Chapter 1
Chakotay sighed heavily. "I hate to say it, but I'm afraid it doesn't look good."
Captain Kathryn Janeway's blue gaze flickered to the face of her first officer. She didn't answer at once. When at last she spoke, her voice was heavy but resigned.
"I knew I could count on you to tell me the truth." Chakotay had only spoken aloud the suspicion that had been growing in her own gut.
Chakotay nodded solemnly. His unhappiness was plain on his handsome face. "It doesn't look good at all."
A smile crept onto Janeway's lips. "All right, no need to rub it in," she said. "Well, as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained."
Grimly, she stepped forward and drew a cloth over the abysmal painting, hiding it from view. "Into the replicator it goes."
"You did have some interesting usage of color over in the upper right-hand corner," said Chakotay.
Her smile was a full-fledged grin now. "You're backpedaling. No, it was a pretty bad effort. I guess abstract is not for me."
"It wasn't for da Vinci, either," offered Chakotay.
"And now we segue into flat-out flattery," Janeway retorted, her hands on her hips. "Are you bucking for my job, Commander?"
"When we get back I might just want a little ship of my own again."
A variety of emotions rose inside Janeway. First, and most powerful, was joy. "When" we get back, Chakotay had said. Everyone aboard Voyager was now substituting that hopeful, happy word for the ambiguous "if." Their brief communication with Starfleet Command, through the auspices of one Reginald Barclay, had infused the entire crew with hope. Torres had already informed Janeway that the new hyperspace technology and the modifications for the com system looked promising. There was now every reason to substitute "when" for "if."
But there was also unhappiness and apprehension commingled in that thought. Tough as things had been over the last few years, they'd faced it together, she and her crew. They'd lost some good people -- and gained a few others in the forms of the remaining crew of the Equinox and the four Borg children. Janeway and Chakotay had grown very close. She hadn't even dared showed Tuvok the painting; she couldn't have dealt with Vulcan art criticism. Janeway could open herself to Chakotay as she could to no one else. The thought of him leaving her side, even to captain his own ship, was not one she wished to entertain overlong.
And of course, there was always the question of what kind of welcome Chakotay, B'Elanna, and the rest of the former Maquis would receive. The war was over, but she knew there were enough hawks in Starfleet Command that "forgive and forget" would likely not be the watchword of the day. From the little they had been able to gather, the Dominion War had exacted a dear cost. Some would want their pound of flesh, and with all the other Maquis safely accounted for, they might want to extract that pound from Chakotay, B'Elanna, and the others.
She'd fight for them, of course. With every ounce of strength she had in her small body.
"I hope you get that little ship, if that's what you want," Janeway said softly, impulsively reaching to squeeze his muscular forearm.
Sensing the change in her, he smiled gently. "Then again, who wants the hassles of command? It's easier being first officer."
"Barclay's changed everything, hasn't he?" She went to the replicator and ordered a cup of coffee. Turning to look at Chakotay, she inquired with a raised eyebrow if he wanted anything. He shook his head.
"Discipline has gone out the proverbial window," Chakotay said. "You've got a happy crew, but a pretty giddy one."
"Let them be a little giddy. They've been incredible. They deserve it."
"We all do."
"How is our little assimilation experiment going?" Janeway asked, sipping her coffee.
Chakotay chuckled. "Seven's doing her best, but she still doesn't think she's the best person for the job."
"Nonsense. Who better to help Borg children adapt to the challenge of individuality than a Borg who's made the journey herself? It is, as Tuvok would say, the logical choice."
"Logical doesn't always mean easy."
"I'll grant you that." Janeway thought about Chakotay's commentary on Seven's schedule for the children. "Fun" had been allotted one hour, on Seven's terms -- scheduled exactly the way mealtimes, exercise, and lessons had been. And Neelix's comment about Seven's blunt statement at playtime: "Fun will now commence."
"I don't think Seven quite gets the whole fun concept," Janeway sighed.
"Sometimes I don't think her mentor does either," said Chakotay.
Janeway narrowed her eyes. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly what it sounds like." Chakotay sat down beside her and regarded her intently. "When was the last time the captain of Voyager had some real fun?"
"Just last night," Janeway retorted. "I went to Fair Haven."
Chakotay was grinning. "Oh, yes," he agreed, "for all of fifteen minutes."
Caught, Janeway stalled. "Neelix wanted to see me."
"Neelix's new coffee substitute could have waited until the morning."
"Ah, but then I wouldn't have known it wasn't a success, and I'd be drinking that sludge to wake up instead of this," Janeway countered.
Chakotay hesitated. "Look. You know and I know that we've been going nonstop. The last time we visited a planet was hardly an occasion for R-and-R."
Janeway's stomach clenched at the recollection. On Tarakis, the crew had all been forced to relive memories that were not their own. Janeway vividly recalled pleading with Saavedra not to massacre the colonists, but to no avail. Some nights, she still had dreams about it.
"No," she agreed softly, feeling a vestige of the pain brush past her. "It wasn't."
"Astrometrics to Captain Janeway."
"Go ahead, Seven."
"I suggest that you report to astrometrics immediately. And Commander Chakotay as well."
They exchanged glances, and as one rose and headed for astrometrics.
Seven's beautiful visage was unreadable. It usually was, but the request didn't bode well. "What have you got for me, Seven?" asked Janeway.
Quickly the former Borg stepped to her station and deftly manipulated the controls. A star chart appeared on the large screen.
"This," she said. It was all she needed to say.
Janeway's heart, which had lifted a little after the banter she'd exchanged with Chakotay, sank again. She was looking at a star chart that might have been drawn by an artist with an overactive imagination and a bent for the depressing. There wasn't a single asteroid belt, but a whopping four of them. Over there -- and, now that she looked closer, over there and there too -- was evidence of a singularity. A swirl marked the site of what she was afraid was the event horizon of a black hole. There were two red giants. Ripples indicated the presence nearly everywhere of gravity waves.
"I do hope you're not going to tell me that we have to travel through there," Janeway said.
"Unfortunately, the path we need to take in order to stay on course is this." Seven touched a control, and a jagged red line appeared. It went straight through the worst areas. "We could adjust it like so," Seven continued, and plotted an alternative course. "But that would take three weeks longer."
"And a course to avoid this No Man's Land altogether?"
Seven frowned at the unfamiliar term, but replied, "Seventeen months, six weeks, four days, and nine hours. I explored all the various options before calling you, Captain."
"Efficient," said Janeway dryly.
Seven inclined her blond head. "Thank you. I strive to be."
Slowly, Janeway shook her head as her gaze traveled over the charts. She was not about to add seventeen months to their journey. Even if they took the middle option Seven had outlined, the one that missed the worst of it, they w
