Gretchen did her best to avoid Family Weekend, Admiral Patterson had offered his classroom as a study haven for those who weren't going home and Gretchen took the opportunity to make some advances in her classes.
Biology II was difficult for her, but Kathryn was her lab partner, and always happy to help her study. Alpha Quadrant Cultures was very interesting, and an easy class for Gretchen, despite her lack of experience with the subject. It was a required class, and the professor went out of his way to make it accessible to those from the Beta Quadrant, or other cultures.
Earth History was a niche class, and the teacher had the opposite habit of assuming heavy background knowledge. Gretchen found herself struggling to keep up. Classic Earth Literature gave her the most trouble, but she was doing her best. She was enthralled with the novel And Then There Were None when Kathryn came back from her visit to Indiana.
"Guess what?" said Kathryn, hovering above Gretchen's book. Gretchen looked up, and glanced at Kathryn's face and its enormous smile. She was reading outside, and had not even heard the woman approach.
"What?" said Gretchen evenly, trying to yank her brain from the world of the novel.
"My father is coming to visit!," said Kathryn brightly, gesturing with her hands, "He's going to be here!"
Oh no.
"He hasn't been at the Academy since he dropped me off freshman year. Something in his schedule always contradicted with it," continued Kathryn, "And he doesn't like to visit too much. Wants me to stand on my own two feet, even though I'm an Admiral's child. But he's coming here for a whole month!"
"Why?" asked Gretchen, still stunned.
"Visiting with the Vulcan ambassadors," said Kathryn, "Every 10 years they go to either Vulcan or Earth to celebrate the alliance started at First Contact. It's Earth's turn!"
Every ten years? Why does it have to be now?
Gretchen did not respond, afraid of what she would say if she did.
Kathryn seemed to read it in her face, perhaps mistaking it for grief over the loss of her own family. She deftly changed the subject, without losing her enthusiasm.
"They're doing a Vulcan exhibit too," said Kathryn quickly, "It's a great opportunity to learn about Vulcan. The two of us should go together."
"Sure," said Gretchen, smiling slightly "Let's do that."
Anything, as long as your father isn't involved.
I have no desire to meet my grandfather, or to think about how he died.
She looked at Kathryn's joyous face again. It already hurt.
Despite Gretchen's dread, the day came. On her way to Earth History the next week, she saw Kathryn walking with a tall heavy man with broad shoulders.
She could not avoid them without running in the other direction, and she let Kathryn call her over and introduce her.
She glanced at the stranger, her own blood relation. Someone she had never met, and rarely thought of.
Gretchen could not recall seeing an image of her grandfather before. He did not look particularly like Kathryn in his features.
His expression was especially stern and professional as he greeted Gretchen.
Kathryn on the other hand was all smiles, holding his arm and walking as close to her father as she could get away with.
Gretchen had never seen her so happy. In her whole life, she had never seen her mother so happy.
She's going to lose him. She's going to lose him soon.
And it's going to be her fault.
How do you move on from that?
The introduction was quickly over, and the two walked away together. Gretchen rushed on to her class. She pushed it out of her mind during the lecture, and then for the rest of the busy day, but the thoughts quickly came back as she left her last class.
It's so hard to imagine her screwing up.
Gretchen sighed in her bed, looking at the ceiling. I wonder what happened when he died?
There had been an accident, Gretchen knew. An accident in a shuttle on Tau Ceti, underneath the ice, where mistakes could not be afforded. Prototype technology and no help readily available. Something had happened, and Kathryn had been the last one standing. And as the accident played out, she could either save her father, or her fiancé.
And she had chosen neither.
Both of them had died.
Kathryn had failed. Had panicked. Had screwed up.
An impossible thought.
Gretchen startled, as suddenly the strange humming from the other day came through her mind. The voice that controlled the vision was returning, the powerful whisper.
Do you want to see what happened? said the voice.
Yes, answered Gretchen.
The shift happened immediately, she was no longer sure if she was awake or asleep. Gretchen was seeing things that were not there. The inside of a shuttle, that had not been there a moment ago.
It was like the herb's visions, but more disorienting. Those were her own memories, but this was not, she had never been here before.
This was her mother's life.
There she was, in the center of the room, a young woman Gretchen knew well.
The figure was terrified.
Gretchen could almost hear Kathryn's thoughts, her face was so expressive. The conflict on it so clear.
Pain. Disbelief. Desperation. Pain.
Gretchen moved, and could see the readings behind Kathryn. They showed two figures trapped in the back compartment of the shuttle. The part of the shuttle where the hull had been breached, which was rapidly filling with water.
Their lifesigns were failing, but they were still alive, as harsh, freezing water was filling the shuttle.
They were drowning. The shuttle was sinking. More and more pressure was attacking it.
And the pressure was winning. Kathryn needed to leave, right now. To jettison the back of the shuttle and pilot herself away.
But the small, specialty transporter space only had room for one person. It had been damaged, and it only had enough charge left for one use.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Everything that could go wrong had.
What could she do? Gretchen thought, with a sense of controlled horror.
Was there a right answer?
Professionally or personally? Objectively or subjectively?
What was right?
Edward Janeway was the more experienced officer, the Admiral. It could be argued that his life was more valuable.
John was younger, had more years left, to enjoy and serve in Starfleet. It could be argued his life was more valuable.
One her father. The strong, solid man who had raised her. Who had taught her. Who she loved.
The other was her fiancé, the man she planned on spending the rest of her life with. Who she loved.
Gretchen grimaced and moaned suddenly as the moment lingered.
There was no right answer.
It came as a shock as she stared at the readings, and at Kathryn's face.
There was no right answer.
Kathryn had failed, had been unable to choose. Had frozen.
The worst practical decision. And the most human.
Kathryn had failed.
Goosebumps went up Gretchen's spine as her brain recognized it.
Kathryn had failed a no win scenario.
In an impossible situation, she had faltered.
So had Gretchen.
She had been Captain in the Rift. Head of a tiny crew of eight.
An impossible situation.
Gretchen felt the tears on her cheeks, seeing her own despair on her mother's young face.
This situation was doomed.
It would not be solved in time.
She watched her mother panic, and pace, pulling at her hair and her arms, eyes darting everywhere, like a trapped animal.
A feeling she knew well.
Gretchen's ship, the one she had captained so proudly, had always been doomed.
The ship had always been doomed.
Gretchen had failed a no win scenario.
In an impossible situation, she had faltered.
Gretchen stared at Kathryn's panicked, hopeless face, wanting to throw her arms around her.
Instead she stared, as something dawned on her.
She gulped suddenly, knowingly, as she stared at the woman. This was the moment that had made her mother.
She knew it, in the pit of her stomach, in the depths of her soul. This was the moment that made Kathryn Janeway the fearless, persistent, stubborn commander.
Because she knew what it was like to face the worst.
To be broken. And mended again.
Captain Kathryn Janeway.
Hopeless in this moment.
Would be a beacon of hope in a million others.
Perhaps, thought Gretchen, still staring at the despairing face, feeling it mirrored on her own, clenching her fists and biting down on her lip, scrunching her face up as her eyes pricked with tears, it's time I forgave myself.