AN: Here we are, another chapter.

I posted one earlier, so please make sure that you read that one before reading this one!

I hope that you enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

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"This leaves a sitting area for each of us," Chakotay said, gesturing to the carefully drawn plans he'd made for the cabin. He'd been slaving over it for more than a couple of weeks. He was sure of that, but it was going to be worth it to have the structure exactly like they wanted it to be. Each time he was sure that he'd finished the plans, someone else raised a new concern that needed to be addressed. This was going to be their home, after all, for possibly the rest of their lives. They needed it to be something that made all the occupants happy—and that was no small feat with four different opinions going into absolutely every little detail.

So far, they were essentially joining two small, identical cabins, with a large, communal, living area.

Kathryn had added small bathrooms for each couple—complete with tubs—when she'd sadly realized it was far too cold for her outdoor tub, even if they did use hot water.

Carol had changed the living area plan to separate the cooking and sitting area enough that the heat from a long-term fire wouldn't make it absolutely unbearable, but it also wouldn't separate whoever was cooking from the rest of the group by too much.

Daryl had added windows because the cabin hadn't been planned with enough at the start and, without them, he feared that Carol—and everyone else—might get claustrophobic. The air, as well, might get heavy to breathe, especially in the winter, without more ventilation than they'd originally planned. He'd also added exit doors in each of the areas that Chakotay was calling the "suites" so that they could very easily escape from the bedrooms if there were a fire and such a thing was necessary.

It was Chakotay who had made the latest in the series of changes.

"So, it's comfortable like our own little house," Daryl said.

"But we don't have to give up being close to each other," Kathryn confirmed. She'd already talked over some of the changes with Chakotay.

"It also leaves the plan open in case we want to expand or make changes. From each suite, it would be easy to add onto the cabin. We could even build any additions we want to make before opening up areas in the wall. It would mean we'd never have to worry about closing off part of the house to add to it," Chakotay said.

"It's perfect," Carol mused, leaning over Chakotay to admire his work.

"So, when we starting on it?" Daryl asked.

Chakotay shrugged.

"If nobody else has any changes," Chakotay said, "we can start tomorrow. We'll need to check the ground, first. See if it's frozen."

"That's somethin' better left to when the sun comes up," Daryl offered.

"There's really no hurry anyway," Chakotay said. "I think everyone should sleep on it tonight, at least. Make sure there are no other changes we want to make before we start setting up foundation posts and mapping out the structure."

"We've got a cabin to build," Kathryn said softly, her hands going to each of Chakotay's shoulders as she stood behind him. He felt her knead his shoulder muscles. "We should probably go to bed so we can start sleeping on these final plans."

Chakotay laughed to himself. Even though progress would be slow, and even though it would take them months to finish their new home, they were all anxious to see the project get started. He reached up a hand and affectionately squeezed Kathryn's hand. He smiled to himself when she leaned down and rested her head against his before delicately kissing his temple."

"Bed's a good idea," Daryl offered. "And we'll pray for warm enough weather to dig for them posts."

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Kathryn reached for another hunk of the charred meat from the platter where Carol had piled it up.

Daryl called the creatures "hoppers," and he'd learned that they bred at an alarming rate. With animals going underground and everywhere else for the winter, the hoppers were some of the most abundant food that they had. He'd built a covered pen for them and they raised them for food, feeding them bugs and worms that they caught for them.

Kathryn tried not to focus on the knowledge of where their food came from. They had to survive, and this was how they were going to do that. The replicator barely worked, and they would soon run out of power for it anyway—not to mention the raw material necessary to produce anything. They saved what power they had, at this point, in the case of a tool emergency.

They ate only what New Earth had to offer them. And, though the planet was a practical Eden in the warmer months, it was clear that they were only hoping the winter didn't get any harsher.

Daryl and Carol had built a smokehouse. The two of them were good hunters, so they had stored up some meat, but fresh meat was preferred when it was available. They had finally met their cat-like beasts—large animals that reminded Kathryn of saber-toothed tigers she'd once read about from an ancient past—and they'd killed a few of them that had been set on attacking their camp.

They saved everything. Any hides were being saved for clothing, since they could no longer replicate it, and Chakotay and Daryl had insisted the claws, teeth, and bones of the animals could be used as weapons and tools.

Kathryn had never been fond of the idea of killing anyone or anything without reason, but she found it comforting to know that they truly did their best to use every part of the animals that they killed.

Their garden stayed covered most of the time, and they kept their remaining seeds protected to plant in the spring. When the weather warmed, they planned to build a boat and go exploring down the river. They hoped to find even more that the planet might have to offer when they moved beyond their claimed patch of land.

But they were surviving. And, despite the fact that their survival needs kept them on their toes in some ways, they were living happy lives.

Kathryn had never imagined that she could be this happy with such a simple life—one entirely void of Starfleet—but she felt better than she had in years. The stress of this life was a very real stress of survival, but it wasn't the kind of stress that she'd faced in the past.

As she ate, she preferred not to think about the fact that the hoppers were oddly like kangaroo-legged rats, especially not when she ate more than her fill of them at breakfast. They were delicious and the warm meat made her feel satisfied and ready for the work that the day would hold for all of them.

The ground was cold, but not frozen. They could break ground today. They could start to build their home.

She chewed through another piece of the warm meat, careful not to choke on the juice as she laughed to herself over Chakotay's story—which he was using to entertain all of them—about how ridiculous they had probably looked a few days ago when he and Daryl, convinced that something might be living in a burrow they found not far from the house, had tried to run the unknown creature out. They'd tried to be prepared for anything—possibly something as deadly as their saber-toothed neighbors—and both had dramatically overreacted and nearly killed each other when the occupant of the burrow scurried out, quickly and ferociously. It was only after they'd nearly beaten the ground to death—missing the animal in the process of their need to be "fast"—that they realized it was little more than an angry lizard-like animal that, despite its bravado, really didn't seem interested in hurting them as much as it was simply disgruntled by being driven out of its burrow by two over-curious and clueless people wielding branches as clubs.

They were all laughing when Daryl suddenly held up his hand to hush them all.

"What's that noise?" He asked loudly.

"What?" Kathryn choked out around her food.

"That noise," Daryl said. "What is it? Hush! Be quiet a minute! What the hell is that?"

"Maybe it's the lizard," Carol coughed out. Instead of hushing everyone, her suggestion brought a round of laughter. Daryl got to his feet, clearly a little annoyed with their inability to stop laughing long enough for him to track down the noise.

"What does it sound like?" Chakotay asked, hushing them with hand gestures to try to help Daryl.

"It's a whistling noise," Daryl said.

"I don't hear anything, Daryl," Carol said, sincerely, after they'd been quiet a moment.

"Me either," Kathryn seconded.

"I heard it," Daryl said. "It was—it was some whistling."

"Maybe it was one of those cones on a branch," Chakotay said. "Maybe it got put in the fire. You know how those things sort of whistle before they pop."

"I ain't heard no pop," Daryl said. He wandered off, in search of his hissing noise, and the rest of them returned to breakfast, this time chatting a little more quietly. Kathryn was almost certain that Chakotay was right and something had ended up in the fire that had simply made a strange noise.

That was, she was almost certain of that until Daryl returned.

She heard the whistling and hissing noise as Daryl approached the small group of them again.

"Kathryn?" He asked.

He held out his hand, palm up. In his palm were two combadges—Kathryn didn't even know who of the four of them they belonged to. Two of the combadges had been destroyed and the other two, which now rested in Daryl's hand, had been damaged. Kathryn couldn't recall the last time she'd seen them. She'd assumed they might have been tossed out with some other destroyed supplies that they'd moved out of the house.

Now they were both whistling and hissing in Daryl's hand as they were both activated to convey a message that sometimes faded in and out.

The message, when Kathryn heard it, made her heart almost stop, entirely, in her chest.

"This is Tuvok to Captain Janeway. Tuvok to any member…stranded on New Earth…Come in. Captain Janeway. Tuvok...you copy?"

For a moment, they all remained in silence and stared at the combadges like they were haunted or possessed. Maybe, even, for a moment they all believed that they were. The badges had been silent a long time. Tuvok belonged to a past that they'd all been forced to leave behind. Voyager should be around six months—or perhaps even more— away by now.

Yet the combadges had come to life, hissing and spitting like the iguana-like friend that Daryl and Chakotay had rudely run out of his warm burrow.

With her heart thundering in her chest and her breathing inexplicably shallow, Kathryn took the combadges from Daryl. She fingered them, a moment, thinking how strange they felt in her calloused palms. She activated one.

"Captain Janeway to Tuvok," Kathryn said. "Go ahead. I copy. Tuvok? Can you read me?"

"I can hear you, Captain," Tuvok responded. "Are you able to receive my communications?"

"There's some static," Kathryn said. "Our equipment was damaged in a serious storm. I can read you, though."

"Have all the members of the party survived?" Tuvok asked.

Kathryn smiled to herself. She'd forgotten how practical he could be.

"We're all alive. We're doing—very well, actually. I don't understand, Tuvok, how you're able to communicate with us at such a long distance."

"We are six hours from a being close enough to transport," Tuvok said.

Kathryn was almost certain that she hadn't heard that correctly. Around her, furrowed brows said that everyone else was trying to digest the message, and they were finding it all much harder to digest than hoppers and the boiled field oats.

"I'm sorry?" Kathryn responded. "Commander—I heard that you were six hours from being close enough to transport. I must have lost part of your message."

"We will be close enough to beam the party aboard in six hours," Tuvok said.

"Voyager should be—at least six months from here," Kathryn said.

"As acting captain," Tuvok said, "I consulted with my ship. We discussed the fact that even a year was not too much to spare on our trip if it meant that we would return with our full crew."

"The virus," Kathryn offered.

"As acting captain," Tuvok said, and Kathryn's stomach clenched. He was being careful to remind her that she'd transferred captaincy to him. She already knew he was about to tell her that he'd gone against her orders, but he was making it clear that she shouldn't hold that against him when he'd acted in his own command position, "I made the decision—with the help of my crew—to speak with the Vidiians."

"I told you not to put the ship at risk," Kathryn said quickly.

"With all due respect, Captain," Tuvok responded. The next part of his message vanished in hissing and crackling. When he came back, Kathryn had to ask him to repeat himself. "It was done to avoid a threatened mutiny."

Kathryn doubted things were that dire. Tuvok, however Vulcan he was, would use whatever facts they had in whatever way worked best—especially for something like this. Any "mutiny" had likely involved even Tuvok.

Kathryn's stomach churned at the reality that was sinking in it. Suddenly the gut full of hoppers that she'd eaten wasn't sitting as well as it had been a few moments before.

"Am I to assume that things went smoothly with the Vidiians?" Kathryn asked.

"We were able to get the information that we needed," Tuvok said. "The ship was not damaged and no crew members were lost. When we arrive at the point where we can successfully beam equipment down, we'll send hyposprays." Kathryn only had to ask Tuvok to repeat himself twice to get the whole of the message.

"How long will it take for the cure to work?" Kathryn asked.

"Its effects are immediately," Tuvok said. "We've inoculated the rest of the crew against the virus, should it be brought onboard. In theory, you should be completely cured at your time of arrival. However, the doctor will run scans to be sure that there will be no ill effects to anyone."

"Less than six hours," Kathryn said, hoping the sinking feeling didn't come through in her voice. "We'd better start—getting ready. Contact us when you're fifteen minutes away."

"Aye, Captain," Tuvok said. "And may I say, we are pleased to find you all in good health."

Kathryn smiled to herself, not fully feeling the expression.

"We're pleased to hear from you, too," Kathryn said. "We'll be ready when you arrive. Janeway out."