Part 3
May 2356 (Kathryn Janeway is nineteen and finishing her second year at the academy)
Kathryn Janeway was perhaps the closest thing to a perfect Starfleet cadet that had ever darkened the Academy's front gate. She was brilliant, setting the curve in every class she took, whether it was history, literature, mathematics, or physics. She was dedicated, attending every class, lab, and study session, acing the tests, turning in perfect homework assignments, and managing to complete all the extra credit assignments, too. She was a well-rounded cadet who did more than just focus on academics, however. She was captain of the velocity team, a tour-guide for prospective cadets, and an up-and-coming officer in her squadron.
While Kathryn was the darling of the faculty and administration, she wasn't quite as popular with the student body. They resented the fact that she made them look bad by comparison, even though she was friendly, down-to-earth, and fun to be around, thanks to a scathing wit and an infectious laugh. She earned the nickname of "Admiral Cadet," because everyone knew that was her ultimate goal—to be the first member of the class to make admiral.
She knew that the other cadets had mixed feelings about her, but she didn't let that get in her way. She'd listened to her father discuss the loneliness and isolation of command enough to know that this alienation was something she would have to get used to feeling. She also knew that those who knew her well, the team members and study partners, appreciated her quirky sense of humor and dedication to their group effort. She had many friends, good friends, and didn't let her public reputation (good or bad) influence her behavior.
One of the best things that happened to her at the academy had happened purely by accident. She had been assigned a perfect friend as a roommate her freshman year.
Anna Clarence was a fellow Starfleet brat who had been through most of the same experiences that Kathryn had. However, Anna had grown up in space, dividing her time between school on a star base and vacations on a starship where her father was a transporter chief. Her life experience made her much more sympathetic with Kathryn's background, because she knew, first hand, that it wasn't easy to have a parent in Starfleet. Anna soon learned, though, that having a father who was an admiral multiplied the problem tenfold.
On graduation day at the end of their sophomore year and the two of them were preparing for the ceremony.
"You know that no sophomore has ever won the Daystrom Science Medal, don't you?" Anna lay on her bunk watching Kathryn as she brushed her hair and then fastened her tunic. "In fact, only one junior has ever won it, and he was a Vulcan."
"That's what Admiral Paris told me." Kathryn tugged at the collar of the tunic and then smoothed her hands down the front.
"To think that my roomie just made history!" Anna laughed at the face Kathryn made in the mirror. "I knew you when. Someday they'll interview me to find out if you were ever really human."
"Just don't tell any of my secrets, or I'll tell some of yours!"
"Deal." Anna stood up and frowned at the wrinkles in her own uniform. "What did Admiral Janeway say when you told him about the Daystrom medal?"
Kathryn turned away, toying with the items on her dresser that had yet to be boxed up for the summer and trying to hide the dismay that the question created within. "He said he was proud of me, of course."
"But," Anna continued, "he isn't coming."
There was a long period of silence before Kathryn finally answered, "They're at a critical point in the negotiations."
"Is there a point during negations that isn't critical?" When Kathryn slumped against the desk in obvious distress, Anna regretted her sarcastic tone. "Oh, hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
"You'd think I'd be used to it by now. I can't remember the last time Dad came to something like this."
"My dad, either. Still, we hope the future will be better, don't we? We keep thinking that eventually our luck will change, that maybe, one time, we won't be disappointed."
"I guess so." Kathryn studied her hands and then stood up straight, pulling her tunic down and lifting her chin in defiance. "Well, I shouldn't be doing these things to impress him. I should do them for myself."
"Exactly. You'll have your pick of assignments when we graduate, and all the rest of us will be green with envy."
Kathryn's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I'm going to ask Admiral Paris to be my sponsor."
"Oh, brother." Anna was well aware of Paris's crotchety reputation. "You are a glutton for punishment."
As they left their rooms and headed for the commencement ceremony, many of her classmates gave Janeway a sympathetic look. They knew that she worked hard because she didn't want to let her family down. She came from a long line of successful Starfleet officers, none more successful than her father, and it was obvious that she worshiped him and wanted very much to gain his attention and approval. No one blamed her for it, for many Starfleet brats were driven by the same need. The service occupied the attention of most officers to the detriment of their families; as a result, the children either rejected Starfleet completely or joined it with the determination to win their absent parent's approval.
Anna was not surprised to see that Gretchen and Phoebe Janeway were in the crowd that afternoon, cheering Kathryn on. Nor was she surprised at the way Kathryn's eyes kept shifting to the edges of the crowd, looking for her father, even though she knew he was light years away.
When the ceremony was over and the two cadets returned to their rooms to finish packing, Anna grew quiet as she felt sorry for her roommate.
"Remember that discussion we had in ancient Earth history about hope?"
Kathryn nodded. "The Greeks said that 'hope' was one of the evils that Pandora released onto the world. We really had Carrie Newsome going in circles about that one." She took a stance and did a decent imitation of their classmate's Southern drawl, "'But hope is a good thing. Right?'"
"So you told her that hope was a thing with feathers, which almost brought her to tears."
"Yeah, that was fun."
"Have you decided whether hope is a bad or good thing?"
"I think we have to hope for a better future, don't we?" Kathryn replied. "Otherwise, how do we keep going?"
"I suppose so, but getting your hopes up just increases your chances for disappointment. Don't you think so?"
Kathryn was so surprised by Anna's comment, she dropped a small mirror to the floor, its fragments spraying around her feet.
"Don't move. I'll get a broom." Anna headed for the door, pausing long enough to give Kathryn an impish grin. "Try not to think about having seven years of bad luck because of this."
When the glass was cleaned up and their last of their belongings were packed away, Kathryn sat down on the bed for one last conversation.
"You asked me if I didn't agree that hope increases the chances for disappointment. I think it probably does, but I also know that I can't live without hope. I've learned this trick: when I'm disappointed, I just keep focusing on the future, keep moving forward like a shark. That way, soon enough, the disappointment becomes part of the past, and hope lives on in what tomorrow might bring."
Anna raised a brow. "And that works for you?"
"Not really, but it sounds good."
"My technique is to just stop hoping for anything good. That way, if it happens, I'm not just happy, I'm surprised."
Kathryn grinned. "Maybe I should adopt that plan, instead."
* * * * *
June 2379 (18 months after Voyager's return)
"You can't complain, Kathryn. You gave up the chance for another ship. You didn't want to be disappointed when they didn't offer you the best one in the fleet—or the one you thought you deserved—so you just took yourself out of the running."
Kathryn gave her sister a confused look. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm saying that you should have held out for another ship instead of giving up and taking the promotion."
"Phoebe, I would hardly call accepting a promotion to admiral 'giving up''"
"I know better." Phoebe smiled inwardly at the scowl on Kathryn's face. "Why did you do it? Were you afraid you'd be assigned a bucket of bolts after having captained a state-of-art ship like Voyager?"
Kathryn ignored her.
"Were you afraid you'd have problems finding a crew that would put up with you?"
"Phoebe, you don't know what you're talking about, so shut up."
"Don't I?" She shifted so that she was facing her sister who was seated at the opposite end of the sofa. "Aren't you the one who always says that setting one's expectations too high just leads to disappointment?"
"That's hardly an earth-shattering observation."
"It seems to me that the corollary to that thought is the motto of your life—lower your expectations, and you won't be disappointed."
"Who are you kidding? I've never lowered my expectations about my career." Kathryn looked up and narrowed her eyes. "As soon as you explain how being promoted to admiral is lowering my expectations, I'll start listening."
Gretchen, who had been reading the Fed News at a nearby communications unit, looked up and laughed softly. "She has you there, Phoebe, but nice try."
The three Janeway women were relaxing in Kathryn's apartment in San Francisco where Gretchen had come to recover following an emergency medical procedure to repair injuries she suffered in a hover car accident.
"Katie's an overachiever when it comes to her career," Phoebe agreed. "And she seems to think that success at work will make up for what she doesn't have in her personal life."
"Meaning what?" Kathryn demanded.
Phoebe gestured at the apartment. "Living alone like a nun, for one thing."
"I have an active social life," she disagreed, struggling to keep her temper.
"I'm talking personal life, not social life." Phoebe shook her head sadly. "Not since you lost Justin have you really let yourself have high hopes about your personal life."
"Your memory fails you. I was engaged to Mark Johnson."
"True. But Mark didn't exactly light your fire, did he? He was a safe choice."
"I think that's enough, Phoebe." Gretchen struggled to stand up, accepting help from Kathryn with gratitude. "Who are you to judge your sister?"
"Someone who loves and cares about her enough to tell her the truth, that's who I am."
"Just because you think something is true doesn't mean that it is," Gretchen replied. "I'm telling you to back off. Now."
"Oh, okay." Phoebe checked the clock. "It's time for me to call home anyway."
Kathryn helped her mother settle into a recliner and tucked a blanket around her legs.
"Can I get you anything, Mom? A cup of tea? Some toast?"
"Nothing right now, darling. I'm fine."
Kathryn returned to her seat on the sofa and stared blindly out the window, lost in thought. "You know, Phoebe probably has a point, to a certain degree. Maybe I do lower my expectations for my personal life to avoid being let down when things don't work out."
"In what way?"
"It's true that my relationship with Mark was not as passionate as what Justin and I shared."
"Every relationship is different, Katie. And who's to say that you and Justin wouldn't have become less passionate over the years."
Kathryn's face grew thoughtful. "There are so many elements that are beyond one's control when one is dating a person."
"What elements are you thinking of?"
"They might decide they don't want to stay involved with you. Or they may decide to put their career first. Or they could disappear for seven years while piloting a ship." She took a deep breath. "Or they could move on with someone else in your rightful place."
"Mark thought you were dead, Katie."
"I know, and I've forgiven him long ago. But losing Justin and Mark may have made me decide not to take that risk again."
"I think that you just haven't met the right man. When you do, you'll risk everything to be with him."
Before Kathryn could answer, Phoebe dashed into the room and plopped down at the communications panel, pulling up her link with her family a moment later. "Mom. Katie. You have to hear Elliot's tuba solo. David says it sounds like a moose in heat, but I think it's wonderful."
While Kathryn listened to her nephew play, she did some self-study. It was true that before she was trapped in the Delta Quadrant, she had dreamed of having a husband and children by this time in her life. However, fate had intervened and forced her to let those hopes go. She hadn't thought of it as "settling for less" until Phoebe had made such a big deal out of it, and she wondered if maybe Phoebe had a point.
She had lowered her expectations after she realized that Voyager would be stuck in the Delta Quadrant for an extended period of time. She did so because she was being practical, realistic, and sensible about her prospects. What good would it do to continue to daydream about a husband, house, and children when the chances of getting them grew slimmer every year? She would just be setting herself up for a big disappointment. That was surviving, not giving up. Wasn't it?
Later that night, after Gretchen was asleep in Kathryn's room, Phoebe crept out of the study, where she had been tossing and turning on the sofa, and joined her sister in the living room. Kathryn, of course, was working into the wee hours of the morning before she curled up on her recliner for a few hours of sleep.
"I thought you would still be awake," Phoebe said as she sat down on the sofa. "I can't believe how late you stay up."
"A bad habit I picked up on Voyager. Why aren't you asleep? Is something wrong?"
"I just thought I should apologize for some of the things I said earlier."
"About my promotion?" Kathryn smiled. "You made some good points, as you often do. And I am used to your teasing ways. In fact, I missed them in the Delta Quadrant."
"Well, I didn't mean to imply that becoming an admiral isn't a great achievement, because it is." She pulled a blanket around her shoulders. "I just thought that you must have had something in mind for yourself when you thought of home—something more than a promotion."
"I didn't let myself hope anything except to get the crew home and see them happy, at last. I thought that would be enough."
"You've always done that--settled for less. You always think of ways to excuse others instead of taking care of yourself."
Kathryn stared at her sister in amazement. "What are you talking about?"
"When Dad let us down time and again by missing birthdays, recitals, award ceremonies, everything, did you ever once get mad and throw a fit?"
"What good would that do? Daddy wasn't there to see it, and Mom was already upset enough."
"I think you got too used to repressing your disappointment, Katie. It seems to me that you thought it was your lot in life to be let down, time and again, by those you loved."
Kathryn looked down at the PADD she'd been reading, hoping that her sister couldn't see the distress her words caused. When a tear splashed on her hand, she hastened to brush it away as surreptitiously as possible before Phoebe caught on. Clearing her throat, she said, "I always tried to do what I thought was right and best for everyone involved. I didn't think Dad ever let me down unless it was for something important, and I didn't want Mom to feel worse than she already did."
"You did what a proper Starfleet officer should do, regardless of your feelings."
"Yes, I did." Kathryn took a deep breath and looked her sister in the eye. "What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing if you're a Starfleet officer. But what if you're six years old? What if you refuse to deal with your own feelings about being disappointed?"
"I cried many a tear about those times, Phoebe. I just didn't make a spectacle of myself."
"So you are a great Starfleet officer. Obviously. But, I wonder about the person inside the uniform. Why not have some hopes for her happiness once Voyager was home?"
"I suppose I just thought my personal life would fall into place without much effort."
"And has it fallen into place to your satisfaction?"
Kathryn grimaced. "I probably should put a little more effort into that."
"Good answer. You went all out for what you wanted from your Starfleet career, pulled out all the stops, and here you are, an admiral. When did you stop doing the same thing in your personal life?"
For a long moment, the two sisters stared at each other, and then, before Kathryn could blame the Caretaker again, they heard their mother's voice from the other room asking for help to the bathroom.
Phoebe stood up. "It's my turn, I think. I just don't want you to be unhappy, Katie, and I think we both know that a career is not enough for you. I've never known you to be without male companionship, not until Voyager returned, and I hope you start looking for a compatible partner again."
"I will, Phoebs. Promise."
"I hope so." She started down the hallway. "I'm on my way, Mom."
Kathryn watched her leave and grinned, muttering, "I needed my sister's common sense on Voyager." She picked up the PADD again, accessed her mail account, and accepted an invitation to a former classmate's retirement party. "There. The next time Phoebe hassles me, I can tell her I'm back out there."
* * * * *
U.S.S. Voyager, Delta Quadrant (about year five)
"I'll take the bridge, Captain, so you can spend our last few hours on the planet."
Kathryn Janeway looked up from the PADD she had been reviewing and shook her head. "That's all right, Commander. The engineers are still in the process of integrating the new injectors, and I want to stick around to monitor the process."
Chakotay frowned. "I'm sure B'Elanna is capable of doing that without you."
"Oh, she is. I'm just double checking her work."
"It could be awhile before we find another planet so close to Earth's environment."
"Too bad for me." She activated the console between their bridge seats and watched the telemetry from engineering scroll across the screen. "In this case, the ship takes precedence."
He narrowed his eyes, trying to decide how hard to push her while on the bridge. The captain was notorious for putting duty before pleasure, but he truly believed that some time away from the ship on an earth-like planet might be just what she needed to keep from . . . well, to help her keep her sanity.
He leaned toward her and said, softly, "It would do you a lot of good to get some fresh air and sunshine. You're the only person from the crew not to take a few hours off."
Kathryn stiffened slightly and gave him a warning look. However, before she could reply, B'Elanna spoke up from the bridge's engineering station. "I appreciate your help, Captain, but you really should visit the planet. I was on the coast, and the white sand beaches were wonderful. They also had a coffee-type drink that you would love."
"Mr. Kim brought me an ample supply," she replied. "I'm sure that will be adequate."
Tom Paris swiveled to face her from his seat at the helm. "They also have a nut pie that you'd like. It's so close to pecan pie, you can close your eyes and imagine you're in Georgia."
"I'm sure it's memorable, Mr. Paris, but we've been here long enough. I'll just do without."
"It wouldn't hurt if we spent a few extra hours running diagnostics on the injectors," B'Elanna chimed in. "Better to do it here than a few hundred lights years away, and you could spend an afternoon relaxing somewhere nice."
Kathryn stood up and put her hands on her hips. "I appreciate the thought, people, but I am not going to delay our departure just to walk on a beach and sample pecan pie. Continue the work with the injectors, Lieutenant, and I will monitor your progress from the peace and quiet of my ready room." She turned and gave Chakotay a level look. "Commander, you have the bridge."
Once she disappeared into her inner sanctum, the bridge crew sighed in relief.
"We've been here nearly a week," Harry commented, "and she hasn't taken some time off to visit the planet?"
"She was on the planet for the initial negotiations for supplies and shore leave," Chakotay answered. "I'm sure she even toured some of their facilities when looking for compatible equipment."
"That's work, not pleasure." Tom turned to face the first officer. "Every single crew member got a few hours, even a day or two, away from the ship. It's done us all a lot of good."
"And Janeway could use the time away," Torres finished. "Her temper has been shorter than a dwarf Ferengi."
"I tried to convince her to go down there, you heard me," Chakotay argued. "Tuvok tried, too. She wouldn't go then, and she isn't going now. Accept that and move on."
The bridge crew returned to work in silence, leaving Chakotay with his thoughts.
Day six at Tzarus, and Chakotay was busy monitoring the crew's shore leave and also making sure that enough people were on board to receive, catalog, and store the supplies they'd purchased. He checked the transport log and frowned.
"Tuvok, did the captain cancel her shore leave again?" He turned in his bridge seat to look at the Vulcan. "Or did someone in transporter control just forget to register her departure."
"I believe the captain is in engineering."
Chakotay wilted. He put aside the PADD and slowly wound his way to the upper deck and Tuvok's security station where they could talk without being overheard by the rest of the crew. "This is the third time she's missed her shore leave."
"I will be surprised if she returns to the surface for anything other than official duties."
"Why?"
"Why do I believe that?"
"Why won't she take her shore leave? She's done more to earn a vacation than any other member of the crew."
"She would disagree with that assessment."
"She works non-stop. There are days when I am sure she doesn't even go to bed."
Tuvok nodded. "I concur."
"I should talk to her about it."
"I already have, Commander, with no success."
Chakotay crossed his arms and leaned against the security console. "Why is she like this? What happened to 'rank has its privileges'?"
"Captain Janeway has never been the type of captain to take advantage of her position. She sets the example for others and is uncomfortable asking members of her crew to do more than she does."
"But her example should include taking care of herself, shouldn't it?"
Tuvok's response was to arch an eyebrow.
"We have a day or two left. Maybe she'll change her mind."
"I wouldn't hope for that, Commander."
"The future is the realm of hope, Lieutenant."
Here he was, two days later, and the captain had not changed her mind. Chakotay was still contemplating his options when Neelix burst onto the bridge dressed in the typical festive wear of the Tzari. The feathers in his headdress were purple, gold, pink, and orange, and were only slightly less colorful than the caftan that flowed around his rotund body. He carried a large platter over his head that contained a covered dish and a smoking carafe of some sort of liquid. Worse, he was singing the Tzari tune that had been blaring in every market, hotel, and restaurant on the planet.
"Mr. Neelix!" Chakotay exclaimed. "Please follow bridge protocol!"
"We're in orbit," the Talaxian replied, trying to mask his disappointment. He lowered the tray and nodded toward the ready room. "I brought a few delicacies for the captain's enjoyment."
Chakotay's eyes wandered from the tray to Tuvok's face. "Well, if we can't get her to enjoy Tzarus, I suppose we can bring some of Tzarus to her. Go ahead, Neelix. The captain is in the ready room."
His face bright with anticipation, Neelix resumed his trip across the bridge, this time merely humming the festive tune, and was quickly admitted to the captain's private office.
"Good luck," Chakotay muttered under his breath as he, and everyone else on the bridge, waited for the morale officer to reappear with his caftan tucked between his legs.
Long moments passed with no reaction, and soon the work on the bridge took priority. After thirty minutes had passed, Chakotay realized that the Talaxian must have left the ready room via the alternate doorway.
"Commander Chakotay, please report to the ready room."
"On my way." Every eye was on the first officer as he stood up and handed the conn to Tuvok.
"Come in, Commander," the captain ordered. She was seated on the sofa in the upper level, Neelix's tray on the table in front of her. "Were you in on this?"
"No, Captain." The tray contained an assortment of canapés that Chakotay had tasted on his shore leave and a delicate flute of green wine that had been much too expensive for him to sample. "It looks delicious."
"Oh, it is." She leaned forward and picked up a delicate chain with a sparkling pendant. "And this looks to be a flawless diamond. Neelix swears it is not manufactured."
Chakotay whistled. "Nice necklace."
"It seems it is their custom to bid farewell to visiting ships by inviting the captain and her escort for a formal meal on some remote island. They would be grievously insulted if I refuse."
Chakotay repressed a smile. "That will give B'Elanna time to run a few test on the injectors."
Kathryn scowled and leaned back to study his face. "I don't want to go. I thought maybe you could stand in for me."
"Afraid not. They know you're the captain." He waited a beat. "Besides, you can use the break."
"I'll be working."
"And that makes a difference to you, for some reason?" He shook his head. "You can't just go to the surface to enjoy yourself?"
She blinked in surprise. "I guess it does, and, before you ask, I don't know why."
He joined her on the sofa, picking up one of the canapés and studying it. "You think you don't deserve it."
"Is that it?"
"I do." He popped the treat into his mouth. "You never let us throw you a birthday party, and you don't even want a nominal gift."
"Maybe I don't like to be reminded of my advancing age?"
He grinned, but disagreed. "No, you just think that the kinds of enjoyable events the rest of us take for granted are in some way too much for you personally."
"Those events are over-emphasized. Making a big deal of things is one way that children get spoiled."
"How can a small birthday party spoil a child?"
"It just makes them think they are the center of the universe, that's all." To his surprise, Kathryn stood up abruptly and started for the door, as if something he'd said had upset her. "I don't have time to discuss this at the moment, Commander. My escort, Mr. Neelix, is bringing my ceremonial robes to my quarters, and we are expected to arrive on the planet within the hour."
"Be sure to get a picture, okay?"
Kathryn laughed, "Not on your life, Mister." They walked onto the bridge. "This will take about four hours, Commander. I want to be leaving orbit the moment Neelix and I beam back aboard."
"Aye, Captain."
After she left the bridge, Tom turned and, with a grin, said, "So Neelix's ploy worked?"
"Ploy?" Chakotay laughed. "Well, he is the morale officer."
"Yeah, and the captain taking a few hours off will help everyone's morale."
"Everyone's morale but hers," Chakotay thought to himself.
* * * * *
December 2379 (two years after Voyager's return)
"How goes the manhunt?" Phoebe asked.
Kathryn sighed. "All the good ones have been taken."
The sisters were relaxing in a hotel room near Sandrine's in France. Some of Voyager's crew showed up there each year on the anniversary of the ship's return, and this year Phoebe had come along for the festivities.
"Kathryn, you've just started looking."
"I started six months ago, and in that time, I've had two dozen first dates."
"Two dozen?" Phoebe chuckled. "You have been busy."
"Half of them wanted to write an article about my Delta Quadrant experiences. The other half wanted to join my staff—with benefits, of course."
"And the third half?" Phoebe joked.
"Wanted in my bed, of course." She winked. "Actually, all of them wanted that."
"Of course." Phoebe stretched out on the bed and yawned. She'd arrived on Earth the day before and was tired. "What's the real problem?"
Kathryn pulled a mug of coffee from the replicator and took a long sip. "It starts with my advanced age. Most men my age are more interested in younger women, and the number of men older than I am is dwindling on a daily basis."
"You're only 47."
"Exactly." Kathryn sat down in the overstuffed chair and put her feet up on the side of the bed. "And there is the Delta Quadrant factor. I quickly discover that the man is more interested in hearing about my adventures in space than in getting to know the real me."
"The price of fame."
"And then there is the whole problem with being an admiral. Most men's egos are damaged when their partner outranks them. And the ones who aren't in Starfleet are intimidated by the rank and the folderol of the service."
Phoebe nodded. "The aides that swarm around you and screen your calls and visitors."
"The press that follows me around, and the meetings with powerful people from all over the Federation."
"Yeah. I can here it now. 'She's with the chief of Starfleet operations this afternoon. Can you call back after five o'clock.'"
"You'd think, after all these years, that men would have gotten over the need to be 'the big cheese' in a relationship."
"And?"
"Travel. They all want to go places, and I've spent all the time I want to spend on a starship for the near future. They are bored with the prospect of a weekend on Earth, while I wonder if I'll ever want to leave again."
"That will change in time, don't you think?"
"Probably. Finally, most of them are interested in just a casual affair, while I am just not the type. I want a long-term, lasting relationship."
"Poor Kathryn." Phoebe pulled back the covers and snuggled into the pillows. "Well, don't give up. There has to be someone out there who can put up with you."
"Yeah. If you found someone, I certainly should be able to."
Phoebe stuck out her tongue at her sister and then closed her eyes. "Just be careful not to overlook the obvious. Ted and I were friends for years before I realized we'd make a good match." She yawned loudly. "I think I'll take a nap before dinner."
"Good idea." Kathryn picked up her book. "I'll just do a little reading."
The hotel was quiet, a small, family-owned inn that Kathryn had discovered soon after Voyager's return. Although Sandrine's was located in a hotel with available rooms, Kathryn preferred to stay here, where it was less likely that her privacy would be invaded by celebrating members of her former crew.
She'd arrived the day before and had spent the previous evening with several other early arrivals. It was an informal gathering, no invitation, and so Kathryn was always surprised and pleased to see so many show up. Last night, there were about fifteen present, including Tom and B'Elanna, Harry and his fiancé, Libby, and, much to her surprise, Chakotay, who had traveled all the way from Trebus, where he'd moved after he'd broken up with Seven of Nine. Two dozen more, including her sister, had arrived that morning in time for a boisterous luncheon.
She had spent much of the prior evening talking to Chakotay in one of the secluded booths. Kathryn put down her book with a smile, remembering how good it had been to see him again in an unofficial capacity. They'd talked without pause for nearly four hours, often laughing until tears ran down their faces, sometimes feeling sad enough to cry tears of grief. Others from the crew joined them, occasionally, for a few minutes of conversation, filling them in on their lives, but most of the time they were alone, talking and watching the others playing pool or chatting.
"It's good to see them together again, isn't it?" Kathryn said, scanning the room.
"It is," Chakotay agreed. "I didn't realize how much I missed them."
"They were our family for seven years."
"More like children. And we were the stern, all-business parents."
She grinned. "It did seem that way, didn't it? I'm relieved to be able to relax and be myself again."
"I bet you are." He took a sip of his cider. "You seemed to think that you couldn't, or shouldn't, relax and be yourself on Voyager."
"You know the Starfleet way: Duty first."
"Not to mention that you were under tremendous pressure. But I wish you would—" he stopped and shook his head. "Oh, never mind."
"No, please, tell me." She covered his hand with hers. "Admirals have a hard time finding people who will be honest with them."
"Okay, you asked for it." He took a deep breath. "You have a hard time accepting the accolades you deserve or being the center of attention, and I have a hard time figuring out why."
"My accolades, as you call them, are really the result of the work of my crew. I don't want to get the glory when they should be getting the credit, not me."
"But they do get the credit—through you. The crew follows your lead, and when their loyalty results in your promotion, they should be allowed to bask in your successes."
"I never thought of it that way." She frowned. "In that case, I should have had a big blow-out for my promotion."
"Yes, you should have. I was very disappointed that you didn't even tell me about it."
"You were?"
He nodded. "I would have been there, with bells on. And I'm sure that others feel the same way."
"I'm sorry, then. I should have invited everyone, because all of you contributed to my success."
"You don't like that, though." He studied her. "You really don't like being the center of attention for birthdays or promotions, do you?"
"I guess not. I don't have happy memories about birthdays because," she stopped in surprise. "Well, I just don't."
"Because you were always disappointed with your gifts? Or embarrassed by the attention?"
"Because my dad usually failed to show up," she was shocked when tears filled her eyes. "And, for some reason, his absence spoiled everything."
"Strange, isn't it? How the hurts and sorrows of childhood can actually influence us for the rest of our lives?"
She blushed. "It seems silly, doesn't it?"
He grinned. "In some ways. We all do it, but isn't it a shame when we let those childhood disappointments rob us of the joy that comes along during the rest of our lives?"
"It is a shame," she agreed, wishing that she could rewrite her past and determined to change her future. "From this day forward, I have no intention of missing any more joy."
"Attagirl." He winked at her. "Start today. Enjoy the hell out of this reunion weekend."
"I will. And I'll start by kicking Tom Paris's butt at pool."
In the late afternoon shadows, Kathryn found herself chucking. Tom Paris didn't know what hit him as she cleared the table twice before he got a single shot. The crew had cheered and trash talked, and Kathryn had thought her face might split in two from smiling.
All because of Chakotay's wise advice. He always helped her find her balance, always made her feel better about herself. He was her best friend, and she'd missed his presence in her life more than she realized.
She sat up straight in her chair, the book sliding, forgotten, to the floor.
"Chakotay," she murmured, glancing at Phoebe, still fast asleep. "Have I been overlooking the obvious?"
