Janeway looked up from her book as she heard voices outside the cabin to see the Doctor enter, Naomi darting off towards the other cabin. Closing her book she was relieved that they had not returned a few minutes ago – though her door had been closed, log cabins were not known for their soundproofing.

"Back already, Doctor?" said Janeway, swigging coffee like it was going out of fashion.

"Ensign Wildman contacted Naomi, she is about to go off duty and wants her daughter to join her. Naomi has just gone to pack then she'll transport to Voyager. Where's Seven?"

"Asleep," replied the Captain shortly, her tone cutting off any remark that the Doctor might be about to make about Seven's need for sleep, or lack thereof. "See to it that she transports back ok, Doctor."

The EMH went to help Naomi, and Janeway turned as her bedroom door opened. Seven-of-Nine emerged, fully dressed, and stopped, framed by the doorway. Janeway smiled at her, the expression on the blonde's face unreadable.

"Hey, welcome back," greeted Janeway, "you looked so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb you. Are you…feeling okay?"

The Borg gave her characteristic inclination of her head. "I am…well, Captain. I want to thank you for introducing me to another aspect of humanity."

The Captain regarded her intently, searching her face for any hints of deeper emotions, but the Borg remained inscrutable. Janeway wanted to ask what she thought, how it felt, whether she still had concerns, how she felt about Janeway herself, but she couldn't find the words, and even if she could have phrased a question she wasn't sure that she would have asked it anyway. The situation felt awkward, and she was about to change the topic to something more innocent when Seven's comm badge beeped.

"Captain to all Voyager crew. Prepare for return to Voyager immediately. Transport will begin in five minutes. Chakotay out."

Janeway stared at the younger woman's comm badge, not quite believing her ears. Then, realising that her own badge had remained silent, she slapped it forcefully, forgetting it was pinned to her chest and grunting as the air was forced out of a lung.

"Janeway to Chakotay, what's going on? Beam me up, now!"

"Sorry, Captain, I want you to remain on the planet. We're receiving a distress call, and I want to attend with a full crew."

"Dammit, Chakotay-"

"Doctor's orders, Captain. We might be gone a day or two. I'll contact you every four hours to keep you updated. Is there anything you need before we leave orbit?"

Janeway thought for a moment. She had been reading about a Ventosan colony on a nearby 'M'-class moon which sounded worth a visit. "Can you have someone drop off a shuttlecraft for me? I want to do a little exploring."

"Of course. Chakotay out."

Seven-of-Nine had quickly collected her things and was standing by the door holding a pack. Janeway was silent as they waited, and finally Seven's badge beeped again.

"Shore leave group A, prepare for transport."

"Captain -" Seven's words were cut off as the transporter beam energised and she disappeared from sight. Janeway was alone, on a strange though friendly planet, her ship about to depart and her new lover with it. She revised the last thought to 'possible lover', remembering Seven's cool attitude just now. Tempted to simply go to bed, instead she dragged herself up, put on a coat and boots and snatched up a handful of Ventosan currency. Stepping outside she debated which way to go, eventually choosing the path that led to the village.

*************

"So there we were," slurred Janeway, "the array destroyed, surrounded by Kazon, Maquis fighters on my ship…that's how I stranded Voyager in the Delta Quadrant."

Swaying on her stool, Janeway raised a glass aloft, spilling half the contents. "Well done, Kathryn!" She downed the remainder of the bitter, colourless liquid, which was immediately replenished by one of the Ventosan men surrounding her.

"So what did you do with the Maquis?" asked a lanky, young man with the clothing of a farm labourer.

Janeway laughed. "I kept them on board. What else could I do? Oh, there were some – hic – problems at first, but they're my crew now. I love them, love them all…" she tailed off, taking another drink from her glass.

Another of the Ventosans stepped forward, this one short and stocky with dark, neatly-trimmed hair. "Is there a…Mr. Captain Kathryn Janeway?" he asked slyly, and the others laughed raucously.

Janeway held up an unsteady hand, shaking her head. Her normally immaculate hair was in tangles, her shirt awry and splashed with more than one type of drink. She had deactivated her comm badge and stuffed it into a pocket to stop people from pawing at it and she had no idea where her coat was.

"You know, Mr. Ventosan, I can't tell you," she answered, shrugging. "It's a little compi – hic – com-pli-cated." She peered at her glass again. "Captain's Log, stardate who-the-hell-cares, I appear to be out of a drink!"

***********

Janeway awoke, immediately groaning as a piercing headache shot through her skull. There was light shining through the curtained window, and she hauled herself up carefully, looking around. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that she was back in her room in the cabin, and closed her eyes again.

"Computer, what time is it?" she muttered, knowing that she probably needed at least another couple of hours in bed before she could face the world.

"Seven forty-seven morning time," the Ventosan computer replied chirpily. The Captain, trying to ignore the pain that had now settled into a steady thumping in her head, climbed out of bed and, naked, walked across to the bathroom. Activating the sonic shower she stood in a daze for several minutes until the cycle was finished, then out of sheer force of will managed to pull on clean clothing.

As Janeway stepped outside she noticed something she had missed completely the previous night. The Delta Flyer stood off to the left of the cabins, her sleek hull gleaming brilliantly in the morning sun. 'Nice one, Chakotay,' she thought, amazed that he had elected to provide her with Voyager's newest, biggest and fastest shuttlecraft. She walked to the transport site and authorised transport to Dr. Berdan's office, only two minutes late.

The doctor looked up as she materialised and immediately his face wore a mask of concern. Though her clothes and hair were clean, Janeway had a dishevelled appearance, with dark bags under her clouded eyes and a general air of the morning-after. She took her customary seat and leaned her head back, stretching her aching neck muscles.

"Kathryn, what have you been doing," asked Berdan quietly, covering her hands with his in a fatherly manner. Janeway shook her head, wincing as the movement set off another round of explosions in her head. Berdan injected her quickly, and before he had even asked he began to see visions created by Janeway. They were jumbled, but the doctor was experienced at decoding them. Janeway alone in the middle of nowhere. Voyager in trouble, exploding, imploding, fracturing. Seven-of-Nine, naked and clearly dead. The Captain in a bar, men crowding her. Janeway, holding a weapon to her head and pulling the trigger.

Tears coursed down the woman's cheeks but she was silent. Janeway had exhausted her capacity to fight the images she was seeing and simply sat, unmoving. Eventually Berdan pulled away and rose creakily to his feet, walking to a replicator. He brought back two steaming mugs; coffee for Janeway and a mild Ventosan tea for himself.

"Look at me, Kathryn," he said gently, and Janeway complied. "Whatever you might think, you are healing. You're not fighting your fears any more but embracing them. Now it's time for you to open yourself up to my thoughts. But you have to actively intend and want to do that, for the injection not only strengthens your ability to send out your thoughts, it also increases your powers of telepathic resistance. Open your mind, Kathryn, and see my thoughts."

Berdan took her hands again and Janeway closed her eyes. She saw herself alone, then suddenly surrounded by her friends – Chakotay, Tuvok, Seven, Paris, Torres, Kim, the Doctor and more. She smiled a little at the sight of them as they laughed and joked. Then there was Voyager, whole, speeding through space at high warp, then Seven, still naked but very much alive, reaching out to touch her. Janeway tried to hold the image in her mind, seeing her friend's pale, beautiful form just as she had done in reality. She opened her eyes and looked at the Ventosan doctor.

"There's no instant cure, Kathryn, but this is a good start. I've implanted a suggestion in your mind that will help you to process your fears and negative thoughts into something that more closely approaches reality, or better than reality. When you feel you are about to lose control, draw on the strength inside you, use it. Tell me though, why did you hold that weapon to your head?"

Janeway shifted uncomfortably in her chair, looking away. "I hurt Seven-of-Nine, I don't remember it but there was blood on her collar," she answered finally.

"Describe her injury," prompted the doctor, leaning forward intently.

"I – I didn't see it. Our Doctor had already healed it." She smiled ruefully. "I suppose that's your point, isn't it?"

Berdan smiled back. Janeway was an intriguing patient, he thought, feeling just a little bit sorry for Voyager's Chief Medical Officer.

***************

It wasn't until Janeway had returned to the cabin that she realised she hadn't reactivated her comm badge. Not that it mattered; Voyager would be out of its range by now and Chakotay would no doubt have sent any communication to the computer console in the cabin. She sat in front of it, feeling decidedly more human than she had since she awoke earlier.

"Computer, display communications from Voyager," she ordered. A list came up immediately and Janeway shook her head. As promised, Chakotay had faithfully sent an update every four hours, and she skimmed to the last one, checking the time. She immediately sat up straighter, frowning. The last message had been sent at 05:02 Ventosan time, and it was now 09:38. Half an hour overdue for the next communication.

Janeway stood and paced around the room. Was half an hour enough for concern? Perhaps Chakotay was busy helping the senders of the distress call. The Captain shook her head, frustrated. It only takes a few seconds to transmit a "Still on course, everything fine" message. She made a decision, and if Chakotay didn't like it, tough luck.

"Computer, put a communication through to Voyager. I'm entering the subspace frequency now."

Several beeps later, the computer responded. "There is no reply on this frequency."

"Right then, transmit on all frequencies to USS Voyager. Message reads 'Janeway to Voyager. Please update status immediately'."

She waited another minute.

"Message transmitted. No reply."

She sat down and set her thoughts straight. There was, of course, only one plan of action.

"Captain Janeway to Commander Devas, urgent transmission."

Devas appeared on the screen, his friendly face inconsistent with the stiff uniform he wore. The Ventosan spoke first.

"I was about to contact you, Captain. We just received a distress call from Voyager. I need to speak with you immediately. May I transport you here?"

"Of course," Janeway managed, swallowing the lump in her throat. Distress call? She waited as the Ventosan transporter delivered her to the Commander's office. He was standing facing a large window occupying one wall of the room, and he turned as Janeway materialised.

"I think you should hear the communication first, Captain," he said without preamble. Janeway was glad of that; it was no time for small talk. She listened as the audio-only recording started to play and was shocked when Seven-of-Nine's voice sounded.

"USS Voyager to all ships in the area. We have intruders on board. The crew have been rendered unconscious by an unknown process. Mayday, repeat, Mayday, we are under attack. Please respond. We are under -" The words stopped, replaced by shouting and what sounded to Janeway like phaser fire, then the recording ended abruptly.

Janeway started to speak, but Devas cut her off. "Captain, we know who is responsible. This is a tactic of a renegade faction of a species called the Olari. They feign injury and damage to their small craft and, when taken aboard a larger ship offering assistance they subdue the crew telepathically. They have stolen hundreds of spacecraft. We…avoid them."

"Why don't you put a stop to it?" demanded Janeway. "You have a whole fleet at your command; you could easily defeat a small 'renegade faction'!"

Devas shook his head. "It's not that simple, Captain. We were at war with the Olari for many years. They invaded our colonies, killing the inhabitants and stealing whatever they can find. They are technological parasites; they aren't capable of designing their own ships, warp drives, weapons, so they steal them from others. They are technologically, tactically, morally and intellectually inferior to you and me, Captain, but we have no wish to start another war."

"What about diplomacy? Have you tried to negotiate with them?"

"Eventually that's what happened, but only after we had lost half our colonies. We fought hard, slowly starting to win battles, and in the end they agreed to withdraw. We paid a heavy price, Captain; we were forced to hand over several of our remaining colonies. They don't negotiate – they make demands and will settle for nothing less."

Janeway ran her hand through her hair, pausing to give herself time to think. She had the Delta Flyer, and if the Olari were technologically challenged it was certain that they would have difficulties controlling even Voyager's most basic systems. Since Seven had had the time to make a distress call she would have surely locked out Voyager's controls, and a Borg algorithm took time for even the best engineers to crack. If she could just get on board…but she would be affected like the rest of the crew. Unless she had some help.

"Commander, I have a shuttlecraft at my disposal. I'm confident that I can locate Voyager and get aboard undetected; however I will be vulnerable to the Olari's telepathy just like my crew. Is there any way to prevent me from being affected?"

The Ventosan smiled, turning and retrieving from his desk an instrument identical to the one Dr. Berdan had used on her each morning. "I thought you might ask that, Captain. This contains a chemical that, if taken in the large dose I have here, will ensure that your mind is protected against any unwanted telepathy. You will be able to withstand the Olari's telepathic assault and prevent them from sensing your thoughts."

He handed Janeway the instrument and Janeway thanked him, then smiled. "I don't suppose you can supply me with any personnel, or weapons?" she asked, pretty certain of what the answer would be. She was right.

"I'm sorry, Captain, but if Ventosan personnel or weapons were found to be involved, it would fuel the tensions between us and the Olari even more, possibly igniting a new conflict. I can't risk that. I do, however, have one more thing to offer you."

He tapped a console and a schematic of a piece of equipment appeared.

"This has been developed only recently, and the Olari aren't aware that it exists. It's a shield generator, of sorts, that will render a small vessel invisible to sensors and direct sight. It also masks the vessel's warp signature and, in the event of attack, will provide a high level of protection. It should be a simple matter to integrate it into your shuttle's systems. Your Captain Chakotay was kind enough to show me around Voyager," added Devas.

"Something tells me this comes with a large price tag," Janeway said, looking carefully at the screen.

"We would ask for the complete contents of Voyager's cultural database, your holodeck technology and samples of certain food items that we have found…interesting. Is that acceptable?"

Janeway was amused. How many times had she said no to trading weapons, warp and vital systems technology and offered those very things instead? She agreed instantly and, with quick goodbyes and wishes of good luck, she was transported to the cabin.