Title: Kes is Dead (Part 10)
Series: Star Trek: Voyager
Author: Singing Violin
Rating: K
Spoilers: Endgame.
Disclaimer: TPTB own them, but they didn't do what I wanted with them, so I'm borrowing them for a bit. I'll give them back when I'm done.
Feedback: Yes please.
Archiving: Anywhere.

A fortnight can seem like the blink of an eye, or it can feel like a lifetime. To Admiral Janeway, it was both.

During the fourteen days they traveled, there was little outside trouble, largely due to the impressive cloaking device that B'Elanna had enabled within two hours after they had disembarked. If the 'Feds' were looking for them, they weren't having much success.

Indeed, the trouble was contained within the walls of the heavily-armored ship, transformed two years ago with technology from the future for the purpose of fighting a great battle. The ship was ready for another such battle. Its erstwhile captain was another story.

The first night she returned to her quarters was a bittersweet reunion. She sat at the viewport for two hours, mesmerized by the star fields, before she forced herself to lie in the bed. She did not, however, sleep much that night, or any night during their journey. Luckily, there was coffee in abundance in the Alpha Quadrant, and she'd made sure to stock up before they'd departed. Each morning the bitter liquid slipped down her throat, shocking her senses back into the dull waking world of waiting, while her mind puzzled over the mystery of the 'old enemy' and her heart puzzled over something else entirely.

He'd tried to speak with her, right after they'd left. He'd gone into her ready room - her confident composure and facile banter with Paris may have fooled the rest of the crew, but not him - and attempted to explain himself. She didn't want to hear it, afraid that his words would break whatever resolve she had left, knowing she needed that resolve to do what it took to complete her mission. "It's none of my business," she'd said, holding up a hand to stop his confession. "I don't want to hear about it." He'd opened his mouth to protest, but was stopped by the iciest stare he'd ever chanced to encounter. "Dismissed," she'd ordered. And, as always, he obeyed.

Burdened with guilt and the continuing concern for his ex-Borg ex-girlfriend, he hadn't tried again. The only interaction he had with her after that was strictly business. They'd done that before, too, and returned the cold, efficient relationship of captain and first officer with disturbing ease. Together, they gathered the scant information that was available, discerning the likely location of the people they hoped to rescue.

Without the inspiration of their Talaxian guide, who remained tens of thousands of light years away where they had left him in his new home, there were no parties to entertain the crew during the two-week journey. During the few hours when Tom was neither sleeping nor necessary at the helm, he'd reloaded some favorite holodeck scenarios for the enjoyment of the crew. But few came.

It wasn't that they were busy; indeed, there was very little to do while they waited to arrive at their target. Tuvok scheduled battle drills, which helped to occupy the time, but in their off-hours, the crew remained aloof. Perhaps it was the tense nature of the assignment, the knowledge that they could return as outlaws, subject to punishment for their actions. Perhaps it was the simple anticipation that the mission would be too short to need breaks for leisure. Or perhaps Kathryn Janeway's funk had pervaded the entire ship.

Tuvok, too, had tried to reach her. He'd attempted a different tactic, approaching her in her quarters shortly after her duty shift ended, four days after they had left space dock. "I am concerned," he had stated, "about your health. You are not a Vulcan, and cannot be expected to subvert emotional responses in the same manner."

"Are you accusing me of being emotionally unbalanced, Tuvok?" she'd asked plainly. He'd raised an eyebrow, and expected her to respond with anger. However, she'd simply smiled sadly and told him that she was fine, that he oughtn't worry himself with anything but the battle drills. His loyalty to and respect for his former captain had dominated his concern, and he hadn't pressed further.

When they arrived in Breen space, they'd traced the survivors of the emergency landing to a work camp on a barely M-class planet. It was the only good news they'd recovered, for slavery was a far better fate than torture, and meant that there was a very good chance of finding their people alive.

The ship couldn't approach the planet on which the Federation citizens were being held. Its gravitational signature would surely be detected, and while Voyager could probably survive a fight with the Breen defense forces surrounding the planet, the encounter would likely be seen as a declaration of war, despite the unauthorized nature of the mission. So they left the ship hiding behind a moon, and took the rebuilt Delta Flyer, newly outfitted with its own cloaking device.

Admiral Janeway decided that the rescue party should be small. She didn't want to risk any more lives than necessary, and the fewer people they sent, the less likely they would run into trouble. So she assigned Tom Paris to fly the shuttle, while she, Seven of Nine, and Mike Ayala would search for - and hopefully rescue - their people.

When she announced the Away Party, Chakotay rose from his chair, incensed. Daring to question her orders in front of her crew, he requested to be included among them.

"Why?" she asked, perhaps foolishly.

To look out for you, he thought, but he said nothing aloud, and let his eyes communicate his meaning. Years of familiarity sent his message loud and clear, and he saw the anger of insult flash across her face in response. He wasn't going to let that stop him, however, and she knew it, so, perhaps wisely, she agreed to let him come along.

So there it was - five members in an elite team determined to snatch the prisoners and escape without detection, currently riding in a cloaked shuttle towards the surface of a planet on which they hoped they would find three former Voyager crewmen and their surviving current crewmates.

If all went well, Harry Kim could tell them about the 'old enemy' on the way home. But all would not go well.