The first dance session had not been nearly as painful as Gretchen had imagined. After a couple of lessons, Gretchen found she was actually enjoying herself. The dance style she had chosen to teach Naomi and Sam was ballet, as it was both foundational for many other forms of dance, and also what Gretchen herself had started with all those years ago.

Twelve weeks in and she was proud of both of their progress, and quite certain that they could hold a recital if they wanted, though Gretchen herself was very firm about taking no part but direction.

"And finish like this," said Gretchen, as they finally ended their barre workout, "We're going to try leaps next. That'll be fun, Naomi."

"Yay!" said the red-headed girl, "Do you think I'll get as good as the Captain, mom?"

"What?" said Gretchen, stunned into silence.

"Oh, I was telling Naomi last night about the Captain's ballet performance," said Sam, "Of course she was quite impressed."

"The Captain danced ballet?"

"Yes," said Sam, "Naomi was too young to attend, but I was there when she performed for us. It was the first Talent Night on Voyager, we had only been in the Delta Quadrant a couple of years then."

"I didn't know she could dance," said Gretchen in shock, "Velocity….and she used to play tennis, but dance?"

"She was quite good," said Sam, "Well….nowhere near on your level, but very fluid…..you actually move something like her, you're both very graceful."

"I….." said Gretchen, staring at Sam still, wide-eyed, "What did she dance?" she stuttered finally, head spinning.

"The Dying Swan," answered Sam, "I looked it up last night. I remember her saying she had learned it when she was about six. It was a very artistic dance choice for a young child though. The Captain's manners must have been a little theatrical even then."

"You have to be kidding," said Gretchen, still blinking in shock.

"That sounds amazing!" said Naomi, cutting in, "I wish I could've been there! Do you remember anything else about it mom?"

"Well," said Sam, smiling cheerfully, "You'll get your chance to ask the Captain yourself. Our invitations came today!"

"Yay!" said Naomi, jumping up in excitement, before her face quickly turned concerned, "She waited a long time to ask us though, do you think she doesn't like us?"

"Why should we be first?" said Sam, smiling, "Everyone wants to spend time with the Captain."

"So you two have been invited to the Captain's Table?" asked Gretchen, letting herself be distracted from the recent revelation.

Captain Janeway had been inviting crew members to eat with her in her Quarters in small groups. The Captain's Table was a formal dinner held once a week, with fancy invitations, a course menu, and long conversations. It was incredibly popular with the crew and Gretchen knew Naomi had been anxiously awaiting her turn since the first dinner had taken place months ago.

"Yes we have," said Sam happily, turning to her again, "The invitation came right before our lesson. I was waiting for the right moment to tell Naomi. A week from today!"

"That's wonderful," said Gretchen, genuinely, "Naomi, let's start on those leaps now."

Mind still spinning, Gretchen finished the rest of the hour lesson.

When it was over she stood in the holodeck in silence, staring at the empty wall in confusion.

She knows ballet.

I knew that once, didn't I?

I must've.

Even if she didn't mention it, daddy would've, Tom, Sam herself...someone would've told me. I grew up on Voyager.

How did I forget?

Gretchen breathed in, very deeply.

More to the point, why did I forget?

Gretchen was restless all that night.

She could not remember.

Damn, thought Gretchen, lying on her bed in the too quiet room. All the times I begged and pleaded for the visions to stop...and now I miss them.

It was like truly being alone, as if her family had abandoned her again, had run off into the light, or the ether, and left her without even their memory.

She felt her eyes well and her heart sink.

That's not true is it? I have pictures and...

Gretchen gulped, a few still photographs and her own hazy recollection were nothing to the sounds of their voices, the texture of their faces, the feelings that the visions had given her, even if they were of death and pain.

They had been something, proof that although she was now alone, it hadn't always been that way.

Gretchen shook off the tears, unwilling to feel that way yet again.

She got off of her bed, bare feet hitting the metal floor, and she walked slowly to her small sitting room. Her Quarters were not cold or unfamiliar, but they were noiseless.

It was too early for anyone else to be free, and she debated for a moment if she wanted to call up her holographic counselor or another program. She had used the holodeck so much recently it did not seem appealing.

Gazing at the small space, her eyes fell to the cluttered corner, to the stack of items Tom had left her. She laughed suddenly as she saw again the old vintage TV set she had yet to use, and his very dated movie collection.

She remembered all the times they had watched the black and white productions in her timeline. On impulse she moved the TV to a better spot and put in "Captain Proton and the Volcanos of Doom".

The movie was so familiar that her mind began to drift. About a third of the way through, she gave into another impulse and grabbed her datapads, clicking through the few photographs that she had. She let the movie fill the background silence, as her eyes lingered on the pictures. As she saw the faces of her family again, and thought of Thomas who had left them for her, suddenly there was something on the edge of her memory.

Before she could change her mind Gretchen got up, and snatched the original data chip that she had from Thomas, and a computer to translate it. The original holographic program that had been with it was lost, it had died on the Borg cube due to Gretchen's own incompetence. Still, it should be possible to unlock the data. Thomas was a genius, he would've had a backup plan.

Thomas was a genius, but she had known him all her life. She knew how he thought.

And how well he knew her.

In the end it took less than 10 minutes to find it.

Gretchen gasped, and looked away, slamming the computer shut and rushing off to Tuvok's Quarters, knowing she would be unable to meditate. She stayed in the incensed room for hours anyway, staring at the wall. Then she changed into her uniform, and went in early to her Engineering shift.

Afterwards, after a frustrating wait for the holodeck to be free, Gretchen called up her therapist's program.

"What does it mean?" pleaded Gretchen, as she described what she had found in the data chip. Half a day later, and she still could not process it.

"It means whatever you want it to mean," said the woman's kind, lilting voice.

This is why I miss real people.

"I don't know what I want it to mean," said Gretchen, in frustration, "Why can't you just tell me? Aren't you supposed to be the best Starfleet has to offer?"

"Counseling isn't like fixing a broken leg," said the holographic woman, gently, "Even if I could tell you, it wouldn't help. Would Thomas taking your Engineering 5 final for you have done any good? He knew the answers, he could tutor you, but you had to learn the material for yourself."

"It took me 7 years to pass Engineering 5," said Gretchen in dismay, holding her head in her hands.

"And now look at you," said the woman, tone becoming encouraging, "Leading your own Task Force in Engineering. You could have barely imagined that at 17. That learning, that skill and experience is yours now, for the rest of your life. You use it everyday, what's 7 years to that?"

Gretchen sighed, angrily, head still in her hands, "Yes, I did this once. I don't want to do it again. My patience for that kind of thing was all used up by Engineering 5. Besides, I wouldn't have had to do that if she hadn't insisted on it. Once again I'm paying the price for what my damn mother wanted and decided."

"Yes," said the dark-haired woman sagely, "That's why I said it's your decision."

What do I want? thought Gretchen as she left the holodeck, frustrated.

What do I want?

She paced the empty deck, trying to think it through.

It's been almost five months since I really saw my mother...

The men will be waking up soon.

I've been putting this off but...

I suppose she deserves to know my decision...and maybe I deserve some answers.

So...do I just show up to her Quarters? Make an appointment?

We're not informal anymore...I can't just flop myself on the couch like I used to.

Gretchen walked back to her rooms, lost in thought. When she arrived she saw a hand-written envelope attached to the door.

She was not sure what to feel, but she squared her shoulders.

Well...I suppose that solves that anyway.