Epilogue
The crew of Voyager, the Pathfinder Project, and their families were gathered on the largest open ground at Starfleet Academy to celebrate the return of the ship and her crew just three days before. On the podium, Owen Paris was giving a speech about something, although Kathryn wasn't paying all that much attention. On the collar of her new gray-on-black uniform she wore the rank of an Admiral, but she didn't pay much attention to that either. To her left sat Chakotay, surreptitiously resting his hand on her leg under the table. On her right was Tuvok. Surrounding them was her senior staff. Tom, B'Elanna, and Miral. Lieutenant Kim. The Doctor and Seven. Even Reg Barclay. She wished Neelix and Kes could have been there, just for a little while, to celebrate their victory with them, but she was sure they were happy where they were.
Finally, Owen reached the closing of his speech, and Kathryn perked up to listen. "Here today, we have what may be the finest crew ever to wear the uniform. You had one mission all these years – to find your way home. No matter what the odds, Voyager always found a way to beat them and, today, you have beaten the greatest of odds and accomplished what no other crew could have accomplished. I give you a toast: 'To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.' Never to yield. I give you Voyager."
Shortly afterwards, Kathryn and Chakotay had snuck away from the reception and found themselves a quiet place on the campus grounds where they could sit and contemplate what had become of their lives. Chakotay gazed at her. "Tennyson, his Ulysses," he said quietly. "That's what Admiral Paris quoted."
Kathryn looked over with a pensive look on her face. "I thought you didn't read much pre-Federation European literature," she said. He shushed her.
"I read Tennyson after I first discovered Voyager's motto. I remember Ulysses well – the great warrior who had gone all the way to Troy to fight in the Trojan War. Despite great odds and evils that opposed him, despite being toyed with by gods and by men, he finally returned to the land of his birth. But he found no peace there – he had seen too much, done too much, to ever find peace in Ithaca. So the aged man left again, looking for adventure, and never returned." He glanced sideways at her. "Like Jim Kirk."
Kathryn turned to face him. "Odysseus got home alone, without any of his crew," she murmured. "I'm glad I'm not him. And I'm not Kirk either, no matter what Q says." She paused, thinking. "Owen was wrong, you know. Tennyson isn't the right man to describe Voyager and her crew." She pressed her forehead against his. "This isn't Tennyson's Ulysses," she whispered. "I yield." And she kissed him.