Kathryn could hide in a book. There, Cardassians and manipulative mentors didn't exist. Complicated career choices didn't exist. And if she chose the right book, there wasn't a less-than-honest boyfriend to be found, either.
It was the place she'd retreated to every night in the three weeks she'd been home. Reading felt better than Starfleet's prescribed therapy, which so far had only served to give her a nasty case of insomnia and the occasional vague nightmare. So much for Starfleet's esteemed counselors .
The grandfather clock chimed three times in the darkness of her father's study, but it wasn't the clock that caught her attention. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she could see a figure darting in and out of the shadows behind the house.
Kathryn put down the PADD and turned to look out the window. Who in the world would be wandering around the backyard at this hour of the morning? Her heart was hammering and she wasn't sure why. She searched the backyard with her eyes. She saw no one. Her mind was playing tricks on her, she was sure of it.
Then the back door clicked open.
Panic flared in her like fuel on a fire. The door creaked and then quietly snapped shut. Her parents were asleep upstairs and her sister wasn't due home from school for another day. Who was this person? What did they want? Maybe it was a mistake.
Or maybe it wasn't. Kathryn quickly scanned the room for something to use to defend herself, her eyes falling on her father's desk. It was where he kept his phaser and though she knew the weapon wouldn't function without his palm print, it might be enough to scare off an intruder. She hurried over and pulled the drawer open.
Floorboards creaked as the person moved in her direction. Kathryn snatched the weapon from the drawer and backed up against the wall of her father's study. Heart hammering, finger trembling over the useless trigger, she peered out of the room.
It was Phoebe.
Kathryn breathed an exasperated sigh as she flopped down on the couch. Phoebe must've come back early from school, though why she'd returned at three in the morning was anyone's guess. Kathryn's hand still gripped the phaser as she closed her eyes to rest for a moment.
Maybe it was time to get a new counselor.
#
Warm sunlight on Kathryn's face woke her. Kathryn smiled languidly as her eyes opened to see her father, clad in comfortable civilian clothes and sitting in a chair in front of her. He looked calm and content. How long had he been sitting there? Kathryn's gaze drifted to his hands, where he cradled a small grey object: his phaser.
Kathryn's smile vanished.
Her father held up his service weapon. "Looking for this?" he asked. Kathryn quickly got to her feet, ignoring the dull ache in her back that she'd earned from falling asleep on the couch. She raised her chin in a weak attempt to conceal how mortified she felt.
"I heard someone in the house last night," she explained. "I thought that an intruder would be scared off if they saw I had a weapon."
Her father's right eyebrow rose. "You were worried about an intruder but didn't use the tricorder on my desk to see if you were right, or who it was. Instead you went for the phaser that doesn't work unless it's in my hand?"
"I was acting on instinct." She watched as his lips formed a flat line.
"I take it you figured out it was your sister, coming home from an end-of-term party?" He walked around to his desk and gently returned the weapon to its drawer and gestured for her to return to the couch.
"Yes, sir," she mumbled, taking her seat. He followed.
"I'm not your commanding officer, Kathryn, you can spare me the honorifcs. But I am one very concerned father right now. I was going to let you open up on your own terms, but you've been behaving like a frightened rabbit since you've been home." Worry creased his face. His interest in her well-being was no comfort. Instead she felt nervous, like he was about to lay down a gauntlet.
The elder Janeway dropped his chin and lowered his voice, looking at her with concern. "I'm not going to use my security clearance willy-nilly to find out what happened to you. I have no right to do that to soothe my parental worries. So I'm asking: Something bad happened on that mission, didn't it?"
Oh, he'd laid down the gauntlet, alright.
A lump formed in Kathryn's throat and she gazed out the window that had caused her so much trouble the night before. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Is talking better than me hypothesizing?" he asked. "Because right now what I know is that you're home six months early. You're literally looking over your shoulder when I meet you at Headquarters. And I've noticed you've started sleeping with a light on. When you're able to sleep," he added.
She turned back to look at him, anxiety and indecision causing her to wring her hands in her lap. The façade of the confident, fearless woman that she had always tried present to her father was cracking. Had cracked.
He folded his hands, his demeanor reminding Kathryn of a lawyer casually presenting evidence for trial. "Kathryn. Your ship was assigned to projects along the Cardassian border. You had special forces personnel on board, including your commanding officer. Lieutenant Commander Tighe, was it? If they were there, then I have to conclude that your ship was involved with the Cardassians. Directly. I don't like thinking that you were captured but that's where my thoughts have been headed."
Her eyes opened wide, caught off guard not by the second half of his comment, but by the first.
"I never told you Lieutenant Tighe was a special forces officer." In fact, she hadn't mentioned him at all since she'd been home. And why had he called him Lieutenant Commander Tighe? That would mean Justin had accepted the deep cover position. That couldn't be right. Justin had been sick just thinking about the idea.
"No. But you called me during your mission and mentioned that he was challenging to work with. You said it was nothing you didn't think you could handle. Comments like that usually mean you're struggling mightily." Kathryn frowned. She thought she had a better poker face than that. "I found out part of why you struggled with his leadership style this week, when he sent me a text communique."
Her head pulled back in surprise. Justin had contacted her father? Kathryn wanted to nail Justin to the wall.
"What did he want?" she asked mildly.
"Please stop deflecting, Goldenbird." Her father really wasn't going to let her go until she opened up to him. How much, though…
For a moment she covered her face with her hands, wishing he would just leave her alone. But that wasn't going to happen. There was only one choice.
"I'll tell you," she conceded, letting her hands fall to her sides. "But it matters to me personally, to know why Lieutenant Commander Tighe contacted you."
Her father looked at her curiously. "It was nothing to do with you. He needed information for a mission he was preparing for. How did what happened on your mission involve Lieutenant Commander Tighe?"
Instantly she felt lightheaded. It looked like Justin hadn't chosen the policy job after all. He was going behind enemy lines. Kathryn now perched anxiously on the edge of the couch. Was her father trying to blame Justin for how she'd been acting? She had to squelch the swell of anger in her chest and speak calmly. "Yes, he was involved, but not in the way you may think. Did he say when he was leaving?"
"No. Kathryn, please. I know you don't want help, but I can still support you. But I can't support you if you don't talk to me. "
Kathryn barely heard her father through the anxious thoughts that filled her head. Maybe she could catch Justin before he left. There might be time to say goodbye, to work things out or to end everything neatly.
Her father stared at her. Kathryn straightened.
"Lieutenant Tighe…Lieutenant Commander Tighe…we're involved. Were involved," she corrected. "We got involved after Admiral Paris and I became trapped on a planet the Cardassians annexed. He led the away mission to rescue us." Hopefully that sanitized version of the events would keep her father from worrying. Or prying.
A look of pure paternal concern flashed across her father's eyes. She thought she could see him start to reach out as if to embrace her before he decided against it. Instead he only spoke.
"God, I'm sorry, Kathryn. Is there anything I can do?"
She folded her hands, looking at the floor. Could he help? Did she want him to? Could he make Owen Paris her trustworthy mentor again? Or stop her heart from beating in terror at the fleeting sight of any large, pale man with dark hair before she realized they weren't Cardassian?
No. But there was something else he could do. Her eyes met her father's.
"You can let me go find out what happened to the man who saved my life. Now. And know that I'll sit down with you later and tell you about what happened."
His eyes searched hers, his lips pressed together so hard they were turning white. Then he walked over to his comconsole.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
She watched as he tapped away at the keypad. "I'm seeing if there's anything I'm allowed to tell you about where your friend might be." Kathryn was still blinking in surprise when he shut off the console moments later and turned to her, shaking his head. "Lieutenant Commander Tighe's mission began yesterday. Everything else is redacted. Even for me. "
Her stomach sank. "So he's gone."
Her father gave her a palms-up gesture. "Maybe. But only those directly involved in his mission can see those details." He tapped a PADD. "This is the address for the officers' quarters he was assigned to. It's still assigned to him." With an outstretched hand, he offered it to her. "It can't hurt to talk to the people he's spent the last few weeks with." Wide-eyed, she looked at the PADD, memorizing the address.
"Thanks, Dad," she whispered, then stood and made to leave the room.
"Oh, Kathryn?" She looked back at him expectantly. "If you do put things back together with this young man—when he gets back, tell him he's welcome to dinner."
A gentle smile crossed her face. With that she turned on her heel and walked out of her father's study, headed for the community transport center.
#
The sixth floor hallway of the officers' residence was empty. Kathryn stood in front of the doors and read the label: Officer Dormitory Apartment 8C. She rang the chime. There was no response. She rang it again.
Nothing.
Her mind floated back to her last moments with Justin, watching his pained face in the mirror of the dance studio on the holodeck when she'd been angry he wasn't admitting the deep hurt he'd inflicted on her. But other images came back unbidden: strong arms that wrapped around her and kept her safe from nightmares of large soldiers with grey skin. Dark blue eyes that lit when she stepped out of her uniform. The broad smile before a laugh when she burned dinner for the third time in a week.
She rested her head against the door, inhaling her regret like smoke from a fire, when suddenly the door opened. Kathryn found herself falling and cried out, only to be caught by a pair of wiry arms in a blue uniform. Her eyes snapped up.
It was Darren Ditillo.
"Woah, easy, Janeway." Ditillo let her go and Kathryn righted herself. She smoothed her disheveled hair.
"Lieutenant Ditillo. Is Lieutenant Commander-"
"You mean Justin." Ditillo stepped back into the apartment and swept his arm out for her to enter. "Come inside, Kathryn. There's a lot we need to talk about."
The door hissed closed and he indicated for her to sit at the dining table. Darren walked to the replicator and requested two mugs of hot, black coffee. "You've saved me a trip," he offered casually, retrieving the beverages and bringing them to her. He took a seat opposite and nudged a mug in her direction. "Justin asked me to stop by his apartment to pick up something he wanted you to have. That's why I'm at his quarters."
Kathryn ignored her curiosity about what the 'something' was and focused on the reason she was there. "Can you tell me where he is?"
Darren shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. I can tell you he's on a mission."
"In Cardassian territory," Kathryn suggested.
"Yes."
She paled, her fears confirmed. Darren leaned forward and folded his hands on the table. "Kathryn, I can tell you're worried, but this is what the Rangers do. It's why we exist and it's what we train for. And Justin is very good at his job." Kathryn hid her frown of disbelief behind the coffee mug and took a long drag of the bitter liquid. "The question is, why are you here? Something tells me you two didn't exactly part on the best of terms."
How did he know? She put down the mug. "Either you're psychic, or the two of you are closer than I might have thought."
"We went to Ranger school together. Justin doesn't say much, but when I asked him how you were and he avoided the question, I had a feeling one of you had broken off your relationship." Darren reached into a concealed pocket in his uniform and produced an isolinear chip and offered it to her across the table. "He asked me to pick up this message for you and give it to you only if you contacted me about him. Which you now have."
Damn, the man was respecting her request for space even when he wasn't around to do it himself.
Darren added, "I don't know what's come to pass, Kathryn, but I can tell he wants to make it right."
She crossed her arms. "And what makes you think that?"
"I know he wants to come back from this mission alive ."
She blinked, stunned. "Are you telling me he was suicidal on past missions?
Darren shook his head. "Not suicidal, no. But, until he met you, I've never known him to think he was anything more than disposable ."
Her eyes opened wide. "Excuse me?"
Darren leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. "In Ranger school, Justin wasn't there because he wanted to be 'the best that he could be.' He said he was there because he'd watched enough of his family and friends get killed in mining accidents that he wanted to have a worthwhile death. I thought it was morose as hell. It took me a long time to realize that, where he's from, getting to choose your own death is success."
Kathryn inclined her head in memory. "He told me something about that once. Said he couldn't be afraid of death to do what he did for a living."
"He didn't care if he lived or died. It made him fearless, one of the best of us."
Kathryn's eyes narrowed in confusion. "But you said he wanted to live. Why would he choose to go out on what sounds to me like a suicide mission?"
Darren's face became stone serious. "Because of what happened two years ago."
"When he was tortured?"
He shook his head. "That plays a role, sure. But there's a piece of his life you don't know about. He's not going to be happy I'm telling you, but until you know, I don't think you'll fully understand why he's such a challenge for most people to deal with. Apart from being a genius, that is."
Justin guarded his privacy fiercely and everyone around him knew it.
"Then maybe you shouldn't tell me," she suggested.
"No. He can kick my ass when he gets back. But I suspect he'll be kicking his own ass for the rest of his life if you walk away forever." Kathryn shot him a doubtful look.
But both she and Justin trusted the man in front of her. She would let Darren make the call.
"Alright, Darren. If you think it's for the best."
He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, his hands opening like a book. "I don't think it's the torture two years ago that Justin struggles with the most. I think he's struggling with the fact that every single person on his team was either captured, killed or injured, and they didn't even complete their mission. Justin was leading that team. After he was captured, his captain sent in dozens more officers to try to complete the job his team couldn't. They failed, too, and 21 more people died."
Kathryn could instantly sense the crushing weight of all those bodies. "And Justin blames himself for those losses."
Darren nodded. "The torture would've been bad enough for anyone to recover from, but Justin had a world-class case of survivor's guilt immediately thrown on top of it. Yet somehow it only seemed to make him stronger. After Starfleet Medical released him, he did everything he could to return to the front lines. He said he owed it to the ones who died to get back out there.
"So you have to understand, Justin is on a mission—literally—to try to make up for what went wrong two years ago. The policy job wouldn't have given him that chance and it would've killed him to be stuck behind a desk for the rest of his career. Not all at once, but a day at a time."
Now Justin's indecision was beginning to make sense. This was the reason a choice that sounded so simple to her had been so difficult for him.
A silence fell between them. Kathryn leaned back in her seat and wrapped her arms around herself as the puzzle pieces fell into place. "So this search for…redemption…that's why he took the mission on the Icarus, even with the chance he would face the Cardassians again? I don't see how protecting a junior science officer and an Admiral would help avenge the loss of his brothers and sisters in arms."
"You tell me. Or better yet, get him to tell you." Darren leaned back in his seat. "But either way, Justin would rather die than let a mission fail. Problems were inevitable when you became the mission."
Her eyebrow rose. Darren could see her confusion and explained. "For the first six months on the Icarus , it was his mission to make sure you came home alive. Also for the first six months on the Icarus, he treated you like an incompetent secretary. Coincidence? Admit it, Janeway. You don't need your Ph.D. to answer that question."
She looked away. At least least it was validating that Darren seemed incensed about how Justin had treated her, despite knowing all of the reasons.
"Kathryn, I could tell Justin was crazy about you from the start. Love can make the best of us stupid and distracted. He realized he was starting to feel something for you and he knew it could affect his judgment. Impaired judgment affects the mission. And when the woman you've fallen head over heels for is the mission? Oh, yeah, he felt he was in a bind."
Now she folded her arms on the table and scowled. "As he tried to tell me, it meant that I'm alive to complain about it."
"Did he ever apologize?"
She shifted in her seat. "Actually, that was…what we had our difference of opinion about. He made excuses. I asked for space."
"Don't get me wrong. Justin has excuses, some of which aren't very good. But he also has some that are." Darren made a broad, sweeping glance around the sterile room to indicate its contents, or lack thereof. "The Justin Tighe I knew didn't expect to come home from missions. It's why he keeps next to nothing in his quarters." He pointed to the chip in her hands. "But that Justin Tighe wants to live, because of you. Watch the message, Janeway. I'll go."
Darren stood and they exchanged goodbyes. Kathryn stared at the chip in her hands, standing in the silence of the room for a moment after the door closed. Then she walked over to Justin's desk and inserted the chip into the comconsole.
"Computer, play message."
