December, the 11th

Kathryn stood on the country lane in front of her home town again and again she followed the path through the familiar landscape. This time it was broad daylight and the streets of the town were full of life. Kathryn looked around curiously. Some changes had taken place during her absence. The bakery had a new shop sign and the bookstore had a new coat of paint. Kathryn remembered, how her mother had told her just before her departure that the MacKenzie sisters who owned the shop, had badly argued over the right color. Kathryn doubted whether this gaudy turquoise had really been worth it.

They passed Mr. Rabb on his bicycle. Mr. Rabb had been postman of this little town since Kathryn's childhood and was now delivering the last parcels and letters. It was amazing, that even after centuries; electronic communications had not displaced the handwritten letter completely. Although the letters, packages and parcels were just beamed to the nearest post office these days.

Kathryn ducked instinctively as a snowball flew by. It hit Clayton Webb, who had been mayor of the small community since time immemorial. He looked around for the culprits and soon he spotted two ten-year-old boys, who looked suspiciously innocent.

"Victor and Jason Sims! Did you throw the snowball?"

Sims – they had to be the Harriet's twin sons. In elementary school, Kathryn and Harriet Sims had been best friends, but then they lost sight of each other. Kathryn knew that Harriet became a mother, but she never found the time to visit her.

"Duty placed on life once again," she thought cynically.

Meanwhile, she and Picard reached her parents' house. This time the stars adorning the windows were a mixture of Phoebe's skillful stars and several clumsy attempts to make something out of paper that had a vague similarity to stars.

"Phoebe's children inherited their craftsmanship from me, I fear," Kathryn said dryly. Together with Picard she entered the living room. Nothing had changed. The couch, the fireplace, the bookshelf – everything was as Kathryn remembered it. The still undecorated Christmas tree was waiting in its corner, on the low coffee table stood a bottle of red wine and two glasses. Kathryn knew the brand, her mother's favorite. Genuine red wine with real alcohol, which was brought out only on special occasions. Kathryn stepped to the fireplace. The childhood pictures of Phoebe and herself on the mantelpiece were pushed into the background. Instead there was Phoebe's wedding picture, photos of Phoebe's children and in the front a picture of Kathryn in the uniform of a captain in Starfleet.

"Be careful, the box will fall apart soon." Kathryn spun around when she heard her mother's voice. Gretchen Janeway entered the living room together with Phoebe. Both women were laden with boxes. "What would Kathryn say when she comes home and discovers that you smashed our Christmas decorations?"

"You're still convinced that she's coming back, right?" Phoebe observed.

"Darling, you know, I've always believed in her coming home someday, even as it was said that they are all dead. Since we have regular contact now, I am firmly convinced – please pass me the box with the red balls, dear – Kathryn is stubborn as a mule. When she sets her mind on something there is nothing that will divert her from her path. I hope these people with whom she is out there know just how lucky they are having Kathryn as their captain."

"But once she had been diverted from her path," Phoebe said gloomily as she put the candles on the tree.

"You mean, when she wanted to drop out of Starfleet after Edward's death?" Gretchen looked warmly at her younger daughter. "You have not diverted her from her path. On the contrary, if someone is destined to fly into space, it's Kathryn. She is like her father. Edward would not have been happy, if I had tried to tie him to earth."

"But then they would still be here," said Phoebe.

"Maybe," Gretchen said, "But would they be the persons we love? I loved Edwards's adventurousness and his scientific curiosity. That's why I married him, and no pencil pusher. And Kathryn? Can you imagine what kind of a contentious and under-worked woman your sister would have become, if she'd not been thrown out into space?"

Phoebe smiled: "That's what I told her, too."

"And this is not less true just because Kathryn is a few thousand light years away from us. She's out there and doing what she loves and what she does best – and some day she will come back to us. I just know it."

Gretchen put the Christmas tree balls to the side, went to the living room table and poured herself and Phoebe a glass of the waiting red wine. "To Edward and Kathryn, wherever you are – Merry Christmas!"