AN: Sometimes, in real life as well as fiction, you find yourself compelled to explain a decision to someone important. My thanks for reading, and comments are always welcome.

ooo

June, 2385 Federation Services Cemetery, Northern Indiana

The cemetery was quiet, Kathryn noted as she made her way to the columbarium. Not that she had any basis for comparison. She'd only been here for the funeral, too mired in guilt and grief to care about the surroundings.

Now, here she was, more than half a lifetime later, staring at the niche. The bronze plate held an older Fleet insignia above the name: Vice Admiral Edward M. Janeway, and the dates of his birth and death. She blinked back tears as she made the calculations: He wasn't that much older than her current age. If the fates were kind, she'd get the longer lifespan.

She glanced at the rack of flowers attached to the front of the building. Some might be from Mom or Aunt Martha. They visited often, more so during the time Voyager was gone.

"Your dad was the only one I could tell … well, things I couldn't tell anyone else. Not that he could answer, but it certainly made me feel better," Mom had said, then smiled. "I wasn't the only one. I ran into Owen out here, George Patterson, too."

She took a breath. "Hello, Daddy. I'm sorry. I've been a coward about coming here, though I have a pretty good excuse for seven years."

At least she didn't have to apologize to Justin, too. When she returned from compassionate leave, Owen and a few of Justin's friends joined her to scatter his ashes on a mountain range on Tarses 4, near the Ranger training facility.

"I'm sure Mom and Martha have filled you in on my life." She chuckled. "You know, Martha swears she felt your presence at my promotion ceremony and my wedding. I didn't feel any ghostly presence, so I assume you approved on both counts."

She stopped and reconsidered. "Sorry again, I'm being flip. I suppose if we'd had more time together, it would be easier to talk to you as an adult. Then again, does anyone know how to relate to parents as an adult?"

She tried again. "Since I skipped straight to Vice Admiral, they let me use your rank bar for the promotion ceremony. My reward for surviving seven years in the Delta Quadrant.

"I thought about you a lot out there. Our commands were so different … I had to create a community, a family. We wouldn't have survived otherwise. But did you ever feel alone, Dad? Feel like you were going to be crushed by your responsibilities, your choices? By that wall we learned to put up in Command School?

"Sometimes, when I desperately needed guidance, I'd talk to you, ask how you would handle a situation. Most times, it just helped to talk." She chuckled. "I should tell Mom that she's right about that.

"I was nearly killed in a shuttle crash." She snorted. "I know, irony. Tangled with an alien looking to finish the job. He took your form in an attempt to lure me into his matrix. And I admit, it was good. It looked and sounded like you; had the details right. But the longer I talked to that bastard, the more I began to realize that it was a fraud. It knew about you, but it didn't know you."

She shook her head. "It was a hell of a journey, Dad. All the first contacts, the scientific and technical information we brought back. I learned to trust myself, to bend when necessary. I learned to trust people I would have overlooked before.

"I'm reminded that I helped people turn their lives around, though they're the ones who put in the work. But I found that I'm capable of dark things. I'm not proud of everything I did out there. I was rightfully called on some of them. In a way, I'm glad I didn't have to face you with that.

"We've been back now as long as we've been gone. And I have a good life. Had a few detours, but I have a husband and children who mean more than I could ever imagine. Most days, I remind myself that it all brought me to this point, and I am grateful.

"But you know, there are times I'd give back the medals, the promotion, and all those pretty speeches if I could save the people I lost out there. That's something we didn't have time to talk about either: How to cope with those losses …" She shook her head. "Maybe Starfleet training tends to fall a bit short. Or maybe it's just me taking the rocky path.

"Anyway," she stopped to take a breath, "this all leads into what I came to tell you: I've decided to retire. Turns out that 27 years is enough. And if you consider the time I spent as a nonstop captain, it's probably closer to 35."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "The last war changed so much. It's not the Federation, not the Starfleet we knew. Things are in turmoil: Mars is burning, with tens of thousands dead; our worlds are divided over resettling the Romulans. She smiled wryly. "I do wonder which side you'd be on in that particular dispute."

She sighed. "I hope you're not disappointed in me, but I can't follow that path any more." She paused, not sure what to say next, then chuckled.

"Now, why do I think you'd ask what I intend to do? Well, Dad, I don't know. I'm considering options, but I have no plans. Then again, I didn't plan to spend seven years in the Delta Quadrant, among other ..."

She cocked her head, suddenly aware of the noise behind her. "We have company," she said affectionately as she braced for impact. A moment later, a small body bumped into her, and she reached down to steady the little boy.

"Now, Kian, where did you come from, eh?" She looked back to see Tom walking toward them, or more accurately, being pulled along by their younger son, Collin.

Kathryn raised an eyebrow at him. She had asked for privacy. He shrugged. "I never got to pay my respects to your dad," he said quietly. "He always was nice to me. One of the few people who would listen."

"He had a knack for that," she agreed. "But I think this is about you and Mom worrying too much."
He just leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Kian frowned and pointed at the building. "Where's Grandpa?"

"Right here," she said, pointing to the plaque. "You remember, we've talked about this." She'd given both boys an age-appropriate explanation. "But I like to think that he's here in my heart," she said, patting her chest. "Same for everyone who knew him or loved him."

She tousled his light red hair. "And some of him lives on in you and your brother. You do look a little like him."

"That why I have 'Edward' in my name?"

"I think your middle name was decided long before you were born," Tom quipped. Kathryn just smiled and handed the boy the bouquet she was holding. "These are for Grandpa; I think you're big enough to put them in that rack over there. Show Collin how it's done."

Kian nodded eagerly and took the flowers. "Diversion?" Tom teased as the boys ran to the building. She chuckled. "Definitely. Unless you want to chase them across the cemetery."

The boys returned, and Tom looked at her expectantly. She nodded. "Head for the car. I'll be along in a minute."

She turned back to the columbarium and sighed. "I may be absolutely delusional; I know you didn't believe in an afterlife. But the Delta Quadrant taught me about faith and that there are some things beyond science. So if you do hear me, know that I'm at peace with this decision."

She touched two fingers to her lips, then to the plaque. "I miss you, Daddy," she said. "It was nice to talk to you again."

As she walked back to the car, she realized that the cemetery was anything but quiet. Off in the distance, she could hear a mower and the "swish" of hovercars on the street. A few meters ahead, her sons were laughing as they ran to the car.

"Life does go on, doesn't it?" she whispered to no one in particular.

And it was time to start the next chapter.