Voyager was ready to depart.
Shuttles had been flitting around the mighty ship like bees serving their queen, but one by one they left to go on to other tasks. The ship had been resupplied, its engines retuned, even its atmosphere emptied and refilled. For the first time since its return from the Delta Quadrant two months earlier, Voyager would be leaving Earth's spacedock.
The crew was still boarding. Some of them had not returned to the ship the night before. Captain Janeway had, and so she had a small term of quiet before the ship's entire complement returned.
She arose from her bed and stretched languidly, studying her window. Of course, in spacedock all she had to see was a curved metal wall and shuttles flickering back and forth. She checked her chronometer. It was 0630. Good, she'd have time for breakfast.
She dressed and arranged her hair carefully. The results pleased her: every bit a starship captain. She straightened her uniform shirt and prepared to leave her quarters.
Her door chime sounded. She turned her head.
"Come," she said shortly.
The door wsshed open to reveal Chakotay, standing tall in his uniform. She smiled.
"Morning," he said calmly.
"Good morning," she replied crisply. "Good to be back?"
"Very," he answered. "It's a lot more comfortable here. Up for breakfast, Kathryn?"
"Of course."
They proceeded to the officer's mess. At this early hour, it was empty. For a moment, she found herself missing Neelix. Had they ever found a way to communicate with him? So far as she knew, he was back in the Delta Quadrant, on the Talaxian asteroid.
She got eggs and coffee, just the way she liked it. The replicator here had been programmed to her preferences. She stared into its black depths for a moment and drank deeply.
"So," Chakotay said. "Just what sort of detail is this? From the orders I saw it looks like we just smile and wave at adoring crowds." He dove into his own breakfast like a starving man.
Janeway pulled a tight smile. "That's basically it. We're going to Vulcan first, to spend two weeks holding seminars for the Vulcan Science Academy. Then we're off to Alpha Centauri." She snorted. "If I'd wanted to smile and wave at crowds, I'd have signed up for the Miss Federation pageant."
Chakotay chuckled. "People need heroes, Kathryn," he said. "I guess we're it. Heard anything on Gilmore?"
Janeway shook her head. "That's part of what's been bothering me," she said slowly. A long pull at her coffee gave her time to focus her thoughts. "No one seems to really care. I know what she did, and I can understand why Starfleet might not be happy with her. But still...I didn't bring this crew seventy thousand light-years to come back to a Federation where someone can disappear so easily and no one seems to care enough to do anything. Sometimes this just doesn't seem like home anymore."
He nodded. He didn't need to speak; she knew he understood. Principle was Chakotay's watchword; he stuck to his own principles with quiet fervor. He'd joined, left, and rejoined Starfleet over them.
"Something will happen," he said calmly. "Is there anything you need me to do before we leave?"
Janeway pondered. "Double-check our inventory. Make sure all our Delta Quadrant toys are onboard." She paused. "Put Seven on it. She'll be...efficient."
They both chuckled.
After breakfast, they proceeded to the bridge. It was pleasant enough to watch the ship slowly come to life as the crew returned. Some came via shuttle; some transported. Paris and Kim reported to their stations with pleasant greetings. For a moment she wondered how Paris and Torres were supposed to do their jobs with an infant. Then again, she supposed, it wasn't like this was a particularly hard duty.
At 0745, she gestured to Kim. "Open a shipwide channel," she directed.
Bleep-palurp. "Shipwide channel open, Captain," Kim said a moment later.
She rose from her chair and put her hands behind her back in the position she'd learned at the Academy. For a moment she strove for words.
"Attention, crew of USS Voyager," she said. "This is the captain. As you know, we've been ordered to conduct a...tour of the planets of the Federation. We're going to share what we learned and discuss life in the Delta Quadrant."
She cleared her throat. "This trip will be substantially shorter than our previous trip. I realize many of you had hoped to spend more time with your families, and I appreciate your sacrifice. Communication privileges will be liberal on this trip; you'll have ample opportunity to speak with your loved ones. We'd like to make up for the last time." She could feel the crew smile at that one.
"This is an important mission," she said, and fought to keep from biting her lip. It was hard to tell the crew that when she had her sneaking doubts herself. "We've returned to a Federation that has been battered by war. A war that we weren't part of. We need to help remind people of what Starfleet was meant to do. I am confident that this crew can do that. Janeway out."
She settled back in her chair and gestured at Paris. "Mr. Paris, take us out."
The sight of the spacedock doors opening to reveal the majestic blackness of space was something she still appreciated. Voyager ventured forth into space, on its own, no longer needing the umbilicals and assistance of spacedock. They were in control of their own destinies.
"Set a course for Vulcan," Janeway said, and wished she was going somewhere new. "Warp 6."
Paris's hands flew over his console. "Course laid in, Captain."
Janeway sighed. "Engage," she said shortly. Voyager's warp engines fired, and the mighty ship engaged.
...
The world came trickling back to her. At first, it was very slow. Her mind was slow and logy. First, came sensations. Her stomach stabbed at her. It seemed to take quite a long time to determine if her stomach was exhibiting signs of pain or hunger. It was not a pleasant sensation and she wished it would go away.
Then there were other sensations. The world around her shook a few times. Dimly, she could feel her body being jostled. There was something soft under her. There was something hard and unpleasant being pressed against her side. For some reason, her body didn't want to obey her mind's commands to roll away from it. Someone was doing something near her, but didn't talk. She could hear the faint sounds of metal clicking and computers beeping.
Finally, her eyes slid open, sticky and slow. One eyelid was gummed shut and she raised a numb hand to rub at it. Marla Gilmore opened her eyes to a world of darkness. Everything around her was dark. There were red and white flashing things in the dark, like miniature lighthouses. Red surrounded the white. Dully, she realized that the white things were words, but the screens were too far away for her to make them out.
She was on a biobed; she could feel the rounded pillow under her neck. But for some reason, the biobed wasn't making the usual beeps and hums that it usually did. She rolled over then and felt something dig into her side. Her face screwed up and she let out a groan.
In the darkness, a balding man in a teal-shouldered uniform turned around and observed her calmly. He nodded once and touched her neck with a hypospray. For some reason, that brought fear and she flinched. The EMH – she recognized it now – made a face, as if she was being unreasonable.
"Ensign Gilmore," he said, and smiled coolly. "You're finally awake. Please remain still, for now." His voice was the same faintly prissy voice of all Mark 1 EMH's.
Her thoughts still came slowly. Ensign? She'd been politely shown the door from Starfleet. Yet reaching up with her fingers indicated the same Starfleet uniform she'd worn for years now. Something hard and round under her fingers had to be the one single pip she'd had before she was demoted to crewman aboard Voyager. She slid her finger into her collar and was rewarded by a sudden flash of pain as the back of the pin stabbed her finger. A faint whimper escaped her, but no more.
Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt scaly. She worked her jaw for a moment and stared groggily at the EMH.
"Wha...wha' hoppen?" she managed through lips and tongue that seemed far too thick.
"You've been asleep for a while," the EMH told her. "The only way I had to treat your injuries was via an induced coma."
"Coma?" She groped for a moment as to what a coma was, and then she had it. "Am I...all right?"
"You should be. We'll explain everything. Let me notify the captain that you're awake." He tapped his combadge. Blearily she watched him, wondering why an EMH would even need to tap a combadge. It was all holographic anyway. Maybe he was just programmed to mimic them. "EMH to Ransom."
That jolted her. She sat up and looked around her. The captain's voice spoke from the EMH's combadge, tinny and weak. "Ransom here."
"I've brought Ensign Gilmore out of her coma. She's awake, but seems a bit confused."
"On my way."
The sickbay was small, dark, and cramped. Screens flickered and rolled. Dirt and debris crunched under the EMH's feet as he walked over to her.
"Please relax, Ensign. You're not going to feel right for a day or so. Rudy wants to speak to you."
Marla stared at her grubby, battered surroundings in sheer befuddlement. "This isn't right," she rasped.
"I'm sorry?" The EMH smiled at her tolerantly.
"This can't be...I...this isn't...," she trailed off. A sick sense of dread and doom and foreboding sank into her gut like poisonous metal. Was she dead? Was this her own personal hell?
A shadowy figure appeared in the doorway to sickbay and paused a moment before entering. Her eyes were adjusting to the dark environment, and they played over the man in the sickbay.
"Marla," the figure said, and seemed happy. Rudy Ransom leaned forward and held her by the upper arms, gently. "Thank heaven. We thought we'd lost you. You've been comatose for a few months. When that goddamn torpedo made it through the shields...oh, you don't know how great it is to see you awake. Noah's been sitting with you for weeks...we were so worried."
He folded her against him in a warm embrace. Marla simply let him, somewhere between the loginess of her sleep and the bizarre unreality of her situation. This couldn't be.She had been on Voyager and then back to Earth.
Hadn't she?
Her disbelieving eyes skittered over the craggy features of Captain Rudy Ransom. Her mouth hung open in open shock. This could not be. It just...it could not be. The words marched across the surface of her brain. Could. Not. Be. Could. Not. Be. But no matter how much her mind repeated those last three words, her senses kept telling her the same old thing: that it was.
"Rudy?" she asked, and her voice shook.
"Yes. I'm here," he said, mistaking her bafflement for a desire for reassurance.
"This...this c-c-can't be," Marla stammered. "If you're Rudy...then this...,"
He smiled and held her against him again like a proud father welcoming back his wayward daughter. She could feel the rough material of his uniform against her cheek. His voice was choked with emotion. "This is Equinox, Marla. You're home."