The crowds were nice. After all those years of the Delta Quadrant, and all those sleepless nights wondering how she was supposed to get a hundred and fifty souls home, she had to admit it – it was nice to be appreciated. She'd been Starfleet's emissary to a hundred species across the Delta Quadrant, but now, it felt like she was expected to be Starfleet's emissary to the Federation itself.

The Dominion War had hit hard. She'd been catching up on it. The price in lives and ships had been extremely heavy. But that hadn't been all of the price, she thought. Some of it had been exacted on the souls of those who survived; the veterans and civilians alike.

All the same, Captain Kathryn Janeway thought, if Starfleet wanted heroes, then why did they throw some of them in the brig? Some of her crew had been former Maquis. She knew that. But they'd served for seven years with honor. Didn't that earn a pardon? But no, they had to face justice for crimes they'd committed long ago. Janeway thought it was ridiculous.

She had even suggested leniency for the Equinox crew. All of them had served admirably on Voyager, particularly Gilmore and Lessing. Slightly over a year had given her some perspective on the situation. All the same, she didn't feel their prosecutions had been ridiculous at all. It nagged at her sometimes, and she wondered if she was being fair. She had her own lapses to account for during the Equinox affair.

Now she stood in the middle of the crowd, people thrusting out PADDS for autographs, cameras, anything to record their presence to a living legend. Not two minutes ago she had exchanged brief greetings with her haunted ex-crewman. Then, Gilmore had inspired a bit of compassion in her. She'd looked wan and lost. She'd thought simply to let the younger woman on with a kind word or two, then head to Chakotay's hearing. All she wanted to do was convince the Starfleet Board of Inquiry that Chakotay could be set at liberty during his hearing. All of the former Maquis deserved that.

They'd let Tom go. Not because he had served proudly and heroically on Voyager, even though he had. No, they'd let him go because the illustrious Board of Inquiry had determined that a), Thomas Paris had been lawfully transferred to Kathryn Janeway's custody aboard Voyager, b) Thomas Paris had not been responsible for Voyager's transport to the Delta Quadrant, and c) Thomas Paris's Maximum Release Date, as computed by Federation Correctional Law 226.1(c) had already been reached. Therefore he, alone among the Maquis, had been released. Also, the Board of Inquiry had determined that Captain Kathryn Janeway was, in fact, entitled to offer field commissions as permitted by Starfleet regulations, and therefore he would remain Ensign Thomas Paris of USS Voyager until reassigned by superior officers. She was glad for Paris, but the whole thing was nothing but ridiculous bureaucracy.

She shook her head. Here she was, on Earth. She was going to ask for Chakotay to be released. She'd seen Gilmore and tried to be nice. Then she'd meant to continue on her way to the Starfleet Justice Annex. Then...

She blinked her eyes. It looked like a group of people had hustled Marla Gilmore into a van and disappeared. There was something disorienting about it, as if a pink elephant had tapdanced across Market Street and then instantly disappeared. This was Earth, and things like that didn't happen here. Not next to the buildings housing Starfleet's Justice Annex, for heaven's sake. It just couldn't happen.

Had it? It was hard to tell; it had just happened so fast. One moment she'd caught a glimpse of the young woman meandering slowly down the street; the next it looked like she was being shoved into the van; and in the next, everything was fine again. Normality had sifted back down like a fine damask tablecloth to cover a gouged table. There was so little time. She wasn't sure if what she had seen was licit or illicit.

Janeway took a step down the street, not sure whether what she had thought she had seen was what she really had seen. There didn't seem to be much about it she could do anyway. The crowd was following her, waving holocameras and PADDS, all calling her name. Captain Janeway, can I have your autograph? Captain Janeway, can I get a picture? Captain Janeway? Captain Janeway? Captain Janeway? Captain Janeway?

"Captain Janeway?"

She recognized the voice and turned. Lieutenant Tom Paris stood nearby, resplendent in his own Starfleet uniform. Next to him, Seven of Nine stood and looked out over the crowd with imperious grace.

"Tom. Seven." She was still feeling strangely disoriented; partly from what she had just seen (or had she?) and partially from having a crowd follow her around everywhere she went. "What are you doing here?"

Paris shrugged. "The same as you, ma'am," he said. "We were here to testify for Chakotay. And...well, of course I want to see B'Elanna."

She cleared her throat, all too aware that the crowd would hear every word she said. "Tom, did you see Marla Gilmore just now?"

He shook his head. He, unlike most of Voyager's senior crew, did not scowl when her name was mentioned. Paris had always been a bit softer towards the Equinox crew; she supposed it came from his own past failures and redemption. His answer didn't please her. "I'm sorry, Captain. Seven and I just got off the train. I just brought her here from her aunt's."

Janeway shook her head for a moment. "She was just here," she said dazedly. "Maybe I'm going crazy, but I could've sworn I saw some people grab her and stuff her in a van." She shook her head again. "Never mind. It's probably just stress."

Seven favored Janeway with the same unconsciously haughty look she'd always used on Voyager.

"Captain, were you referring to the young blonde woman ninety-six point two meters south-southeast of our position? Stopped by a man approximately two meters tall, and brought into the white cargo van which took flight thirty-eight seconds later and followed bearing two-two-five to the shipyard boarding platforms?"

As it had many times before, the thought Seven will always be Seven warped through her mind. Janeway turned to the taller woman.

"Yes," she breathed. "You saw it too?"

"I did. Was this behavior out of the norm?"

Janeway found herself pulling up the automatic extra measure of patience that was often required with Seven.

"Of course it was out of the norm," she rasped. "What did you think? Get security!"

Seven took a moment to defend herself. "Civilian social behavior on Earth has been extremely varied and challenging to grasp. On Voyager the crew behaved with significantly more predictability and efficiency. I have no reason to suspect that Earth civilians might not hurl each other in vans."

Technically, Seven was correct, an occurrence that was frustratingly familiar. She repeated her command. "I realize that, Seven. Inform the security detail at Starfleet Justice Annex. They can alert local authorities and pull their holocamera logs."

"At once, captain." Seven turned away, raised her chin high, and strode away towards the building at high speed. Janeway swallowed and checked her chronometer. She didn't have much time. The familiar feeling of division pulled at her; she was torn two different ways. She wanted to find out what had happened to her errant crewman, but she also had to testify for Chakotay, and there were only five minutes until his hearing.

"You didn't see anything, Paris?" she asked.

The younger man shook his head. "Sorry, Captain," he said. "It's just...you know...with B'elanna in jail, it's been sort of hard. I never would've believed they'd arrest the Maquis, after everything they've done."

Kathryn Janeway understood that far better than she would have ever admitted. They ascended the steps and entered the building. "I know. Hopefully all this nonsense will be over with soon." She saw Seven standing at the security desk speaking with the security guard on duty, who seemed to be taking a report with disinterest. That feeling of being pulled two places at once struck at her again. She took a breath. Seven could handle it. The Borg ought to be able to deal with bureaucracy, couldn't they? It occurred to her that during the voyage home, Seven had struck up a reasonably friendly working relationship with Marla Gilmore.

A large data screen in the central hallway bore the names of cases that were coming up. She scanned it for a moment. Starfleet Board of Inquiry in re Chakotay, 0900, Room D-104. Starfleet Board of Inquiry in re Torres, 0930, Room D-104. As she watched it, the numbers suddenly flickered and changed.

Starfleet Board of Inquiry in re Torres 1100, Room D-104

Starfleet Board of Inquiry in re Chakotay 1130, Room D-106

She let out a frustrated groan. Tom looked over and his face twisted in anger. She knew exactly how he felt. She stormed over to a court employee and indicated the screen.

"Can you tell me why these cases have been delayed?" she asked.

The young woman tapped away on her screen. "A brief delay was requested so that Starfleet personnel would be able to testify in the cases in re Torres and in re Chakotay," she said.

"Starfleet personnel? Like who?" Janeway tried to keep the anger out of her voice. If she antagonized the bureaucrats, they might take it out on Chakotay and Torres. The bright-eyed young PADD-pusher examined her screen.

"Actually, ma'am," she said thoughtfully, "it's because there are many witnesses testifying for both of them. Lieutenant Tom Paris, Ensign Harry Kim, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok--," she squinted and looked puzzled, "er, Annika Seven Ninehansen, Captain Kathryn Janeway...it looks like about forty or fifty witnesses from the Voyager crew will be testifying."

That mollified her, although it didn't surprise her. Her Starfleet crew had largely adapted to the Maquis in their midst without much problem. It hadn't been an issue for years. They would come to bat for their fellows.

"I am Captain Janeway," she informed the court employee. "Now tell me, Ensign. Why can these people not testify at nine hundred hours but can testify at eleven hundred?"

The young woman paled and swallowed. "I'm sorry, Captain Janeway," she said, and actually sounded apologetic. "I don't make the rules. I just...," she flushed and looked away.

Janeway sighed. "I realize that, Ensign."

The woman's hands scrabbled nervously over something, and a few moments later she handed Janeway an isolinear chip. "I'm very sorry, Captain," she said. "I can't do anything about the delay, but I can give you this."

Janeway studied the chip for a moment. "What is this?"

"Official permission to visit inmates Torres and Chakotay," the woman said, and smiled nervously. "You could see them while you wait. If you like."

Janeway sighed. "Thank you, Ensign," she said, and stalked through the crowd back to Paris. He didn't look happy either.

"Gotta love bureaucracy," he quipped, his anger contained but visible beneath his wit.

"I know. Once this is over, let's take Voyager, find a wormhole, and go back to the Delta Quadrant. At least there we know what we're dealing with." She indicated the chips. "We can see them, at least, if you want."

"I'm in," Tom smiled.

Seven approached and raised an eyebrow. "Security has been informed. They state they will look into it. They informed me there have been a rash of muggings and petty crime recently. Local police will likely be able to handle the matter."

"Thank you, Seven," Janeway said, and found herself hoping Marla Gilmore would be all right. But Chakotay needed her now. She got in line below the sign that read Inmate visitors this way. No shoving or spitting. No line cutting. All visitors must be prepared for scanning and search. All packages must be declared.

Stupid bureaucracy. It was almost as if they were out to get her.

...

Starfleet's docking facilities and shipyards floated majestically above Earth, just outside of the atmosphere. Benning always thought it was a marvelous sight. The spacedock floated over the majestic curve of the Earth like a valiant subject. Earth itself was beautiful from orbit; clouds, water, green and brown landmasses. He gazed out the shuttle's viewport at North America.

It was this he was sworn to protect. Others out there would prefer to see these spacedocks shattered and destroyed; the Earth below reduced to ash and cinders. He'd seen reports from the mirror universe, where it was so. He would never allow anything like that to happen. Whatever it took, whatever deeds were required, the Federation would endure brave and free.

He didn't know exactly how the young woman who lay stretched out in the shuttlebay's rear figured into protecting Earth and the Federation, only that she did somehow. He had his orders from above, and that was all he needed. He had an abridged version of her file. She'd been on the Equinox. He wasn't sure exactly what it was that she had done on the Equinox, but it had attracted the interest of Section 31, and when Section 31 became interested in something, it acted quickly on that interest. He knew only what he needed to know to accomplish his mission. That was fine by him; it was an accepted part of life in Section that you would only know what you needed to know to accomplish your mission. Secrecy was their watchword.

He'd seen Janeway himself, and so contingency plan #32A had been activated. Psyops had indicated there was hostility between Janeway and all of the Equinox crew. A few analysts believed that Janeway would not care if Gilmore disappeared. Still, the contingency plan was there. The hearings had been delayed for a few hours, and Janeway had, from the report of his operative on the surface, taken the candy she'd been offered: a chance to visit Commander Chakotay. It would distract her for long enough.

He slipped into the back of the shuttle and opened his bag. In it was a Starfleet officer's uniform, which he changed into silently. Despite himself, he glanced over at the sleeping young woman as if she might see him. It was foolish. They'd used enough of the standard incapacitating agent on her to ensure she'd sleep like a baby throughout her trip. A fleet of Klingon warships could attack the shuttle and she'd still sleep through that. There was no way the sound of his clothing rustling would wake her up.

He adjusted the pips on his collar and made sure the uniform was neat. The shuttle zipped into Spacedock and headed leisurely for the ship he sought. One of his men looked him over.

"You look good, sir."

"Thank you," Benning said, his tone even and clipped.

Inside Spacedock, thrusters only was the watchword. Many captains ignored it. Benning didn't. He didn't want anyone to notice the shuttle for any reason whatsoever. So far, things had gone well. They'd transferred from the airvan to the shuttle at a nearby cargo terminal. The holocameras on that wall of the Justice Annex had been shut down the instant Marla Gilmore had left the building, and they hadn't been turned on until he had given the signal that Gilmore was safely in custody. It would be passed off as a malfunction. No fuss, no muss.

The shuttle docked in the small, cramped shuttlebay of the USS Grambyo, a Nova-class science vessel. Like the Equinox, he supposed. Benning exited the shuttle and glanced around. No one was supposed to be on board, but the crew manifest indicated the captain was still aboard. That made his lips twist in annoyance. The man was not supposed to still be here.

Even so, it could be handled. He called over one of his men and explained the situation. One remained in the shuttle with Gilmore, to keep anyone from seeing her. The rest waited in the shuttlebay for his orders.

He found the captain on the bridge, looking out slowly over Spacedock. Calmly, Benning smiled and stuck out his hand.

"Captain Wright?"

"Yes," the captain answered thoughtfully.

"I'm Commander Savage. I'm in charge of the Grambyo refit. Pleased to meet you," Benning said. "What are you still doing aboard?"

Captain Wright shrugged. "Just...reminiscing," he said. "This is a good ship. I've had some good memories."

"I'm sure," Benning answered. "However, you're going to be taking command of a Galaxy class, from what I understand."

"That's true. The Philadelphia." Wright looked wistful. "So...what are you going to do with my ship?"

Benning smiled. "Update it," he said. "The best and latest equipment we have. Update the shield emitters. I'll take good care of your ship, Captain Wright." He cleared his throat. "I'd like to have the reclamation teams have a look at the bridge, if you don't mind."

Wright exhaled. "All right," he said. "I supposed I shouldn't have stayed on board anyway. Just...one last chance to say goodbye, I guess."

He watched Captain Wright carefully while he packed the few things he had remaining onboard. Finally, the captain stepped on the transporter pad and disappeared. Then, and only then, did Benning indicate for his men to leave the shuttlebay.

"You. Put our package in sickbay, for now. Run the EMH modifications and activate the EMH. He can babysit." he directed. He did not refer to his men by name. He usually didn't. "You. Go down to engineering and prep the warp engines for immediate departure. You. Report to the bridge and lay in a course for Starbase 129. Our rendezvous point is six light-years past that. As far as Starfleet is concerned, we're heading for Starbase 129."

He proceeded to the bridge and settled down into the captain's chair. A sudden rumble throughout the ship indicated that warp engines were online. The ship moved forward, and the agent manning Communications indicated to Spacedock Control that the USS Grambyo would be heading for Starbase 129 as part of its refit. He had only a skeleton crew, but that was all right. Section 31 did, after all, have proof positive that a Nova-class starship could be operated with a skeleton crew.

The massive doors opened, and the sister ship of the Equinox proceeded out into the dark majesty of space. The impulse engines ignited, and the Grambyo moved further away from Earth. Benning turned around and glanced back at Spacedock. He could see the mighty prow of the Voyager, given pride of place in the spacedock.

"Goodbye, Voyager," he said. "I'm borrowing a little something of yours. Hope you don't mind."

"Sir?" The agent at the helm turned.

"Nothing," Benning said. "Is the course laid in?"

"Yes, sir. ETA is two days at warp five."

"Status of the package?"

"Asleep in sickbay. EMH has been modified and functions within new parameters. Level 3 containment field is in place in sickbay. EMH will notify us if the package gets active."

"Shall I notify Mr. Kilbourne?"

Benning shook his head. "Not through Starfleet channels," he said. "We maintain strict radio silence from this point forward." He sat back in the captain's chair and grinned one last time. Things were going well so far.

"Warp five," he ordered. "Engage."

The Earth began to streak away to nothing behind him.