Title: Absumption
Author: The Emu
Email: emu@zip.com.au
Size: 69K
Rating: R
Codes: Au of 'Timeless', A; J/P
Summary: 'Timeless' could have been worse. Someone might
have survived.

The Emu loves feedbackers. Critical discussion and
dissention *most* welcome.

Everlasting devotion to Margie, for friendship, wonderful
editing, and nagging me to do my course work.

This story is copyright to The Emu 1999, but the characters
are the property of Paramount, whom I thank profusely and
to whom I apologise for borrowing without asking. My profit
will be entirely cerebral.

==========

Absumption: (n) the process of being wasted away or
consumed


At some point the whine and creak of the settling ship had
faded, and an eerie stillness had taken hold of the bridge. No
warp vibration, no shifting air currents. No groaning of injured
crew.

Janeway sat up slowly, trying to work out why everything
looked so wrong. It was the angle. She was lying against the
conn, tangled under Tom's chair. Jarvin was lying a few
metres away, head at an unnatural angle. She should go to
him, but she couldn't move. Was she paralysed? Janeway did
a limb-by-limb check, but she could feel everything, could
wiggle all her fingers and toes. And she'd sat up. She just
couldn't move.

Could she talk? She swallowed awkwardly. "Status?"

The chair above her creaked. A moment later, "Screwed."

She looked up to meet Tom's gaze, which widened in alarm.
"Captain, you look awful. I'll get a medkit." He stood, and
froze.

"Tom?"

"Kahless."

He was sickeningly pale, swaying, so she croaked a little
louder. "Tom?"

Finally, he looked at her. "It's bad."

It was a moment before she understood. She hadn't yet
thought to wonder why she was lying under the conn. The
slipstream.

"Help me up."

Tom ignored her, fetching the medkit from behind the
command chairs. "You're not going anywhere until I check
these wounds."

"I'm fine."

"You're bleeding."

Janeway checked herself over again, and discovered a deep
gash under her right rib, bleeding heavily. "I didn't notice..."

"We're in shock."

"Where's the rest of the crew?"

Tom dropped to his knees, face grim. "We need to get you
back in action before we worry about anyone else. I don't
suppose... Paris to sickbay?" Silence. Tom took a breath.
"You've done a lot of damage to your liver, but I can patch
that pretty easily in the short term." He ran a regenerator
over her. "There's not much I can do about the concussion,
but that's mild anyway. The blood loss is a problem."

Janeway looked ruefully around her dark puddle. "I don't
suppose you've got a sponge on you?"

His look was faintly incredulous, but she was too tired to give
a damn.

"If you get me to my chair, I can start running diagnostics."

"The computer's offline. Everything's offline." Satisfied with
her condition, he dropped the tricorder into the kit and pulled
out the regenerator to run over his own shoulder. "I've done
what I can. I'm going to check the rest of the bridge crew,
and then I'll be back, okay?"

"Okay." She watched him go, frowning. She was the Captain.
She didn't need her hand held like some inexperienced ensign.

Tom was wandering around the bridge, moving from person
to person far too quickly to help them. It was dark; Janeway
hadn't noticed that before. Only a fraction of the emergency
lights seemed to be working. Tom reached Tuvok, where he
slipped into a flurry of activity.

"Tom?"

"He'll be fine."

"The others?"

A series of beeps and a clunk of equipment. "There's nothing
I can do."

"You should get down to sickbay, make sure the Doctor is
online. We're going to need him."

"I'll go as soon as I finish the bridge." He climbed to his feet
and checked the remaining crew, face growing harder with
each lost cause. Eventually he returned to Tuvok, dragging
him over to lie beside Janeway. "He'll wake up on his own.
Just keep an eye on him."

Tom stood to go, and nausea washed through her. "Don't be
long."

He leaned forward to squeeze her shoulder. "I'll be as quick
as I can."

He didn't even try for the lifts, heading straight to the Jeffries
tubes and disappearing into the ship.

Janeway looked at Tuvok, who might have been asleep, from
all appearances. The slipstream had gone wrong. Janeway
had vague memories of gripping the handrests as the ship
rocked and jarred, voices shouting, all of it pointless because
it was out of their control. Jubilation wrenched away with a
sickening twist as Janeway realised they weren't going to
make it home. And sicker, now. Nobody else here was ever
going home.

This was what she'd always feared more than anything.
She'd taken a risk and woken up in a pile of other people's
bodies.

Someone was shaking her. "Captain."

"Tom? That was quick."

"I was gone for almost an hour. You passed out."

"Oh."

"I've got some blood." He clipped a flask to a hypospray and
held it against her neck.

"How does the situation look in Engineering?"

"There isn't one." His face was perfectly neutral.

"Care to explain that to me?"

"There is no Engineering. It's a wonder the core didn't
breach."

"Have the crew got a forcefield in place?"

Tom sat back, tossing the hypospray into the kit angrily. "No.
There is no forcefield. There is no crew. We're not going
anywhere, ever."

"It can't be that bad-"

"Ken Dalby and Jen Delaney are searching the rest of the
ship for survivors. Vorik is paralysed, but I think he'll pull
through. There's no one else."

"What about the Doctor?"

"The sickbay computer is offline. The holoemitter seems fine,
so we might be able to retrieve him later, but right now..."

"Right now, it's not an option." Janeway was already feeling
clearer. "Finding survivors is our first priority."

"I've got Ken and Jenny doing a search of the major centres,
assessing the damage as they go."

"Then I need you to get me to Environmental Controls. We
need life support back online before we lose the remaining
heat from the warp core. Can we leave Tuvok here?"

Tom ran the tricorder over him. "It will be better to wake
him. Not ideal, but it should be okay, now. I think." He
pressed a hypospray to the dark neck, waiting tensely until
Tuvok stirred.

His eyes opened slowly, taking in his companions before he
attempted to speak. "I take it our slipstream experiment
failed."

Tom helped him sit up. "In a big way. The ship is virtually
destroyed. Most of the crew are dead."

"My condition?"

"You've got some pretty severe cranial injuries. I've stopped
the bleeding and eased the pressure, but you'll need to have
the Doctor look you over. Can you walk?"

"I believe so."

Janeway leaned on the conn to stand, glad to find the
dizziness was only slight. Tom pulled Tuvok to his feet and
wrapped a supporting hand around his waist. They began the
long journey to Environmental Controls.

	=/\=

Janeway's hand slammed against the panel.

"I fail to see how jarring the circuitry will improve matters."

"Do you have a better idea, Tuvok?"

He'd been full of helpful suggestions as to why everything
she tried wouldn't work, and little else.

"Problems?"

Janeway looked at Tom, who'd appeared in the doorway.
"You could say that."

"It's starting to get cool in here."

"There are ruptures all through the system. It'll take days to
get even minimal life support back online - and then only if I
can lay my hands on a powercell. Do we have any
powercells?"

Tuvok shifted. "Most of the powercells were stored in
Engineering. There may be a small number stored in cargo
bay one."

Tom moved closer. "So what do we do in the meantime?"

"We gather together, choose a base. Have you seen the
shuttle bay?"

"Not yet. It's heavy going through most of the corridors. A
machete and a pith helmet won't get you back that far. The
mess hall is probably our best bet. It's intact, there's food, and
there's no one there." He stopped, thinking. "You know, Ken
made some crack about starting a bonfire; that may not be a
bad idea."

"Excellent thinking. I want you to gather some environmental
suits in case the temperature drops too far, and meet us in the
mess hall. I'll get back to this later when we can drag a
powercell up." She pushed herself to her feet, swiping her
jacket from the floor and pulling it on. The last of the heat
from the warp core was already fading into the cold
outdoors.

Tom looked at her companion in concern. "Will you be able to
support him on your own, Captain?"

"Your concern is wasted. I will need minimal assistance."

Janeway just raised her eyes to the ceiling at Tom's puzzled
look. Tuvok had been terse since he woke.

Tom moved to leave, and Janeway sucked in a breath. "Tom!
Did you find anyone else?" She pretended her fingers weren't
digging into the console.

He didn't need to answer. "Not yet."

When he'd gone, Janeway moved to Tuvok's side but he
refused the offered hand, leaning on the wall for support
instead. When he finally seemed ready, she took his arm and
tugged him towards the door.

The sound of pounding footsteps pulled her to a halt.

"Paris! Lieutenant!" Dalby rounded the door. "Oh, Captain,
have you seen Paris?"

"He just left. Have you found someone?"

"There's a whole bunch in Stellar Cartography, but they're in
a bad way. Megan Delaney's there."

"Tom's on his way to collect some environmental suits. Send
him to Stellar Cartography, but I want you to get three suits
to the mess hall before you join him. That's our new base of
operations."

Dalby nodded. "I'll meet you there. And Captain - I'm glad
you're alright. You, too, Commander."

Tuvok straightened, waiting until he'd gone. "Crewman Dalby
has developed a talent for insincerity."

Janeway stared at him in appalled surprise. "Did it ever cross
your mind that he meant it?"

Tuvok started forward, forcing Janeway to keep up. "It is
doubtful."

	=/\=

Just finding Stellar Cartography was an impossible task.
Janeway had dropped Tuvok in the mess hall with a tricorder
and an order to find something flammable. Now she was
searching through a ship that should have been more familiar
to her than her own body, but debris made many corridors
impenetrable, and a couple of the Jeffries tubes had been
sheared clean away. Occasionally she would come across a
body, and try to move past before she recognised it, but she
always did. Allyn. Mannick. Neelix. Henley.

Stellar Cartography was hell. A third of the floor had been
pushed halfway to the ceiling, trapping people in so far that
they couldn't be reached to treat if they were treatable at all.
Vorik was lying on a litter, propped on his elbows to run a
regenerator over Ensign Ashmore. Ensign Ashmore needed a
lot more than a regenerator. Ken and Jenny were digging
through the rubble, while Harrison tended to someone who
seemed to be pierced straight through with a long shard of
metal.

At the centre of it all was Tom, hurrying between the three
patients that had been laid out along the wall, clipping out
orders to whoever would listen.

"Could you use another set of hands?"

"Captain, did you bring another medkit? Good. Hand it here
and start digging."

Janeway joined Jenny, who was scanning a particularly deep
pile of debris. "How's Megan doing?"

"She didn't make it. She died before Tom got here."

"I'm sorry."

Jenny moved a little further along. "What's one more?"

Janeway watched her, trying to read accusation in the
indifference, but Jenny was already absorbed in her work.

For what seemed like hours they tunnelled through the broken
lab, hauling aside pieces of wall and chunks of console and
things that seemed to belong to nowhere at all.

Janeway took a step back to stretch her muscles and push
the hair off her face. There was a patch of uniform in the
corner. "I've got someone." She pulled aside the metal
girders, barely noticing as another pair of hands joined hers to
heave the heavy bars out of the way until they could see his
face. Half-crushed.

"Jerron." Janeway sat back, wondering when she'd dropped
to her knees. "What was Jerron doing in Stellar
Cartography?"

Jenny let the bar rest back across him. "Probably looking for
me. He's been trailing me around a lot, lately." She picked up
her tricorder and moved on.

By the time they were sure there was no one left in the
rubble, Harrison's patient and one of the crewmen by the wall
were dead and Tom looked ready to collapse. Or cry. They
didn't have time for either.

Janeway retook control. "We need to get these people to the
mess hall. Everybody take one end of a litter except Tom."

"Captain, I'm fine."

"Tom, I want you to collect a couple of extra medkits and
meet us there. Is there anything you need from sickbay?"

"I could use a few things. Nothing I can't carry."

"We'll see you soon."

	=/\=

The mess hall was unrecognisable. A large section of the
floor was bare, the carpet rolled into sections and piled
against a wall near a reasonably-sized fire. Most of the tables
and chairs had been pushed to the side, a few left for the
remaining crew and a number of tables bound together to
serve as medical beds.

Tuvok stepped up to the kitchen counter, though he was
leaning heavily for support. "It appears that Voyager's carpet
is an ideal fuel. I have built the fire under a Jeffries tube to
act as a chimney, but it we are to settle here permanently, I
would suggest we adapt the tube accordingly."

"Agreed." Janeway and Delaney settled Vorik onto one of
the improvised beds, while the men lifted Nozawa's and
Powell's unconscious bodies onto the others. "We're going to
start a deck-by-deck search - where there are decks -
checking private quarters and anywhere else we can find.
Tom will be here soon. I want him to get some sleep. Nerve
pinch him if you have to. He's our only medic, and I need him
alert."

"You need to eat."

"We don't have time."

"A sick Captain is of less use to her crew than a dead one. I
have collected a number of ration bars, and you will each
consume one before leaving this room."

Janeway met his firm gaze, and then caved. The crew had to
eat.

	=/\=

Hunger sated and loaded up with a fresh medkit, Janeway
took the starboard side of the habitation deck with Harrison.
Room after empty room, hauling each door open manually,
stepping through scattered possessions, taking down the
names of the bodies on a PADD, collecting extra clothes
when they realised how quickly the temperature was
dropping.

She almost moved past her own door, but the search had to
be methodical, and there were some schematics in there that
could be useful. She clamped the manual release onto the
door and pulled it open, sweating a little even in the cold. She
barely looked at the room. It was much as she expected,
shattered goods, just like all the others.

She quickly tossed through the pile of PADDs in her desk
drawer. Personal letters, crew evaluations, supply manifests.
Mostly irrelevant. Through the door to the bedroom, where
the rest had been left on her bedside table. Now they were
lying across the floor.

Harrison hesitated in the doorway, looking strangely at her
bed. It annoyed the hell out of her.

"Yes, Crewman, I sleep in a bed. I do sleep, I'm human."

"Have you come across Mannick, Captain?"

Janeway's sorting slowed. "Yes. Yes, I did. I'm sorry."

A loud breath. "Oh. I... I guess it's good to know. One way
or the other, I mean."

She scooped up the entire pile. "Let's keep going."

	=/\=

Tuvok was scanning the patients when they returned, but it
was clear there was no change. Vorik was lying on his back,
hands steepled in a healing trance. Tom was out cold on a
pile of grey carpet by the fire.

"How long?"

"Lieutenant Paris has been asleep for 72 minutes. I
persuaded him to take a mild sedative."

"Good. Any sign of Dalby and Delaney?"

"They have not yet returned."

Janeway piled the clothes they'd collected on top of a table
near the sickbeds. "I don't want to leave until we've had time
to catch up with those two. How's the food situation?"

"There is adequate food stored here for the near future, and I
imagine that the stock in the hydroponics bay can be
maintained. The snow outside is composed of pure water, so
that will not be a problem."

"First good news I've heard."

"I'm glad someone has some." Dalby trudged in, Delaney
close behind. "There's no one left." The pair of them flopped
into the first chairs they found.

Janeway looked over the group. Everyone was exhausted.
They all needed to rest and regroup before they moved on.
"There's nothing more we can do today. We need to compile
our crew lists and then we rouse Tom and Vorik and
organise a plan of action for tomorrow over a proper meal."

Harrison cleared his throat. "I'm a passable cook, Captain. I
could organise a hot dinner from the fresh supplies while you
sort through the names."

"Good work."

The remaining four gathered around a table and began to
trade the names of the dead. Janeway uploaded the names
on Delaney's PADD to her own, plus eight officers present.
That left sixty two people who still hadn't been accounted for.

"We need to try to remember who we've seen while we've
been moving about the ship. Has anyone seen Chell?"

Silence.

Janeway hit 'unconfirmed'. "Jerron... we saw. Rollins?"

"Dead."

"Golwat?"

"I haven't seen her, but I know she was in Engineering."

Janeway listed her as dead. "Tabor?"

"Dead."

"Nicoletti"

"Dead."

"T'Rahn."

"Dead."

"Sam Wildman?"

No answer.

"Naomi?"

There was a long silence, and Janeway was just about to hit
'unconfirmed' when there was a soft "Dead," from Dalby.
Her finger lingered for a moment, and then pressed
'confirmed'.

"Bridge crew... Seven, Ayalla, Jarvin, confirmed, confirmed,
confirmed."

Ensign Harry Kim.

Delaney leaned forward to see why she'd paused. "Do you
think they made it?"

"I don't know."

"Risk analyses indicated a 15% likelihood that the Delta Flyer
would complete its journey if Voyager was knocked out of
the slipstream. The odds are against them."

Janeway's lips thinned. "I'll choose to believe that they made
it."

"Claiming they survived will not make it so."

She glared at him, a hundred retorts flooding through her
mind. And then she marked them as alive and moved on with
the list.

For an hour they sifted through names, itemising their
colleagues, until they'd exhausted their memories. Finally,
Janeway rested back in her chair, watching the names scroll
through her PADD. "Tom should be able to clarify a few
more names."

"Captain?" Harrison leaned over the counter. "If someone
can lend me a hand, dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

"I'll go." Jenny pushed her chair back and disappeared into
the kitchen.

"Tuvok-"

"I will rouse Vorik and assess our patients."

Janeway left Dalby to clear the table and crossed to crouch
beside the sleeping pilot. "Tom." She shook his shoulder, but
he didn't stir, so she pressed a counter-sedative into a
hypospray and put it to his neck.

She shook his shoulder again. After a long moment his eyes
fluttered and he groaned slightly, shifting. "Captain?"

"Dinner's almost ready."

He nodded, and she dropped her hand as he pushed himself
onto his elbows. "Did you find anyone?"

"No. Take a minute if you need it."


Dinner was a thick stew and bread. Janeway let everyone
settle into the meal for a few minutes before she brought the
meeting to order. "We need to set an agenda for tomorrow."

Tom slid into the seat next to her, fresh from checking the
patients. "We need to get the Doctor online. I can keep those
two stable for a few more days at most."

"Understood. Delaney, did you find those extra powercells?"

"There are four undamaged units, but we'll need to clear
some corridors before we can get them through."

"That's our first priority in the morning. Congratulations,
Vorik. You're our new Chief Engineer."

"I will endeavour to fulfill the role to your satisfaction."

"Get the Doctor online and I'll be satisfied. How are you
doing, Tuvok?"

"I will be perfectly capable of fulfilling my duties tomorrow."

"Excellent. You're going to lead Dalby and Delaney to
retrieve the powercells, then I want you to take Delaney and
get the environmental controls online. Dalby, when you've got
a cell to sickbay, you're to assist Vorik. Harrison, you'll stay
here to see about organising our food supply and play nurse.
Tom, you're with me. We need to find out what state the
shuttles are in. We might even be able to resurrect the comm
system through a shuttle, so I want you all to make sure you
keep your badges with you. Is there anything else?"

Vorik spoke up from his bed. "Should we organise a distress
beacon?"

"Yes, but that's a low priority. Survival is our first. Any more
questions?" She barely paused. "If we're finished, then I
suggest we get some sleep. I'm setting the tricorder to wake
us six hours from now. Make the most of it."

They made mattresses from the sheets of carpet, and
someone fetched sleeping bags from a nearby storage room.
As the temperature dropped further, they decided it would be
best for the humans to sleep in pairs to conserve heat. Tuvok
and Vorik declined; the control required to counteract the
touch telepathy would have overridden any benefits.

So Janeway found herself set to share a bed with Tom Paris,
while Dalby and Harrison curled up either side of Delaney.
Janeway would have preferred to sleep with Jenny for
appearances' sake, at least, but their two slight bodies would
have had little heat to preserve. And at this point,
appearances seemed to be of little consequence.

So they slid into their shared sleeping bags in their dirty
uniforms. Tom did one last scan of the patients and then
turned off the lights, finding his way to her bed by the glow of
the embers. He felt his way cautiously into the sleeping bag,
no doubt wary of brushing something he shouldn't.

For a few minutes they shifted, trying to find a way to settle
without too much bodily contact, and then Janeway sighed
into the air. Sharing body heat was the whole point. She felt
across until her hand brushed Tom's chest. He was on his
side, facing her. Without thinking too much, she rolled over to
put her back against his chest. Reassured, he settled a hand
across her ribs to pull her closer.

His knees rested in the backs of hers, the weight of his arm
immobilising her in the curve of his body. She wriggled, trying
to find a more comfortable angle for her shoulder, and his
arm lifted, waiting until she settled before curling around her
again.

Janeway lay perfectly still, listening to the periodic rustling in
the other bed.

A few minutes later it was Tom's turn to shift. He moved
back, stealing away their pooled heat, and she instinctively
shuffled back into it. He shifted again, and she felt an
erection prod her tailbone. They both froze.

She took a long breath, and then moved back against him and
laid a hand on his hip, stilling him. When he finally curled
closer, she placed her hand over his and they faded into
sleep.

	=/\=

The beeping of the tricorder woke everyone. There was the
unmistakable groaning and muttering of interrupted sleep
from the other beds, and from under her head. Janeway was
lying across Tom with her head on his chest.

She reached out of the sleeping bag to turn off the tricorder
and cursed. The air was icy, dangerously cold even through
her jacket sleeve. She picked up the phaser, glad she'd left it
within reach, and aimed the beam at the fire. "Take a few
minutes, everyone. I want this room heated before we get out
of bed."

She pulled her arm back into the sleeping bag, shivering
already. Tom wrapped his arms around her, passing her his
warmth.

Ten minutes crept by before Janeway pulled away. It was
still cold, but not unbearably so, and there was too much to
do. She climbed out of bed, quickly followed by Harrison.

"I prepared some porridge yesterday. It should only take a
few minutes to heat."

Janeway nodded, teeth already chattering. "Not my favourite
way to start a day, but it's a good choice. We're going to
need whatever it takes to get warm this morning."

	=/\=

Janeway dropped through the hole, and turned to catch the
equipment Tom threw down before following himself.

She shone her wristlight up the dark corridor; even the
emergency lighting had given up far behind them. "There isn't
much damage here. It seems the front of the ship took the
worst of the crash."

"That's not much good to us. We can hardly get half the ship
off the ground."

She pulled her pack back onto her shoulders and started
walking. "Maybe not, but if the shuttlecraft are intact we may
be able to find a better planet to settle on."

Their lights bobbed strangely in the abandoned corridor,
making everything freshly strange. Yesterday morning they
might have walked this same carpet while discussing the
latest mining mission or bantering about Academy escapades.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

It took her a moment to remember what he was talking
about. "I never thought I'd find myself hiking through
Voyager's frozen remains."

They let the conversation lapse, until they reached the
shuttlebay doors. Janeway slapped a manual release on and
heaved, but the frozen door wouldn't budge. Tom added his
own release, and with their combined weight swinging on the
door they managed to crack it open.

Janeway let go, shaking her arm, and paused. "Is that a
draught?"

Tom peered through the crack, and his eyes widened. "It's
snowing."

They levered the doors open, and stood in wonder. There
was a thick white carpet where the shuttlebay used to be,
and a wide grey sky above them. Janeway took a few steps
out, marvelling as she sank to her knees.

"Don't go too far, Captain. We don't have the resources to
treat pneumonia."

She took a deep breath from the frigid air, feeling it tingle in
her throat and lungs. She looked around and back at him,
where he hovered cautiously on the door ledge. "Where are
the nacelles?"

He leaned out, swinging from the door jamb, and then gave
up and waded out to join her.

"My, god."

There were a few shreds of metal in view from the port
nacelle mooring, silver ribbons like stars from warp. To the
left there was nothing but sky.

"I guess all that cross training in sickbay was fortuitous. I
won't be piloting again."

Janeway pulled out her tricorder and scanned the trail
Voyager had left. "There's a lot of debris that way, but too
much interference to be sure if any of it is intact. Either way
it's no good to us now. We'll have to come back with
environmental suits and time to spare." She wrapped her
arms around herself, shuddering, as the cold penetrated. "We
may as well be getting back."

Tom gave her a hand up into the ship, and shoved the door
closed against the wind.

	=/\=

The fire was still crackling when they returned. They dumped
their packs by the pile of supplies at the door and Janeway
headed to the table where Delaney was sitting quietly with
Harrison, peeling off her outer jacket as she went. "I take it
the environmental controls are still offline."

"Commander Tuvok spent hours repairing circuits one by one,
but it's not going to do any good. The base junction is
destroyed."

"It's not retrievable?"

Delaney shook her head. "The wall from the deck below was
pushed up through the back wall of Environmental Controls.
The base junction has been sheared away. Tuvok said there
was nothing salvageable."

Tom was already tending to his patients, rifling through the
medical supplies, but he paused at Delaney's tone. "Where is
he?"

She looked at Harrison, and then to Janeway. "He collapsed.
There was nothing I could do."

Janeway ran her hand over her mouth. Now there were six.

Something clattered in the medical bay corner. "Why didn't
you fetch me?"

Delaney returned her gaze to the table. "He was dead, Tom.
A cranial haemorrhage."

"But I thought I-"

"You told me yesterday that you'd done all you could,"
Janeway interrupted. "You admitted he needed the Doctor.
We've got better things to do than sit around claiming blame."
She turned to Harrison, who was heading towards the
kitchen. "Any word from Vorik?"

"Dalby dropped in an hour and a half ago to pick up lunch.
He said they were having some problems. A lot of the
circuits burnt out, and Vorik said he'll have to repair them all
to be sure to retrieve the Doctor intact." He began to pull out
plates. "Did you reach the shuttlebay?"

"What's left of it. The rear of the ship has been ripped clean
away."

Harrison shook his head, barely even registering surprise.
"Chicken or tomato soup?"

Approaching footsteps pulled their attention to the door just
before Dalby stuck his head in. "Oh, good, you're back.
Captain, we have a problem."

Janeway felt her eyebrows crawl upwards.

"Another one. The cold is starting to creep into the ship's
systems and the gel packs are going to freeze. If we don't get
the Doctor out soon, we won't be able to retrieve him at all."

"How long?"

"Vorik said thirty six hours. Forty eight at best. We could use
a couple of pairs of hands."

"Delaney, Harrison-"

"We're on our way, Captain." They pulled on an extra layer
of clothing and followed Dalby out.

"Looks like you're babysitting again, Mr Paris. You should get
some rest. I'm going to have another look around
Environmental Controls, see if I can't find a way around the
problems."

"What are we going to do if they can't be fixed?"

Janeway put her hands on her hips. "You're the historical
expert. What did they do before environmental controls?"

Tom looked out the window. "I can't say I ever imagined I'd
live out my life in an igloo."

	=/\=

Tuvok was laid out near the main console, no doubt left
where he'd fallen. Not much point in ceremony. Janeway had
to lean over him to access the base junction. It was as bad as
Delaney had said - not even retrievable for parts. Some of
the couplings were retrievable, but the environmental controls
were useless.

She wiped her hand across her brow. The strain was
wearing, exhausting. On a whim she prised open another
panel and felt inside. The gel packs were already firming up.
She considered taking them with her, but outside the ship's
regular systems they were useless. She sealed all the panels,
and headed back to the messhall.

	=/\=

Warm air flooded out as Janeway pulled the mess hall door
open, like the wind from a furnace, stinging her fingers and
nose. She stayed a moment, and then pushed the door closed
again.

"It's getting hot in here. Might be worth venting some air."

Tom looked up from his PADD, surprised to have missed her
entrance. "Air conditioning."

"Pardon?"

"That's what they did in the twentieth and twenty first
centuries. They used fans to blow air through mechanical
heaters. The design principles were pretty simple." He picked
up a second PADD. "I had another idea, too. We could build
a system of tubes into the walls and pipe the smoke from the
fire around this room. It would be good to keep the fire, but
this way we would save a lot of wasted heat."

Janeway skimmed through the PADDs. It all looked in order.
"Excellent work, Tom. We're going to need it. Can we
scavenge the parts?"

"That shouldn't be a problem, but I'd like to run the design by
Vorik first. See if he's got any input."

"Good idea." Janeway collapsed into the chair beside him and
sighed. She picked up his glass of water. "You mind?"

"Go ahead."

She drank, closing her eyes in relief. Damn, she was thirsty.
And she'd already finished the glass. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll get
you another one."

Tom looked at her properly for the first time since she'd got
back and put a hand on a wrist to still her. "Captain, you don't
look so good."

"We're all tired, Tom."

"Yes, but not all of us are yellow." He pressed the back of his
hand to her forehead. "No wonder you're running around
without the extra jacket. Wait here." He fetched the medical
tricorder and scanned her. "Forgive me for asking, but are
you peeing dark?"

She flushed. "I suppose I am."

"Your liver's not coping."

"It can wait."

"No, it can't. We need to clean your blood or you're going to
collapse."

Janeway gritted her teeth. "So how do we do that?"

"I don't know. We have biobeds for that sort of thing. I'm just
a damned nurse."

She took in the hard press of his lips, and his unsteady
breaths. "The Doctor will be running tomorrow. We only
need to hold over for one more day."

"We don't know that. Vorik's no expert in holotechnology. I
don't think he's ever even assisted in the Doctor's
maintenance."

"But he's taking it one step at a time and he's doing his best.
You've done an excellent job, so far, Tom. Just one more
day."

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair, then sat beside
her. "I'd be okay if I at least had access to the medical files. I
don't, so I'll have to keep it simple. I can't filter your blood -
not without better technology. Which means that the best I
can do is a large-scale transfusion." He kneeled beside her
chair to scan her abdomen. "I can regenerate a little more of
the damage. It's still patching, but if you'll agree to lie still for
the rest of today, you'll be able to hold over for a few more
days."

"Will I be able to work tomorrow?"

He shot her a token glare, but didn't bother to argue.
"Ordinarily, even after proper treatment, you'd be confined to
light duties for a week. Under the circumstances, I'll just
insist that you stay under my supervision."

"Fine. We'll head out looking for the shuttles tomorrow."

He sat back on his heels, preparing for an argument. "That
wasn't quite what I had in mind."

"It has to be done, and I want you and I to do that together.
The weather should keep my temperature down."

Tom let out a breath, considering, and then gave up and
headed to the kitchen. "I need to fetch some supplies from
sickbay. I want you to lie down until I return. And drink as
much of this as you want." He placed a jug of water and a
glass beside the bed and waited for her to climb in. "You're
not to go anywhere until I get back."

      =/\=

Janeway woke to a hand on her shoulder.

"Captain?"

"Tom?"

"It's Jenny. Tom's setting up the equipment."

Finally Janeway managed to wake well enough to focus on
the Ensign. "Shouldn't you be in sickbay?"

"I'm going to assist Tom. They'll be finishing up soon,
anyway. Vorik's not strong enough to work through, so
they're just insulating the packs to hold them overnight."

Janeway pushed away the coverlet as she realised how
damned hot it was. She could feel herself sweating. "But he's
retrievable?"

"We won't know until we attempt to download him." Delaney
showed her a damp cloth before laying it over her forehead.
"Sometimes the old methods are the best."

Janeway placed her hand over the cloth, glad when the young
woman drew back, respecting her space.

Tom dropped to his knees beside the bed and pressed a
hypospray to her neck. "This is a muscle relaxant. We're
going to drain three litres, so I'll need you to lie absolutely still.
I'll give you another anaesthetic to put you to sleep in a few
minutes, but I can't put you too deep without better
monitoring systems." He leaned forward to lift her and she
pushed him away.

"I can get to the table on my own, Tom."

"I didn't convince you to lie here only to have you walking
around, increasing your heart rate again." He pushed her
down and scooped her up. "The more relaxed you are, the
better."

There was a blanket on the table, but it still felt cold and hard
after the carpet-mattress. Delaney laid a second blanket over
her. "You'll be cold when we transfuse the new blood."

Tom reappeared, hypospray in hand. "See you in a few
hours."

	=/\=

Quiet murmuring and the click of cutlery drew Janeway to
consciousness. The others were sitting at the table, discussing
how much of the ship should be sealed off to live in for the
long term. She lay still and eavesdropped, too tired to do
more.

Dalby wanted to heat as wide an area as the damaged decks
would allow. Delaney was leaning in his favour. They would
need privacy, and there was no telling how much damage the
creeping frost might do. Tom wanted to start small, conserve
energy. There were no small rooms nearby that would serve
as private quarters anyway.

Harrison was content to listen, until he saw her move.
"Captain."

Tom was on his feet in an instant. "Don't sit up, yet." He
scooped up a tricorder and began to scan. "I overestimated
how much blood you could lose. Your body will need a few
more hours to recover from the shock. How do you feel?"

"Tired." Her voice was rusty, and she realised her mouth was
dry. "Heavy. A little dizzy. Apart from that, I feel fine."

He propped a couple of pillows behind her and put a glass of
water with a straw carefully into her hands. "I've given
everyone a check-up to see if I'd missed anything else. Dalby
has some mild internal bleeding I'd missed, so I think he
would be best left here tomorrow. We were thinking
Harrison could assist Vorik while Delaney starts scavenging
through the ship. Collect parts, phasers, tricorders - whatever
looks useful."

Janeway released the straw. "That sounds like a plan. Don't
go too far, though, Ensign. I'd prefer that we stay in pairs as
much as possible for now."

"Understood."

Tom started filling hyposprays. "Nutrients. You weren't
processing food properly anyway." He nodded at the next
bed, where the Vulcan was deep in sleep. "Vorik's spine isn't
healing well. He should be in a stasis field, pondering the
teachings of Surak, not shifting through circuits. At this rate
the damage may become permanent."

"There isn't much we can do until we have the Doctor back."

He sighed. "I know. Give yourself a few minutes to wake up
properly and then I'll help you to bed."

"Finish your dinner. I'm more comfortable up here while
everyone's awake, anyway."

He nodded, understanding, and contented himself with
refilling her glass. "Let me know if you need anything."

	=/\=

Janeway woke deep in the night. Breathing was heavy in the
still room, and there was a cracking sound that she slowly
identified as grinding teeth. She propped herself up slightly to
look around, but the room was set in shades of black, the
shapes of the other beds crude silhouettes against the deep
grey of the walls.

She was lying half-on Tom, her left leg between his, and her
chest had been pressed against his ribs. She settled down
again, searching for the comfortable spot she'd just
abandoned.

It eluded her, bumps and bones intruding wherever she
rested, seeming to follow her as she shifted back and forth.
His arm was lying where she wanted her shoulder, and his
chest was the wrong height to position her breasts. His thigh
was solid between hers, a cord of muscle lying past her
crotch, rubbing as she moved. Burning. She froze as she
realised what she was doing, and then a hand settled on her
lower back.

The hand nudged her up until she was lying on him, her
crotch pressed hard against the top of his thigh, the soft ridge
of his forming erection digging into the delicate flesh inside
her hip.

Janeway turned her head away so that his shoulder was
digging into her cheek, and for a long time they stayed there,
unmoving. Their breathing fell into counterpoint, Tom inhaling
as she exhaled, exhaling as she inhaled.

She began to wonder if he'd drifted off again, pressed her
hips against him. He pressed up to her, and their hips began
to rock, somehow absorbing a rhythm from the breathing of
their companions.

The tension of the past two days slowly contracted, sliding
though her body to settle in her hips and lower spine, licking
forward as Tom tilted his hips up to hers.

Friction burned through her body even as cold bit at
Janeway's cheeks and ears. The air dripped down her neck
like ice water, melting at her centre.

Hot fingers slipped up under her jacket, unzipping her
trousers and waiting only a moment for an objection she
didn't make before pushing them over her hips and down her
legs. When he'd reached as far as he could she wriggled
them the rest of the way off and lifted up so that he could
push down his own pants.

She rested against him and snapped back. He was flaming,
inhumanly hot. His hold loosened, and she forced herself
back against him. Tom's hands pulled her harder against him
so she twisted her hips, taking him inside, forcing herself
open, the moment marked only by his quick intake of breath.

The first contact she'd had with a man in four years, and it
was a stolen moment in a room full of sleeping crew. She
rocked for a long time, rhythm unchanging, until she felt Tom
stiffen against her, his twisted breaths pulling at her hips, and
she slowly, gently, came.

	=/\=

The clash of pans woke her. The room was already bright
and warm, the fire burning high. She'd set the tricorder to go
off more quietly this morning, but evidently too quietly. She'd
slept straight through it.

Tom and Harrison were working on a hot breakfast while
everyone else slept, leaving Janeway the privacy she needed
to retrieve her trousers from the bottom of the sleeping bag.

She climbed out and crept into the adjacent bathroom to clean
up. Someone had left a flask of hot water and a cloth for a
sponge bath, so she cleaned up as best she could. She put on
a new uniform - there was no way to wash the old one, but at
least it could air a little - and pulled her unwashed hair back
into a ponytail. She felt surprisingly human. Even if she was
still peeing dark.

Tom was setting the table when she went back into the mess
hall, while Harrison woke Dalby and Delaney.

Tom looked up, face grim. "Nozawa has taken a turn for the
worse. He had mild convulsions about forty minutes ago.
He'll probably have more."

Harrison joined them. "I've been telling Tom he needs to stay
here today."

"There's nothing I can do, Captain. Either the Doctor will be
repaired in time, or he won't. In the meantime, all I can do is
watch."

Janeway put her hands on her hips. "Then I guess we're
going shuttle-hunting. When will breakfast be ready?"

"Five minutes. The darlot fruit are steaming."

"Thank you, Mr Harrison. Is there anything I can do?"

He shook his head, so she made her way over to Nozawa's
bed. It was hard to tell if he looked any different from
yesterday; everyone looked pretty exhausted. He'd been this
pale, hadn't he? Powell looked no better. Whatever
happened, it was out of her control, now.

Tom came over and handed her a couple of hyposprays.
"Breakfast. You haven't been processing your meals
properly, so you'll have to keep taking nutrients this way until
the Doc can fix you up. You can have a little to eat, if you
want something in your stomach, but it won't make much
difference. How are you feeling?"

"Much better." Janeway injected herself. "I think my
temperature has finally evened out."

Tom scanned her. "It has. Not great, but you should be able
to travel."

"Breakfast is ready."

Since she couldn't eat, Janeway organised Vorik's breakfast,
a hypospray special much like her own, that the Vulcan could
take lying down.

Vorik hid the humiliation of being cared for by his Captain
quite well, though he didn't have a fraction of Tuvok's control.

As soon as Tom had cleaned his bowl, he joined Janeway at
the clothes rack. They pulled on an extra layer of clothing
before helping each other into the environmental suits. With a
simple nod to the rest of their companions, they put their
helmets under their arms and headed out into the corridor.

Janeway shivered as soon as she stepped into the frigid air,
noticing Tom did the same. They shared a glance, and then
Janeway led the way to the Jeffries tube. The skis were
stored two decks down: an annoying delay, particularly when
it meant climbing ladders in suits, but the skis would make all
the difference once they got off the ship.

The headed through deck four, pretending not to notice that
they were stepping over the bodies of their friends, already
aged with drawn grey faces and frosted hair. They would
have to decide at some point what to do with all the dead - if
anything - but it was a problem to deal with later.

They picked out skis and stocks, and made their way astern.

	=/\=
		=/\=
			=/\=

Spirits. It was like a ghost ship. Their flashlights bounced
strangely off the thick layer of white frost that covered
everything; a chunk out of his past, out of him, literally frozen
in the ice.

Chakotay pushed back his hood and goggles, felt Harry do
the same beside him.

"Not exactly the way I remember it."

They found their way to a wall-panel. Harry brushed the ice
off with his sleeve, and Chakotay clipped a power cell to the
surface. Felt a little of the tension ease when the panel
flickered to life.

Harry's fingers flew over the keypad, instant familiarity.
"Power grid's been destroyed. Neural gel packs frozen solid.
Decks nine through fourteen are now deck ten. They've been
compacted."

Chakotay watched the information flash by. "Looks like they
hit the ice at full impulse." He should feel more than this,
shouldn't he? "The EMH?"

"I'm trying to access sickbay. The relays aren't responding."
The panel began to flicker. "I'm losing the interface - reset
the powercell!"

Chakotay started tapping buttons, but the panel went blank.

Harry's fist hit the wall "C'mon!"

"Let's get moving." Chakotay had to keep him on the job;
Harry with time to think was always a problem. "Keep an
open comm link."

Harry shifted off, and Chakotay headed for the turbolift shaft
to the bridge.

	=/\=

Chakotay hauled himself up through the floor of the turbolift,
cursing the thick snowsuit. Better than cursing his old body.
The doors were open, giving him a full view of the bridge.

Welcome home, Chakotay.

Frosted bodies at their posts, white silhouettes he might never
have recognised if they'd been somewhere else. If he hadn't
assigned them to these very posts on their last day.

He walked slowly past Ops, needing to give some passage to
these people before he turned to business. It was a
graveyard, like they'd had centuries ago on Earth, but these
people didn't need stones to mark their places.

The abandoned conn, set in white; the empty command level.

Kathryn should have been right here. He played his torch
around the stairs, needing to see her, but she wasn't there.
He turned back to the conn. Tom wasn't here either. He
hurried around to finish his circuit of the bridge. Tuvok, too.

"Chakotay to Tessa. Run a scan for lifesigns."

"Lifesigns?"

"Do it!"

He could feel her frown. "There's still too much interference-
"

"Harry to Chakotay."

Chakotay felt something curl in his stomach at Harry's tone.
"Go ahead."

"I'm in sickbay. Someone's been here recently, and I can't
find the Doctor's holoemitter. I've gone back to the corridor,
and there's a Starfleet issue door clamp on the door in front
of me."

Chakotay was already heading for the shaft.

      =/\=

Harry was waiting for him. "Do you think the Doctor was left
on his mobile emitter?"

Chakotay didn't answer. He didn't want to imagine living
alone in this tomb for fifteen years. Better that someone
raided the empty ship.

They pulled the door open together, jaws dropping as light
poured through the crack and a warm breeze flowed around
them. They exchanged a glance, and slowly moved inside.

A cord of lights ran down the centre of the ceiling, lights that
had clearly been scavenged from somewhere else in the ship.

From somewhere ahead came the low drone of quiet voices.
Harry pulled out his tricorder, scanning the corridor.
"Lifesigns."

"I told you, I didn't leave the door open!" It was a boy's voice,
moving quickly towards them, until he came around the
corner and pulled up in amazement.

He was a teenager, twelve or thirteen years old, with a slight
build and brown, tousled hair. His blue eyes were wide,
terrified.

Chakotay took a few steps forward, and the boy inched back
against the wall.

"It's okay, we're not-"

"Dad! Dad!"

Chakotay spared a glance for Harry. He looked like he was
about to throw up.

"Callan?" That voice... The boy swung to meet its
approaching owner, clamping himself to the taller figure who
raised his arms in surprise. "What is it? Cal?" He nudged at
the boy's shoulder, never looking up.

"Tom?" Harry asked, shakily.

Tom Paris's head jerked up, shock spreading across his
features. For a moment he just stared, from one to the other,
mouth opening and closing. Finally, he licked his lips. "Harry?
Chakotay?" He waited for confirmation, for Chakotay's nod,
and then peeled the boy off and met them halfway, throwing
his arms around them both. "You made it?"

Harry pulled back, the familiar loathing filling his voice. "All
the way."

Chakotay grabbed Tom's arm. "How many? How many
survived?"

"There were seven of us. A few more survived the crash, but
we didn't have the resources to save them. We've been living
in the mess hall. We knew you'd come back for us." He
looked around until he saw the boy, who'd slipped past them
to close the door. "Callan? This is Harry Kim and Chakotay."

His mouth formed a small 'o'. "You were on the Delta Flier."

"That's right."

He looked exactly how Chakotay might have imagined Tom
and B'Elanna's child would look, if a little shy. For a long
moment they all just stood there, looking at each other, and
then Tom tugged their sleeves.

"Come on. You have to see everybody." A smile touched his
eyes. "Everybody has to see you."

Callan led the way down the corridor, throwing frequent looks
over his shoulder at his father's friends. Father... hell.

Tom watched him affectionately. "He's never seen strangers
before. And your names come up frequently." He smiled at
each of them. "We always believed you made it."

Callan stepped into the mess hall a few seconds ahead of
them. "Everybody. It's Harry Kim and Chakotay!"

The mess hall was almost unrecognisable, most of the
furniture gone and replaced by one large, round table where
Kenneth Dalby and Vorik were staring, unashamedly. Brad
Harrison was at the serving counter, soup ladle dripping. A
boy no older than ten and a toddler in a pink suit were
watching warily from a blanket in front of an empty fireplace
in the far corner.

Vorik moved first, standing awkwardly. "Commander.
Ensign. It is... a pleasure to see you."

"A pleasure, hell." Dalby pushed his chair back and circled
the table to clap them both on the shoulder, hesitating, and
then hugging them both. "It's fucking wonderful."

Callan picked up the toddler and brought her over, the boy
trailing close behind. He looked over Chakotay's shoulder to
seek Tom's approval, and then lifted the girl up to show her.
"This is Kit. That's Toby."

Chakotay went down on one knee. "Hello, Toby."

Toby backed up behind Callan, who turned around, shooing
him forward.

"This is Chakotay and Harry. From the Delta Flier."

Toby wasn't impressed.

Dalby swept the boy up in his arms. "We're going home,
Toby." A kiss on the nose. "Home!" He settled him on one
hip and then guided Chakotay and Harry in, pulling off their
coats without ceremony or regard for the child in his arms,
and shoving them towards the table. "Come in, come in. You
have to tell us everything. What was the homecoming like? Is
the war over? Is anyone with you?"

Vorik sat back down, leaning heavily on the table. "May we
presume you completed your journey?"

Chakotay flashed a smile. "All the way into Federation space.
We didn't know where you came out. We've both-"

"Harry?" They all swung around in time to see Jenny Delaney
bound, shrieking across the room, leaving the Doctor agape in
the doorway. She wrapped herself around him. "I don't
believe it! You found us!" She didn't let go of Harry, but
Chakotay did receive a wide smile.

The Doctor wandered in, hands clasped behind his back.
"We'd begun to think you weren't coming."

"Speak for yourself, Doc."

"So where are we?"

"What have you both been doing for the past fifteen years?"

"Have you seen any of our families?"

"What's been keeping you?"

Chakotay stared around the room, smiling. "You look damn
good for a bunch of dead people."

Tom stood close to Harry, obviously worried by his old
friend's distance, but by something else, too. "Jen-"

Delaney smiled at him. "She was right behind us. She just
stopped to check the fuel levels on the generator."

Harrison finally made his way over to sit a couple of seats
away from Chakotay, putting a bowl of soup in front of him.
He smiled at Chakotay's questioning look. "Turns out the
Doctor has quite the green thumb. The hydroponics bay has
been thriving."

The soup was good - a blend of tastes he hadn't remembered
in years, even... yes, that was leola root. "We noticed a forest
about twenty kilometres west."

"Good for firewood, but there's not much to eat." A pause.
"It's good to see you, Commander."

Chakotay took another spoonful. Leola root wasn't anywhere
near as bad as he remembered. "I haven't been Commander
for a while, now. It's just Chakotay, these days."

"You resigned your commission?"

"It was more a matter of..." Chakotay caught the pinched
look on Harry's face. "Yeah, we resigned."

Dalby came closer. "And the homecoming?"

Harry folded his arms. "Antimatter fireworks, long-winded
dignitaries, a Vulcan children's choir. We got medals pinned
to our tunics. Chakotay gave a speech commemorating you
all. Brought a tear to everyone's eye."

The silence stretched a little longer than Chakotay liked.
"You're in the Tecarus Sector, just outside the Alpha
Quadrant. You can be home in a couple of-"

His eye was caught by a figure in the doorway. Kathryn.

She was grasping the doorframe, unmoving. She'd let her hair
grow long again, catching it behind with a pony tail that
flipped over her shoulder. There was a hint of grey in her
hair, frosting like the ship outside, and lines had settled gently
into her face. She was smaller and more beautiful than ever.

"Mom!"

Mom?

Callan walked over and took her hand, pulling her into the
room. "It's Harry Kim and Chakotay. They came back."

Kathryn let herself be led, eyes playing over her planet-bound
family. She found Tom and he smiled reassuringly.

Chakotay stood and moved to meet her halfway. "Kathryn."
When she didn't react he looked at Tom, who was watching
sadly. Tom gave him a nod, and Chakotay pulled her into his
arms, choking in relief when she hugged him back, hard.

"Tessa to Chakotay. Are you going to give me an update?"

Chakotay pulled back and took the comm badge Harry
passed him. "We're here."

"Chakotay, we have trouble. There's a Federation ship on
long range sensors. If we want to get this done, we'll have to
get moving."

"There's a change in plan. We found them. There are
survivors." His hand slipped around Kathryn's cheek and her
lip tilted. Just barely, but he knew the beginnings of her smile
as well as he'd ever known anything.

"Survivors? There's still-" Tessa stumbled, disbelieving. "I'm
going to move behind the moon to evade their sensors.
You've got six hours at best, Chakotay; let me know when
you've got a plan."

The comm signal cut off, and Chakotay rolled his gaze over
the assembled faces. Dalby was standing - close - behind
Harrison's chair, grinning stupidly and clutching the girl while
Harrison watched Chakotay, hopeful but restrained. Vorik
was seated beside him, with a spark in his eyes that Tuvok
would have disapproved of entirely. The Doctor was standing
by the counter, arms folded, doing his best to look
unimpressed. Jen Delaney was still clinging to Harry.

Only Tom seemed to have noticed something unusual in the
exchange. "The Federation ship isn't a good thing?"

Chakotay let his hand fall, but didn't move away from
Kathryn. "We're not too popular with Starfleet right now."

"Galaxy's most wanted," chimed in Harry. "We're wanted on
two counts of treason and one of conspiracy to violate the
temporal directive."

Tom looked at his friend as though he'd never seen him
before. Which he hadn't - not like this. "You care to explain
that to us, Harry?"

Chakotay jumped in. "We stole a Borg temporal transmitter
from Starfleet. We were going to send Voyager new
coordinates, change the timeline."

Harry stepped forward, out of Jenny's grasp, a familiar fear
washing over his face. "So what's changed?"

Every set of eyes swung around to stare at Harry. Even
Chakotay was speechless.

Harry crossed to him, pulling his arm until they faced each
other. "One hundred and forty people are still dead!"

"Harry-"

He turned to the rest of the crew. "Don't you wish you could
undo what's happened? I can stop it, I can bring the entire
crew home safely!"

Harrison spoke, softly, "What about Toby and Kit? And
Callan?"

Toby wasn't old enough to understand more than the fear, but
Callan looked terrified. "What would happen to us? Dad,
what would-"

"It's okay." Tom put his arm around the boy. "We won't let
anything happen to you."

We. It was starting to sink in who Callan was. Son of
Kathryn and Tom.

Chakotay wondered how long it had taken them to pair up.
Not long: Callan looked almost thirteen. How the hell did they
decide to raise children in this mausoleum?

Kathryn put a hand on each of them. "I think changing the
timeline is out of the question." He almost had to lean into
hear her.

Harry heard her perfectly well, spun around to shove her
hand away. "Who the hell are you to decide that? You
wouldn't even know what was gone!" He bolted from the
room.

      =/\=

Chakotay found Harry at the end of the hall where they'd
entered, doubled over, gasping to hold back sobs. He felt
Paris pull up beside him.

"Harry, seven people survived-"

"So I only killed 140 people. Yeah, that makes a difference,
Chakotay." He shook his head. "You were with me. All these
years. You can't pull out on me now."

Paris pushed forward to rest a hand on his shoulder. "It's not
so simple, Harry. The last 15 years *did* happen. Nobody
has the right to hit the rewind button when things don't work
out how they'd like. You can't cut the mistakes out of your
life. There's a balance to things."

Harry looked up, ice in his eyes. "That's easy to say when
you don't live with the responsibility."

Tom humphed, more weary than harsh. "Look around you
Harry."

Harry's gaze dropped to the carpet.

"I live with this every day. I live with Kathryn who has turned
self-flagellation into an art form and the shell of the ship I
couldn't land and I have a room set aside for the bodies of the
people that survived who I still couldn't save. But I also live
with a closer family than I've ever known and a son who has
his mother's strength and sometimes I can be the one that
makes Kathryn smile. We fought damned hard for the last
fifteen years, Harry, and you don't have the right to take them
away from us."

Harry looked up again, eyes wet. "Tom, you should
understand, more than anyone. Does a day go by when you
don't wish you could rewrite Caldik Prime?"

It was Tom's turn to stare at the floor, but not for long. He
forced himself to meet Harry's gaze. "There are a lot of days
now when I don't think of Caldik Prime at all."

	=/\=

Chakotay left Harry in Tom's hands and returned to the mess
hall. He'd been dealing with Harry's guilt for too long;
perhaps he needed fresh ears.

The mood had mellowed somewhat after Harry's tantrum.
The Doctor had taken over the kitchen; Harrison and Dalby
were comforting Toby while Callan and Kathryn spoke
quietly at their own corner of the table. Chakotay approached
slowly, until they looked up to see him.

He sat on the other side of Kathryn.

Callan spoke first. "Is Harry alright?"

"He'll be fine.  He's just..."  Chakotay had no idea how to talk
to the boy; he seemed old and childish by turns. "He wants to
make up for sending the wrong coordinates, but he doesn't
know how, anymore."

Kathryn frowned. "We didn't get the second set of
coordinates. The comm signal broke up before he sent them."

Chakotay stared at her, feeling wild laughter echo
somewhere in the back of his mind. He'd followed Harry
through a fifteen year misplaced guilt trip.

Not that this journey had been entirely Harry's. He'd had his
own reasons, just as misplaced. And someone had stood by
him, even as he searched for a way back to the people and
the woman he'd loved. He wondered what Tessa would think,
to meet Kathryn and realise the oh-so-romantic attempt to
change the timeline wasn't going to happen.

He didn't realise he was staring until Kathryn pushed her
chair back. "I... need to check something." She walked out.
None of the others watched her go.

"She needs some space, sometimes."

Chakotay looked at Callan. "Is she always this sad?"

"Mostly." He shrugged. "I try to make her happy. I've made
her laugh, sometimes. No one else can do that." He darted a
look around the room. "She was happy when you knew her,
wasn't she?"

Chakotay smiled. "When we get off this planet you should
take her exploring. The years fall away."

Callan smiled shyly and leaned back, imagining his mother as
an explorer.

The others took it as a sign they were welcome. Harrison
turned a chair and straddled it. "Since when does the
Federation charge people for treason?"

Chakotay had asked himself that question, many times. "The
war with the Dominion did a lot of damage to the Federation,
and it wasn't all physical. Some of the ideals are still there, in
the people, but it's not the same union it was twenty years
ago." He looked around the group, realising how familiar this
graveyard atmosphere was. "Millions died. The entire Alpha
Quadrant is jaded. There's no exploration anymore; the
officers limped home and they're still there, licking their
wounds."

"How long ago did the war end?"

"Technology scavenged from the Delta Flier made all the
difference. A peace treaty was signed almost a decade ago,
but the war didn't so much end as fizzle out. There are still
skirmishes along the borders because neither side has the
resources to enforce the treaty."

Vorik tipped his head from his seat across the table.
"Intriguing."

"What is?"

"After all these years of regret, it turns out that our
experiment saved the Federation. In effect, we were the
casualty of war that made all the difference."

That was a truth Chakotay had always avoided in their little
crusade. If Kathryn had seen the future set out in front of
her, she would have made the same decision. Sacrificed her
ship and happiness to save her precious Federation. Chakotay
would have fought harder to oppose her. He'd let her seduce
him into supporting her that night, and he had his own
baggage of guilt to carry for it.

It hadn't been the shamelessly manipulative romantic dinner;
he'd known that's all that was. It was the self-loathing in her
voice that had undone him. He couldn't refuse her a chance
at peace, no matter how slim that chance might be.

Harrison wasn't so intrigued. "What happens now?"

"I guess you wait for the Federation ship to arrive." He
smiled. "Take you home."

"If we have homes." Harrison looked around for Dalby, who
pulled a chair up to sit beside him, and wrapped a hand
around his shoulders. Harrison leaned in, gratefully. "Ken and
I both come from border colonies. I don't suppose you've
heard much about the systems around the Chorzein sector?"

"Nothing specific. But most of the old Maquis fighting
grounds are a mess. Entire sectors are uninhabitable."

The Doctor folded his arms. "What about yourself and Mr
Kim?"

And that was the big question. They were going to restore
the timeline or die trying. They'd never had a plan C.

Paris walked in, exhausted, but still sized up the room in a
moment. "Where's Kathryn?"

The Doctor shot an unreadable look at Chakotay. "The
generator room, I expect. It's been rather intense in here."

Chakotay ignored him. "Is Harry alright?"

"He doesn't look like he's been alright for a long time." Tom
fell into the seat Callan had abandoned. Chakotay hadn't even
noticed the boy was gone. Tom noticed his frown, and wiped
a hand across his face. "Callan's with Harry now. He's been
keeping Kathryn afloat for years; Harry should be easy."

"She seems..."

"She has good days and bad days. Once the initial disaster
was taken care of she began to shut down. You knew her
well enough to imagine what living here, like this, could do to
her."

Chakotay didn't want to imagine. If he thought at all, he was
amazed she'd coped at all, cut off from hope, from action,
from her stars. And he didn't want to know that Paris had
pulled her through it. "Maybe leaving, she can finally move
on."

"She's here." Kathryn walked in, more steady now. "You said
your time is limited, Chakotay. Perhaps we should get down
to business."

Chakotay gave her a smile, as glad as she was to return to
action. "The ship following us will be the Challenger. Captain
LaForge is a good man; he'll take care of you all, but I think
the Doctor should come with us."

"Why me?"

"Like I told you; the Federation has changed. The time we
spent out here doesn't exactly give us ownership rights over
Voyager. Starfleet impounded the Delta Flier almost as soon
as we arrived, and as far as they're concerned, our taking it
back was theft. I doubt they'll grant you sentient rights as
long as they believe you could be useful to them."

Vorik leaned forward, head cocked. "You will continue to
evade the authorities?"

"We need to get the Doctor out of the way. After that, I
guess Harry, Tessa and I will need to talk."

"Who is Tessa?"

"The voice of reason." He smiled at their blank stares. "She's
a friend. A friend who will be glad you're all okay."

	=/\=
		=/\=
			=/\=

Tom and B'Elanna seemed to be arguing over yet another
holodeck game.

Janeway watched them over her breakfast, observing with a
little more than her usual curiosity. She'd always considered
them a strange couple. They'd acted like teenagers back
when Alzen was running her little scientific experiments, but
at least then there'd been some sort of attraction between
them. Since the effects wore off they'd seemed little more
than distant friends, spending time together out of habit rather
than any real desire for each other's company. B'Elanna's
depression might have gone some way to explain the
distance, but if you didn't turn to your lover in times of need,
what sort of relationship was it?

B'Elanna threw one last well-intentioned insult at her partner
as she picked up her tray. She gave him a nod and a cheeky
smile before heading out. No kiss goodbye, and Tom didn't
expect one. He went happily back to his own meal, not
bothering to watch her leave.

He seemed different, too. Janeway couldn't put her finger on
it, but since he and B'Elanna had been together, the old spark
had been missing. She'd believed it was an awkward personal
problem solved when he found B'Elanna, but somehow it had
only complicated her feelings as she watched the life sucked
from both of them.

And now it was more complicated than ever, as information
she had no right to know teased at her hopes.

"Would you mind some company?"

Janeway's head jerked up; she hadn't noticed Tom's
approach. "No- Have a seat."

He sat, and leaned forward on his elbows. "For a while there,
I really thought we were going to make it." He was trying to
disguise concern with small talk, but he was watching her
closely.

Just as she was watching him. Those eyes had a new
familiarity, and his voice seemed to echo. "Maybe we weren't
supposed to make it. The person who sent the coordinates to
bump us out of the slipstream must have sent them for a
reason."

She had no right to tell him. That future didn't exist, and this
one wasn't hers to change.

	=/\=

She hadn't told Harry about the second message in Seven's
implant, either. A boy had stared up at the screen through
nervous blue eyes set in translucent skin, as though he'd
never seen sunlight. He looked about thirteen, though he
might have been older. Thick clothes hid a wiry frame.

It took only a moment to recognise the interior of the Delta
Flier behind him, but she'd had no idea who he was until he
pushed his fingers through the tousled brown hair and began
to speak.

"My name's Callan."

She would have known that voice anywhere.

"In another lifetime, where a few survived the accident, I'm
your son."

Her son?

He shifted feet, still unsure of what to say. "You didn't want
this but you'll never be happy here. None of you will, so
Harry and I are fixing it." Fingers reached up to touch the
screen. "There's no way you'll know how much I loved you,
but at least this way you'll remember me."

Harry's voice called him, and he glanced nervously offscreen.

"I don't have time for more. I'm not sure if it's right to tell you
who my father is, but you told me once that you liked him
from the first time you met him, even though you were sure
the relationship would never work. It's been fifteen years and
you still watch him and smile when you don't think he's
looking, Mom, so if you know who I'm talking about, it's
worth a try."

"Cal! Now!"

He took a breath. "I love you, even if you'll never know it."
He pressed something to the side of the screen, and dissolved
into static.

===

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