It was a man's walk. Heavy and firm. She recognized it.

No.

No.

Suddenly there were two more footsteps. Not as heavy, quicker, but just as confident.

No.

Her eyes stared at the ground in horror.

She did not want to look up.

You can't let them reach you.

You can't let them touch you.

You don't know what will happen.

Still, she stayed down, and down. Huddling on the floor in fear.

She heard them come closer.

So close now.

You must not let them touch you.

She jerked, on instinct, on pure will somewhere deep in her soul.

You will not give up.

She rolled away on the floor, just managing to avoid them, stumbling and dropping her weapon.

She stared from the ground, at the two men who were lifting up now. They had both been reaching for her.

They stared at her.

The figure on the left was tall and heavy set, with a serious, aging face.

Daddy.

Her heart stuttered, and stopped.

She looked away, and saw the face of the man hovering on the right.

Her heart clenched painfully, and her stomach turned sour.

The man on the right was also tall, with a serious, intelligent face.

John.

She blinked at him.

He looks so young.

She had not seen him in so long, so very long. A lifetime.

He had looked just the same age as her when she had seen him last.

And now he looked so young.

Unlike her father his figure was trim and his hair was solid black, not a hint of grey grew there.

It never will turn gray, it'll be ashes first.

She looked down.

Stop it. Stop it. I don't want to face this.

It's your fault Kathryn.

It's your fault.

Totally unnecessary.

If only you could've chosen.

One of them would be alive.

One of them would be here with you.

Which one?

Which one would you have saved?

She suddenly recalled, as if there, the long weeks in her bed. Dirty, long hair over her face.

Hating the stars.

Why had she gotten up?

Why did she go back to Starfleet?

What had she been thinking?

She heard, rather than saw, them move closer again.

It's not them, Kathryn. She begged herself. She moved, uncoordinated, desparate, scooting away on the ground.

She stared at them, at their now dead eyes.

It's not them Kathryn.

She continued to stare in horror, just managing to back up a few inches.

She could not get up.

Her body would not move.

Her heart would not make it.

Do something she begged herself, one hand hovering behind her, hesitating.

Should she crawl back more?

Should she fight any longer?

Was this the truth of her life?

She was a murderess. A killer. A mistake.

All she had ever been.

The last word on her life. On the universe.

Failure. Death. Mistake.

She breathed in shudderingly, crossing one arm over her eyes as the two figures came closer.

It's not them Kathryn, she heard, almost in Chakotay's voice.

Katie, screamed someone, a high pitched howl.

The shriek a mother makes when she sees her child going over a cliff.

Was it her mother?

Katie, came a sharp voice.

A man's voice this time.

Her father's voice.

Deep and strong, unyielding.

From somewhere deep in her memories it came, a voice she had not heard so clearly in decades.

She moved her arm, and stared.

The figure reaching for her had not changed.

There were the same strong eyes. The same graying hair. The same beloved figure.

But it was not her father.

It's only a phantom.

In a single, fluid moment of decision, she unsheathed a dagger.

She pushed upwards and the knife in her hand turned into a phaser. She clicked it, and fired.

The beam was wide, and it hit both figures in the chest.

At the same moment her father and John fell to the floor.

And disappeared together.

Just as they had in the accident.

You have to forgive yourself Kathryn.

She shuddered and rose.

She holstered the phaser, and wrung her hands, panting.

I know.

Forgiveness can't bring them back.

She wiped one hand over her face, feeling exhausted and nauseous.

I know it can't.

But perhaps it can put them to rest.

She breathed in and out slowly and finally put both hands on her hips.

Her shoulders moved uncomfortably as they loosened.

She looked upward as she stood there, and imagined that she could see the sky.

She stood there for long moments, as the lights came on fully, and the attendants hovered at the entryway to the reappeared doors.

Finding her voice she said curtly, "Take me back to my people."

"Congratulations on succeeding Captain," came the leader's slightly less arrogant voice.

"Thank you," said Kathryn tightly. She wanted to get back to her ship and her crew as quickly as possible. She had no love for this eerie, unnerving place.

What's going to happen to Gretchen and Kh'thoh? she thought with dread.

She returned, moments later, to what seemed like a different world.

Kh'thoh was eating from another large buffet of meat, and Gretchen was picking at some kind of honeyed bread.

"What happened?" asked Gretchen, snapping her eyes up as soon as Kathryn entered.

She looked sharper than she had been when Kathryn left, and much more worried.

"Your Captain triumphed," said the attendant, bowing to her slightly.

"Well, well," said Kh'thoh, getting up, "I knew that you could."

"Are you healed then?" asked Gretchen, looking at her with wide eyes.

"I….do feel some better," said Kathryn, answering.

"But I think we'd better go," she added quickly, addressing the two of them, "It was very intense. I wouldn't recommend it."

"I'm Klingon," answered Kh'thoh solemnly, "I know what's coming."

"I'm going next," he addressed the attendant. He left the room quickly, uttering his goodbyes to the two women.

Gretchen had not moved out of her chair. She stretched her arms up and yawned, blinking slowly, eyes foggy.

What is it about this place?

A moment later Gretchen's head was on her arms and she was asleep.

I doubt if it's even afternoon yet.

So much for the conversation I was going to have with her.

Kathryn herself was not sleepy at all, but her brain was still slow, and she stared at the table now in silence.

I was probably gone about an hour. I'll let her nap about 30 minutes, and then I'll wake her up and we'll talk.

Not 10 minutes later, the attendant came back.

"We're ready for the young Lieutenant now," he said.

"Where's Kh'thoh?" asked Kathryn in alarm, rising.

"He has moved on to a different stage of our rituals," said the attendant, "He will be back to this room within an hour or two."

"Alright," said Kathryn, reaching down and rousing Gretchen.

"Gretchen, I think we should go,"

"What?" asked Gretchen, blinking at her.

"I think we should return to Voyager. We can beam Kh'thoh out later."

She looked at the attendant for confirmation.

"Yes," said the attendant, "You can beam him out this evening at the latest."

"But I haven't done my ritual yet," said Gretchen.

"It's not a good idea," said Kathryn, staring at her intensely, "We should go back to the ship."

She's just not strong enough for it.

"No," said Gretchen stubbornly.

"I couldn't stop Kh'thoh," said Kathryn firmly, "But I can stop you. You're a Voyager crewman, and under my orders. And even if you decide you want to change that, I won't let you do so in the middle of a mission. It doesn't work like that."

"I might never get another chance," said Gretchen, looking at her with wide eyes again. They were starting to tear, and she looked very young, "You said yourself it helped you."

Didn't I?

Didn't it help?

Even thought it was terrible, didn't it help?

Kathryn looked at her daughter's desperate, open face.

She made a decision.

"I'll let her do the ritual," she said, facing the attendant, and staring him down, "But only if I'm included."

"No arguments," she said, in her sharpest Captain voice, as Gretchen began to protest.

The leader looked at her, "Very well, Captain," he said, "Follow me."

Kathryn knew what was coming, and she braced herself as Gretchen chose a ba'leth from the table.

"I wish I could have a phaser," said Gretchen to her as she choose, "Is there anything you can tell me?"

Would it help her to know? Kathryn thought, looking at her face.

But a second later the choice was taken away from her, as they were ordered to the center of the arena.

The lights were dimmed, and there was silence.

There was nothing. There was nothing in the void as she looked out.

Kathryn stared for a long time, back to back with Gretchen, not knowing what to say.

Finally she cleared her throat and turned to Gretchen, but the woman did not look at her.

Her daughter was looking out at the void where there was nothing.

And then suddenly Kathryn saw it.

A slight movement.

White. In the air.

Flickering in and out, moving in shadows, as if looking for an opportunity.

Gretchen was not moving her vision from it.

In and out, in and out.

And then suddenly it was above them. There was a loud screech as it dove down, bearing its fangs and claws.

A spidery form was finally visible.

The Rift Aliens.

It went for Gretchen and she screamed, pushing the ba'leth towards it, but it only dodged and moved away, lurking a few feet from them.

It scurried away in the darkness again, waiting.

Why didn't that work? None of mine tried to dodge, or hide.

Why is it hunting like a deadly predator?

Because it is.

Kathryn's heart clenched.

Why don't I have a weapon?

What will happen if it bites or injures Gretchen?

It killed Naomi Wildman, and Miral Paris.

She had had a terrible, horrible idea of what would happen if one of those phantoms had caught her. As if her mind could not handle it. Would fold in on itself as her fear finally took shape and caught her.

Gretchen's mind is more than capable of destroying itself.

Still, she thought quickly, keeping one eye on the flickering light, knowing it would disappear any moment.

Gretchen's mind is strong.

And she's been fighting these battles a long time.

She's already solved this one.

She remembered the moment at the very end of her ritual, when her dagger had turned into a phaser.

A melee weapon is not a good choice against a phantom, flying spider.

Gretchen's mind created this horror.

"Gretchen," she said urgently, "Focus, focus all your mind. Create a phaser. Shoot that spider."

Gretchen's mind can kill it.

Gretchen looked at her in surprise, but then nodded.

Even as Kathryn heard the terrible screech again, and looked up, her daughter's hands were holding a phaser. She fired, and the horrible creature was hit, exploding into a thousand pieces and disappearing.

"Good job," said Kathryn, smiling, holding her daughter's shoulder.

The smile dropped, as Gretchen was staring again.

Staring at Starfleet figures.

Kathryn had been frozen by guilt.

Had seen the crew members that she had failed.

But these were not Gretchen's mistakes.

These were Gretchen's enemies.

Surrounding them in a circle, staring them down, were the Equinox crew.

Right in front was Rudy Random, flanked by Maxwell Burke.

On his other side, was a blonde woman, slim and pretty in a quiet way.

But her face, her face was pulled back in a sneer, and her eyes were wide and predatory.

Her mouth opened, and she laughed.

A terrible, monstrous sound.

No wonder her laugh haunted Gretchen for years. I'll never forget that noise now either.

"I killed her, I killed her," taunted the creature, "I killed her, I killed her!"

Gretchen turned to Kathryn without a word, and handed her the physical ba'leth.

Then she raised the phaser and fired.

The Equinox crew lunged towards them as one. They were trapped in the circle and it was chaos as Kathryn sliced downwards with the ba'leth and Gretchen blasted with the phaser.

The phantoms did not wait motionless, but dodged and feinted. They did not go down when Kathryn hit them, but would return after a moment.

Gretchen's blasts too, were not fatal, but would merely thrown them off for a few seconds.

They swarmed, and Kathryn went down, grappled by Maxwell Burke.

Gretchen screamed, and suddenly she was holding a plasma rifle.

She fired, and hit six of the Equinox crew at the same time.

They stumbled back, and disappeared.

She fired again twice, until there was only one figure left.

Gretchen picked up the ba'leth, and swung at the female figure, kicking her off her feet.

She stabbed the edge of the ba'leth into her heart, once.

And then again into her stomach, and again, and again.

The body shuddered and bled, her innards lying on the cold ground.

She isn't real. Kathryn reminded herself.

Gretchen should have her catharsis.

How long has she hated her?

The woman who killed her mother.

Who killed so much of Gretchen.

How long has she lived and lurked in Gretchen's mind? Torturing her?

Kathryn watched, until the woman was in two pieces.

Gretchen screamed and kept going. Her face grew more vicious, and she shook.

"Gretchen," said Kathryn, softly.

"She's dead, Gretchen,"

She reached out, touching Gretchen's face, her cheek where there was blood and rage and terror. She knelt down, and tucked one strand of the loose auburn hair behind her ear.

"She's dead Gretchen," she repeated, holding her gaze, "You can let go."

The ba'leth clanged to the floor, the body disappeared, and there was silence for a long time.