A/N: The past couple of weeks have been tough. I'm sorry for the lack of updates. I'm trying to get back to this as quickly as I can. I hope some people are willing to pick this up again as I do.

Twenty Five

We're all wonderful, wonderful people
So when did we all get so fearful?
Now we're finally finding our voices
So take a chance, come help me sing this
I want to sing, I want to shout
I want to scream till the words dry out
So put it in all of the papers,
I'm not afraid
They can read all about it
Read all about it

Emeli Sandé – Read All About It

The garden – or what had once been the garden - was full of people. As Kathryn killed her engine and got out of her car, she saw that the assembly had formed into a sort of chain gang that led from the destroyed main gate back across the site. She paused as she realised that the place looked different to the way she'd seen it last. Gone were the damaged remnants of plants and the grooves caused by the spinning wheels of motorcycles. The earth had been raked over and cleared. It almost looked ready for re-planting.

As Kathryn moved closer, she saw that there was a pick-up pulled up by the entrance. This one was blue, so it wasn't Kes's – although through the gathered throng Kathryn could see the young woman herself standing by the vehicle's open tailgate. Beside her was a burly man in a battered Stetson and grey flannel shirt. They were both in the act of unloading items from the back of the truck, turning to give whatever it was to the first person in the line of workers. The human conveyor belt was transporting whatever had been on the back of the truck through the gate and into the garden itself.

When Kathryn got closer still, she realised they were pots. Pots with plants in them – a lot of plants.

"Kathryn!"

It was Tom. He ducked out of his place at the head of the line when he spotted her.

"Tom?" Kathryn asked as they neared one another, "What's going on?"

He shrugged. "People just started coming this morning. And then-" he turned and indicated Kes, who smiled and tapped the man beside her on the arm. The line took a break as Kes and her compantion came over to join Tom and Kathryn. "-then Kes turned up,"

"Kathryn, this is my father, Ben," said Kes. "Dad, this is Kathryn, the woman I told you about."

Kes's father stretched out a hand to shake Kathryn's. "Mighty pleased to meet you," he said. "I hope you won't consider this a liberty, but Kes told us what you were doing here, and then what happened. It seemed like since I was in a position to do something to help the situation, then I should. So I filled my truck and I got on the road, and now here I am."

"Ben brought vegetable plants and fruit trees to replace the ones that we lost, and a lot more besides," Tom added. "None of us knew exactly where you would want them to go, so we thought we'd unload them and wait until you got here."

Kathryn looked at the gathered crowd, who were all standing in silence, as if waiting for her to speak. She tried to formulate the right words, and had to clear her throat before she could find her voice.

"Thank you," she said to Kes's father, first. "This is – an extraordinarily generous thing that you have done. Thank you. Not just for myself, but-" she gestured to the gathered people, "for the community as a whole. But," she added, raising her voice to the rest of the group. "This was never about what I thought should be here. This is your place, your garden – it's for you all to decide how it should be planted."

There was a brief silence as the people looked at each other. Then Neelix stepped forward.

"You're the reason that the garden exists in the first place, Ms Janeway," he pointed out. "I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we will all take part in looking after it from now on. But we want your expertise – we want you – to help us get started."

A murmur of assent rippled through the crowd. Kathryn swallowed the lump in her throat. "What about the gang?" she asked, her voice husking in the reigning quiet. "There's a danger from the Crimsons. You all know there is, and I-"

A figure stepped forward. It was Franco. He dipped his head and then squared his shoulders, putting his hands deep in his pockets.

"Ya basta," he said, in his deep, rumbling growl.

There was a movement beside him. B'Elanna appeared.

"Enough is enough," she supplied, quietly. "It's what you said, isn't it? This place is a symbol. And we should make sure it's a symbol for us. Not for them."

Kathryn simply looked at B'Elanna for a second. Then she reached out and took the girl's hand. B'Elanna smiled faintly as Kathryn squeezed her fingers.

"All right," Kathryn said, letting go of B'Elanna and turning to address the crowd. "Then it looks as if we have a lot to get started with. Neelix, you know what you're doing with the fruit trees. Perhaps it would be a good idea for you to head up a work party to deal with them. The rest of us can divide ourselves between vegetables and plants and get as many as we can in the ground as soon as possible. How about that?"

There was another general murmuring of agreement. The people began to move away in twos and threes, discussing who should do what and how.

"Kathryn Janeway?"

The voice came from behind her. Kathryn turned to see a woman dressed in a sharp blue suit holding what appeared to be a microphone. Beside her was a heavy-set man in blue jeans and a black shirt, the left side of his face obscured by the steadycam he held on his shoulder. Behind them Kathryn could see a white van with a satellite dish on its roof and the legend 'abc7' on its side.

"Yes?" Kathryn said. "Can I help you?"

The woman made for the gate at a brisk clip, her cameraman following on her heels.

"Stacey Jeffries, abc7 Eyewitness News," she said. "Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

Kathryn's reply was cut off by the tinny, whining noise of a motorcycle engine. It raised the hairs on the back of her neck, the sound of it drawing nearer the vivid precursor to a visceral memory she could not bear to relive or even believe was real. The cacophony grew and multiplied, becoming a roar as not one but an entire fleet of bikes cruised into view. Kathryn's anxiety spiked as she saw that each had a pillion passenger and that all of the riders had helmets with dark visors hiding their faces. Cold fear slid down her spine.

They can't shoot all of us, B'Elanna.

Just how sure are you about that?

Kathryn swung back toward the gardeners behind her. She wanted to yell at them to run, to take shelter, but there was nowhere for them to hide. The earth in the destroyed garden was as flat and blank as a new sheet of paper. Besides which, they were hemmed in by the metal fence. How could they run? Where would they go, even if they could?

She saw B'Elanna step forward. It was only a few paces, but to Kathryn just then it seemed as if the girl had struck out into a void so vast that just one step took her beyond reach.

The bikes slowed, rounding one corner, drawing closer and closer to where B'Elanna stood. Time became a crawl. Everything was still and awful and-

Then Franco moved. He took one slow, deliberate step, then another, then another, until he was standing directly at the girl's left side.

Tom Paris did the same, mirroring Franco's stance on B'Elanna's right.

Neelix stepped forward.

Then Kes.

One by one, every person who had been working on that rough patch of earth moved to stand behind B'Elanna Torres.

The motorbikes slowed still further and then stopped altogether, idling in the centre of the street.

There was no sound apart from the lowered thrum of the motorbikes' engines. B'Elanna stood her ground with her chin up and her shoulders square. The lead bike squatted there like an angry wasp stuck in syrup, the obsidian black visors of its rider and pillion gleaming blankly in the sunlight.

It seemed to last an age, that stand off: ten men on bikes against thirty people standing on the uncertain island of that broken, barely there garden.

Then, finally, the lead bike revved its engine and peeled away. The others followed suit, sliding out of view and away between the buildings.

"Kurt – tell me you got that," Kathryn heard Stacey Jeffries hiss behind her.

"Don't sweat it," the cameraman told her. "I got it."

[TBC]