It had been a very long time since Captain Janeway had had any help from her command team and after their long meeting, Chakotay had offered to take over her Bridge shift. Her break had lasted through two coffees sipped in silence, staring morosely at her desk, thinking about Gretchen, before she decided it was just as easy to work, and strolled out to take her Captain's chair beside Chakotay.

His lip quirked knowingly as she sat down. She was not known for her ability to take time off.

A few minutes later her own lip quirked, as a com call came from someone else on her crew who had trouble taking a day off.

"Captain" came Seven's clipped voice, "I've located a Klingon communications array. We will be there within 11 hours. Assuming it is functioning as expected, we will be able to contact the Alpha Quadrant."

"So much for a quiet few days," said Chakotay, smiling at her warmly, "If the crew was excited before, they'll be ecstatic now."

Ten and a half hours later they found the array. It was old, broken down, and partially buried in a nebula. Despite that, it did appear to work and Kathryn announced, right before she left the Bridge for the night, that they would be accepting personal letters to the Alpha Quadrant.

I suppose a relay to home is as good a place as any to take our 'vacation.' Captain Janeway thought, reflecting on her ship as she entered her Quarters just after midnight.

Kathryn had ordered only essential work to be done for the next week, with the crew getting an extra 3-6 days off each, the women getting the lion's share thanks to their months of overtime.

The crew needs this time, to have some sort of a break, and to learn how to work together again, she thought, as she grabbed another coffee from the replicator, After all this time…..

It was a very joyful but not entirely happy event for the female half of the crew that the male crewmembers were back to their jobs. Some of the female crew were getting demoted back to old positions, some of them were losing nicer Quarters with more space and privacy. For almost seven years now her crew had been frozen in their careers, unable to advance, change posts, to grow, learn, and move on. The stasis had allowed the conscious half of her crew to assume more responsibility, try new things, move up in the world.

Captain Janeway was not sad for one moment that the men had returned, but it reminded her again what she had done to her crew by trapping them in the Delta Quadrant…..and what she had done to her daughter by raising her on a stranded, hopeless ship.

Kathryn groaned, feeling a sharp headache coming on as a wave of despair and guilt hit her. The heaviness of their last conversation hit her full force.

My only child, who's lived her entire life in a cage.

…no wonder she wants to die.

Kathryn breathed in very sharply as she looked out the window in her Quarters, tapping the coffee mug, feeling desperate.

I can't give in to this feeling.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead.

Even with Chakotay and Tuvok back, I can't afford to do this, ruminate hopelessly on what's happened.

I'm the Captain.

Drowning myself in misery will do no one any good, least of all Gretchen.

All I can do for her now is wait and see. Maybe she'll talk to Tom or Harry.

Kathryn shook her head, very firmly, and sat down, grabbing a datapad and shifting her perspective.

It's a good day. It's an incredibly good day on Voyager.

She sighed, exhaling loudly, painfully, and then straightening her shoulders.

I won't waste it.

Kathryn very forcefully sat down, and turned her attention to a datapad, Starfleet and her family.

This is the third chance we've had on this trip to exchange letters with home. It's only been nine months since they've heard from us, a short amount of time in comparison to the intervals before.

Still, they shouldn't have to wait a minute longer than necessary. She thought, beginning to type.

If there's anything I'm good at, it's keeping busy.

By 4:15 in the morning, Kathryn had not only sent her report to Starfleet, she had happily written and mailed new letters to her mother and sister, and posted the letter she and Gretchen had written Admiral Paris together months ago, with an explanation of the included picture.

I wonder if Gretchen is writing anyone?

...I'm certainly not pushing it this time. Thought Kathryn suddenly as she remembered the argument that had inadvertently led to Gretchen's head injury...and caused her death.

Kathryn winced.

She remembered the strange feeling that her daughter was in the room with her when she was speaking to the K'Terrans, and then rushing to Sickbay to find her newly resuscitated.

Then a traumatized, broken daughter visiting her Ready Room afterwards, looking as if she regretted her very existence.

Finding out that it was some version of her mother, some living monster in the young woman's mind, that made her feel that way.

That had encouraged her to die.

Kathryn breathed in sharply, trying to think.

I suppose it was the K'Terran's weapon, the same one that saved us, that made Gretchen hallucinate her mother…..it's mysterious but….if I had to guess...dying made it so that she wasn't protected by our shields…..so that that strange devastating Song of Glass, the one we couldn't even hear, made her want to die.

Kathryn winced again.

Of course Gretchen was only affected because her memory of her mother was so terrible.

Because I was so terrible to her.

Kathryn frowned, shaking her head violently. The despair was returning.

She glanced at her bed from her desk, and frowned. Her work was done, there was nothing else for her to do in her Quarters. She needed to sleep, but she knew she would not be able to.

Her options were rather limited.

I don't want to wander the ship and scare the night crew. They deserve to relax a little this week.

Who would be up at this time of night?

Kathryn sat for a long moment, thoughts starting to dull due to the long day. Finally, a thought whispered through her brain.

Vulcans keep disturbingly early hours.

Kathryn relaxed her muscles, sinking into her chair in relief. For the first time in months, visiting Tuvok was a possibility. Her oldest friend and advisor, Kathryn considered him the wisest person on the ship.

As I recall, he used to start morning meditation at 5:00. If I take a shower and freshen up, it'll be just the right time to meet him.

She stood up, suddenly enthused.

I remember him inviting me to join him anytime. He'll be, well, whatever the Vulcan equivalent of happiness is that I took him up on it.

At exactly 4:55, Captain Janeway opened the door to Tuvok's Quarters, and was surprised for the second time in the last day.

Hunched over the meditation table, almost as if drunk, was a young woman with auburn hair Kathryn would recognize anywhere.