made for herself. There was never any reason they couldn't be together, he had known that from the beginning. How long were they stranded out here when he asked her, point blank, if she planned on pairing off? With him, he wanted to say, but didn't. That was long before New Earth.

"Computer, activate program Chakotay-six-alpha." He tapped his comm-badge again, "I thought you'd never ask."

…

She was on her way to Astrometrics, where she was sure Seven of Nine would already be mapping out charts and maximizing efficiency, but Janeway wandered first into the mess hall, where Neelix was busily preparing breakfast for the crew whose shifts were about to start.

He caught sight of her from behind the kitchen and smiled. "Good morning, Captain Janeway!" She couldn't help but grin at the enthusiasm in his voice. "You're up mighty early."

He could say that again.

"Good morning, Mr. Neelix. What's in store for us this morning?" she inquired as she lifted herself onto her tip-toes to sneak a peak at his kitchen full of steaming pots and pans.

"An Earth delicacy, Captain! Scrambled eggs with ham, mixed in with some leola root! Oh, and, per the request of the Parises over there, chocolate chip pancakes."

He flipped one into the air and caught it right back on the spatula, exuberance emanating from his very core. She was equally amused as she was impressed with her Talaxian morale officer, as always. What had they done to deserve him? His smile seemed to melt away all of her inner angst and she thought, not for the first time, that Neelix was a more-than-adequate substitute for a ship's counselor.

For a moment she rested her chin in her palm and grinned adoringly at him. He welcomed it and basked in her approval before offering her a plate.

"Sure, why not? Tell me you have coffee brewing back there." Neelix clapped his hands at her request and returned with a plate full of leola root scramble and a stack of pancakes with little brown specs. And, most importantly, a steaming cup of coffee. "Neelix... these eggs are blue," Janeway said, eyeing the food accusingly. Neelix just nodded excitedly.

"They're replicated from a very special egg on Talax, the egg of a wontir... not unlike the chicken on your planet. Just a great deal meaner," he chuckled. "Trust me, you'll like these better." Janeway smiled diplomatically but she highly doubted it.

She scanned the room for Chakotay, but her eyes settled on Tom and B'Elanna in the corner, leaning across the table and talking to each other in hushed tones; a case that seldom, if ever, didn't lead to trouble. B'Elanna abruptly placed a hand on her swollen stomach and quickly guided Tom's hand to the same spot. Tom grinned in that foolish, awe-struck way new or soon-to-be fathers often do.

The sight of the budding family warmed Janeway's heart, but also made her whole body ache for a life that she wanted so desperately but might never come to know. Subconsciously, she let her hand flutter down to momentarily rest on her own abdomen.

How many times had she dreamt about what their children would look like? How many times had she seen them grow up from adorable, dimpled babies to beautiful, intelligent adults? They would have the faith that Chakotay held so dearly but that had always eluded Kathryn. They would have her sense of control, her sense of purpose, her unshakable moral compass. How many times had she watched Chakotay rock their crying baby to sleep? How many times had she climbed into a tiny bed, surrounded by children with caramel skin (and one with blue), and read a bedtime story?

And how many times had she woken up, heartbroken to find herself utterly, eternally alone?

It was a forbidden life she wanted with a forbidden lover.

Janeway shook her head, forcing the thought out of her mind and made her way over to the helmsman and engineer.

Tom pulled up an extra chair to their table upon her approach. "Captain Janeway! Good morning! You're up early," he said, echoing Neelix.

Janeway raised an eyebrow, but smiled. "I suppose I am."

"Well, it's always a pleasure to see your wonderful, bright shining face before reporting for duty." The Captain and B'Elanna rolled their eyes. "Have you had a bite of your green eggs and ham?" asked Tom with a grin.

She could tell by his voice it was meant to be a joke, albeit one that went over her head. She humored him and laughed anyway; no doubt a reference to an obscure 20th century science fiction film.

"It's an early morning for everyone today, I guess," B'Elanna informed her. "We saw Seven of Nine on her way to Astrometrics on our way here, but no surprise there. Harry is sitting in your chair playing our fearless leader, and Chakotay said last night he planned to squeeze in his holodeck time before his shift started with the rest of us. He's probably there now..."

Without thought, she arose and excused herself from the table.

"With all the productivity happening, I might as well find something to do myself. You know what they say, 'The idle mind is the Devil's playground.' Please, Tom, help yourself to the blue eggs and ham," she said with a pat on his back. The couple watched as their captain abruptly bounced off.

"She's probably on her fifth cup of coffee by now, and on an empty stomach," B'Elanna offered a baffled Tom as an explanation.

…

Captain Janeway arrived at Holodeck Two and was about to intrude uninvited when she suddenly thought better of it. He might be running something he didn't want her to see. She tapped her comm-badge, "Janeway to Chakotay."

"You're up early, Captain," he responded.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, yes. I am. May I come in? Or are you running a mutiny simulation?"

The silence lasted a moment too long, and she blushed. How ridiculous of her to assume he would want to share his holodeck time. She opened her mouth, about to make up an excuse to run off and spare him the awkwardness, but he spoke first.

"I thought you'd never ask." She could hear the grin in his voice.

Kathryn walked through the doors and found herself in an alarmingly familiar setting: it was a holographic representation of their home on New Earth. She inhaled sharply and searched her mind for a reason to leave, her Starfleet-trained instincts suddenly kicking in and driving her to retreat; as one always did when victory in battle was unattainable. If he started pushing at the walls she built, she was genuinely worried they might fall right over.

Every time he took her here, to this holoenvironment, to holoprogram Chakotay-six-alpha, it was an overwhelmingly bittersweet experience and she found her heart aching for him. Today was no different. Instantly, she felt ashamed for letting her mind make such a fuss over a few inappropriate dreams whilst Chakotay sat diligently, patiently, day after day waiting for her.

He had had a few short-lived romances, and while it was something they didn't talk about, she knew he felt like he was betraying her every time. He couldn't enjoy her, he couldn't enjoy other women, and both realities pained her.

"Hey-ho Kathryn!" Chakotay yelled from somewhere in the distance.

She laughed as he made his way over to her. "Well, howdy there, Chakotay. When B'Elanna said you were on the holodeck this early, I had imagined you were doing something... important," she teased.

"This is important." His tone was suddenly serious. "I was running a boxing simulation, but when I heard your voice I switched to this program." He was scanning her face and she could tell he was choosing his next words carefully. "Our program."

Kathryn breezed past the sentiment, "There was no need to change for my account, I just wanted to drop by and say 'good morning' before the day began." Chakotay stared at her and she began to get nervous. "I have a feeling something BIG is going to happen today." She waved her hands to accentuate the thought. He still remained serious, and Kathryn felt her stomach flop.

Chakotay moved forward. "It's been a while since we've had a visit to our old beige home in the wilderness. I thought you might welcome the chance to do so." His voice was quiet, and filled with a million questions he didn't dare ask – not yet, anyway; now he was just testing the waters. It was a familiar dance.

She wasn't sure if it was her imagination or her heightened sense of Chakotay-awareness in light of the dreams, but he was coming off awfully brave this morning, and she wasn't sure why.

"I do... I loved this place, Commander." Kathryn gently emphasized his rank, using his pips to build an invisible barrier. An old, tired tactic, but he broke eye-contact with her and she could tell the effort was not lost on him. Her point made, she sought to brighten the mood once again. "And you even re-created my primate friend. And the bathtub!"

"If we can't be just Kathryn and Chakotay here, then where can we be?" he asked softly.

She wondered where this was going and how long she should let it go on. It was unfair to demand patience and reserve from him indefinitely; she understood his feelings as they mirrored her own, and most of the time she could handle his lapses into the past without breaking down herself.

Lapses into the past? That wasn't particularly accurate. It had been just slightly over five years since they had returned to space, leaving this life behind, but while their budding physical relationship had been left on the planet, abandoned along with her budding tomatoes, their emotional one never faltered.

It was hard, at first, to continue working side-by-side as captain and first officer while their emotions and wounds were still raw, but they had gradually slipped into their familiar routines. Their dinners found a new regularity, and after some time had passed - weeks? months? a year? Kathryn wasn't sure - those dinners were no longer painful. They could be alone together without being consumed by their mutual desire to be together. That pain they once felt had evolved into a love that was deeper, more powerful, more profound than the love they had first discovered and awakened on New Earth.

However, there had been occasions when Chakotay had lost sight of the bigger picture. When he forgot that it wasn't just Kathryn and Chakotay, but rather an entire ship. An entire crew; whose lives were depending on them keeping level heads. His lapses came mostly after one of them had been faced with death or individual peril of some kind, and he responded by storming into her Ready Room or waking her up in the middle of the night to tell her that she was being foolish; that love conquers all, and their love would be able to stand up against the pressures of space.

After their shuttlecraft had crashed and Kathryn had "died" while an alien attempted to lure her into his matrix, for example. That night… that was the most fragile he had ever been. All she wanted to do was take the broken pieces of his heart and put them back together again. It had been incredibly difficult to walk away from him that night, but it also reaffirmed her fears: that they wouldn't be able to keep level heads while the other one was in danger, and, out here in the Delta Quadrant, danger was their only constant.

He had disagreed entirely. He told her that the experience was a reminder that their years together were finite, and she was consciously throwing away a lifetime of happiness in favor of a lifetime of loneliness – no matter how long or short that lifetime was.

His lapses didn't come often, and the rest of the time he was perfectly content with the depth of their friendship. Well, perhaps not perfectly content, but content. And when it did happen, she steeled herself and handled him tenderly; waited for it to pass.

Kathryn always remained calm and in control. She was his captain, too, after all, and she owed him as much. She remained calm and in control until she was out of sight, alone, and then she allowed herself to weep for him – until all her tears were shed and her fragments of weakness stripped away, leaving nothing but duty in its place.

But… lately she was finding it more and more difficult to keep her feelings locked away in a box; lately her heart was yearning for him. Her soul, if such a thing exists. And her head just wouldn't shut up about it.

He opened his mouth to continue talking but she shook her head and he stopped.

Kathryn cautiously took a step towards him and saw the mistiness in his eyes, and she let the invisible walls crumble a little. She took his hand in hers and squeezed tightly. They stood there like that, holding hands, in silence, for what seemed like days. Their gazes locked onto each other and Kathryn allowed her eyes to transmit to him the depths of emotion she wouldn't dare let stumble out of her lips. The birds chirped in chorus and their hearts pounded in sync. When she felt tears well up in her own eyes, she slowly removed her hand and let it run up the length of his arm until her palm was resting against his chest, over his heart. A familiar gesture; it was a silent vow, an unspoken oath, a secret pledge – its promises known only to them.

Then, in another heartbreakingly familiar scene, Kathryn turned and walked away.

…

"What're you working on, Seven?" the child asked from her perch atop a console.

Seven looked up at Naomi Wildman and replied, "I am gathering data."

"Data about what?"

"About space."

"What about space?"

She paused before answering. "I am searching for any form of discrepancy to what we have already ascertained about this sector of the quadrant." She formulated the answer that held the most promise of silencing the child.

Naomi cocked her head. "What have we already ascertained about this sector of the quadrant?"

Of course, Seven had made miscalculations in the past – when it came to humans, not when it came to actual arithmetic.

"Naomi Wildman, why have you left your collective?

"You are my collective."

Before the former drone could offer a rebuttal, something caught her eye. A discrepancy. She moved to investigate, but Harry's voice came over the intercom first.

"Seven – are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

…

It was a long walk from the holodeck to the Bridge.

She was tired. Exhausted. Not from lack of sleep; that was normal. It was nothing some coffee couldn't fix. If it wasn't Chakotay keeping her up at night, it was a different problem.

She grimaced at the thought; Chakotay wasn't a problem. Chakotay… Chakotay was a solution. Her solution. Her solution to forty years of heartbreak and perpetually unfulfilled dreams. And he was never more than a few feet away from her, yet always out of reach.

She was tired. Tired of pretending not to care. Tired of holding him back when she should be holding him close. Tired of waiting for their return to Earth; tired of sacrificing the present for a future that might never come.

Sometimes, before bed, she would press herself against the wall that separated their quarters and strain to listen to the sound of his movement. Most nights there came a brief period of silence on the other side of the wall, and she imagined he was pressed up against his side, straining to hear her activity. Sometimes she could swear she heard a sigh when no noise came.

And it was at those moments when Kathryn briefly wished for another life, a different reality; one where she was allowed to love and be loved, one where she was never sent to capture the man pressed up against the other side of the wall. But in that reality, she still wouldn't have Chakotay. She would have someone, perhaps, but not him. She would never have known him.

And if the alternative was no Chakotay at all, she would choose this reality every time.

She took a deep breath as the turbolift came to a halt, readying herself. She strolled onto the bridge like she was entering her living room, uniform pressed and not a single hair dared step out of line. Any residual self-loathing that had been brought about by her dreams and encounter with Chakotay on the holodeck dissipated when her smile met the smiles of her bridge crew.

Harry arose from the captain's chair and hid the disappointment on his face poorly; she was arriving almost an hour and a half before her duty shift, but she had no intention of cutting short Harry's command time.

"Relax, Ensign Kim," she said with her palm raised. "I woke up much too early and with nothing better to do with my time, I am off to catch up on some reports in my Ready Room. I'll see you when your duty shift is over," she said with a warm smile.

"Actually, Captain, I was just about to comm you. We picked up a disturbance on subspace bands a little while ago, and we altered course just slightly to be able to pick it up on long-range sensors. Verteron emanations, tunneling secondary particles-"

"A wormhole!" Janeway already knew where this was going and she followed Harry over to his usual station.

"It's a bit of a detour, about four parsecs, but it's looks promising."

"Alter course, Harry." She put a hand on his shoulder. "There isn't a wormhole out there small enough to get past our Harry Kim. When we get back to the Alpha Quadrant you might consider focusing your whole career on them."

Harry beamed. "Thank you, Captain."

"I am still going to head to my Ready Room and read over the latest Voyager news. Call me if there are any significant changes in the readings, and, if not, I'll see you again at 0800." Harry nodded dutifully.

She waited until the doors shut behind her before she sank deeply into her chair. There was a mountain of information to get through. She tapped her fingers on her desk and absently allowed her mind wander, and when she felt it wandering back to her first officer, she grabbed a PADD and started reading furiously.

…

"Are wormholes really rare or something?" asked Naomi.

"No," Seven replied. "They are not. The Borg have witnessed tens of thousands. Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just everyone gets so excited about them… If they're not super special, then why do we care so much?"

Seven looked at Naomi proudly, pleased she had seen and called out the illogicality that ran rampant around her. "The crew is hopeful that we will encounter a wormhole that leads to the Alpha Quadrant."

"Do you think we will?"

"The likelihood of that occurring is 345633—"

"I get it, I get it. It's a big number. Sometimes I think people are too focused on getting to the Alpha Quadrant." Naomi paused with youthful contemplation, then added, "We should just enjoy the day."

"I agree," Seven replied, her focus honed in on the scans before her. The readings were fluctuating rather oddly… perhaps there was something unique about this particular anomaly.

The child sighed. "But if we get home, then the captain and commander can finally be in love."

Seven looked up again sharply, jostled unexpectedly from her thoughts. "Why do you say this?" she questioned.

Naomi shrugged. "My mom says that there is some kind of rule about captains getting involved with their sub-sub…"

"Subordinates," Seven supplied.

"Right. That. And my mom says I'm just being silly but I think it's clear that they want to be in love. And I think she thinks it, too, but she doesn't want to tell me. She probably thinks it's too grown-up for me. But… if they do want to be in love, they can't do anything about it until they are back home, right?"

"That is a correct assessment."

"Maybe that's why the captain is so excited to get home. So she can live happily ever after," Naomi offered simply.

Seven met Naomi's eyes thoughtfully. "Perhaps."

…

She was almost through all of the PADDs when she heard Harry's frantic voice come over the intercom.

"Captain," he forced out breathlessly, "something is coming through the wormhole. A photon torpedo is coming through the wormhole. It's still too far away to get a clear visual on but-" she was already up and headed towards the door "-but it's- it's.. you're not going to believe this-"

She was on the bridge.

Tom had arrived and taken over at the helm and she stood behind him. "On the viewscreen," she demanded. "Maximum magnification."

Sure enough, she watched as the torpedo, barely a glowing pebble on the screen, exploded just outside of the mouth of the wormhole.

"Captain, there's a vessel emerging."

The turbolift doors opened and Chakotay and Tuvok walked onto the bridge just in time to hear Harry stutter out, "There is too much subspace interference to get a reading on that ship, but that torpedo... I- I think it was a Federation torpedo."

Chakotay furrowed his eyebrows and Tuvok raised one of his as they took in the situation playing out on the viewscreen.

"Harry, what do you mean you think?" Janeway asked without taking her eyes off the ship that was slowly arriving in their side of space. It was still much too small to see any real detail. Chakotay, wide-eyed, sat down silently in his chair.

"I don't understand what I'm reading. It's unlike any Federation signature I've seen before, yet it's definitely a Federation signature, but the photon radiation... it's... outdated," Harry offered. "If that's a Federation ship, it's not adhering to weapons regulations."

Janeway crossed her arms, her focus still on the screen. "There's no other ship; who are they firing at?"

"They don't appear to be firing at anyone, Captain."

Chakotay turned his focus from the viewscreen to the computer next to his seat. "The ship seems to have come to an all-stop."

"The ship seems to be involuntarily stuck at the mouth of the wormhole," Tuvok cooly corrected. "The opening is closing on the ship, and it would appear that they are attempting to reverse back into the anomaly. My readings indicate it is losing structural integrity. Its hull will breach in 6.53 minutes."

"Full impulse, Tom. Get us within tractor range. We'll worry about who they are later; just get that ship out of there!" Janeway ordered, taking her seat next to Chakotay.

Chakotay continued to look at his computer. "We're going to need all the power we can get. That ship is fighting with everything it's got and not moving a millimeter."

"Janeway to Engineering," she said with a tap of her comm-badge. Her eyes remained glued to the tiny ship. "B'Elanna, we need everything you can possibly give to that tractor beam."

"Understood, Captain. Shutting down all nonessential systems and re-routing power to the beam."

Janeway, unable to remain seated, stood up and moved again towards the viewscreen. "Tom, the moment we lock onto that ship, take us into full reverse. We don't know where that ship came from and we don't want to risk getting pulled into the wormhole with it."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll put the pedal to the metal."

"Seven to the Bridge," the Borg's voice came over the intercom. "Captain, I am reading an influx of chroniton particles radiating from the vessel."

With this development, the Captain felt her stomach flop for the second time this morning. The mystery ship had more than likely been temporally displaced.

"Acknowledged." Janeway looked back and locked eyes with Chakotay, who cocked a grin and sighed. Here we go again, she thought.

The crew watched in awe as the vessel came quickly, finally, into visual range. It was clearly Federation. When the markings became visible, every heart in the room stopped. Janeway put a hand on Tom's shoulder to keep steady. It was still fuzzy, but the crew could make out its label: U.S.S. Enterprise.

The tractor beam locked onto the Enterprise and there was a jolt as Tom put Voyager in full reverse. It was Harry that excitedly voiced the crew's hopes, "Starfleet must have found a way to reach us... And they sent none-other than Picard and the flagship of the Federation to bring us home."

"There is insufficient evidence to support that hypothesis, Ensign," Tuvok countered. "They are experiencing some degree of temporal displacement, and it would be a direct violation of the Temporal Prime Directive to send a ship backward in time to retrieve us. I do not believe Starfleet would allow such an action. I recommend we delay idle speculation until we have something tangible to speculate about."

Janeway watched as the ship began to pull away from the swirling lights of the verteron emanations. Within moments, the anomaly disappeared and the ship came into full view at their port bow. Her entire body tightened. Chakotay felt himself tense up with her, but he didn't know why. The commander studied the back of her head and waited for some kind of verbal response to what they were seeing.

"No," she said barely audibly, "that's not Picard."