Disclaimers and such can be found...throughout ;)
"Commander! Something's happening with the distortion!" Harry's voice rang out across the bridge, breaking the silence that had been solidifying since news of Meghan's collapse in sickbay.
Tuvok got to his feet on the command deck, his eyes never leaving the viewscreen. "Report, Lieutenant."
"I think…" Harry double checked the readings the sensors were sending him. "It's moving away, sir!"
Tom looked over his shoulder, his fingers poised to make the jump to follow it.
*Doctor to Commander Tuvok. The Captain and Commander are regaining consciousness.*
"Acknowledged," Tuvok responded, his gaze still on the viewscreen, watching as the entity moved away. "What is Counselor Vance's condition?"
There was a pause before the EMH responded. *She remains unconscious.*
Tuvok looked down at Tom. "Mister Paris, set a course and follow the distortion, maintain a distance of–"
*Tuvok.*
Tom spun all the way around, a wide, hopeful grin splitting his face at the husky but utterly unmistakable voice. Tuvok ignored him and answered the hail. "Yes, Captain?"
*If that distortion ring is moving away…let it.*
Tuvok's eyebrow rose. "Aye, Captain."
The comm. line clicked off, but not before the bridge crew heard Janeway's very tired voice mutter something that sounded incredibly like "good riddance".
"Mister Paris," Tuvok started, choosing to ignore the relieved laughter that was circling the bridge, "as you were. Maintain position. Mister Kim, stand down yellow alert."
"Aye, sir," they both responded, happy to follow the given orders.
In sickbay, however, Janeway was not happy. "Doctor, I'm fine." She knocked his hand away as he tried to scan her. "You should be concentrating on Meghan."
The Doctor put a hand on his captain's shoulder and pushed her back down on the biobed. "The Counselor is fine. She's just unconscious."
"Doctor," Kathryn pushed back up onto her elbows, "if she's unconscious then she is not fine."
"She's better than she was before, believe me," he retorted, giving up on trying to scan his captain. He considered putting the surgical arm over her to keep her still but didn't think his programming would survive that maneuver. "Her psilosynine levels are returning to normal as well as her respiratory, blood pressure, and heart rate. This is a vast improvement to what they were when she collapsed."
"But we're back. We're awake," Kathryn argued. "Why isn't she?"
Having taken advantage of the hologram's inattention, Chakotay had gotten off of his biobed completely. He'd heard and understood the fear in Kathryn's voice, and he moved to stand between her and Meghan's biobeds. "Can you wake her?"
The EMH frowned. "I can, but it's better to let her rest."
Kathryn exchanged a look with Chakotay before nodding to the Doctor. "Wake her." She raised a hand to hold off the Doctor's protest. "Just for a few minutes, then she can sleep the entire trip back to Earth."
"Fine," he grumbled, moving away from Janeway's side and preparing a hypospray with a mild stimulant, "but only for a few minutes."
Chakotay helped Kathryn slide off the bed so they were both standing over Meghan when her eyes fluttered open. She blinked several times, prompting the EMH to ask, "How do you feel?"
Meghan's tired gaze flicked quickly over all three of them before she raised an unsteady hand and gestured for Kathryn to lean closer. "You should've blown me out an airlock when you had the chance."
Kathryn gave her a lopsided smile and gripped her hand tightly. "It's still a distinct possibility."
"Thank the deities for that," Meghan muttered groggily before her eyes closed again.
"She's asleep," the Doctor huffed, monitoring the readings above the bed, "and now I must insist that the two of you do the same."
Kathryn straightened, releasing Meghan's hand, and sagged back against Chakotay. He staggered back a step before catching his balance, and she knew he must be as exhausted as she was. "Doctor, that is one order I intend to follow. I trust you'll inform Tuvok?" She received his nod. "Good. Computer, site to site transport of myself and Chakotay to my quarters."
Watching them disappear in a swirl of blue light, the EMH smiled and shook out a blanket to drape over his one remaining patient. "Score one for the EMH." He smiled to himself and then paused. "Which makes the score EMH one," he frowned and sighed, "Captain one thousand."
*Tuvok to Captain Janeway.*
Kathryn groaned, pulling herself slowly from sleep. She wouldn't say her head was pounding, but it certainly wasn't doing her any favors. Prying her eyes open, she looked blankly at the wall of her quarters. Why, oh why, was she awake? The Doctor had ordered her to sleep, and she had been more than happy to do so and had, in fact, been doing so up until a few minutes ago.
*Tuvok to Captain Janeway.*
She groaned again when she heard Tuvok's voice over the comm. line. Now she at least knew what had awoken her. But she was under doctor's orders. Surely Tuvok knew that…which unfortunately meant that he probably had a damn good reason for calling her. And that she should probably answer him.
"Just ignore it," Chakotay said his face buried against her shoulder, causing his voice to sound muffled.
"I can't," she argued unenthusiastically. "He'll call again, and then he'll come down here if I don't respond."
*Tuvok to Captain Janeway, please respond.*
"What'd I tell you?" The arm Chakotay had draped over her tightened its hold, pulling her back against his chest. He mumbled something into the pillow but she ignored him, reaching her free arm out for the comm. badge on the nightstand. "Go ahead, Tuvok."
If a Vulcan could ever sound relieved, he did. *My apologies, Captain, but you have an incoming alpha priority communication from Starfleet command.*
Sighing tiredly, she acknowledged, "Send it down here, Tuvok. I'm in no shape to come up to the bridge." She patted Chakotay's arm, and he released her so she could move from the bed.
"You want me to get up?" he asked, his eyes still closed as he rolled onto his back.
"No," she looked down at him enviously. "I'm sure whatever chewing out they want to do won't take long."
He opened one eye and looked at her. "Are you going to change clothes?"
She looked down and realized she was still wearing the blue medical smock from sickbay. "Nope. It was so damned important for them to talk to me right now; they'll get what they get."
Her desk terminal beeped, indicating the transmission was coming through, and she slowly turned towards the living room, hearing his mumbled wish of "good luck" even as she sat down at her desk. As the screen came up, she barely stopped herself from groaning at the sight of Admiral Rivers filling the screen.
"Captain Janeway," he greeted, his voice surprisingly cheerful, "I understand from your officer's report that you were successful in handling the spatial distortion, and I wanted to be the first to offer you congratulations on a job well done!"
Kathryn stared dumbfounded at the screen and only her years of training had her automatically responding with a barely audible, "Thank you, Admiral."
He waved her off. "No no, I was merely a supporting hand in your success. Believe me when I say, it's the Federation that will be thanking you. You can expect all sorts of pomp and circumstance when you arrive home."
"Oh wait, Admiral, no," Kathryn started, shaking her head, "that really isn't necessary–"
"It'll be a real hero's welcome for you," he continued, ignoring her. He leaned forward as if imparting a secret. "I also hear there just might be a promotion in it for you, as well. How does Admiral Janeway sound?" He didn't wait for an answer. "We'll see you in a few days, Captain. I look forward to shaking your hand and reintroducing you to your adoring public. Rivers out."
Kathryn stared in complete shock at the Starfleet emblem that appeared on the computer screen. Blinking, she managed to look towards the bedroom and found Chakotay leaning against the doorframe, his hair sticking up in uneven tufts. "I think we came back to an alternate universe."
"Sounds to me like he just wants to be in all the publicity shots with you." He shrugged, running a hand through his hair.
"Chakotay, that man," she gestured angrily at the blank screen, "was absolutely…foul to me, and now…now he thinks I'm just going to forget?"
Chakotay nodded, unsurprised. "They're offering admiral to you."
She got to her feet. "I don't care about that!"
"Are you sure?" he asked quietly. "It's what you always wanted."
Kathryn shook her head. "No. No, what are you saying?"
He reached a hand out to her. "I'm not saying anything, Kathryn. I just think you should consider what you really want before you make any decisions."
"I don't want…that," she protested, allowing him to take her in his arms. "Not anymore. I want you."
"You have me. You will always have me," he whispered, "but now you might also have a chance to have that, too."
She didn't say anything. Standing there in Chakotay's embrace, she had everything she'd wanted for the past eight years, but Rivers' voice continued to echo in her head. How does Admiral Janeway sound?
They would reach Earth tomorrow, and Kathryn couldn't sleep. She'd happily found over the past few nights that she and Chakotay's more amorous pursuits were usually more than enough to tire her out, but tonight there was simply too much on her mind. When she'd slid out of bed, he'd woken and offered to walk with her, knowing that was exactly what she was going to do, but she'd just told him to go back to sleep. There was no point in them both being needlessly exhausted tomorrow.
It amazed even her just how fast she had readjusted her schedule. Despite a year of being on an "early to bed, early to rise" schedule, she'd quickly fallen back into her late night habits and coffee-fueled mornings. The sleeplessness in the middle of the night she could've lived without, but she actually did cherish the wee hours of the morning. There was just something about knowing you were still up when most other people had long since quit for the day.
Not everyone, of course. It had never been unusual to run into Tom leaving Sandrine's at two or three in the morning, or to find B'Elanna still stubbornly working on something in Engineering way past when her shift should have actually ended, but for the most part, the ship had been quiet. This night proved to be no exception as most everyone was expecting a lot of fuss the next day when they arrived on Earth. The ship was subdued, and there was a nervous anticipation in the air as no one knew quite what to expect at tomorrow's homecoming. Sadly, Kathryn included herself in that group.
The comm. traffic for the past few days had been nothing but congratulatory and optimistic, with promises of admiralty for herself and reinstated careers for her crew, but once bitten, twice shy. They'd all heard these platitudes before, and while the overdue recognition was heartwarming, it was possibly a case of too little too late. As much as Starfleet wanted to hold Voyager up as an example to the Federation as a symbol of everything that was good and strong about the organization, Kathryn had her doubts.
Turning the last corner of her usual route and entering the darkened mess hall, Kathryn was only mildly surprised to find she wasn't the only person having trouble sleeping. Acknowledging Meghan with a nod of her head, she made her way over to the replicator first, ordering an herbal tea before joining the counselor near the viewport. "Mind if I join you?"
Meghan's nose crinkled, and she looked over at Kathryn's cup. "If you're drinking coffee at three in the morning, I guess I don't have to ask why you're having trouble sleeping."
Kathryn took a sip before replying, "Tea, actually." She gave Meghan a wink. "I'm hoping to still get at least an hour or two of sleep before the morning."
"It is morning."
She shrugged. "What about you? Are you usually up this late…or early, if you prefer?"
Meghan shook her head. "No, but I did sleep for almost three days straight."
Retreating a bit and taking a seat on the dark couch that faced the viewport, Kathryn commented, "Ah, well, forgive me for saying so, but you don't exactly look rested."
Meghan turned, facing her. "I could say the same thing about you."
"True." She smiled slightly, toying with her mug. "But I'm not denying it."
"I haven't denied anything," Meghan retorted, defensively.
"You implied."
"Your point?"
Kathryn raised her chin and regarded the woman in front of her seriously. "I'm worried about a friend who's going through a hard time. She's recently had to confront some uncomfortable memories about a past experience, and I'm wondering how well she's coping."
Meghan blinked. "You consider me…a friend?"
Kathryn froze mid-sip and slowly lowered her drink. "Yes. If that's okay with you."
The young woman sank into the seat next to Kathryn. She didn't know quite what to say to that. "I thought Starfleet captains weren't supposed to become friends with their crew."
"I thought you were a civilian," Kathryn argued with a grin, "and in case you haven't noticed, I've kind of thrown Starfleet's rulebook out the airlock this trip."
"I did notice, actually."
"I thought you might have."
They sat in silence, both looking out at the stars, and for perhaps the first time, Kathryn actually felt herself relax in Meghan's presence. She didn't feel the need to guard her thoughts as they both seemingly contemplated their futures. As much as was unclear about hers, Meghan's plans were just as uncertain to her. Maybe Meghan didn't know what they were yet, either.
Sipping the last of her tea – which had cooled – Kathryn felt like she could actually go back to sleep and possibly salvage a couple more hours of sleep. Just as she shifted her weight to stand up, Meghan spoke.
"I cried last night."
With that quietly uttered statement, the drowsy feeling that had just started to fully descend over Kathryn evaporated in an instant. Without turning her head, her eyes shifted over to look at Meghan, who was still looking out at the stars.
"It wasn't just a few tears either. It was full-on…" she sucked in a shuddering breath. "It was the first time since…" Her voice trailed off either unable or unwilling yet to verbalize her loss.
Kathryn reached out and took her hand. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Meghan let out a watery chuckle. "That's usually my line."
Kathryn nodded quietly and waited.
"I just…sometimes I think…I shouldn't be here. I should have died on that station." She used her free hand to swipe under both of her eyes. "What made me so different that I lived when so many other people died?"
"I don't know," Kathryn replied honestly, "but I'm glad you did. After all, I wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't. Your presence has saved countless lives." She held up a hand when Meghan tried to disagree. "Think about it. Some other counselor may have told the admirals' board that I wasn't fit to come on this mission, or another counselor may have kept information from me. You didn't. What if I had made different decisions because I didn't have all the information?" She gestured to the space beyond the viewports. "The Maquis might still be exiled. The distortion wave may still be attacking random ships. I may have been put in a padded cell. The possibilities are endless." Kathryn squeezed Meghan's hand. "You saved lives simply be being who you are and by being here."
"When you put it like that…it sounds really good," Meghan allowed after a few minutes, "but it still hurts."
"Yes, it does," Kathryn agreed, thinking of her father and Justin and countless others she'd lost over the years including those that had fallen while under her command. More than once, she had asked the question of why she had survived and they hadn't. She still didn't have an answer. "And it probably always will, but eventually you'll notice that some days, it doesn't hurt quite as bad."
"Today isn't one of those days," Meghan whispered.
"No," Kathryn replied softly. "I wouldn't think so."
Feeling exhaustion settle deep in her bones, Meghan leaned back into the cushions casting a sidelong glance at Kathryn. "I thought I was supposed to be the ship's counselor."
"You are." Kathryn patted her hand and stood up. "But I've spent a lot of time with counselors over the past year; eventually, it rubs off. Now come on, let's get out of here so we can both get some sleep before we face tomorrow."
Accepting Kathryn's offered hand, Meghan got to her feet. "I don't think sleep is going to be a problem." They made their way towards the doors, pausing so Kathryn could recycle her cup. "Have you decided what you're going to do tomorrow?"
"As a captain, one must be prepared for any situation," Janeway answered as they headed into the corridor.
Meghan rolled her eyes. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means…I have no earthly idea how tomorrow is going to play out."
"Yeah," Meghan replied, stepping onto the turbolift with her, "that's what I thought."
"All right, Tom. Take us down. Nice and easy."
"Aye, Captain. Landing struts extended, inertial dampeners compensating." He grinned. "San Francisco never looked so good."
As much as Janeway appreciated his sentiment, she couldn't quite bring herself to smile. Despite all the indications they'd been receiving, she still didn't know quite how she felt about their arrival, and the uncertainty was causing her stomach to clench worse than if she was about to face the Borg Queen herself. At least with her, Kathryn knew her course of action.
There was a muted thump as the ship settled onto the surface of the planet, the struts taking the full weight of the ship. Tom punched in a few commands and then announced, "And we're down. All engines secure."
"Well done, Tom," Kathryn said, getting to her feet.
"Captain," Harry called out, "we're receiving a transmission. Starfleet wants us to prepare for the disembarkation team's arrival."
Before she could ask what a disembarkation team was, three figures coalesced on the bridge, and Kathryn held up her hand to hold off Tuvok and Ayala's forward movement. "At ease, gentlemen." She glanced at the three officers, each clutching PADDs, that had just materialized on her command deck. "I think we'll let these three live."
The middle one stepped forward. "My name is Commander Lyons, press secretary for Admiral Rivers. I will be coordinating the debarkation of Voyager's crew. We have a ton of press here, and we need to look our best." He paused to look around at the bridge crew. "I was under the impression that half of this crew was civilian."
Tom's lip curled up in disgust at the officious man. "We are."
Kathryn frowned at him in slight rebuke before answering Lyons. "Approximately half of my crew are technically civilians, yes. Why?"
"But they're in uniform," one of the other newly-arrived men blurted, still clutching his PADD tightly to his chest.
"They'll have to change into civilian attire," Lyons announced. "We can't have civilians parading around headquarters wearing uniforms."
"Now wait just a minute," Kathryn started before Chakotay nudged her in the back.
"It's okay, Captain. He's got a point." He shrugged. "We can change clothes."
Lyons barely acknowledged him. "I need Lieutenant Kim and Commander Tuvok," he said, looking around the bridge and spotting the two officers. "You two will be the first personnel off the ship. You will walk down the ramp first, followed by Captain Janeway–"
"You're having the officers get off the ship first?" Harry interrupted.
"As captain, I prefer to disembark last," Kathryn stated.
"Normally that would be your prerogative, Captain," Lyons replied snidely, ignoring Harry completely, "but these aren't exactly normal circumstances. We need this to look good for all the press that will be waiting for you at the bottom of the ramp. You are the one they're here to see, not the rest of your crew." He sniffed. "Now, where is your holographic doctor? Ah, there you are. You will follow the captain down the ramp with Annika Hansen on your left and Counselor Vance on your right."
"I prefer to be addressed as Seven of Nine," she informed him coldly from her station above the command chairs.
Lyons glanced up at her. "Of course you do. Now, after that group of senior staff disembarks, the rest of the uniformed Starfleet personnel will descend, officers first, followed by crewmen. Civilians will be the last group. By that time, the majority of the crowd will have moved inside the tent for the press conference, so none of you will have to worry about dealing with questions. But if you do get asked anything, just refer them to myself or answer with no comment. Understood? Any questions? No? Good. Now let's get moving, people. We're on a schedule."
Most of the bridge crew was already standing, but no one moved. Lyons looked around appearing dumbfounded. "Come on, people. Let's get moving."
Tom folded his arms across his chest, defiantly prepared to wait Lyons out. He didn't have to wait long for the arrogant little man to turn sputtering to the captain.
"Captain, do your people think they're just going to stay here on the ship? They can't do that."
"No," Kathryn drawled, her voice deceptively mild. "They're waiting for me to give the order for them to disembark. If you had ever served on a starship, you would know that."
An unattractive flush crept into the commander's cheeks. "Do you plan on giving that order anytime soon?"
Chakotay stepped forward, pushing into the man's space and forcing him to retreat. "She outranks you, Commander. I suggest you show her the proper respect."
The one aide that hadn't spoken yet stepped forward and timidly offered two PADDs to Kathryn. "Admiral Paris asked that I give this to you, Captain, and the second PADD contains all the details for the disembarkation."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." She accepted the PADDs and thumbed on the one from Owen. There was a short text only message on the screen. She read it, slightly amused, and thumbed it back off. "Commander Lyons."
"Yes, Captain?" he asked, stepping carefully forward.
She looked at him, one hand on her hip. "Get off my bridge, Commander."
His mouth dropped open. "You can't do–"
"Tuvok," she snapped out.
"Aye, Captain," he responded immediately, stepping down onto the command deck. "Commander, if you'll come with me."
With the Vulcan security chief standing uncomfortably close to him, Lyons threw one more glance at Janeway before grudgingly accompanying Tuvok towards the lift.
"You should've just let Tuvok shoot them," B'Elanna muttered loud enough for the two remaining aides to glance worriedly in her direction.
Kathryn smirked but scrolled through the second PADD. "Well, it seems there isn't much I can do about the uniform issue. Seven and Meghan could get away with it since they were contracted prior to this mission," she glanced at the women in question and shrugged. "Not that either of them wear the uniform anyway, but the rest of you…" She shook her head disgustedly. "Well…it's good to be back, isn't it?"
There was a light chorus of laughter around the bridge even as Janeway opened a shipwide channel and addressed the crew to let them know about the changes. "When all this is over, I know a certain farmhouse in Indiana that's going to be hosting a party, and I'm expecting all of you and your families to be in attendance. Janeway out."
"All right, people," Chakotay spoke up once she had signed off, "let's get moving. I don't think the Captain wants to face the press by herself."
"Give me the Viidians any day," she remarked, turning. "Harry, looks like you're with me."
Harry beamed. "Yes, ma'am."
Chakotay touched Kathryn's elbow, holding her back as everyone else began moving towards the lifts. She stayed, exchanging a grin with Tom as he passed before noticing that Meghan was frowning in the direction of the lifts. "Counselor?" She waited until Meghan looked at her. "What is it?"
Meghan glanced again towards the two aides that were crowding onto the lift between Wildman and Ayala. "I don't know yet." She returned her attention to Kathryn. "Ask me again in a few minutes."
Kathryn raised an eyebrow, but Meghan stalked up the ramp towards the lift. Looking around the empty bridge, Kathryn eyed Chakotay. "Looks like it's just you and me. Alone. On the bridge."
"If only we had more time," he said, only half-joking as he pulled her against him. "Have you decided what you're going to do?"
She let out a nervous laugh. "No. I can't imagine what kind of position they'd possibly be willing to give me after…well after everything, but to make admiral," she sighed. "My mother would be really proud."
"Your mother is proud of you regardless, Kathryn."
She took in a shaky breath. "We'll see."
"She loves you." He kissed her on the forehead and then on the lips. "And I love you."
She kissed him back. "Even if I make admiral?"
He laughed and rubbed her back. "Even if."
She nodded, reveling in his strength before summoning her own. "Let's do it."
Applause reverberated in the hastily-erected press suite, making it sound doubly loud and distorted as Janeway walked to the podium. Flashes from the news services holocameras added to the chaos and feeling of disorientation. She had to blink several times as she looked out over the gathering of mostly press and upper Starfleet echelon types. So much had happened in the past twenty minutes that she was still trying to mentally catch up and process it all.
The only problem was that no one was giving her the five seconds she needed to do so.
As soon as she and Harry had stepped off the ramp together, Harry had been unceremoniously pushed to the side while it seemed that every desk-riding officer from Headquarters had clamored to have their picture taken with her. As the mob of people had carried her towards the press suite, people had shaken her hand, offered her book deals, implied jobs she could pursue, and one had even asked her out on a date. It was as if everyone present had forgotten the entire year's events.
She had tried looking around for her crew, but she'd seen no sign of them until the press had finally been pushed away to be seated. The small area behind the stage had been curtained off and Kathryn, finding herself accompanied by several admirals, some of which she recognized and some she didn't, had tried to find out what exactly was on the agenda. Was she expected to speak? What details of the mission were classified? Had her crew disembarked yet?
But then Meghan had appeared in front of her.
"They aren't letting civilians inside the press area," the young counselor said urgently.
"Good. This is already more of a circus than I ever wanted to be a part of," Kathryn replied, distracted as she watched the group of admirals sneaking glimpses of her and obviously talking about her. She straightened her tunic and realized Meghan was looking at her like she had grown antlers. "What?"
Meghan's eyes narrowed at her in disbelief. "The Maquis are considered civilians."
Complete understanding dawned on Kathryn and, taking hold of Meghan's arm, she pulled the counselor away from the nearest group of people and lowered her voice. "What's your source?"
"The two aides on the bridge thought about it, and then I made sure I was near enough to Pernsen to confirm it when a reporter asked about the Maquis members of the crew." Her face showed her clear disgust with the man. "He was practically salivating at the idea of being able to turn them away."
Kathryn thought of Owen's message to her and her temper simmered dangerously. "Find Chakotay and make sure none of them leave." She eyed the milling admirals, looking for one in particular. "I'll take care of this, or there won't be any reason at all to have the press here."
It had only taken a few harsh words with some unknown rear admiral to make Admiral Nechayev appear at Janeway's side, insisting they lower their voices before demanding to know what the problem was. After a quick explanation, and the implied threat of noncooperation from Kathryn herself, Nechayev had barely even balked. She'd simply stated that she would take care of the matter and that, by the time Kathryn took the podium, her entire crew would be in attendance.
As she looked up from the podium now, she found that Alynna had been as good as her word. The crew of Voyager, both uniformed and not, comprised the entire back half of the audience. Almost all of them were standing as there was very little seating, but it made her breathe easier to see them there. She glanced to the left side of the stage and gave Nechayev an appreciative nod.
She had to give her thanks now because, in a few minutes, Nechayev, who was one of the staunchest admirals in Starfleet, may never choose to speak to her again. Kathryn returned her attention to the crowd in front of her and felt the slightly heavier rank bar lay flat against her throat. It was what she had wanted for so many years, but now the weight of it felt more akin to a boulder. A boulder that was tied to her feet and dragging her inescapably underwater, issuing a silent promise to hold her there until she drowned.
Needless to say, the moment of her promotion had not been like anything she had ever dreamed.
Owen Paris stepped up to the podium, and the cordial aide from the bridge signaled to Kathryn that it was time for her to make her way to the stage. The admirals that were still milling about backstage all turned to watch her, most smiling and congratulating her. One that she had never met before stepped forward and shook her hand. "Forgive and forget, eh, Captain…or should I say, Admiral?"
He'd winked and patted her on the back as she'd moved past him, but a cold feeling had started to build in the pit of her stomach. As Owen announced her name, she ascended the short flight of stairs in a daze, still thinking of the man's words to her. Admiral Rivers approached her as Owen ran through a laundry list of her accomplishments, and she realized she was getting a medal honoring her service.
"You're doing great, Janeway," Rivers told her quietly as he pinned the medal to her jacket. "Just keep playing nice, and you'll be on your extended vacation in no time."
Turning towards the cameras, he shook her hand and kept on smiling. Kathryn felt like she had just been slapped in the face as all the pieces from the past several days fell into place. At the sound of applause, her attention ricocheted back to the stage, and she saw a Fleet admiral she'd only ever seen on news vids approach her, carrying in his hand the small box that held her new admiral rank bar. She thought she might start hyperventilating.
"This really is an exceptional thing you're doing," he commented as he casually removed her four pips. "Our enlistment rates will triple after this bit of PR." He affixed the rank bar on her collar. "Congratulations, Admiral."
The rank bar was a cold, heavy weight that moved against her throat as she swallowed thickly. The holocamera flashes popped in front of her as the admiral pushed her captain pips into her hand and then stood beside her for more pictures.
Owen was beaming at her from the podium. "Allow me to be the first to introduce you to Admiral Kathryn Janeway."
The crowd had quieted as she'd stood at the podium, waiting expectantly for her to speak, but she took another moment. A long moment to scan the back of the room, making eye contact with all one hundred twenty nine members of her crew that had taken this last journey with her. Most looked extremely happy for her, but the ones that knew her well appeared cautious, tentative, and she knew despite her efforts, they at least could see her mounting discomfort. Only Chakotay's dark eyes were steady, holding hers and never once wavering. Warmth filled her chest, and she finally knew what it was she wanted to say.
"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," she said to the side of the stage where the council of admirals stood, "for this…honor. It means…a great deal to me." She looked down before continuing. "A few days ago, one of you asked me how I liked the sound of 'Admiral Janeway'. I have to admit," she conceded, scanning her audience again. "I thought it sounded pretty good."
There was a good-natured murmur of laughter in the audience.
"It's a title I strived for my entire life," she stated emphatically, becoming serious again. "It's the rank my father held…before he died. Unfortunately, he…like so many others, died in the line of duty. He died in the service of something greater than himself…and that made it…okay. That made his sacrifice, as well as the sacrifice of my family, worthwhile." She paused, taking a breath to steady herself. "I received a message today from a dear friend. It said 'time heals all wounds'." She swallowed before continuing, "Unfortunately, that's not all it said. It also told me to keep hold of my temper and to just get through today's proceedings."
A few people on the edge of the stage as well as in the audience shifted uncomfortably.
Having completely regained her composure, Janeway looked again to the admirals gathered at the end of the stage. "I'm sorry, Owen, but I'm not ready to make nice just yet."
The whir of the press crews' holocameras seemed to intensify.
"Over the past year, I've had a lot of time to think. I've thought about the lives that were lost under my command. I've thought about mistakes I've made in my life, both personal and professional. And I wondered what my father would think of me? Would he be ashamed? I was sitting in a prison cell, if you care to remember, and I doubt that was the future he'd imagined for me." She shook her head. "But I'm through with doubting myself because the conclusion I came to was that I don't believe it's me my father would've been ashamed of."
She glanced out at the crowd, and while the front row of upper echelon had looks of confusion and disapproval on their faces, most of her crew was smiling at her. Their open show of devotion gave her the last bit of support she needed.
"For me to accept this hollow promotion, I would be dishonoring all of those who have served this organization proudly, and I won't do that." She took the rank bar off and placed it on the podium. "To the admirals' council, I regret to inform you that I do not accept this promotion, and I hereby resign my commission in Starfleet, effective immediately."
Rivers stepped forward, his face darkening with rage, as he moved towards her. "How dare you? You ungrateful bitc–"
"Hey!" Tom called out in warning from the back of the room.
But it hadn't been necessary. Rivers had stopped himself when he'd realized Kathryn hadn't been backing away from him. Her feet were braced and her shoulders were squared, but what had frozen him to the spot and choked off his words mid-sentence had been the ice-cold glare she had focused directly on him.
"Did you really think I'd be your puppet, Rivers?" she asked coldly. Loudly enough for all of the audience to still hear her. "You exiled my crew and put me in prison for a year. Then you sent me on a suicide mission. So tell me, exactly what part of that am I supposed to be grateful for?"
She raised her voice to address the other admirals still clustered on the stage. "If Starfleet is willing to promote me simply to engender good public relations and boost recruitment efforts, then you have lost your way. You have become an organization without principles. I'm glad my father died before he had to bear witness to what has become of Starfleet." She locked eyes with Nechayev, Owen, Garcia, and the fleet admiral she didn't know. "You were once a noble organization that valued its officers and crewmen. I hope, for your sake, you will learn to do so again, but I refuse to give another day of my life to you. I have more important things to do."
Kathryn turned and walked to the edge of the stage, ignoring the explosion of questions from the press. Chakotay and most of her crew were already waiting for her. She looked over them and took Chakotay's hand. "Let's go home."