A/n: Inspiration for old stories seems to be flooding me this week, just as work is building up, lol. I'm particularly glad I'm back on track with this one. I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.

"You've made your decision." Chakotay kept his gaze on his plate, watching the bright yellow of the saffron infused pilau rice swim in the watery biryani sauce. Despite the meal's anaemic complexion, it packed quite a kick, though not in a good way. He had to wonder if Kathryn had accidently switched the fragrant Indian spices the recipe requested for some of the more choice options on Neelix's spice rack. Still, somehow he found the mouthful being churned around by his tongue easier to swallow than what his Captain had just said. Their last night in the Delta Quadrant? Why couldn't he share her certainty? That unblinking determination, that reckless courage in her, it had attracted him at first as well as repelled the side of him made almost skittish by unhealed Maquis wounds and constant sorrows; that any doubts seemed to bounce off her emotional shield had made him want to be under it when he was at his most vulnerable. Of course, years of working with her, too close for comfort, had shown him that that shield of commitment to Starfleet that held her together didn't let anyone else in, it steamrolled their more exposed fears as she headed towards her goal. And now it seemed like they were almost there, that he could leave this tenuous position of reining back a woman whose stability and reason teetered whenever he pushed her. Could he face presenting her with the risks again? Rock the boat, or the ship in this case, one last time? She hadn't listened to him before, when the hope had been less tangible, the chances slimmer, but then she hadn't lost a big hand yet.

Kathryn seemed to notice his muted tone and her face hardened into formality, though it reflected no surprise. "We launch tomorrow at 0800." She replied in a clipped tone, her gaze unnervingly intent on him, "You, Harry and Seven will take the Delta Flyer. Voyager will be right behind you."

Chakotay felt irritation prickle him as he did feel surprise; she always made him feel small, weaker than her. "Seven?" he echoed, "I thought we'd need her on the Bridge, monitoring Voyager's progress…"

"Tuvok will be doing that." Janeway answered calmly before her face wavered ever so slightly, "I think she'd serve us better supporting Harry."

"You don't think Harry will be able to handle the pressure?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't be following his plan." She reminded him sharply, "No, I trust Harry, and his plan will work." She passed him the PADD over their cooling food, "But he's invested, that kind of belief is all that's kept us going these past four years, and it'll get us through this slipstream journey, but it could also blinker him, make him reckless. The Delta Flyer needs a cool head aboard tomorrow." Her eyebrows arched at him as she saw a smirk play across Chakotay's full, but tightened lips, his eyes lightening with grim humour. "What?"

"Nothing, just agreeing that she's a cool head." Chakotay replied, still thinking of when he'd thrown almost the same words back at B'Elanna about Seven when the former had been 'too emotionally involved' in a mission. Well, if they didn't survive tomorrow, at least their silver blood duplicates would still be thriving on that demon planet. He shook his head, disturbed that he could find amusement in that thought. "The crew will be pleased we're going ahead." He finally commented.

"You can give them the news yourself." Janeway responded in the same passive aggressive tone she'd perfected so much more than he had. Just as she'd done that however, her need for approval that contradicted so many of her solitary decisions reared its head. Her Captain's persona slipped for a moment as she leaned towards him, elbows unconcernedly on the table, eyes still intent but questioning now as she regarded him over the hands just under her chin. "What about you Chakotay? What do you think about my decision?"

Chakotay stared at her for a minute, wishing he still had the will to ask her frankly why she always pushed him to speak when they both knew she wouldn't listen to him. Because she knows you'll always try to talk her round, and she likes that. A disgruntled, bitter voice he was constantly trying to ignore whispered through his mind. As ever though, he gave in and began to admit his unease to her, but not without a heavy sigh. "I've analysed Harry's flight plan. You're right, the theory is sound, but there are just too many variables. If something goes wrong with the slipstream…"

"This could be our only chance to use the quantum drive." Kathryn reminded him, the steel that always coated her words when she'd set her mind on something, thought she had no choice, making Chakotay gaze as her in sad regret. Why had he fallen for her usual trap of wanting to confide in her, and be heeded, again?

"True." He said shortly as he looked between the PADD and the meal she'd presented him with. Well, if he could eat this food just as he'd eaten all of her other creations over the past four years, just as he'd followed her plan to destroy the Caretaker's array, ally with the Borg, surely he could agree to a plan he actually hoped would work, perhaps their last plan together? He kidded himself, as he also always did, to make one last attempt. "But if you showed this data to any Starfleet engineer, they'd think we were out of our minds. We can find another way home, we've waited this long…" Hadn't he made this exact same point every time they'd faced an obstacle? Maybe he was weak.

Kathryn didn't disappoint, and gave him the answer he expected just as she'd known that he'd say that. "Long enough. We've waited long enough." She blinked then, "I know it's a risk…" She told him thickly, "…probably our biggest one yet." Her voice strengthened again, even as her eyes wavered tellingly away from his for the first time since they'd sat down. "But I'm willing to take it. Are you with me?"

Chakotay swallowed, both relieved and fearful that she'd made that unprecedented concession, to him of all people. Was she finally seeing things clearly? "Always." He heard his own voice answering, though his mind felt disconnected from the word.

"Well, at least you know now that you're a happy drunk." The Doctor said soothingly as he set the now empty hypospray of inaprovaline aside.

Seven grimaced even as her vision refocused, she now had two solid hands again. "A happy drunk?" she repeated, wincing in pain as her throbbing head rejected the proximity and volume of her own voice.

"Oh yes." The Doctor assured her, his rampant amusement evident now even as he gave her his stock indulgent smile when she'd misunderstood something or acted wrongly. She wasn't in the mood to prefer patronisation to reprimand and frowned at him pointedly, though her facial muscles were oddly uncooperative. The Doctor just chuckled, "I know you're not feeling particularly upbeat now, there's no such thing as a happy hangover." He paused thoughtfully, "I suppose it's better that you learn that now, most people take the entirety of their adolescence at least."

"I do not intend to indulge in champagne again, even for the sake of my social skills." Seven informed him tersely as she started to edge herself off the biobed, debating whether it was wise to try to stand unaided.

"That's what everyone says…for the most part." The Doctor told her with a slight smirk, "You shouldn't limit yourself as long as you understand moderation, after all the champagne is really going to be flowing when we get back to Earth. For days and weeks afterwards, most likely."

Seven pursed her lips and looked down, resettling herself on the stability of the biobed. "I do not yet know if I will be fully…integrated into the celebrations."

The Doctor spun around to face her, all of the complacency in his expression replaced with serious conviction. "Of course you will be Seven, our crew wouldn't have it any other way." He gripped her shoulders, forcing her to hold his gaze, "You're as much a member of this crew as everyone else, and you played a big part in getting this quantum slipstream…"

"Yes." Seven answered quietly, "I assisted in the assimilation of the technology." She sighed softly as the Doctor shot her a sharp glance, appearing almost offended. "However…" She amended, "I know the crew understand my situation."

The Doctor patted her arm gently, "Starfleet and the Federation Council will too Seven." He smiled at her ruefully, "Remember that I was our temporary ambassador to Starfleet a few months back…" He began proudly, "And I left a perfect report of you with my fellow EMH." He sighed as he watched her face, "Try not to worry, okay?"

Seven lifted her head, her straightening shoulders shrugging off his hands. "I will adapt."

"Shield generations?" Chakotay called out his check list to the back of the Delta Flyer.

"On-line." Seven replied coolly from her seat at one of the Flyer's two main consoles. Chakotay found something comforting that morning about her unruffled tone, as if they were merely cleaning out the filter ducts rather than proceeding with a test flight that wasn't really a test but their one shot. He hoped she was having the same effect on Harry.

"Plasma flow?"

"Stable." Harry answered in a steady tone.

"Com-link?"

"Secure." Seven assured him firmly.

A smile started to pull at Chakotay's lips as he added one final box to check. "Lunch?"

He heard Harry's anxiety releasing chuckle, just as intended. "Salami sandwiches."

"Lunch Commander?" Seven queried. He knew her metal brow was raised even without turning round to face her, but he did anyway.

"What's the matter Seven?" he asked innocently, "You don't like salami?"

Unexpectedly, she rose to the challenge of his tone. "I have no objection to sustenance Commander." She began as she looked between his face and Harry's with those piercing eyes of hers, "But I warn you, if you eat here, you may ruin your appetite for the customary meal of celebration in the Alpha Quadrant."

Harry's face lit up, beaming at her. "That's the spirit Seven!"

Chakotay also smiled at the Borg drone, with more understanding than exuberance, as he watched her swallow as she nodded in response to Harry's words. To seem even mildly enthused at the prospect of a 'homecoming' to a place that had no home in her memory had cost her a great deal. It showed how far she'd come that she'd even attempt it for Harry's sake. He turned back to the conn and its comm. link to Voyager, "Chakotay to Voyager, we're ready."

The Captain's order to the shipmates echoed through the comm. line, "All hands, this is the Captain. Take your stations, secure all systems and stand by for the jump to slipstream."

"Voyager has established a telemetry link with us Commander." Seven informed Chakotay as their Captain stopped speaking, "They are matching our course and speed."

"Voyager to Chakotay." Janeway spoke again, "Prepare to enter the slipstream."

"Acknowledged." Chakotay replied, tensing in his chair even as he tried to remain calm and relaxed.

There was only a slight pause before Janeway acted. "Engage."

Seven behind him and Tom on Voyager spoke together, "Slipstream velocity in four…three…two…"

The sudden surge of energy, carrying the shuttle along with Voyager's powerful bulk in its wake, made the countdown redundant. Time seemed to stretch, and Chakotay believed for a moment that they'd passed the seventeen second danger zone where the phase variance would intervene, but then Seven spoke again, "There's phase variance in the slipstream. 0.1…0.2…" She studied the readings, "Voyager requires your calculations Ensign…"

Janeway echoed that, "Voyager to Delta Flyer, we need those corrections or we'll have to shut down the drive!"

"We're on it, Captain." Harry assured her.

"The threshold is fluctuating." Chakotay told him sharply.

"Okay, I can do this." Harry muttered, "I'm compensating for the spatial gradients…"

"Deflector geometry is stable." Seven supplied for him.

"Got it!" Harry exclaimed.

"The phase variance is decreasing." Seven agreed. Chakotay hoped he was imagining it, but he thought he could hear relief in her stilted tones.

A violent bump in flight showed that both Harry's exhilaration and Seven's relief were premature. "The phase variance is increasing." Seven reported tersely, "0.3…0.4…"

"Harry, what's happening?" The Captain demanded, "The phase variance is still increasing."

Harry was becoming flustered, "I'm not sure Captain, it should be working."

"I need an answer Harry, we're running out of time." Janeway advised him tightly.

"Let me try recalibrating the sensors. I might compensate for the variance…"

"It's too late for that Ensign, the variance in the slipstream obviously cannot be predicted." Seven concluded, "I will transmit corrections that will disperse the slipstream…"

"No, not yet!" Harry cut her off, "I'll…"

"What Harry?" Chakotay shouted as the ride became even rockier, "You'll do what?" His blood went cold as Harry remained silent behind him. He could hear neither he nor Seven moving.

"We've lost the com-link Commander." Seven eventually managed to say in a disturbingly robotic tone, "The telemetry link is also down."

"Did you manage to send the corrections to disperse the slipstream?" Chakotay demanded.

Seven's voice now swung to the other extreme, shaking with emotion. "No."

"Why aren't they shutting down the drive?" Harry cried out.

"They can't." Seven answered grimly, "The quantum matrix is overloading, they've lost helm control. The slipstream is collapsing." Her voice cracked, "Their hull is buckling…"

"They've been thrown into normal space!" Chakotay half-yelled, cutting off her horrible report with his worse one.

Harry began to scramble towards the helm, "Alter our slipstream course! We've got to go back!"

"We can't." Seven told him in a deadened tone as she restrained him.

Harry fought her off and continued forward, but Chakotay had come to the same terrible conclusion. "She's right Harry!" he snapped, "Even if they survive re-entry at this velocity, we wouldn't." He saw pain blaze across Seven's already ashen face at that and fully realised what they both knew, there was no 'even if' about it, Voyager was doomed.

Harry missed this silent exchange, or ignored it, as hysterical angry tears clogged his throat. "What are you saying?" he hissed, reaching across to take control of the helm, "We've got to find them!"

Chakotay seized his wrist and shoved him back. "Ensign, there's no choice."

Harry stared into the older man's eyes, and finally saw the resignation, and the grief, glowing out of the usually unreadable gaze. It was enough to let reality slam into him. He loosened his hand from Chakotay's grip, but made no further attempt to argue, his face going eerily blank as he slumped to his knees.

Chakotay turned to face Seven, who'd returned to her console, sitting there numbly. "Can you pinpoint where Voyager fell out of the slipstream?"

Seven stared at him, her normally clear eyes glassy as her shoulders slumped in defeat. "It's irrel…" She started hoarsely, then gulped hard, forcing herself to answer the question. "I cannot be specific. Somewhere in the Tankara sector."

"The Tankara sector?" Chakotay repeated, starting to shake as Seven nodded. That was a massive sector, but it was also right on the Alpha Quadrant border. They'd been so close… Both of them had the grace not to look at Harry for a reaction as he mercifully remained in his catatonic stupor.

The shuttle was still being washed helplessly away through the slipstream, like a piece of wreckage caught in an undersea current, but as quickly as it had destroyed the lives they'd known, it flickered out of existence, leaving the Delta Flyer's viewscreen dominated by that planetary marble that had once been home. Satellites and spaceships, both bigger and smaller than Voyager, hovered in orbit like bees like a honeypot.

Harry stared at the miraculous scene for an instant, then snapped. He lunged at the windows, tearing at the burning forcefields as if he was trying to tear a hole in space itself. "No! No!" he howled like a rabid, wounded animal, "We can't be here now! We have to find them!" A singed scent from his injured hands filled the Flyer, blood from his torn nails streaking its bulkheads, but Chakotay could only watch him numbly. After what seemed like hours, but was probably only seconds, Seven shakily stood, something between a groan and a sob leaving her lips as she snatched up a hypospray from God knows were and moved soundlessly behind Harry's thrashing form. She had to hold him in a headlock to administer the sedative, but her touch was almost tender as she guided his now unconscious body to the floor and then knelt herself, cradling his lolling head in her lap.

Chakotay kept his eyes on the ships starting to head towards them even as he stiffly shuffled off his chair and began to crawl across the floor to sit beside her; they were both deaf to the hundreds of hails that were overwhelming the comm. system.

A/n: Please review.