Chapter 3

For a maddening second, Janeway wondered if she really had beamed back aboard her own vessel, or if Q was still playing tricks. She dismissed the thought, smiled briefly at Ensign Campbell, and headed straight for the bridge. She felt an odd sense of urgency. Now that she knew positive action was indeed to be taken—provided Q held to his end of the bargain—she was impatient to proceed.

Chakotay looked up when she entered, and she could tell that he was burning with curiosity. He’d just have to deal with it.

“Harry, open a channel.”

“Ready, Captain.”

Settling into her chair, Janeway couldn’t keep the pleasure out of her voice as she spoke. “This is Captain Kathryn Janeway. All of us were prepared to stay here and make this place our new home. But I am very pleased to report that this is now not the only choice I can offer you. Although all the gateways through which you traversed have now closed, if all goes according to plan, every one of you now has the option of returning home.”

Chakotay stared at her, and in the depths of his dark eyes, she saw the question: Us, too?

Smiling sadly, she shook her head and continued, absorbing the disappointment as yet another burden that she had to bear in order to do what she knew, deep in her bones, to be the truly right thing.

“How that will be accomplished is….”

Her voice trailed off. Her eyes widened as there on the screen, a huge, blazing ball of fire manifested in all its crimson and orange glory. She closed her eyes, then opened him. How Q loved the melodramatic flair. As she watched, the ball seemed to explode. Bright light assaulted her eyes for a moment. When she could see again, there was not one ball of fire, but several—one for each lost ship, save her own. The balls meandered off, each to take its position in front of the different ships.

Trying to keep from laughing, Janeway said, “These…. balls of flames will guide you home. You may trust them.”

“Captain, we’re being hailed,” said Kim. “It’s Ellia.”

“Put her on.”

Ellia looked annoyed. “Captain, it’s all very well and good for you to tell us that these fiery balls are going to take us home, but how can we be—” She was looking at her controls as she spoke and froze.

“Ellia?” For a long moment, the alien captain did not respond. When she did, it was with a smile.

“Well,” she said, “you amaze me. The, er, ball seems to have just downloaded information into our computers that, shall we say, gives me reason to believe that whoever is behind it will indeed take us home. I don’t know what you did, but I thank you. Farewell.” Then she was gone.

“Another hail, Captain.”

“On screen.”

The image of Sook filled the viewscreen. He looked calmer and a good deal happier than when she had last seen him, when he had just managed to take control of the Relka and Sinimar Arkathi had escaped to who knew where. “Captain Janeway. It’s good to see you again.”

“And you, Sook. Should I address you as Commander now?” Janeway asked.

Sook fidgeted. “I suppose so, since I am now the commander. Thank you for your help, both with Arkathi and now somehow managing to find us a way home. I don’t know how, but we’ve just received information that—”

“Makes you trust the fiery ball,” smiled Janeway. “You’re welcome. What have you done with the V’enah we returned to you? It was our understanding that you would welcome them.” Young Sook was positively grinning now. From offscreen, Janeway heard a familiar voice answer in his stead.

“So he has, Captain.”

Sook widened the image and Janeway now saw that Marisha was seated beside him. The former slave’s injuries had been completely healed. She now wore a formfitting jumpsuit that was similar in style to that worn by the Voyager crew, but was silver and gold in color. She looked relaxed, calm, in control. When her eyes met Janeway’s, Marisha smiled widely. She and Sook exchanged an amused glance.

“Hello, Captain Janeway.”

“Marisha. I see you’re a man of your word, Commander Sook. Am I to understand that Marisha is now your second-in-command?”

“She is,” said Sook. “I could think of no better way to show that I am determined to facilitate equality among both races. She has a lot of learning to do, but as you know, she’s more than capable.”

Janeway turned her attention to Marisha. “How are your crewmates doing?”

“We are all doing well, thank you.” Marisha hesitated. “We are so grateful for all you have done for us—for all of us, Todanians and V’enah alike. All suffered under Arkathi, and now, we are all free. I am so pleased that you have been able to find the others a way home.”

“The others? You’re not going?”

Marisha shook her close-cropped head. “No.”

Slightly worried, Janeway asked, “Is this your decision alone?”

“I know what you are thinking, and no, this is something that we all agreed on.”

“You have seen perhaps the worst of our people in Arkathi,” said Sook. “But that does not mean that he was the only one of his kind. Back in our home sector, it would be impossible for V’enah and Todanians to interact as we are doing here, on the Relka. We are a small number, Captain. Here, we can act as individuals. But millions of Todanians still own millions of V’enah, and we cannot liberate them on our own.”

Disappointment knifed through Janeway. She had hoped that the reconciled, integrated crew of the Relka could take their lesson back to their worlds. “But Sook, that’s how it always starts,” she said softly. “One person with a vision.”

Marisha glanced down for a moment. When she looked up again, tears sparkled in her purple eyes.

“You speak truth, Captain Janeway. But what I am about to say is true, too. We have fought our battles, we V’enah and Todanians. We have made peace amongst ourselves. We do not wish to lose that precious beginning, have it trod underneath the careless, brutal feet of those who would espouse the way things have always been. Rest assured, Captain, if I and Sook can come to the conclusion that we have reached, others will, too. For now, though, I am weary of fighting. I want to explore this thing called freedom, to walk on soft….grass?”

She turned to Sook, seeking confirmation of the word. He nodded, smiling.

“To walk on soft grass, and see the open sky. I want that for everyone here, and if we settle on this planet, we can have that. We can form a new society, one in which the old designations have no meaning. We will not be V’enah or Todanians first of all—we will simply be people. And….we will not be alone.”

To Janeway’s utter amazement, her bridge was visited a second time by Leader. She felt its thoughts in her head again, and knew that the rest of her bridge crew did as well.

Captain. We will also decline your gracious offer of a way home. This voyage has been a remarkable one for myself and my crew. We have been moved by what we have witnessed here. We have found, some of us to our utmost surprise, that we enjoy interacting with other species. At least on a limited basis. We have a great deal to offer these people, and they have chosen to accept our help.

“What happens when you decide you need a break from them?” asked Chakotay.

Leader turned to “address” him. It is a large sector, and we have the technology to retreat when we need to. We will have the ability to leave and return as we see fit. But we are committed to being there for the settlers to assist them, when they ask for it.

Janeway could hardly believe what she was hearing. “One thing Ihad hoped for when we started on this strange journey was that feuding species would put aside their differences and learn to work together. I could not have imagined such a harmonious outcome. In the words of the sailors of old on my planet, I wish you godspeed.”

And to you, Captain. I am sorry that you won’t be returning home yourself.

Janeway wondered how Leader could have known that, then relaxed. It was hard to keep anything from a telepath. More than likely, Leader also knew about Q, and was choosing to respect her silence.

“We’ll get home, one day,” she reassured it.

He nodded, bowed, and then his image slowly faded.

“Captain,” said Marisha, “there is one to whom I would like to say a personal good-bye, if I may.”

Janeway knew who that someone was. “Of course. You may transport over here at once.”

Unexpectedly, Marisha shook her head. “No. Thank you. I would simply like to speak to her.”

“Harry, route Marisha to Astrometrics.” She turned to face the screen. “Best of luck with this brave new world you’re creating, Marisha. No one deserves peace more than you and your crew.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Hello, Seven.”

The unexpected voice startled Seven. She turned to see Marisha on the small viewscreen. She didn’t know what to say.

“Marisha,” she replied at length.

“I’ve just finished talking with your captain.” Marisha told Seven of the decision to stay on the planet. Seven agreed with the logic of the decision, but was surprised to hear that the Ones Who Will Not Be Named had also offered to stay and assist them. When Marisha had finished, she hesitated. “Seven, I wanted to thank you.”

Seven frowned. “I did very little.”

“That’s not true. It was one thing to hear whispers of an uprising, a promise of freedom, from me. The V’enah were used to that. It was quite another thing for them to meet a member of another species who agreed with me. Who could see clearly the injustice being done, without having her vision being clouded.” Seven thought about it. “I do see your point. I am gratified that I was able to be of assistance. Was there anything else you wanted?”

Even as she spoke the words, hearing them cold, crisp, and precise in her own ears, she wished she dared speak what she really felt. She wanted to thank Marisha too, for the gift the V’enah woman had given her. It had felt good to be passionate about something, to want to fight for a cause that was so obviously the right one. The sensation Seven felt inside was an exquisite, heady one. She understood now why revolutionaries were so often willing to give their lives for what they believed in. Somehow, the cost seemed infinitesimal compared to what was at stake.

She was glad Marisha had not had to perform such drastic action, however. She longed to say how much Marisha had meant to her, even though they had known one another for such a brief time. Her mind went back to the first time they had met, when Marisha had tossed aside the posture of a submissive slave like an old coat, lifting her head and meeting Seven’s gaze with a fire Seven had never before encountered but to which she responded immediately. Something had ripped through Seven at that moment, and she would never be the same. Seven of Nine felt again that sensation of righteous anger sweeping through her like a tide, tempered now by the knowledge that that goal, that dream of freedom, had been achieved.

How quickly Marisha had learned. She was intelligent and compassionate. She and the enlightened Sook would make a fine leader of this blended group of adventurers.

Marisha searched her gaze, seemed about to speak, then merely shook her head.

“No, I suppose there isn’t. Good-bye, Seven.” She extended a slender hand to terminate the conversation.

“Wait,” Seven said, urgency flooding her voice. Marisha glanced up sharply. “Marisha….it is not logical, but it is true….I feel a connection with you.”

Her face softened. “I feel it too, Seven. As if we were somehow kin, though that cannot be possible.”

“There is a kinship that transcends blood,” said Seven, knowing deep in her heart that the words were true. “We have that kinship. The common bond of an unjust imprisonment and a painful liberation.” “I wish you could come with us,” Marisha blurted. For the briefest instant, Seven considered it. She knew Janeway would let her go, if Seven truly felt this was where she wanted to be. But she could not leave Voyager. She belonged here now. It was home.

“I cannot,” she said, regretfully. “Nor can you come with us.”

Sadly, Marisha shook her dark head. “We need to plant our feet somewhere solid. Most of the V’enah have never seen the sky, or walked on soil. Including me. I want that, Seven. I can’t tell you how much.”

“You don’t have to,” said Seven. She could see it in the other woman’s eyes. “I wish you good luck,” she said more formally, standing straight. Withdrawing the connection.

“Thank you. And you as well. I hope you find your home soon, as we have found ours. Good-bye, Seven. Sister.”

Then Seven was looking at a blank screen. She was glad that Marisha had terminated the conversation, because she did not want the other woman to see the tears that suddenly, unexpectedly, welled in Seven of Nine’s blue eyes.