XIII

Benjamin Maxwell sat in the Ready Room, just off the Bridge of the Romulan shuttle. The ship really wasn't a "shuttle" in the same manor that the Delta Flyer, or even Phantom was. It was about half the size of Voyager, which could carry a crew compliment of approximately sixty. This particular ship only had nine individuals on it, which was enough to run it when needed.

Maxwell was in a pickle, and he knew it. He had allowed his hatred for Starfleet and The Federation to drive him into making a deal with Sloan, a man who he had met years ago, after he was released from prison for his crimes against the Cardassians. Sloan had promised him the keys to Starfleet Command, to run The Fleet under Sloan's direction, if he was successful in his long-term plans to usurp The Federation. Even then, Maxwell thought only of revenge, against people like Jean-Luc Picard, and Will Riker, for putting him behind bars. Yet he felt he had the wherewithal to command Starfleet.

Before he went on his rampage against the Cardassians, Ben Maxwell had been a highly decorated officer, and was still on the rise. He was a tactical genius-he had Phoenix running Enterprise in circles for a time on his killing spree-and he was considered a keen strategist. Yet all that was gone now.

He had let so much animosity get in his way, he knew that now. He had even grudgingly accepted the assist from Commander Sela, and the now-dead Romulan War Bird. There was no way Sloan's latest "plan" had any chance of success, and he knew it. Even Sela was ready to cut and run.

Sloan was thinking quickly at the moment. He knew he needed to end his involvement in this fool's errand, even though he knew he'd end up back in prison. It beat being vaporized in Starfleet Headquarters.

The ship was still cloaked. That meant that the shields were down. A cloaked ship of this design couldn't extend shields or fire, unlike the more advanced Phantom that Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres had helped design, but without the shield...

The ship was stationed twenty-seven thousand kilometers above Earth, in a very high geosynchronous orbit. Well within range, he thought. Now his next quandary: where? That wasn't an easy question to answer, but Maxwell put his mind to it. Somewhere not too obvious, he thought with a wry inner smile. After thinking on it for another few minutes, he came to a conclusion about that.

The next question: how? The mechanism to do this was simple enough, but he needed to do this without anyone else knowing. He pondered on that for a few more minutes. Since he currently had the watch, along with two other crew members, the others being asleep, that decision presented himself soon enough to his sharp mind.

The Qeh, as well as this shuttle, had upgraded language banks that allowed Sloan and Maxwell to talk to the computer in English, which was a godsend right now for Maxwell. He rose from his chair, advised the woman at the helm he was going briefly to his quarters, but would be back in a few minutes. The woman nodded without responding.

He was in his quarters long enough to pack a few clothes in a small bag, along with a few personal items, left the bag in his quarters, then headed back to the Ready Room.

Once there, he acted. "Computer." The system blurped in recognition, how many members of the crew are currently awake."

This computer had a male Human voice, which was disconcerting after hearing the melodic voice of a female his whole career. "Three members of the crew are currently awake. The others are in sleep mode."

"OK", Maxwell said aloud to himself. "Computer, release compound Polyanure Ether into the ship, excluding the Ready Room, three parts per million."

"Affirmative, Polyanure Ether, three parts per million has been released into the ship, with the exception of this location."

"Computer, how long will the occupants remain unconscious due to the Ether?"

"Polyanure Ether, at three parts per million, will render individuals unconscious for approximately forty-five minutes."

"Computer, are all other occupants of the ship currently unconscious?"

"Affirmative. All other occupants are unconscious."

"Very good", Maxwell nodded. "Computer return environmental levels to normal, removing any remaining Ether from the atmosphere."

"Affirmative. Environmental levels returning to normal."

Maxwell waited an extra five minutes, just to make sure the air had been recirculated a few times before stepping out. He saw the two crewmen slumped over their consoles, the one that was in the First Officer's chair, and the one at the helm.

He went to his quarters, grabbed the small bag, and headed to the transporter. When he arrived, he gave the computer more instructions. "Computer, erase the previous conversation from the log, authorization Maxwell Beta-Charlie-7-9-Delta."

"Affirmative, all recent conversations erased."

He stepped up to the transporter controls, and punched in some coordinates, then headed over to the pad. "Computer, beam me to the coordinates that I have entered into the computer, then set a course to the coordinates I have sent to the helm, and then erase any evidence of the transport, or the helm instructions, authorization Maxwell Beta-Alpha-4-9-2. Execute."

With that, Benjamin Maxwell disappeared off the ship.

Chateau Picard, France

Jean-Luc Picard was slowly going through the rows of grapes that adorned the Picard Vineyard. It had been in his family for well over two hundred years. His late brother Robert, had run it after their father had passed away. As he had become older, he had finally grown in interest in the family business. He didn't do most of the work-hired hands did that, and the hired hands were usually overseen by his two Romulan friends, Laris and Zhaban. They were both currently visiting friends in Russia.

He did have Elnor, Raffi, and Soji with him. He had been teaching the young Romulan male about grapes, and wines, and the young man showed an affinity for it. Raffi would rather just drink the finished product, which didn't surprise Picard.

Soji Asha was walking with him as he checked the vines. She, Raffi, and Elnor had been on the plantation when Picard was dealing with the situation involving Seven of Nine. All of that seemed to be calming down.

"I miss talking to Seven", Soji said, picking one grape off of a vine, and chomping on it. No, she certainly wasn't her father, Data. Both she and Picard were advanced synths, that could eat, drink, and even die. Picard often wished Data could have tasted a good wine. "But I have a feeling she's going to be tied up in San Francisco for a while."

"Yes, she will be", Picard agreed. "Fortunately, Admiral Janeway has recovered nicely, and it's understandable that Seven wants to stay close to her for now."

"They have a thing for each other, don't they?"

Picard grinned over at the young woman. "A 'thing'? Who taught you to say that." He held up his hand as she began to respond. "Ah, you don't need to tell me. That definitely has the ring of Raffi Muskier to it."

Soji laughed. "Yeah, Raffi likes Seven a lot, too, but she understands the bond between Seven and the Admiral. But I still think it hurts her a little."

"I know it does", Picard agreed. "I saw the look in Raffi's eyes the first time they met. Seven has that effect on a lot of people."

"Yeah, no doubt about that", Soji laughed again. "What do you think of them as a couple?"

"Seven and Kathryn?" Soji nodded. "Two strong, highly intelligent, highly motivated, nerve-rackingly stubborn woman." Picard laughed along with Soji this time. "And as fearless as any people I've ever met", he said with genuine admiration. "If they don't let their egos get in the way, I'd say it's a match mate in Heaven."

Soji noticed a sudden blue light far behind Picard. She had enough experience now to know when someone was being beamed somewhere. "Admiral", Soji said with only mild alarm, "someone just arrived."

"What..."

He turned and looked at the person who was about three hundred meters away, coming toward him. "Soji, do you have the phaser I gave you for protection?"

"Of course", she replied, now becoming more worried. "I keep it with me all the time."

"May I borrow it?"

Soji hesitated, then handed the weapon to Picard. "Stay here, young lady."

She wasn't going anywhere as she saw Picard move toward the figure approaching. It was definitely a Human male, and he suddenly put his hands over his head in a sign of surrender. Raffi and Elnor had been watching from further away, and both were rushing over toward Picard. Since the man seemed not to be armed, she moved that way, too.

"Hello, Picard", the visitor said, with a grim smile on his face.

"I guess the the news of your death has been exaggerated, Maxwell", Picard said in return, still pointing the phaser at the man. "I would think I'm the last person you'd want to see."

"I'm not armed, Jean-Luc", Benjamin Maxwell insisted. At that moment, Soji, Raffi, and Elnor arrived, Maxwell looking at them.

"Raffi", Picard said, his eyes not leaving the former Captain of the U.S.S Phoenix, "would you be kind enough to frisk Captain Maxwell?"

Raffi wasn't quite sure what was going on, although she had heard Picard mention the name Maxwell before, but she didn't hesitate. "You bet, JL", she said, moving to the man and expertly patting him down. "He's clean."

Picard lowered the weapon. Out of instinct, Elnor tried to step in front of his mentor, but Picard gently held him at bay.

"Why are you here, Captain? And just as importantly, how did you get here?"

Maxwell actually laughed. "It's an interesting story, and one I'm prepared to tell you. I assume you know how to contact Riker?"

"Of course I do", Picard nodded. "Why do you ask?"

"I'd like him present when I tell my story." He held up his hand as Picard began to speak again. "I expect to go back to jail, Picard, and I will do so willingly, but let's just say that I've had second thoughts about following Sloan any longer."

"Sloan is still alive, too?"

Maxwell became more serious. "Get Riker here, and we'll talk."

The Janeway Farm, Bloomington, Indiana

Kathryn Janeway had never been one who liked to stay still, or be doted on. She had been the worst patient on Voyager among a shipload of bad patients. It was probably a good thing their doctor on the ship was the EMH, lest the Voyager crew would have sent him into a nervous breakdown.

The more things change, Kathryn thought, the more they stayed the same.

Not only was The Doctor here, but so was Seven...which she didn't actually mind. And so was Tom, B'Elanna and Miral. That was in addition to her sister, Phoebe. All of them had been waiting on her hand and foot.

She had been released from Starfleet Medical two days before, treated by Dr. Beverly Crusher, who, with the concurrence of the EMH, had told her a week of bed rest, just to make sure she was completely healed.

"Phoebes", Kathryn said, her tummy full, "I can't eat another bite. I'm stuffed!"

"Nonsense, sis", Phoebe Janeway replied with a smile. "Surely you have room for at least one homemade brownie?"

Kathryn licked her lips. There had been nothing in the Universe better than her mother's brownies. Gretchen Janeway had been a Traditionalist. She had cooked all her food from scratch. Kathryn thanked God for that on many occasions. After rebelling against the Traditionalist ways for years, Phoebe had settled back home after their mother had died, and was almost as good a cook as their mom had been. "Well", she said, a thin smile curling her lips, "I do think I have room for one brownie."

"That's what I thought", Phoebe said with a wink, heading back toward the kitchen.

"You've always told me your mom's brownies were the best, Kathryn?"

Janeway chuckled. "I did, didn't I?" She looked at Seven sadly. "I'm sorry it took me this long for me to keep my promise for you to come to Indiana, Seven."

"There is nothing to be sorry for", the younger woman objected. "I was just as much at fault in my own way as you. But we are here, now, and that's all that matters, isn't it?"

Kathryn put her hand over Seven's. "Thank you for taking care of me, Seven. I'm not an easy patient."

"Truer words have never been spoken by you, Kathryn Janeway."

"Oh, yeah?" Janeway gave her a mock glare, but with a smile on her face. "I don't know how I feel about that statement."

"She's right, Admiral." The Doctor had entered the room, giving Seven a smile, Seven trying to hold back a laugh. "It's probably the most accurate statement you've ever made."

"I'm being ganged up on", Janeway said with a pout. At that moment, Phoebe returned, with B'Elanna in her wake.

"Oh, suck it up, Janeway", Torres said with a smirk of her own. "You always made me look like a model patient in Sickbay." Everyone laughed.

"OK, you guys are supposed to be taking care of me, not ganging up on me!" Everyone laughed again.

"You know we're only kidding, Kathryn", Seven said, looking at her former commander. "It's a burden of love, you know?"

"It is?"

Everyone looked at B'Elanna, who couldn't keep the laughter from following her words.

"Torres", Kathryn said, trying to look stern...but then crumbling into her own laughter. "Oh, what the hell." The laughter increased.

Tom and Miral had been out gathering some more food in Bloomington for Phoebe, the two of them arriving back a few minutes later.

Kathryn couldn't help but look around proudly at the family and friends...no, she amended, the family she had around her. They were all family, that much she knew. It had sustained her in the Delta Quadrant, and, despite some years wandering alone, she had them back. She would never take them for granted again.

As they were relaxing that night in the farmhouse, Seven remembered a promise she had made to B'Elanna and Tom. She had been sitting next to Kathryn, when she looked over at Miral, talking to her mother. Seven rose from her seat. "Miral, I wonder if you would like to go out and sit on the swing and talk with me for a while."

Miral Paris' eyes lit up. "Khaless, I'd love to, Aunt Seven." She looked at her mom.

"Get out of here you two", B'Elanna said with shining eyes. She was happy that Miral admired Seven so much, and knew that the separation from her "aunt", had bothered her daughter for a number of years.

Miral and Seven were on the swing in a matter of seconds, looking out over the warm evening. "It's been so long since we've talked, Aunt Seven", Miral said, leaning into the older women. "When I was younger, we used to talk for hours."

"We did, didn't we?" Seven hugged the younger lady. "I'm so sorry I abandoned you for so long, Miral", she said with palpable sadness in her voice. "I was in a bad way for such a long time. And I brought shame on everyone I knew with my actions."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Seven", Miral advised her. "What happened to Chakotay was awful, and what they did to Icheb..." Miral had been not even a teenager when Icheb had been killed. She not only looked up to Seven, but had looked up to Icheb and Naomi Wildman as well, both of them being older friends for her once they arrived back on Earth. "As a part-Klingon, I understand the need you had to avenge his death."

"I don't regret killing Bjayzl, Miral", Seven said with a shaky voice. "She deserved it, but...I went far over the line, when I attacked the Romulan and Ferengi outposts. Not only did I step way beyond a line that Starfleet would consider justifiable, but even beyond the line of what the Rangers feel was justified."

"It's behind us now, Aunt Seven", Miral said softly, as she put her head on Seven's shoulder once again. "I'm just glad I didn't lose you." They were silent for a few minutes, when Miral spoke again. "So, you and Aunt Kathryn are gonna finally make a go of it?"

"Miral Paris...", Seven began.

"Don't Miral Paris me, Aunt Seven", she said with a laugh. "You don't think I see the way you two look at each other? You two are perfect together. It's about damn time, as mom would say."

Seven rolled her eyes. "You are your mother's daughter, Miral Torres", Seven said with a laugh, then she became serious. "I think that's what will happen. We still are trying to figure things out. Things were so bad for so long between us..."

"But you're both here now, Seven, and you can't let the chance slip by."

Seven looked at the younger Paris, who was taller than her mom, but much shorter than her father. "When did you become so smart?"

Miral smirked. "Good breeding?"

Seven burst out laughing. "I won't argue with that. Even if I did, your mother would have words with me." She turned and gave Miral a warm, loving hug. "I'm so glad you're back in my life, Miral."

"I love you, Aunt Seven", Miral said sweetly. "I always have, and always will. You aren't getting rid of me this time."

Seven laughed again. "So tell me, what are you planning to do after graduating next year from Kent State?"

The two women talked for over an hour, both reveling in the normalcy of their conversation.