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Chapter Text

Destiny

("Icheb 2") by jamelia 116

Star Date 54198.2

"Isn't the sea beautiful, today, Mezoti? Let's play Kadis-kot on the beach." Pink and yellow shells and shiny black pebbles. "We should replicate these. We don't want them to disappear when we walk through the arch!" Naomi is laughing. Mezoti smiles at her. Friends forever.

Seven calls out, "Time to regenerate."

"I'm ready. See, I've already cleaned up the Durotta game." Icheb holds out his hand, helps her up the platform steps.

Naomi is sitting on the edge of the platform, combing her red hair. "We have to get ready for the wedding, Mezoti. It's going to start any minute now. Get into your party outfit. We don't want to be late. Everyone will talk. It's a small ship."

There's the captain, talking to Tom and B'Elanna. They're dressed in their dress uniforms. "Nothing fancy," Icheb said; he approves. Everyone is smiling: the captain. Harry. Commander Chakotay. The Doctor is snapping away with his holoimager again. "Say cheese, everyone."

The Ambassador is there, too. He smiles at her. His grin is evil. She doesn't like it. She walks up to him. "I'm Norcadi, and they don't want me."

Skipping around Tom and B'Elanna in the mess hall with Naomi. They're all dressed up. "You're my best friend, Mezoti."

"Of course we're best friends. I'm your only friend who's a girl." Giggling, from both of them.  Aimee is too little to be a best friend yet.

"Mezoti! Time to come home to regenerate." Seven's voice echoes in their cargo bay. The walls and ceilings are so far away, even with all the boxes in the way.

"Is it time?" Standing in her alcove dressed in her wedding party outfit. Such a happy day. Happyhappyhappy . . . happy?" But where is Icheb?

"Icheb! Seven! Where are you? I can't find you . . . "

:::Regeneration cycle is complete.:::

"No, not yet. It's not time yet." Mezoti mumbles. Her eyes open. The room is small and dark. Too small to be Borg Central. It's never completely dark in there. The regeneration alcoves spark green waves of power all the time -- except when the Haunt was released. When Neelix told them that story. Where is she now? She's here, on Wysanti. Not Voyager. Never again on Voyager. Never again in Cargo Bay Two. Borg Central.

Mezoti stepped out of her portable regeneration unit. Arebi had fastened it to one wall in her room when she arrived, so she would feel more comfortable in their home. Mazani's home. Arebi's home. Azan and Rebi's home. Now Mezoti's home. That's what he'd told her. This was her home now.

Why didn't she feel at home here?

She sighed. She was totally awake now. Her regeneration cycle was over. The computer voice had announced it, and she could feel the power rushing through what remained of her implants and her cortical array. Her room was so dark; it must still be night. She could lie on the bed in her room and rest until morning, like non-Borg people did, but she didn't want to. She must have rested that way in the past, but even after all this time, she still could not recall what her life had been like before she woke up on the cube with Second, Three and Four of Six, and Six of Six.

And First. She shouldn't forget him, even if he hadn't been strong enough or wise enough to know when Seven was telling him the truth about the Collective. The Collective didn't want them. The Queen had ordered them to terminate themselves, in a message they had been unable to read because they hadn't become fully Borg, and they didn't know Borg alphanumerics well enough to understand it. So they didn't terminate themselves. First had terminated himself, in a way by, refusing to listen to Seven's advice. He fought against accepting reality, not because he was obeying the Queen. To the end, he thought she would send someone to help them, but she didn't. He fought. He lost. He died.

The rest of them lived on because they'd believed Seven. They left the Children's Collective and their dying cube to join the Voyager Collective. They'd learned to live as individuals, even if regeneration still was easier if they stood up while doing it. That's the Borg way. Even though they're all individuals now, they still have that little bit of Borg in them and need to regenerate on a daily basis. Mezoti didn't need to spend as much time regenerating as Azan and Rebi. They'd been in their maturation chambers longer, so they needed more power to get them through each day.

But Mezoti, born of the Norcadi people and living now with the Wysanti, no longer was so much of a Borg that she needed to regenerate long. She often woke up early like this, after dream images made her remember that other place where she could still be living, if she'd chosen to stay there instead of coming here.

In the darkest hours of the night, she always thought about that choice. She'd made it, so she was here. It was too late to undo it, to choose again. Perhaps in time she would understand why she'd thought coming to Wysanti with Azan and Rebi would be better than staying on Voyager with Seven and Icheb.

When she woke up in the middle of the night, that was hard for her to do.

She stepped out of her alcove, through the doorway of her room, and down the corridor. The house was as silent as it always was in the middle of the night. No one else was awake. She wasn't a little baby like Aimee Gilmore. She could take care of herself in most ways now, even if she was only going to be nine years old in a few weeks. After regeneration, she often needed biological nutrition, too. Mezoti went into the kitchen and prepared a shake for herself in the family replicator. Nutritional Supplement Number Five, with chocolate sprinkles and whipped cream. Her favorite. And Seven's.

As she sipped her shake, she closed her eyes and pretended she was sitting at a table in the mess hall on Voyager. Tonight, she was sitting in front of the transparent aluminum windows. If she concentrated very hard, she could see the stars and nebulae streaming by the ship as it moved through the Delta Quadrant, headed towards the Federation's central world, Earth. She heard Naomi, Icheb, and Seven chatting over events of the day. At times like these, Mezoti always remembered the good things, like visiting the holodeck and going to Fair Haven or for a visit with Trevis and Flotter. She'd remember the aftermath of the play, when the entire "company" went to the mess hall to celebrate --even little Aimee in her miniature Lieutenant Torres uniform. She'd remember Neelix buzzing in the background, calling out to them and asking if they were sure they had enough snacks. "You've got to keep up your strength," he used to say. She missed Neelix fussing over them. She missed everything about Voyager.

The dangers of being on a ship no longer seemed so overwhelming. Maybe that was because Mazani and Arebi kept her safe here, but she didn't think it was the whole reason. "I let my fears overwhelm me. Me, Mezoti the Fearless. I let myself be talked into doing what the captain thought was the 'right thing' by Captain Janeway herself -- which was really the 'safe thing' -- instead of following my destiny and doing the 'brave thing.' I should have trusted in the captain, and Seven, and all the crew of Voyager to keep me safe." Mezoti understood things much better now. While life on a ship can be dangerous, regrets over a mistaken choice might last longer, maybe throughout an entire life. Which is more dangerous? To worry about what will happen on a ship flying through space, or to live with those who know nothing of what a Norcadi child who once had been Borg had experienced in her life -- and cared less? How did the danger from traveling through the stars compare to feelings of isolation and loneliness, in what was allegedly her own home?

When she'd finished her shake with chocolate sprinkles and whipped cream, she opened her eyes. The kitchen was dark. She hadn't needed to put on a light to make her middle of the night snack. She could do it automatically, as if she were still a drone who could do things because it had been programmed into her.

She liked this kitchen. It was a very nice room. This was a very nice house. She was living with very nice people -- well, the adults in the house were nice, anyway. Azan and Rebi were simply Azan and Rebi, her accidental brothers who cared for each other, but still didn't relate to other people very much, even to their biological grandparents. The twins didn't include her when they participated in their activities, in the way she understood brothers often did. The way Icheb always did.

When she still hadn't stopped crying several days after Voyager left orbit, Mazani and Arebi brought her to their physician. Voyager's EMH had sent her records and instructions on how to treat patients who were or had been Borg. The physician identified one part, the emotional inhibitor chip, which had not formed completely in Mezoti. It was "misfiring," she said, and she removed it. The Doctor recommended that should be done with any implant which was not working properly, as long as removing it didn't compromise overall functioning. Her cortical node was otherwise intact; Mezoti could still overhear the twins when they spoke subvocally to each other, thinking no one else could hear them. When they were up to mischief, they never seemed to understand why Arebi and Mazani caught them at it almost every time. How smart were they, if they couldn't figure out Mezoti was the one who told the grandparents what Azan and Rebi were planning? Hadn't she tattled on them to Seven often enough on Voyager? Really!

She couldn't say she felt much different than she did on Voyager when it came to feelings, but maybe that problem chip made the bad sensations worse. Two tears fell down her cheeks, one from each eye. "One for Seven, and one for Icheb. I was afraid I was making a mistake by the time I was leaving the ship, but I was too afraid to disappoint Mazani and Arebi. I didn't want to change my mind at the last minute, after I told them I'd come to them. I thought I would adapt. Now I'll be sorry I wasn't brave enough to admit I was wrong for the rest of my life."

A little light shone through the kitchen window now. Soon it would be morning. Mezoti placed her glass in the recycler before going to the doorway and looking out back, to the woods behind the house. Darkness was giving way to the outlines of tree trunks and branches, heavy with fresh new leaves. A few birds began to chirp hesitantly, as if they weren't sure it was quite time to sing yet. Soon a whole chorus would greet the dawn in joyful song. The misty air carried the odors of soil and springtime vegetation to her knife blade of a nose. In moments like this, Mezoti recognized this was a beautiful place to live.

So why did she wish she could smell a whiff of machine lubricant in that air, along with a hint of the ozone that always wafted out of the big regeneration units on the platform, barely perceptible to most noses, but not to hers? She missed feeling the faint vibration of the life support and propulsion systems beneath her feet.

As lovely as early morning on Wysanti could be, Mezoti would rather be looking out at stacks of empty storage boxes and containers filled with raw materials away teams brought into the ship, which would be fabricated into useful items without needing to use much of the power Voyager's crew always had to conserve, and towards the crates on the opposite wall containing the non-perishable foods Neelix always liked to store in his "supplemental pantry" in Cargo Bay Two.

Borg Central.

Home.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Personal Log, Cadet Icheb, Academy Distant Learner Program, First Year, Stardate 54212.7

The past couple of weeks have been very strange on Voyager. Sometimes it's been too exciting. It was bad enough we had to retrieve the Doctor from that Dinaali hospital, after he was abducted by the Dralian trader Gar. We found out our EMH had been stolen because of the injury on the holodeck to Ensign Kim. When Tom took Harry to Sickbay, Tom realized something wasn't right. Since Tom works with him all the time, he knows the Doctor better than anyone, except, perhaps for Seven and Lieutenant Torres. The replacement Doctor Gar replicated for us when he stole the real EMH was incompetent! We were lucky we got our Doctor back when we did because of the next series of strange events.

A holographic Lieutenant Reginald Barclay was transmitted to Voyager from the Pathfinder Project. The crew wasn't too happy at first. No one had received any messages from their families in the Alpha Quadrant in this datastream. Because his program was so large, there wasn't room for any other communications. What made it worse was that no datastream transmission arrived at all last month. I hope we can find out what went wrong with "Reg," because I can't believe he was a true copy of the officer the Doctor met when he was sent to the Alpha Quadrant to treat Dr. Lewis Zimmerman, his creator. I spoke with the Doctor this morning. He held many conversations with Mr. Barclay about the entire crew, including me.  "Reg" seemed to have no idea about who I was. I thought that was, well, very strange. 

I was a little upset when Mr. Barclay didn't recognize me. I was even more upset when I saw that the Barclay hologram monopolized the Doctor's mobile emitter. The EMH was caged in Sickbay while "Reg" could visit with everyone in the mess hall, telling jokes and entertaining them with his impressions of the crew. Tom calls it "schmoozing." He was very humorous. His impressions of people's voices, especially the captain's, were almost perfect. But for someone who was sent to us to upgrade our systems so we could fly Voyager through a red giant star, to get home to the Alpha Quadrant much sooner than anyone could expect, he wasn't very cooperative. Whenever we noticed flaws in his scientific explanations and tried to correct his errors, he ignored us.

The Doctor pointed out possible omissions from the anti-radiation inoculations "Reg" said would keep us safe. Since I've had the opportunity to gain more knowledge of shield theory through my Academy classes with Tuvok, I had concerns, as well. I didn't see how the changes he proposed to our shielding would protect us from every type of dangerous radiation escaping from the red giant. He always said the inoculations and the shielding would "work together," but I couldn't see how two imperfect protective measures could do that efficiently.

Then the holographic "Reg" stole an escape pod, kidnapped Seven, and tried to take her through the geodesic fold inside the red giant without any additional protective shielding at all! We retrieved Seven just in time, or the radiation would have killed her.

When I spoke with Seven after she was rescued from the Barclay hologram, I confessed, "I should have said something to Lieutenant Torres. My calculations indicated the shielding would be insufficient protection."

"Icheb, she noticed the same thing you did and expressed those concerns. So did I, but the Barclay hologram always had an answer for us whenever we questioned the efficacy of his recommendations. Kidnapping me is something the real Lieutenant Barclay would never do. The Doctor met the man in person. He's certain Barclay wouldn't act that way. A hologram shouldn't be able to do what the person on whom he's based wouldn't do. I don't know what went wrong, but something did."

I've been thinking about this a great deal. Maybe some of Mr. Barclay's memories had to be deleted for him to be sent via datastream, and it altered his ethical subroutines. It may not be wise to send a hologram of a living human person through the datastream and expect it to actually act like it was that person. The data required may be too complicated to fit into the datastream -- although our EMH went twice, first through the Hirogen Array, and then the datastream to treat his creator for a serious illness. And his program is very complicated.

It's uncomfortable for anyone who has been Borg to admit to uncertainty. It's too much like imperfection. I hope Starfleet we'll tell us about what happened in the next datastream.

=/\=

Before Seven boarded the Delta Flyer II to join Harry Kim and the Doctor on an away mission, she'd said to Lieutenant Paris, "While I'm away, please watch over Icheb for me."

"I thought it was pretty amazing. Seven actually said 'please,' Icheb. I think she really likes you!" Tom told Icheb, several days after the mission began.

It was pretty amazing. It made Icheb feel wonderful. Maybe he should have resented being treated like a little kid by Seven, but he didn't. It was a good feeling to have someone looking out for his safety. "She cares about me, Lieutenant."

"That she does, Cadet. I'm happy for you." Tom's smile was bright, not to mention catching. Icheb was conscious of a silly smile on his face, too.

"How is Commander Tuvok doing? He scheduled me for a rigorous physical training exercise this afternoon, but he cancelled it. He said he wasn't feeling well."

"Just a touch of Tarkalean Flu. He'll come around in a few days. I've restricted him to his own quarters for the duration."

"Shouldn't he be in Sickbay?"

"Tarkalean Flu is very contagious. I'd rather keep him in his quarters and treat him there, where no one else can be exposed. He's more comfortable in there, too. He has everything he needs to meditate. A meditative Tuvok is a calm Tuvok. And a calm Tuvok will recover more quickly than a . . . non-calm Tuvok." Tom grimaced slightly, and Icheb realized he hadn't really meant that pun. Tuvok wasn't a non-com, he was the second officer on Voyager.

"When you see him next, if he's still incapacitated, could you ask him if there's any particular subject he wants me to research during my independent study time?"

"The next time I check on him I'll make asking him about that a priority, Icheb."

Icheb went to Cargo Bay Two and looked up some physical training exercises to do on his own. Once he'd completed a full set of isometric and weight-bearing exercises, he ran through the ship's corridors, working on cardiovascular conditioning. Even a former Borg with enhanced systems benefited from rigorous activity. Icheb enjoyed running, since his mind often wandered into unexpected trains of thought while on a run.

It wasn't until his third circuit of the bottom six decks of the ship that Icheb realized no one on the ship had contracted Tarkalean Flu since he'd arrived on Voyager. The incubation period for the illness is less than a month. How was the Vulcan tactical officer exposed to the virus?

=/\=

Since Tuvok was still "under the weather," as Tom put it, Icheb took advantage of his absence by standing near Lieutenant Ayala for part of Alpha shift. Icheb had already noticed that crew members handled certain aspects of the Tactical/Security details a little differently. While the basic protocols were the same for all, one officer would survey images from around the ship one way, while another officer would view them in a different order, or might magnify some locations in order to check out certain details more closely. Still another might check out particular corridors more frequently than others. Tom called this difference in operation, based upon an individual's choice, an officer's "style." This fascinated Icheb, since it was diametrically opposed to the way Borg drones functioned.

Mr. Ayala, Icheb noticed, always kept very close tabs on the engineering decks. He sometimes anticipated Lieutenant Torres would be contacting the officer in command about an issue before she had a chance to call for help, just by observing her staff behaving in an unusual manner. Tom had pointed out to Icheb that a lot of the Maquis members of the crew did this habitually, since they'd been trained by necessity to cover each other's "six." (Tom explained that this meant covering each other's backside.)

After Icheb had observed Mr. Ayala for a while, he noticed something peculiar. According to away team protocols, the Delta Flyer II should have checked in with Voyager over an hour ago. This wasn't really that unusual, since a shuttle's crew sometimes had to complete some task or other before getting the chance to call in. This time it was, however, because the Flyer was supposed to be meeting Voyager later today. Ayala had instituted a sensor sweep of the area where they were expected to meet. Icheb couldn't see any sign of the shuttle from where he stood. Had the Flyer encountered a problem?

Icheb glanced up at Ayala. The taciturn Tactical officer nodded his head slightly at him and looked towards the command chair, which Commander Chakotay currently occupied. "Commander, there's no sign of the Delta Flyer anywhere near the rendezvous point."

"Acknowledged," Chakotay responded. "Ensign Lang, still no communication signal from the Flyer?"

"No, sir. I've sent out five messages to them in the past hour. Still no response."

"Alert the captain, Ensign Lang. Institute a search."

That was Icheb's cue to stop observing on the bridge. With Seven away, Icheb had to go to Astrometrics, to take part in the search for the missing Delta Flyer. His soon-to-be mother was on that shuttle. He needed to find her.

=/\=

Icheb slipped out of Astrometrics briefly for the ingestion of nutrients. He felt the need for something more substantial than a Nutritional Supplement alone. Since their resident chef  Neelix had prepared a large batch of banana pancakes for Lieutenant Torres, Icheb accepted his offer to consume the extras.

The chief engineer was sitting by the window, scarfing down her own stack. When Icheb approached her table, Lieutenant Torres, who was still chewing, wordlessly indicated he should join her. Once he'd taken his seat and sampled the pancakes, the lieutenant said, "How are you doing, Icheb? Don't worry, we'll find Seven soon. I have a feeling the away team will have quite a story to tell when they get back. Harry, Seven, the Doctor. That's quite a crew. No telling what those three will get up to!"

"The Doctor will be the one talking the most."

"I'm sure you're right, Icheb. How do you like the pancakes? They're a favorite dish I remember from my childhood. My abuela -- my grandmother -- made them for me whenever I visited her on Earth."

"They're delicious. They don't taste much like Neelix's Talaxian flatcakes."

She laughed. "That's because he replicated the bananas, the milk, the eggs, the pancake mix, and the syrup. He enjoys cooking 'flapjacks,' but when I let him try making some from scratch once, they weren't exactly a 'taste of home.'"

"He added Talaxian spices to them?"

"You got it! Lots and lots of spices. You're really getting the hang of this place, Icheb."

She mopped up the final bits of her pancakes in the syrup. When she leaned back to sip the last of her coffee, Icheb recognized the signs of a chief engineer who was about to run back down to Engineering.

"Lieutenant, before you go, I'd like to ask you a question. Why is Tom being so secretive about Tuvok's Tarkalean flu? I didn't think it took such a long time to recover from that illness."

Lieutenant Torres apparently gulped a mouthful of her coffee a little too quickly. She made choking sounds as she swallowed the liquid. "Why do you ask?" she said, when she was able to communicate.

"I just wondered. I asked Tom about it yesterday. He told me Vulcans sometimes exhibit more extreme symptoms and require longer to recover. I looked up the entry on Tarkalean Flu in the database. It didn't say anything about that. When I mentioned this to Tom yesterday afternoon, he said meditation was sometimes more helpful than medications for a Vulcan who's severely ill. I couldn't find out anything about that in the database when I went back to it last night, either. I don't understand."

"Ah, the Doctor has his secrets, and when Tom is being the Doctor's nurse, he does, too. You know the Doctor has a separate database we non-medical people can't access. It contains information about synthesizing medicines for specific conditions -- things like that. It's one of the subroutines I evaluate when I do maintenance checkups of his program. That's probably why you didn't find any mention of it in the main database. Tom told me he was setting up a hologram program to help Tuvok meditate. I'm sure that'll help him heal more quickly. You know what they say, 'mind over matter.' I really need to get down to Engineering now. Bye."

With that, she hurried off. She'd spoken so quickly, he'd had to concentrate very closely to hear what she said, but he still didn't understand all of it. Lieutenant Torres didn't seem to want to talk about the subject with him. That made Icheb even more curious about what was going on with Tuvok. He didn't think the big secret had anything to do with restricted medical databases. "I'm missing something," Icheb murmured to himself.

When he returned to Astrometrics, he checked over the search pattern he'd instituted for the Delta Flyer II. There was still no evidence of the missing shuttle. For the moment, there wasn't much more he could do to hurry the search along. He went to an adjacent console and looked up the entry about the Tarkalean flu again. Maybe he'd read it too quickly and skipped the reference about Vulcans with the condition. He read the entry again very carefully, but Icheb still couldn't see anything about using meditation to aid the recovery of a Vulcan suffering from a severe case of the illness.

Perhaps he was going about this the wrong way. He decided to change the parameters of his search to: Vulcans, meditation, illness. A response popped up almost immediately.

Once Icheb had finished reading the entry on the pon farr, he knew he didn't need to ask any more questions about Tuvok's current problem. To confirm his suspicion, he accessed (actually hacked into) Tuvok's service record. The date of Tuvok's last "vacation" visit to Vulcan, approved only days before his arrival, occurred seven years, two months, and three days ago, after his captain ordered a sudden diversion of their ship to Vulcan.

Since Tom and B'Elanna's wedding, Icheb's studies of the database concerning single-cell sexual reproduction had become rather intensive. He'd learned enough by now to know this subject was just as sensitive to the crew as Seven had indicated it was the first time he asked her about it, shortly after he came on board Voyager. Icheb decided it was time to drop his inquiry into Tuvok's illness and concentrate on finding the Delta Flyer instead.

=/\=

Personal Log, Cadet Icheb, Star Date: 54242.5

A Lokirrim patrol ship attacked Voyager with an anti-photonic weapon earlier today. The captain ordered the holodecks shut down. Commander Tuvok was in Holodeck Two at the time, participating in the program Lieutenant Paris had developed to provide exercises in meditation which were meant to alleviate his current . . . medical condition. As a result, the commander's medical status continues to be problematic. The captain of the patrol ship wished to investigate Voyager for signs of photonic activity. The captain refused to allow it. She has, however, agreed to allow the Lokirrim patrol ship to accompany Voyager through their territory.

We are continuing to search for the Delta Flyer II and our missing away team. While I am confident Seven, Ensign Kim, and the Doctor can manage most situations they encounter, I am concerned that we haven't been able to identify the course the Flyer took through Lokirrim space. No trace of their ion trail or warp signature has been identified, even though Commander Tuvok left his . . . sickbed . . . to join the search. If Mr. Paris's diagnosis of Tarkalean Flu had been accurate, everyone on the bridge would have been exposed to the virus by now and at risk of contracting the disease. No one has openly questioned Mr. Paris's diagnosis as far as I know, but no one has expressed any alarm at Commander Tuvok's presence on the bridge, either. From this evidence, I believe that although Commander Tuvok was invested in keeping his current condition a secret from the crew, everyone is aware of it.

I now understand why Lieutenant Torres left the mess hall so abruptly when I asked her about Vulcans using meditation to cure a severe case of Tarkalean Flu. About three years ago, one of her engineers, Ensign Vorik, apparently suffered from the same condition. I have been unable to uncover all of the details. Neelix refused to say anything about it, other than that he was part of an away mission which "encountered a lot of problems" thanks to Vorik. Lieutenant Torres and Lieutenant Paris were also team members on that mission. When I tried to speak to Tom about it, he remembered he had to do something so urgently, he could not speak with me any longer. When I said I would ask his wife about it, he became agitated and yelled to me, "No, Icheb! Never, ever mention that mission to B'Elanna! We NEVER talk about it." When he calmed down, he explained, "The mission created a major disruption in Engineering."

From Tom's reaction, I have no doubt that it did.

Seven has often stated that the most difficult aspect of adapting to individuality involves understanding the motives of our fellow crew members. They can become extremely emotional over incidents which appear trivial. Commander Tuvok's situation isn't trivial -- especially to him -- but I've observed that people can get very "touchy" about interpersonal relationships. I will try to keep Seven's advice to "stay out of it" whenever I encounter this type of reaction.

=/\=

Personal Log Addendum

Voyager received a message from the Delta Flyer. It was tractored inside a different Lokirrim patrol ship. Seven, the Doctor, and Harry Kim are prisoners. Since the Lokirrim took our away team prisoner, we are no longer cooperating with them. The captain ordered Voyager to fire on the ship accompanying us, damaging its power matrix, which permitted Voyager to escape. Because of an insurrection by Lokirrim photonics in this region, anyone in possession of holograms is accused of harboring insurgents; this is the Lokirrim's rationale for taking our away team into custody. Mr. Paris informed me that Seven and Ensign Kim are fine, but he didn't  provide me with any news about the status of our EMH. As soon as Voyager has retrieved the away team and the Delta Flyer, we will depart this area of space at maximum warp. Once we aren't traveling through Lokirrim space any longer, we hope to avoid any further complications from the photonic's insurgency.

=/\=

In his reading, Icheb had come upon one term for an angry reaction that he didn't understand until he asked Tom about what it meant. When Seven arrived back on Voyager, he realized he now knew exactly what the term "spitting bullets" looked like. Her anger at the Doctor for "abusing her body" with Captain Ranek and the Lokirrim acting medic Jaryn was intense.

"Why is she so angry? By hiding the EMH in her Borg circuitry, she was able to keep him from being destroyed by the Lokirrim," Icheb asked Harry, when he had a chance to visit with him in the mess hall, once Voyager was safely out of the hologram-hating aliens' territory. "I don't understand why protecting him like that was such a problem for her."

"Hiding wasn't the problem, but overindulging in sweets and intoxicating beverages? Flirting with the Lokirrim on board their ship? That's what she's so miffed about!" Harry explained. "Doc finally had a chance to experience all sorts of sensations he'd never had the chance to before, and he really took advantage. Even after she warned him not to, he couldn't help himself. New York cheesecake! Bottles of syntheholic beverages."

Icheb smiled broadly. "Borg implants are incompatible with syntheholic or alcoholic beverages, but I am unaware of any difficulty with the digestion of sugary desserts."

"He consumed an entire cheesecake," Harry laughed.

"I see the difficulty," Icheb noted, laughing out loud, too. "The caloric content in one cheesecake would tend to make one of Seven's outfits fit very tightly."

"They're 'formfitting' enough as it is," Harry said, laughing even harder. Once their mutual state of merriment came under control, Harry observed, "You're much more fun these days, Icheb."

"Without a cortical node, I no longer have an emotional inhibitor chip. I feel all emotions much more strongly now." Pausing briefly, he added nervously, "I didn't say anything inappropriate just now, did I?"

"Nah," Harry replied. "It's great to see you cut loose a little. Most young guys act like that every now and then. It's actually very nice to see, coming from you."

Relieved, Icheb said, "That's good." After a short pause, he added, "Am I correct in thinking I shouldn't ever mention this conversation to Seven . . . or the Doctor?"

"Not in a million years! Forget I ever told you what happened!"

"Is this a conspiracy, Harry?"

"Absolutely!"

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Personal Log entry, Cadet Icheb, Star date 54266.9

Lieutenant Paris told Seven the whole story of the "Reg" hologram and she shared it with me. We were right that something had gone wrong with the transmission from the Pathfinder Project. Lieutenant Barclay did try to send a holographic representation of himself to Voyager, but the transmission failed. That was why the datastream never arrived here that first month. Lieutenant Barclay thought his program was too large, so he reduced it in size and sent it again the following month. That never arrived here, either. The "Reg" who came to us was the original holographic program. It had been stolen and tampered with by Ferengi "businessmen" who planned to steal Seven's nanoprobes and sell them to the "highest bidder."

Starfleet never did have a plan for Voyager to travel through a geodesic fold inside a red giant star. We were right to question "Reg" about how the changes he told us to make could protect us. If we had tried going through the red giant, the ship would probably arrive in the Alpha Quadrant intact but every living thing inside the ship would be dead. The Ferengi plan didn't require any of us to be alive. In fact, it would be easier for them if all of us were dead. They could collect Seven's nanoprobes from her corpse. That's why, after the plan fell apart, "Reg" kidnapped Seven and tried to take her through the star in the escape pod. Perhaps it's a good thing "Reg" didn't realize Aimee and I had nanoprobes just like Seven's in our bodies. He might have tried to kidnap both of us, too.

Lieutenant Barclay helped us out again, but this time Tom Paris's father, Admiral Owen Paris, and an officer from the USS Enterprise named Commander Deanna Troi worked with him. The Doctor met them both when he made his "house call" to Dr. Lewis Zimmerman on Jupiter Station several months ago. When they interrogated an accessory to the crime she revealed enough for Starfleet to figure out the nature of the plot. The real Lieutenant Barclay impersonated his own hologram, sending the Ferengi a warning that Captain Janeway was going to "get them" if they went through with their plan. They tried to run away, but Starfleet officers caught them and placed them under arrest.

So an imitation Lieutenant Barclay was imitated by the real Lieutenant Barclay to save everyone on Voyager from death. I haven't been able to assimilate what all of that means yet. Fortunately, Seven told me she's having trouble understanding it herself.

I'm not clear on why the real Barclay hologram was coming to Voyager in the first place. I heard he has a history of something called holographic program addiction, but maybe he just wanted to have a chance to visit with us. A rumor went around the ship he has a pet feline he's named after Neelix. The first time I heard it I thought it was a joke, but Neelix told me it's true. He has a picture of the cat in his quarters. Lieutenant Barclay sent it to him; Neelix showed it to me. Before the datastream started, Lieutenant Barclay had no idea what a Talaxian would look like, but Neelix thinks the cat does have "a Talaxian look to his whiskers." Neelix doesn't mind having a cat for a "namesake." That's the way Neelix is.

According to Tom, this is the same Lieutenant Barclay who made the technological breakthrough that led to the development of the datastream, which allows Voyager to maintain contact with the Alpha Quadrant. I guess we owe him the chance to visit us even if he can't do it in person yet. I hope I'll get the chance to meet him when we arrive in the Alpha Quadrant, whenever that may be. We still expect it to take years for us to get there.

End personal log entry.

=/\=

Star date 54266.9

Dear Mezoti,

How are you? I hope you're still doing as well as you were a few weeks ago when we spoke over subspace. It was so good to see you again before we were too far away to communicate by subspace. How are Azan and Rebi? I hope they pay attention to you every now and then. I know they like to speak subvocally most of the time with each other. If they do it when they are with their grandparents, that would be very rude. I'm sure you remind them to behave. You were always very good at that.

I have passed my Starfleet Entrance examination with what Tom -- Lieutenant Paris -- says are "flying colors." I think it has something to do with flag flying, but I'm not sure what that has to do with passing tests. Commander Tuvok has set up a schedule of classes for me. If I were on the campus in San Francisco, I would have more classes every day. Since Commander Tuvok has many other duties as head of Security and Tactical, the captain says he cannot afford to tie up too much of his time with me. He's set up additional courses which I can pursue with other crew members or as independent study projects.

My studies with Commander Tuvok include physical training and a course called, "Introduction to Starfleet Policies and Prime Directive Issues." He assigned Lieutenant Paris to train me in piloting and astral navigation on the Delta Flyer II. Seven supervises my course in "Astrometrics and Stellar Cartography," naturally.

I'm also taking an independent study course called "Essential Literature of Federation Worlds" which I really enjoy. Since I will be living in the Alpha Quadrant, I need to learn about people who are not represented in the crew of Voyager. The readings are giving me a better idea about what some of these races are like. Lieutenant Paris set up a few holodeck programs based upon my assignments to allow me to see how they look and view them in action. I think the most interesting species I have studied so far are the Horta, a silicon-based race who are called "natural miners." A few of them have become Starfleet officers. Their literature is filled with references to the taste, smell, and feel of minerals. In some ways the stories are very alien because their lifestyle is so different from that of humanoids. The holodeck Horta Tom programmed for me looks a lot like a giant amoeba made out of rock and metal. They produce acid with their bodies to tunnel through rock and eat silica as food. Then I read a story by one Horta who wants his "future generations," or children, to live long and happy lives. So they seem just like us after all.

While I haven't had any formal courses in fields like engineering, I've just started what Lieutenant Torres calls an "apprenticeship" in her department. Let me tell you how that happened. Lieutenant Torres has been asking (Tom says it was more like begging) Captain Janeway to land Voyager on an uninhabited planet for weeks now. She'd documented several problems with the ship which would be difficult to repair while we traveled in space. A few days ago, the captain found a planet that Lieutenant Torres said was "perfect." I'm not sure the captain is as enthusiastic as our chief engineer now that we're parked down here. While there are quite a few substances available on this planet that can serve as raw materials for our repairs, Lieutenant Torres keeps finding more problems she says we need to fix. We've already stayed on the planet longer than the original estimate of time she told the captain we'd need, and Captain Janeway is impatient to get underway again. Since there's so much to do, almost everyone on Voyager, not just the engineering staff, has been pressed into service. Tom has been scrubbing conduits and wants to get back to flying. He was really upset when the captain assigned Harry to pilot the Delta Flyer on a mission to look for deuterium.

At first I wasn't asked to do anything in Engineering. Commander Tuvok kept me busy doing security reviews. Yesterday morning, I was delivering a tactical report from Commander Tuvok to Lieutenant Torres when the EPS relays shut down power to Engineering. All the lights went out. I recognized the problem from our Borg cube days and took it upon myself to make a repair. I thought the captain and the chief of engineering might become upset with me, since I did this without their permission. Instead, they were glad I "showed initiative." Lieutenant Torres asked the captain to let me continue working with her staff until the repairs to the ship are finished. The captain and Commander Tuvok agreed. The environmental control system really needs work. It's very hot. The captain even made a joke about it, saying it's a shame we can't open the windows for ventilation (which we can't do, of course, since it's a space ship and the windows are sealed).

Seven left on the away mission with Ensign Kim a few days ago. Neelix went with them, but they're not back yet. I hope this one goes better than the mission with Ensign Kim and the Doctor. I think Seven has forgiven the EMH. She sometimes has her dinner in Sickbay and describes what the food tastes like for him to "enjoy vicariously." She says she's doing him a favor, but since he's a hologram and can't eat food, I think she's also getting back at him for taking over her body when he had to hide out from the Lokirrim, who destroy any holograms they meet. She had to restrict her caloric intake for several days after they returned to Voyager because of all the overeating he did when he was in control of her body. Her clothing was too tight until she lost a couple of kilos. (Seven complained about her diet restrictions but wouldn't tell me why she only consumed nutritional supplements for the next week. Ensign Kim told me all about the mission, though, so I already knew the reason.)

This message is already longer than I expected to write. I have to get back to Engineering, but Ensign Lang promised to send the letter to you today. One of the old-style shuttles will be going out of the atmosphere, and she'll be able to bounce the message off the shuttle's communication array so it can get to Wysanti. I don't know how many more messages I will be able to send you after we leave this planet. We're almost out of range of this type of communication, too. I wish the datastream method could be adapted from Voyager to Wysanti. Seven, Lieutenant Torres, and Ensign Kim said they want to work on this, but for now they have no time to spare.

Before I finish, I do have to apologize to you. I wasn't honest about something during our last face-to-face communication. You thought I looked tired from studying too much. I told you I had a medical problem, but I didn't tell you what it was. I'm sad to say that when we meet again in person I will be unable to speak with you subvocally. Seven's cortical node implant began to fail, and I donated mine to her. She's fine, and so am I. My cortical array works just as well as always, but I lost the communication function when I gave her my cortical node. I had to adapt to the loss, but it doesn't bother me anymore. I must speak aloud with everyone else on the ship. I just have to speak aloud with Seven now, too. We never did use subvocal communications very often the way you and I did. So I'm okay. What's important is that she's okay, too.

I'm keeping my own personal log now. If you still keep your diary, we can send each other excerpts once we establish long-range communications again. Naomi told me she would like to exchange some diary entries with you, too, if it becomes possible. I know she misses you very much. We have gone to Fair Haven a few times, and we play Kadis-kot and Durotta, but she tells me it's not the same without you. I know what she means. I miss you, too.

Say hello to Mazani and Arebi, and to the twins, too. Take care of yourself, Mezoti.

Your Borg brother, Icheb

=/\=

Stardate 24272.1

When Mezoti received the messages from Icheb and Naomi she read them over and over. She read his letter out loud after dinner to everyone else, too. Mazani and Arebi told her it was a wonderful letter. The twins didn't have much to say. It was nice that Naomi also sent a letter about what she'd been doing since Mezoti left Voyager. She wished their letters had made her less homesick for Voyager; unfortunately, that wasn't the case. She missed everyone more than ever. If she were still on the ship, she knew Lieutenant Torres would have let her help out in Engineering, too, even if it was just as a "go-fer," like she was during the repairs to the ship after the last Borg attack. Receiving the messages from Icheb and Naomi brought all of those memories back.

She was a little ashamed that her last visual message to Voyager had been more wishful thinking on her part than fact. He said he hadn't been honest about why he looked weak. Now that she knew what had happened to him she felt a little better about his Starfleet Academy studies. She was upset that most of her own communication had been just as dishonest. She had acquaintances at school, but she didn't have any real friends yet.

Sometimes she worked on art projects with Mazani. When Mezoti told her about her clay sculpture of Seven, which she'd left behind on Voyager, Mazani set up a table for her to do more sculpting. Mezoti had just finished another one of Seven's face, which Mazani said was wonderful. It did look more like Seven than the one she'd left on Voyager, but she wanted to do another that was an even better likeness. She also needed to do one of Icheb to keep in her room, to remind her what the missing members of her family looked like.

Mezoti sighed sadly. She enjoyed her walks in the woods with Arebi, especially when they studied their ant colony, but she'd really like to go someplace else for a change. One of the reasons she'd decided to stay on a planet was so she could study insects. Maybe she should ask Arebi if they might go for a hike on a beach and study an ant colony living in that environment. She could pick up more shells to bring home with her -- the kind that wouldn't disappear, the way they did when she left the holodeck. Now she wished she'd replicated more than the three she'd saved from the Fair Haven shore line when she visited it with Naomi. Mezoti placed them in a little case that sat on a shelf in her room. She looked at them every day, remembering the fun she had with Naomi. She wished she could find another friend on Wysanti like Naomi, but so far, no luck.

That night, after dinner, Mezoti asked Arebi about taking a walk on the beach some time.

"Of course we can take a trip to the beach, Mezoti! All you have to do is ask! Mazani, boys, what about going for a picnic at Raveini Shores next week?" The plans were made within minutes, although Azan and Rebi set the actual day. They had to work around the dates their team had games. "So, one week from today, weather permitting, we'll go to Reveini. And if the weather there is bad, there are other beaches we can go to instead. This will be fun for all of us, don't you think?"

That night, as she set up her cubicle to begin her regeneration cycle, Mezoti thought, "Mazani and Arebi really are very nice to me. The only thing they aren't are Voyager people. I need to get over this! I'm here now. I must adapt."

But resolving to adapt and actually doing it are not the same thing, as Mezoti knew well. "I just have to remember to be brave again."

As she settled back into regeneration mode, Mezoti silently supplied the words she always said to herself every night. "Sweet dreams. Don't let the bedbugs bite." She closed her eyes, shutting away her view of her pleasant room on Wysanti, and revisited her memories of Seven and Icheb and their cargo bay, Borg Central. Her true home.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Icheb was working alone in Cargo Bay Two on a diagnostic of the antimatter injectors, snacking on his favorite chips, when Lieutenant Torres came to see him.

"What's that stuff you're eating?"

"Nutritional supplements replicated to meet my metabolic requirements," he answered.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable doing that sitting down in the mess hall?"

"I prefer to work while I eat. It's a more efficient use of my time."

Lieutenant Torres was very familiar with the concept of Borg efficiency, Icheb knew, so what she said was, "You did a great job today. We're ahead of schedule, thanks to you." Handing him a PADD with the work planned for the morning, she turned to leave. Before she went out the door, however, she paused, turned back to face him, and asked, "Icheb, what do you do for fun?"

His response was a puzzled look and a questioning, "Fun?"

"Recreation. How do you spend your time when you're off duty?"

"Between my work and my studies, I don't have much time for recreation."

"I've learned that you've got to take a break once in a while," she noted. "I've been doing a lot of rock climbing on the Holodeck. Maybe when we're finished tightening all the nuts and bolts, you'd like to join me."

"I do have an interest in geology."

"It's not about the rocks, Icheb. It's about the climbing!"

After she left, Icheb thought about it. Climbing rocks might be an interesting way to spend time. It would also be a good way to augment his scientific examinations of the differences between sedimentary, igneous, and metamorphic rock. That could be . . . fun.

=/\=

Events occurred during the next couple of days which made Icheb unsure how much fun climbing rocks with Lieutenant Torres would prove to be. Several times, while working in close quarters in the Jefferies tubes, Icheb and the chief engineer made physical contact. This didn't appear to bother Lieutenant Torres at all. She kept on talking about how she looked forward to their rock climbing excursion, since Lieutenant Paris, her husband, apparently had little interest engaging in this activity with her. Icheb felt somewhat uncomfortable when he learned this. In fact, the physical contact also aroused unexpected sensations in his body. He would have liked to have spoken with Seven about what he was feeling, but she'd left with Ensign Kim on a second away mission almost as soon as they'd come back from the first one. She wasn't available to explain things to him.

Icheb thought the Doctor might be an appropriate source of information, since he was one of the few members of the crew who were not spending all of their work time making repairs to the ship. The Doctor's information about romantic attraction caused Icheb to be even more apprehensive about continuing his relationship with Lieutenant Torres. The Doctor spoke of heightened vital sign readings, which seemed to confirm Icheb's impression that Lieutenant Torres's interest in Icheb was not that of a mentor guiding an apprentice -- at least, not in relation to engineering principles.

From his studies of Klingon literature, Icheb had learned how competitive Klingons could be, especially when it came to romantic relationships. Thus, when he ran into Lieutenant Paris in the corridor leading to Engineering, it was unnerving to hear the helmsman say, "You've been seeing a lot of my wife lately. Should I be worried?"

When Icheb nervously replied, "Um, the repairs are extensive. It's a lot of work," Tom's response made him feel even more agitated.

"You can't fool me," Tom said seriously. "I heard you two were planning on scaling some cliffs together."

"It was her idea!" Icheb answered.

"Hey, relax!" Tom clasped a friendly hand on Icheb's shoulder. "Spending time on the Holodeck is good for you. But if you really want to have fun, forget climbing. Try my race car program. You get to chase me around the track in an old Earth ground vehicle, at 300 kph. It'll really get your blood pumping!"

In disbelief, Icheb asked the lieutenant, "Are you challenging me to a competition?"

"You think you can take me?" Tom said, the acceptance of a challenge ringing in his voice. "Tomorrow, Holodeck Two, 1900 hours."

Icheb didn't have good control over his emotions whenever he reacted strongly to something. Since he no longer had an emotional inhibitor chip, Icheb was still learning ways of dealing with this sort of thing through biological means. He wondered what his own blood pressure and temperature readings might be, but he resisted the impulse to scan himself. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. From his Klingon readings, Icheb had learned that their competitions of choice generally ran to fighting hand-to-hand with bat'leths, or the occasional fight with one of the many types of knives in the Klingon arsenal of weapons. Tom was human. Perhaps car racing was the way humans did it?

But did humans drive their cars until someone died, the way so many of the clashes with bat'leths seemed to end? Icheb knew he wasn't ready for that.

=/\=

As soon as he entered Engineering, Icheb saw where Lieutenant Torres was working. He approached her and said, "There is something we need to discuss."

"Sure, as soon as you help me finish this diagnostic," the chief engineer said, concentrating more on her diagnostic equipment than on Icheb.

When Icheb told her he wasn't talking about diagnostics, but that the lieutenant's interest in him was "inappropriate," he received her full attention.

"I don't think I understand," she said.

"It's obvious you desire a romantic involvement," Icheb responded.

"Excuse me?"

Icheb explained, "You've made all the customary overtures -- finding reasons to spend time with me, complimenting me, inviting me to engage in . . . recreational activities. Your husband even challenged me to a ritual contest."

"What are you talking about?"

"According to my research, it's a traditional Klingon practice."

Icheb was not to learn until much later of Lieutenant Torres's general aversion to most Klingon practices, but she kindly said, with a smile, "Look, I'm sorry, but you've got the wrong idea. You seemed a little lonely. I was just trying to be friendly."

"I scanned you."

She reacted to that with a dangerous growl. "You scanned me?"

"In the Jefferies tube. Your blood pressure and neurotransmitter readings indicated a state of arousal."

Lieutenant Torres's reaction was swift. Icheb was sad she was clearly in such denial of her true feelings when she exclaimed, "It was hot! And I've been under a lot of pressure! But I certainly wasn't . . . aroused!" After a pause, she said, more reasonably, "Look, Icheb, I like you. But, aside from the fact that I am a much older woman, I'm married!"

"That's why we have to do the honorable thing. We should stop seeing each other."

Instead of blowing up at him, as he'd seen her do in the past when one of her engineers failed to perform their duties accurately, the lieutenant stopped to think for a moment, then smiled slightly and calmly stated, "You're right. As much as it hurts, I'll just have to face the truth."

Icheb, greatly relieved, agreed. "It's for the best." Gently touching her on the arm in farewell, he walked out of the door of Engineering.

An hour later, the captain asked him to perform a new duty. He was assigned to the plasma injector scrubbing team. It wasn't the pleasantest of tasks, but it had to be done. At least this job did not require him to interact with the chief engineer. She could adjust to her disappointment about how things had not worked out between them without the constant reminder of his presence in Engineering.

=/\=

While Icheb was in the mess hall at lunchtime, a group of engineers was laughing in the corner, sneaking a peak at him every few minutes. He heard Ensign Freddie Bristow say, "He thought Lieutenant Torres was coming on to him . . ." and a burst of laughter came right afterwards. He knew they were talking about it. Everyone on the ship was talking about it.

Time to go to Cargo Bay Two with a plate of his nutritional supplement chips and a Nutritional Supplement Number Five shake, with chocolate sprinkles -- no whipped cream, though. He hoped having Seven's favorite shake, and Mezoti's, would comfort him. He had to get out of the mess hall. Virtually the entire crew had been in and out of Engineering because of all the repair work. If they were laughing, so was everyone else on the ship.

Just then, Lieutenant Paris entered the mess hall and went along the line to choose his meal. When he accepted his plate from Neelix, Icheb saw Tom lean in to exchange words about something with the Talaxian chef. Icheb waited to hear them laughing at his expense, but they must not have been speaking about the mortified former Borg teenager. After nodding his head to Neelix, Tom walked over to Icheb's table. Since he had no desire for a confrontation with the helmsman, Icheb stood up, preparing to leave the table to Lieutenant Paris; but Tom said, "Please stay, Icheb. I've been wanting to speak with you."

"I should get back to my work . . . "

"Icheb, please. We need to talk over what happened with B'Elanna. I promise, no bat'leth's or other instruments of mutual destruction will be involved. Just talk."

Icheb sat down. In response to several prompts from Tom, the whole story tumbled out.

". . . . She wasn't happy I'd taken scans of her blood pressure, body temperature, and beta endorphin levels. From the elevated levels, I deduced she was romantically attracted to me. When I said we needed to break it off because it was inappropriate, at first it seemed like she was telling me she wasn't attracted to me, but then she agreed we shouldn't see each other anymore. I thought that was that, but from the way all the engineers are laughing at me, I think I must have been mistaken about Lieutenant Torres's intentions."

"B'Elanna admires you, Icheb, and thinks you have amazing potential. She said you were catching on to engineering procedures faster than anyone else she's ever had the chance to train. From the way you're picking up piloting, I'm not surprised. You're a quick study, Icheb. Everything you take up, you do it so amazingly well. I'm not sure how you do it, frankly. I guess you still have the ability to 'assimilate' learning, even though you're not Borg anymore. B'Elanna may not be romantically inclined towards you, but that might be because I got there first! She praised you because you did good work. She praises all her staff whenever they deserve it, and she gets on their backs when they fail to meet her expectations. Ensign Bristow's name isn't on her preferred engineer list right now. I can't go into the details, but maybe young Mr. Bristow has his own reasons for pointing a finger at you. He might want his co-workers to talk about something other than why our chief engineer chewed him out for his less than stellar performance this past week."

"Lieutenant. . . "

"Call me Tom, Icheb. We aren't on duty now. It's lunchtime."

"Tom, how do you know if someone really is interested in you in a romantic way?"

Tom chewed his mouthful of food for a few seconds before swallowing and answering Icheb. "Well, I don't want to lead you astray after what just happened, so understand that you need to be careful not to jump to conclusions if you observe a person doing things like this around you. I've found that if someone is interested in you, they tend to start conversations with you. They may tease you a little, or giggle a lot. They glance over in your direction often. Sometimes they even bat their eyelashes in your direction. But even then, it may not really mean anything. It can be hard to tell. Some people are just natural flirts."

Tom paused again to chew and swallow another mouthful of his casserole before continuing, "You know, when I think back to just before B'Elanna and I started dating, I was the one making excuses to have conversations with her. I can't count how many times she turned me down flat when I asked her to have dinner with me. Then something happened to us on one away mission that she doesn't like to talk about much. After that, we spoke honestly about us. We agreed we really were attracted to each other, but we decided to take it very slow for quite a while. We met for meals and went to the holodeck together every now and then, often with a group of friends. Back then, I don't know if I would have received a good reception from her either, if I told her I'd taken scans of her neurotransmitter readings -- and although Kes was still the Doc's primary back up at the time, I was a field medic. I had more reason than you did to do a scan on her!" Tom leaned back in his chair and smiled reminiscently. "B'Elanna was a challenge, but I did manage to find guidance from an impeccable source."

"A source?"

Tom leaned in towards Icheb and said, "There was this Klingon romance novel she was reading, called Women Warriors at the River of Blood. I caught her at it, and I joked with her about how she usually only read technical manuals. Then I hooked the PADD it was on and read it. I decided it could fit the definition of a technical manual -- if what you needed technical assistance on was the art of Klingon love! We still laugh over that sometimes. What gave you the idea to scan B'Elanna's vital signs anyway?"

"I went to Doc."

Tom leaned back in his chair and groaned, "Of course. Doc. You went to Doc for advice? No wonder you got the wrong idea. If you've got a medical problem you need help with, Doc is your man. When it comes to romance, however, he's the last person you should consult with. When he was 'guiding' Seven on interpersonal relationships and dating, he had her taking detailed notes about how many times B'Elanna and I . . . how often we were . . . well, Seven got carried away with her data collection, let's leave it at that. Doc loves to push his photonic nose into everybody's business. Half the time, he gets it wrong, and the other half, he exaggerates things beyond all recognition."

"Seven says he can be too inquisitive."

"She's got that right."

"So, elevated blood pressure, temperature, and beta-endorphin levels aren't associated with sexual arousal?"

"They can be, Icheb. There's something called context, though. If you're taking readings like that when the person you're interested in is sitting in the holographic movie theater, and it's a dull movie, and you've got your arm around her and you're about to kiss her, those readings probably do mean what Doc told you they meant. However, if you're sitting in a toasty-hot Jeffries tube, wrestling with spare parts and hydrospanners to fix the ship, you might get the same body temperature and blood pressure readings from exertion. And if you're also feeling good about getting the repairs done because someone competent is helping you do the work, so it's going even better than you expected, those beta-endorphin levels would rise too, you see?"

"I do see. It's still embarrassing. Ensign Bristow has been telling everyone about it."

"It'll blow over. It always does. Maybe the gossips are a little jealous about how knowledgeable you are and want to take you down a peg. Don't worry about Bristow. He had a serious crush on B'Elanna before I started dating her, and she shot him down. I'm sure he's jealous over how well you were doing! Seriously, if you'd like to go rock climbing or car racing or something else with us, just say so. B'Elanna and I will both go. Maybe we can invite Naomi along, too. She could use some fun, poor kid."

"Yes, she misses Mezoti almost as much as I do."

"When Seven and Harry get back, we'll program a new holodeck adventure for all of us to take part in. You tell me what sort of thing you'd like to do, and we'll set it up."

"I would like that, Tom."

"I have an idea. Why don't we both look over at Ensign Bristow and then snicker behind our hands, like we're laughing at him. He deserves it. Payback, as they say, can be a bitch."

So that's what they did.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 54308

Dear Mezoti,

I sent you a letter a while ago from an uninhabited planet. We landed there to complete repairs to Voyager which Lieutenant Torres said were difficult to complete while traveling in space. I also sent you two letters after we left, but I don't know if you received them. I haven't gotten any messages from you in return. I hope you get this one.

While we were making repairs, Seven and Ensign Kim accompanied Kraylor civilian medical staff on a humanitarian mission, delivering medicines to their people. The Kraylor are apparently engaged in a conflict with another local race, the Annari, who claimed the uninhabited planet we were on as part of their territory. The captain had negotiated a trade with the Annari for items we needed for our repairs. I was not told the full story about what happened, but when Ensign Kim and Seven provided assistance to the Kraylor, the Annari accused Captain Janeway of taking sides against them. We were ordered to leave the planet suddenly, and the Annari did not honor the trade agreement.

Fortunately, before we left, we had completed all the repairs Lieutenant Torres felt were critical for the ship's operation. Two of the away teams had come back with sufficient deuterium and other materials to finish what we needed to do and to fuel the ship to travel out of Annari space. We will need to obtain any missing items from somewhere else.

My studies are going well. I have decided to concentrate on subjects other than engineering for the time being, but Lieutenant Paris says I'm a "natural" when it comes to flying.

Naomi and I went on three holodeck excursions with Lieutenant Paris and Lieutenant Torres recently. Tom programmed several hiking trail programs. Two are in national parks on Earth: the Grand Canyon and Yosemite Valley. Tom is very familiar with both of those trails. The other trail is located on Ktaria, Naomi's father's home planet. The scenery is beautiful in all three programs, although I liked the Yosemite one the best.

While Tom did most of the programming, Ensign Wildman was able to provide details from her memories of hiking the Ktarian Highlands Trail with Naomi's father, from their "courting days," as she put it. She also gave Tom some images that were not available to Tom through his regular research sources. That made our trip more authentic. Ensign Wildman walked with us when we did that one. Ensign Kim did, too. Seven accompanied us on the Yosemite trail program, but she said she would prefer to participate in other sporting activities in the future. She claimed the heels of her hiking boots were not built up enough for comfort.

Many people assume that Seven's high heels are something the Doctor gave her because it is attractive to look at pretty women wearing high heels. Actually, when he removed most of her implants, there is one along each of her Achilles tendons that could not be removed. Seven cannot put her heel down all the way to the floor without pain when her feet are bare. When the heels of her shoes are not elevated enough, her legs and back can hurt her after exercise. We are fortunate those implants never formed in us, Mezoti. I did suggest to Seven she could replicate hiking boots that had the proper heel height, but she said she'd rather play sports such as Velocity with the captain. I thought the hiking programs were aesthetically pleasing, and not much rock climbing was involved in any of them. I've decided not to do any rock climbing on the holodeck for personal reasons I will not get into here.

I guess I'd better close this letter now. I hope we aren't out of range. If that's the problem, I guess I will not receive a response from you this time, either. I hope Seven, Ensign Kim, and Lieutenant Torres can adapt the Pathfinder Project's technology to keep in touch with you someday. Until then, take care of yourself.

Your brother, Icheb

P.S. (This stands for post-script): Naomi sends her best wishes to you, too. She sent you three letters, but she hasn't received an answer to any of them, either. We talk about you often. We miss you very much.

=/\=

Stardate 54310

"Did a letter come from Icheb or Naomi today, Mazani?"

"No, Mezoti. No letters today."

Mezoti sat in the chair in the corner of Mazani's studio, where she usually sat when she visited while Mazani was working. "It's been a long time since I heard from them."

For a few minutes, Mazani continued to work the clay on her table, shaping it into a form she was considering for a bronze casting. When she had prodded the clay into a shape that, for the moment, spoke to her aesthetically, she stood up and washed her hands at the sink near Mezoti's chair. As she was drying her hands, Mazani said quietly, "I spoke to Arebi about it this morning. Mezoti, dear, he believes Voyager is now out of range for recorded and text messages. He plotted the position of the planet where Voyager landed. He told me it's in the territory of the Annari. If he's right, they were out of range when they were on the planet's surface. You may have been lucky to get even one message from there. He does not believe Wysanti technology would have been capable of sending your letters to them if they were that far away."

"I see," Mezoti said. She felt like crying. If only her emotional inhibitor chip hadn't gone bad, she wouldn't have had to try so hard to keep a neutral expression on her face.

"Would you like to go out to dinner to our special café with Arebi and me tonight? Azan and Rebi will be visiting friends for their evening meal."

"That would be very nice. I believe I will go to my room now."

"Of course."

Mezoti heard Mazani's sigh when she left. Perhaps she should have remained and spoken to Mazani about her disappointment, but she didn't feel like doing that right now.

Once Mezoti arrived at her room, she put her feelings down in her diary. She always wrote her diary in Federation Standard. She used Federation Stardates for every entry. She wanted to remember the language and keep track of time the Starfleet way, the way Voyager did it. She needed to keep practicing, so she could remember how to use both -- just in case she needed them again, someday.

=/\=

"Tabor, we've been hiking for two hours straight. Where's this 'spectacular view' you've been promising us?" Tom Paris asked.

"We're almost there, Tom," the Bajoran ensign replied. His girlfriend, Crewman Olandra Jor, smiled as he grabbed her by the hand. "How are you kids doing?" Tabor asked.

"Who are you calling a kid, Ensign Tabor?" B'Elanna Torres answered, assuming a mock "superior officer to underling" persona. Naomi and Icheb both laughed, but Icheb had to admit he was ready for a break.

The group was hiking along the High Bajoran trail, which Tabor had helped Tom create as part of his "Hiking Trail" holodeck program series. Everyone was more than ready to get to the lookout Tabor promised which had a "spectacular view." That was where they were supposed to stop for lunch, and Icheb was hungry.

"Here we are," Tabor announced, as the group marched out of a stand of trees. He waved them off the trail onto a short path, which served as the approach to a huge rock. After a few quick steps up, the six hikers were able to view the charming scene spread before them.

The broad valley floor was dotted with small farms, patches of woodland, and at least a dozen streams. They rushed down the mountains lining both sides of valley, joining the lazy Karliffa River as it meandered from side to side. The cliffs facing them looked like they had been terraced by humanoids, but, in fact, they were a natural feature of the landscape. Every layer was a different color and was composed of a different form of sedimentary rock, each of which had weathered at its own rate. The cliffs looked a little like the cake Neelix had just prepared to commemorate the Delaney sisters' birthday. The juxtaposition of the natural mountainsides with the farmland on the valley floor was very pleasing. It was very different from the way Brunal had looked. Icheb wondered if his home world might once have had peaceful scenes such as this, before the Borg had ruined it all.

After a few minutes, Tabor broke the silence, but the tone of his voice was soft and reverential. "I came here with my family many times when I was very small. Once, when I was about eight years old, I hiked the whole trail with my father and uncle. I didn't know at the time what they were really doing. They were surveying an escape route for the Resistance to use to reach a cavern hideout." He pointed at a branch of the main trail just ahead. "That's where the cut off was. When you go down that path towards the creek, there's a rocky section that hides your footprints. Once you'd turned off towards the hideout, the stony way made it hard for the Cardassians to trace you. The Resistance kept the cavern stocked with supplies." Tabor sighed sadly. "My uncle was caught about a year later, and my whole family was sent to Crell Moset's hospital afterwards. My grandfather died there."

Icheb remembered reading something about this hospital in his study of Voyager's logs. He looked past Tabor to B'Elanna, who was getting a little agitated. Tom put his arm around her shoulders, and she began to calm down. To distract Naomi from Tom and B'Elanna's problem, whatever it was, Icheb asked Tabor, "Does this valley look the same now?"

"I've been in the Delta Quadrant for over six years now, Icheb. And I was in the Maquis for more than two years before that, so I haven't been here in years. This is the way it looked the last time I was here, though, and in his last datastream letter, my brother said this valley was still green and beautiful. The Cardassians never ruined this one, like they did so many others."

"Ensign Tabor, does seeing it now bring back bad memories because of what happened to your family afterwards?" Naomi asked.

"The memories are sad, but this is still a beautiful spot. I actually programmed this lookout section about three years ago, for my personal use. Every time I come here, I pray to the Prophets to safeguard the soul of my grandfather. As soon as Tom told me about his Hiking Trails project, I immediately thought of including this trail as a tribute to Grandfather. My memories may be bittersweet, Naomi, but don't you think that Ktarian trail is a little like that for your mother? She volunteered to help program that trail. She hiked it with your dad long before you were born."

"She did say something like that to me after we walked it. It's amazing to think this whole scene fits inside a small part of Voyager, isn't it? It looks like a real place, not a holographic program. Fair Haven is like that, too, Lieutenant Paris. Especially the part near the shoreline."

"Thanks, Naomi. As often as I come in here to set up new programs, it still amazes me what holodeck technology can do."

"Tabor, would you like to spend a few moments in prayer before we walk on?" Olandra asked.

"If all of you don't mind the delay . . ."

"No problem," Tom said. "It's time for lunch."

Tabor and Jor kneeled together on the hard rock at the lookout's crest and held hands. Very softly, Tabor chanted some words in Bajoran. Icheb didn't know if Crewman Jor understood Tabor's Bajoran words, but she knelt quietly next to her boyfriend until he was finished. The other four hikers stepped down the path a short way, where several boulders created ample seating for their picnic. They broke out the food, but they didn't start to eat until the couple had finished their prayers and joined them.

The group had just cleaned up the remnants of their meal and were about to continue onward when they were interrupted by a comm call.

:::Lieutenant Paris,::: Commander Chakotay's disembodied voice said. :::Sorry to interrupt you on your day off, but you're needed on the bridge. We've intercepted a distress call, and the captain wants you at the helm during our approach.:::

"Understood," Tom replied. "I'll be right there." Turning to the others as he signed off, Tom said, "We're about three quarters of the way along the trail, if you want to finish today."

"Not if there's a distress call. Tabor, Jor, we'd better get to Engineering. Sorry about this, Naomi and Icheb." The Chief Engineer of Voyager, not B'Elanna, was the person addressing them now.

"That's okay, Lieutenant Torres. I should go to my quarters so my mom knows where I am. We can finish the program another day."

"I'll walk with you, Naomi," Icheb said, as Lieutenant Paris called for the arch to exit the holodeck. It was strange, but as soon as they'd received that call, they'd all reverted to Lieutenant Paris, Lieutenant Torres, Ensign Tabor, Crewman Jor, Cadet Icheb -- and future cadet/captain's assistant Naomi.

Once they were out of the holodeck, Lieutenant Paris gave his wife a quick kiss good-bye before striding quickly down the corridor. The engineers disappeared rapidly in the opposite direction, leaving the two young people behind.

"Don't you have a duty station to go to, Icheb?" Naomi asked.

"No, not really. I'll go to Astrometrics if Seven wants my help, but otherwise, I'm supposed to follow my normal schedule for the day."

". . . which has been disrupted by the distress call," Naomi sighed. "You don't have to walk with me to my quarters. I can get there by myself."

"Of course, but I promised to go with you, so I will."

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Since they'd left the holodeck program early, Icheb had unscheduled time available. While he could go to Astrometrics to be with Seven, he knew she would call him if, or more likely, when, she needed his help. He decided to go to the Sickbay lab to work on his latest genetic program until she contacted him. That was the next thing on his schedule, and it wouldn't hurt that he'd have a little more time to pursue it. He'd been trying to figure out how to produce a hypospray which would give everyone on Voyager a form of protection against becoming assimilated. If that didn't work, he had another idea that would essentially create the genetic modification his parents had put into Icheb into anyone who didn't mind becoming a "Typhoid Mary" to the Borg. If Voyager was attacked and the crew assimilated, the pathogen might be distributed widely in the quadrant. If many cubes met the fate of the one where Voyager found them, the Borg would be weakened substantially, particularly if he could find a way to send the pathogen from cube to cube via each vessel's Central Plexus.

Icheb had also decided it would be a good idea to obtain training as one of the EMH's backup field medics, like Tom Paris. If he stayed nearby, he could help the Doctor if he needed to move injured people around in Sickbay. It wouldn't hurt to practice using the medical tricorder in triage situations, either.

After changing into his cadet uniform, Icheb stopped by Sickbay. "My holodeck excursion ended early, Doctor. I'll be in the lab if you need me." The EMH waved at Icheb to acknowledge his status report, and Icheb went to the lab to work on his independent study project.

A little later, Icheb heard a commotion in Sickbay. The Doctor shouted at someone. Very soon after that, Icheb recognized the voices of the captain and commander. Icheb was very curious, but he didn't think the command team needed his help. They'd undoubtedly summoned a security team to assist them. Things settled down for a while, but later, Icheb heard many strange, angry voices speaking roughly, accusing someone named "Donik" of being a coward, After he heard the word "Hirogen," Icheb realized who these new arrivals must be. Icheb closed up the console he was working on and waited in the lab, in case the Doctor called for his assistance.

The EMH never did call Icheb in, but once he Hirogen Hunters stomped out, he slipped into Sickbay. A being with the tough, reptilian features of the Hirogen, which Icheb had viewed in Voyager's database, was lying on a biobed. Icheb didn't see the Doctor, but Tom Paris was there.

"Mr. Paris?" Icheb called out. "May I be of any assistance?"

Tom waved him in and indicated Icheb should approach him. In a low tone of voice, Tom said, "We had to shut down the Doctor. Donik was freaking out because the holograms in a training simulation he was controlling overpowered forty-three Hirogen Hunters. The only reason he's alive is because he masked his life signs and hid. He thought all of us were holograms who had captured him. The captain and commander explained that the Doc was the only hologram, but they had to shut him down to get anything out of Donik. That's why I'm still here." Tom leaned in and whispered even more softly, "Donik doesn't know I've been in touch with the Doc. He's on one of the holodecks, monitoring what I'm doing and making suggestions on this monitor."

He pointed to the display in front of him, and Icheb saw the Doctor's face, with a mute sign in the corner of the screen. The EMH's mouth moved, but what he said appeared in caption form on the display below his face: "We don't want Donik to know I'm still involved with his treatment. Mr. Paris, why don't you ask Icheb to speak with our patient? Maybe he can get more out of him than we've learned so far."

"Does this have anything to do with the Lokirrim holograms' rebellion?" Icheb asked.

"We're not sure yet," Tom answered. "Maybe you can find out. Donik's a young guy. He's frightened out of his wits by what happened to the Hunters. He was attacked and injured before he managed to hide out. Maybe he'll relate to you better than he has to the rest of us."

"Of course. I'd like to help." Icheb nodded to the Doctor's image and to Tom. Both expressed their thanks, from the Doctor in a caption displayed on the screen, and verbally, from Tom.

When Icheb and Tom got close to Donik, he saw this Hirogen was much smaller than those depicted in the official log entries he'd studied. Icheb was noticeably taller. Icheb tried to start a conversation with him, but the Hirogen didn't respond. Icheb was about to leave his side when Donik said, "I listened to my Alpha and followed his orders. What else was I supposed to do?"

Since he didn't know the details of what had happened, Icheb wasn't certain how to answer him immediately. Then he realized he could respond to one aspect. Orders are orders. "We're supposed to follow orders in Starfleet, too; but there are times we must speak up and state our objections. Some of our crew told me they wish they'd refused to go along with some of the actions their commanding officers insisted they take, because they knew they were wrong, but their commanding officers threatened to kill them if they didn't."

Icheb stopped speaking, since Donik was becoming agitated by what Icheb was saying. He realized he needed to clarify the Equinox Five's history better or Donik would be even less likely to cooperate. Besides, what Icheb had just said was misleading. It was incomplete. "Donik, this didn't happen on Voyager. The crew mates I'm talking about served on another ship before Captain Janeway rescued them and brought them on board. She would never give them the kind of orders those other commanders did."

Donik calmed down and then admitted, "I don't know if my Alpha would have killed me if I didn't follow his orders. He might have. I knew what he wanted me to do wasn't wise. He ordered me to make the holograms even more powerful than they already were."

"Photonic beings, you mean? Like our Doctor?"

"Yes." Donik looked around him, but the EMH was still absent from Sickbay. Tom's body hid the display showing the Doctor's face. "They killed all the Hunters in the simulation! That wouldn't have happened if I hadn't weakened the safeties, like my Alpha ordered me to. And then the holograms took control and shut them down all the way. I couldn't stop them from killing everyone, and I couldn't stop them from escaping. Once I was hurt, all I could do was hide myself from them, or they would have murdered me, too. The other Alpha and Beta are angry with me. They blame me for what happened."

Icheb nodded. "I followed First's orders even after I realized he didn't know everything he claimed to about the systems on our Borg cube. We killed someone needlessly as a result."

"You were Borg?"

"I used to be. I still have some implants, but I'm not linked to the Borg Collective now."

"Even Hirogen Hunters avoid confrontations with the Borg."

"Donik, aren't all Hirogens Hunters?"

"I'm not. I'd probably die very quickly if I tried to be one. When I was growing up, I was always more interested in engineering and communication systems, and my mother encouraged me to study those subjects. She wanted me to find a way to live without the Hunt. At one time, the Hirogen had a very rich culture, with scientists who created marvelous inventions. She taught me all about it. Few Hirogen males seem interested in doing anything like that anymore. If it were not for the females like my mother, I think the Hirogen might have died out by now. I hardly ever saw my father. He was killed when a hunt didn't go the way his Alpha expected."

"I don't think we've ever met any female Hirogen, unless they look like the males."

"No, I'm sure you've never met them. They live far from here. Their skin is much smoother than the males'. Hunters come back and present females they like with body parts. Most of the females I know, like my mother and sister, think these 'trophies' are disgusting, but the Hunters don't seem to notice -- or care. Mother heard about this new holographic technology and told me to look into it, to see if it was something I could do instead of going on the Hunt. Killing other beings for trophies has never appealed to me."

"So you learned holographic programming?"

"Yes, so I could service the Hunter training centers. I really liked my job at first, but the Hunters wanted to kill the same holograms over and over again. They insisted I make them more and more cunning, and then they wanted them to suffer pain when they were injured. For the 'challenge.' After a while, something happened to many of them. They began to think for themselves. They came up with ways of attacking that I never programmed into them. And now this. Forty-three Hunters are dead, and they say it's my fault."

Seven once told Icheb about a Hirogen Hunter who helped Tuvok and Seven survive in a Tsunkatse arena. Seven said he was "admirable." This Hirogen Not-a-Hunter might be more like that one. Icheb remembered this while speaking with Donik and decided the Hirogen must be just like everyone else. Some are brutal, others are fools, and some are decent people like Donik, who are victims of the way their culture has become warped over the years -- perhaps centuries.

Icheb hadn't been in charge of his own fate because of what his parents did to him. He could understand how Donik felt and confided, "When I was on a Borg cube, hundreds of drones lost their lives because of me. I still feel it was my fault, but Seven -- who used to be Borg and will be my adoptive mother soon -- always says it wasn't. My parents modified my genetic code so that if I was assimilated, a pathogen would be released to kill Borg drones. Then they set me loose in a small ship, in the path of a cube, so the Borg could assimilate me. It worked. All the adult drones died. A few neonatal drones like me were born too early, before we knew what we needed to know in order to survive. I followed the orders of First -- my 'Alpha.' We killed an alien when we tried to assimilate him because we didn't have the knowledge we needed to do it right. If I'd really been Borg, I wouldn't care about what we did, but I do feel badly about it."

Donik sighed. "I followed orders, but I'm still at fault. I didn't do it right. The holograms malfunctioned because of the way I reprogrammed them."

"If you could have seen into the future, you would have done it differently. Now all you can do is try to help keep it from happening again."

"I'm not sure how I can do that."

"You can help Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay if they ask you to."

Donik considered this for a few seconds. "Do you think they can be trusted? Your captain gave the Hirogen this technology in the first place."

Tom approached the biobed then. "Pardon me for overhearing, Donik. Let me explain something. Captain Janeway traded the technology to the Hirogen in exchange for our lives. Several Hirogen Hunter groups had taken over Voyager, and we were fighting to free ourselves from them. The two sides had reached a stalemate. Cataahr, the Alpha Hirogen, wanted to use holographic technology to replace the Hunt, not to be used as a training tool. From what the captain told us about him after the fighting was all over, I don't think he'd have approved of what your Alpha ordered you to do to the holograms, either. But he was murdered by his Beta, who didn't understand Cataahr's plan. He thought if your people stayed in one place, they could rebuild the Hirogen culture. Cataahr wanted what you say your mother wanted."

"I see. You don't use holograms in training scenarios then?"

"Well, we do, but we don't make them suffer pain or anything like that. They're three dimensional images of people. It sounds like what your Alpha told you to do turned your holograms into a people, if they suffered and then could think of ways to become even more than their programming. Our Doctor, the hologram who was treating you, has become a lot like the holograms you created, but he's also a physician who is programmed to 'Do No Harm.' He's the only hologram here who is completely aware of what and where he is. He's surpassed his original programming by learning skills on his own, but we needed him to be like that. Our entire organic medical staff was killed when Voyager was dragged here. The Doc is still the only true professional physician we have on Voyager."

"He won't hurt me because of what I did to other holograms?"

Mr. Paris replied, "Donik, if he ever hurts you when he's treating you, it's because it's unavoidable, and it's the only way you'll get better. He'd never deliberately inflict pain or suffering on any of his patients. Won't you let me bring him here to finish treating you? My main job is steering this ship through space, and I have a feeling they'll be needing me for that job sooner, rather than later."

Icheb added, "I'll stay with you until our Doctor has finished what he needs to do for you, Donik. I've been wanting to find out more about being a field medic anyway. This will give me an opportunity to observe what the Doctor does to treat injuries like yours."

Donik considered this for a short while, but then he gave permission for the EMH to be reactivated. As soon as he took form in Sickbay, the Doctor approached his patient with an encouraging smile. "Thank you for trusting me, Donik. I assure you, Mr. Paris and Mr. Icheb are telling you the truth. My mission is to heal. Now, let's release Mr. Paris to do a job he is truly qualified for. To the bridge, Mr. Paris!"

When Icheb and Tom both laughed at the imperious way the Doctor had ordered Tom to leave Sickbay, Donik relaxed onto the biobed. Mr. Paris left Sickbay to return to his primary job as Lieutenant Paris, Chief Helmsman of Voyager, while the EMH used his evaluative tools -- painlessly -- to finish treating the young Hirogen. Icheb remained with Donik, diverting him by asking him to tell him more about his mother, and what it was like to grow up Hirogen with the expectation of having to become a Hunter, whether he wanted to be one or not.

=/\=

Once his treatment was over, Donik still needed to rest in Sickbay to completely heal from his injuries. Icheb was due to report to Astrometrics, and Donik agreed he no longer needed to stay with him in Sickbay. He thanked Icheb for staying with him and acknowledged, "You were right about your EMH."

Icheb was still working with Seven in Astrometrics when a decoy bomb, set up by the renegade holograms, went off and destroyed the Hirogen vessel that attacked it, thinking it was the ship the holograms had commandeered. Seven sent Icheb to Sickbay to help with the care of the injured Hirogen who had been transported to Voyager before their ship exploded. He arrived just after the hologram's ship abducted the Doctor's program.

With the Doctor gone, a decision was made to transfer all the wounded Hirogen to the mess hall, to keep them all in one place. Most of their injuries were minor. Icheb stayed in the mess hall with Tom, helping with triage. Icheb looked on while the captain and the Beta-Hirogen had a confrontation. He was gratified to hear Donik offer to help the captain find the hologram ship. After the captain and Donik left the mess hall, he did his best to help their Hirogen "guests." Icheb decided that while he liked Donik, he really disliked the Beta. After what Seven had told him about Turanj, the Beta from the World War II simulation, Icheb wondered if one of the requirements of being a Beta was to be belligerent and foolish enough to prove he had what it takes to be a single-minded, foolish Alpha.

Icheb was relieved when he heard the EMH had returned. That changed when the Doctor didn't show up in the mess hall to help Tom, as ordered by the captain. In fact, he left the ship again of his own volition. Right after that, the ship shook, and only emergency power was available in the mess hall. Tom sent Icheb down to Engineering to help repair whatever was wrong with the ship. Once Icheb arrived, he discovered what had happened. The holograms had used a feedback surge to counter Voyager's attempt to deactivate them. The surge damaged Voyager's systems. The ship was adrift in space. Worse, the hologram vessel had escaped, and the EMH was with them. So was Lieutenant Torres; the renegades had kidnapped her.

=/\=

Seven assigned Icheb to work on repairs with Ensign Bristow, the last engineer Icheb would have chosen as a partner. He'd never revealed to Seven how the ensign had mocked him when Icheb had mistaken Lieutenant Torres's friendliness for romantic intentions. He wasn't about to tell her anything about it now, in such a critical situation. Fortunately, Ensign Bristow seemed even more uncomfortable than Icheb was, and they proceeded to work together without either of them complaining about being forced to work together. They didn't have the time to waste, since Seven and Lieutenant Carey were hard pressed to fix Voyager's systems as quickly as possible. Icheb overheard Seven telling the captain the work was taking longer than it would if Lieutenant Torres had been available to give directions to her staff. He told himself he should remember to tell Lieutenant Torres this once she was back. As the captain said, this was "high praise" coming from Seven, who seldom complimented anyone on their efficiency.

Once power was restored and the ship's propulsion systems were back on line, Seven ordered Icheb to go to Astrometrics to provide the captain with answers to any questions she might ask for as long as Seven remained in Engineering with Lieutenant Carey, finishing "refinements" to the repairs. As Icheb turned to go, Ensign Bristow extended his hand to him. "Thanks for the help, Cadet. When Lieutenant Torres gets back, she'll be happy to hear you helped us out."

"You're welcome, Ensign. It was . . . good to work with you."

Bristow smiled ruefully and tilted his head. That was as much of an apology as Icheb was ever likely to get, but under the circumstances, it was enough.

=/\=

Stardate 54338.2 Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

Lieutenant Torres is back on board the ship. Many times, I must wait a long time to find out what happened during an action, and then, only through the ship's "grapevine," as Naomi calls it. This time, I learned about what happened directly from Lieutenant Torres. She explained how the leader of the holograms, Iden, became dangerous to everyone, not just to the Hirogen, because he developed what our EMH diagnosed as megalomania. The Doctor finally had to kill Iden in order to save the few remaining Hirogen from being murdered. This must have been very difficult for our Doctor because of his Hippocratic Oath, but in this case, he had to do it or see others die by Iden's hand.

Lieutenant Torres told me that most of the holograms she'd met on the holoemitters-equipped ship didn't really seem that bad to her. Iden was misleading them. He led the Doctor completely astray, too. She admitted Iden sounded reasonable for a while, when he wanted Lieutenant Torres to help them set up a field generator to permit the holograms to live on a Y-class (a demon-type) planet. Later, they learned the Iden hologram lied to everyone, especially our EMH, about his true intentions. Iden is gone now. Once the surviving holograms are reprogrammed, Lieutenant Torres believes they will not be dangerous to "organics" like us.

Lieutenant Torres also told me her opinions about Cardassians were altered when she worked with one of the holograms. Kejal, their engineer, was formed in the image of a Cardassian. Lieutenant Torres doesn't know if Kejal is more representative of what Cardassians are really like than her impressions of them from her experiences as a member of the Maquis. All her previous contacts with Cardassians were with warriors trying to kill her. The one other Cardassian she'd spent any time with before meeting this hologram was Seska, who was masquerading as a Bajoran engineer. "She was a spy. The engineer part of her was just a cover," Lieutenant Torres said. "I can't judge all Cardassian engineers by Seska. It's possible more of them might be like Kejal. I doubt I'll ever find out for sure."

We've now left the Y-class planet Iden called Ha'dara, the "Home of Light," behind us. The holograms hoped they would be allowed to live in peace there, since the atmosphere on Ha'dara is poisonous to almost all non-holographic forms of life. Since the Hirogen know its location, they could easily return with an overwhelming force and destroy the holograms after Voyager resumes its journey to the Alpha Quadrant. It's not safe for them to live there now.

The Hirogen technician Donik chose to remain with them on their holoemitters-equipped ship. He wants to work with Kejal, the only hologram who is currently active. Kejal is now their leader, since, according to Lieutenant Torres, Iden's program was unrecoverable. Donik wishes to undo the damage he did when he blindly followed the orders of his Alpha. It led to the deaths of many other Hirogen -- including that Alpha.

I can relate. I wish to dedicate my Starfleet career to those who lost their lives on the Borg cube I came from, because of the pathogen which lingers inside me. I understand what happened isn't my fault. My parents put it into me without my knowledge or consent. The drones on the cube had lost their individuality, and the lives they were meant to live had already been taken away, but I do sometimes wonder if any of the drones on my cube ever visited Unimatrix Zero while they were regenerating. Maybe they would have become part of the Resistance, too, if things had gone differently. Or perhaps, if they had been rescued by Voyager the way our Children's Collective was, they could have learned to become individuals the way Seven has. I know I'll never find that out either.

After all the stories I'd heard about the bloodthirsty Hirogen, it was good to meet one who was nothing like the ones I'd heard about. It reminds me I must always judge all individuals on their own merits and not to think all of them are alike, just because they belong to the same species.

I must admit, when Lieutenant Torres told me Iden's program was "unrecoverable," I perceived a bit of prevarication in her response. It would not surprise me to learn that Kejal, Donik, and Lieutenant Torres had agreed to delete his program instead, rather than try to repair it. They may have felt his megalomania was too deeply ingrained in his matrix for them to repair him.

Only five Hirogen Hunters survived Iden's massacre on Ha'dara. The Beta insisted they would not leave the ship and its database behind, since it was "Hirogen property." No one doubted the Beta really wanted to exterminate the holograms (and I think he would have liked to destroy Donik as well), but Neelix asked him a critical question. What story did the Beta want to be remembered by? Would he be remembered as the Beta who only survived because his life had been saved by a hologram? Or would it be the tale of the Beta who heroically took over the hunt and destroyed the holograms and their ship? He could be "a legend." Neelix didn't say anything about the first scenario being a "cautionary tale," but the Beta was smart enough to know that's what it would have been.

I'm also sure that if the Hirogen had wanted to continue the Hunt, the captain would have been forced to reactivate the holograms so they could defend themselves and Donik. From what Lieutenant Torres and the Doctor told me about the Starfleet hologram called Weiss, there's no guarantee the Hirogen would have beaten them. Only five Hirogen were left, and they all might have died if Weiss had the chance to attack them. By leaving the holograms alone, the Beta and the other four survivors could maintain the fiction of their heroism.

The Beta picked the legend. It's a lie, of course, but as Tom said afterwards, history is recorded by the victors. If there's no one around to contradict it, that's the way it remains. Kejal insists the holograms don't want to fight anyone. They just want to be left alone to discover what sort of people they really are. They have their own history to create. While they will preserve the real story, they don't mind if the Hirogen maintain the fiction of their victory over the holograms.

=/\=

Personal Log Addendum

I mentioned Seven's comment about how we could have fixed the ship more rapidly if Lieutenant Torres was directing the work to the chief engineer. I believe the captain hadn't had a chance to tell her about this, since the lieutenant laughed and said, "I'm flattered!" Then she told me that ever since the crisis with Seven's cortical node, when she allowed Seven to "hide out" from the Doctor, the two of them have gotten along much better. "We've clashed sometimes. Both of us have very decided opinions, and neither of us holds anything back when expressing them; but we value some of the same things, especially precision and efficiency when completing our tasks. I'm glad she recognizes that, too. I'll have to thank her."

I'm glad I shared this with Lieutenant Torres. Seven could use a female friend. Lieutenant Torres would be a good role model for her as she continues adapting to human social values -- even if Lieutenant Torres is half Klingon. They're more alike than either of them know.

=/\=

Stardate 54347.2 Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

We're in orbit over a planet Seven and I identified, similar in some ways to Ha'dara, on which the holograms have decided to settle. One of the advantages of this world is that it isn't a Class-Y, where Donik would be unable to survive on its surface. It's a Class-H. There's a barely breathable, very dry atmosphere, and no surface water at all. Donik said he possesses technology that can extract a sufficient supply of water from the rocks for his personal use. The holograms have no need of any. While the gravity is a little greater than most humanoids would find comfortable, Donik's Hirogen musculature can handle it easily.

We identified a system of caverns, very extensive, with a space large enough in which to hide their ship. Our crew is helping them excavate an entrance so they can land the vessel inside it. Dense magnesite deposits overlay the caves. That substance blocks scanner technology. If we hadn't detected a small passageway leading to the outside, the caverns would never have been discovered. Once the ship is inside, Donik and Kejal plan to use masking technology to hide the entrance from view.

After that, the entire cave system will be fitted with holoemitters, and all the holograms can be reactivated. A few may need reprogramming, but Kejal believes most will understand that organics are NOT all bad, once they learn of the assistance Voyager's crew provided to create their sanctuary. With the abundance of minerals found on this planet, which will allow them to construct more holoemitters and field generators, Kejal and Donik believe they'll be able to build an extensive underground city, well-hidden from the prying eyes of "organics" like us.

Kejal doesn't know what the planet will be called once the others are reactivated. While the name Ha'dara, or "home of light" is very appropriate for a world settled by photonics, she's not sure she would like this planet to be called by the name Iden had wanted. We'll be on our way tomorrow. I guess we never will know what to call it, other than the "Hologram Planet." Maybe that's the right name, since it's a Class-H world.

When Donik visited Sickbay to complete scans of the Doctor's mobile emitter, I went to say hello to him. He told me he hopes to find a way to reproduce the mobile emitter technology. He doesn't think he'll be able to create anything as small as the Doctor's, but he'd like to build something that will allow the holograms to visit their outer world without building so many field generators, organics will be able to detect a holographic presence on the planet. He also took readings of Seven's and my Borg technology. Under a great deal of pressure from Seven and Ensign Kim, the Doctor related the story of how he eluded detection by the Lokirrim when he "possessed" Seven's body. Donik became excited by the prospect of building "housing" which will allow the holograms to inhabit the electronic system of a robot. That would hide their true nature even more, and would also provide the ability to move around in areas outside the generator's range.

When Tom called his wife to tell her about this, she came to Sickbay and provided information about several robotic systems she's worked with in the past. "Just don't turn them into talking bombs," she said. Tom laughed when she said this, but the Doctor and Ensign Kim were mortified. I think I'll have to review our logs to find out why. I'm sure there's a story here they weren't willing to share with me today.

Kejal said the holograms will be happy if no one ever finds them again. From what I've seen of Donik, I think he's had enough of Hirogen Hunters to last a lifetime, too. His only regret was that his mother would never know of his survival. When he said this, Captain Janeway asked him for the coordinates of his mother's home. If our path to the Alpha Quadrant should take us near enough to send word to her, we'll forward the private message he's placed in the captain's possession. Donik wanted his mother to know he'd found a way to utilize the skills she'd encouraged him to learn, allowing him to turn his back on the Hunt forever.

=/\=

Stardate 54359.8 Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

Something very strange happened today. Commander Chakotay ordered Lieutenant Torres to burn out Voyager's deflector dish. It should be operational by the beginning of Gamma shift, and Voyager will be able to go on its way again.

Naomi and I were in "Borg Central" this morning. I had fashioned a puzzle to help her learn more about genetic engineering. The puzzle was of a DNA chain. I was very pleased when she recognized the complementary base pair. I thought my teaching method was proving to be very successful -- until Naomi told me she just found two pieces that fit together. This proves her recognition of spatial relationships is well developed, but she totally missed the point of the lesson in the structure of DNA chains.

She rolled her eyes at me and said, "I thought the 'point' was to finish the puzzle."

I replied that she was also supposed to be learning something about genetics.

Then she asked me to help her find a green piece that looks like Tuvok's ear. I was about ready to give up the lesson right there, but the cargo bay doors slid open, and Commander Chakotay entered. I leaped up and apologized for the condition of the Cargo Bay. When I added, "sir," Naomi began to giggle. I don't know why. I explained I had been busy tutoring Naomi. He complimented me on my "creative approach," but I had to confess I was supposed to be writing a paper on transwarp instability. Instead, I was pursuing my own interest in genetics.

The commander went over to a very ordinary-looking cargo container. He lifted a bottle out of it and said, "Don't worry, your secret's safe -- as long as you keep mine."

Naomi was grinning, but I didn't "get it" until he said, "Antarean cider. Not the replicated stuff. There are only a few bottles left, and I don't want Neelix to get his hands on them."

I suggested he store them with the salvaged Borg components. "Neelix never inventories those containers. He says they 'give him the creeps.'"

The commander praised me, saying, "Officer-level thinking, Icheb. Would you mind?" I said I'd be happy to move the rest of the bottles into the Borg component containers for him. After he left, Naomi and I stowed them all away where Neelix would never find them.

Once we were done, Naomi informed me, "It's always a good idea to do a favor for the bosses. You never know. They might do you one in return someday." Naomi is extremely perceptive for her age. She knows the politics of Voyager much better than I do.

Just then, we felt a huge jolt. The ship rocked, the lights flickered, and then they went out for several seconds before the emergency systems kicked in. We abandoned the puzzle and contacted Naomi's mother in Sciences to find out what had just happened. Her lab monitors the bridge continuously, so they usually knew what's going on even when the rest of the crew is being kept in the dark. I guess that's a pun. I'll have to remember to tell Tom that one sometime. I forgot when I saw him at dinner. At any rate, Ensign Wildman told us Voyager had encountered some sort of space anomaly, which sent out a powerful tendril of energy towards the ship.

Fortunately, the deflector dish was set to the proper polarity frequency to repel it, although the dish was burnt out in the process. Ensign Wildman told Naomi to go to their quarters to work on her homework on PADDs until the power system stabilized. I accompanied Naomi home. Then I went to Engineering to see if I could assist with the repairs. We had to fix the deflector dish only a few weeks ago, after Iden sent a feedback pulse at Voyager and stole Lieutenant Torres.

Lieutenant Torres told me she did need my help, which gave me an excellent excuse for my paper on transwarp instability to be late. Lieutenant Torres paired me with Ensign Bristow again. She said she was pleased to hear how well we'd worked together on the deflector dish repairs when Iden abducted her. "You're a good influence on each other," she said. She was looking sternly at Ensign Bristow when she said this. I don't believe she really meant the comment for me.

While we were working, I had a chance to ask Ensign Bristow if he knew what had happened. He did. Commander Chakotay came into Engineering and told Lieutenant Torres to reroute main power to the deflector, with the polarity set to a frequency he would input. "When she asked him why, he said, 'Ever hear of a lightning rod? In about three seconds, we're going to need one.' And it turns out, we did. Maybe we need to keep spare parts for an entire deflector array in storage so we can fix it faster the next time it happens!"

I had time to think about it, and I was fairly sure I knew what happened. When I went to the mess hall to eat dinner, Tom was there. I sat at his table. For a while, all we did was eat. I'd missed a couple of my usual nutritional supplement snacks, and I was famished. From the way Tom was eating his sandwiches, it looked like he also must have missed a meal or two. After I'd eaten enough to feel like practicing my social relationship skills, I leaned over to him and said, "Let me guess. We can't talk about it, or the Federation Temporal Police will be after us."

Tom laughed. Without saying a word, he slowly drew his forefinger over his tightly-closed lips, then gave me the "thumbs up" sign. That was a good enough answer for me. We spent the rest of our meal chatting about the differences between evasive maneuvers when the ship is as big as Voyager, in comparison with shuttles the size of the Delta Flyer.

=/\=

Stardate 54399.9 Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

Seven and I detected a communication system very similar to the one this ship encountered three years ago, through which the Doctor traveled to reach the Alpha Quadrant. That was when he helped the EMH Mark-2 program defeat a Romulan force which had taken over an experimental Starfleet vessel, the Prometheus. That array was destroyed by Hirogen Hunters after the Doctor's return. Seven said this one was even older than that one was, but it was much smaller. She conjectured it may have been the model for the one that had been destroyed. The terminus passed near the coordinates which Donik had given us when he asked the captain to deliver a message to his mother, if we ever had the opportunity.

We tested the system, and it's still active. Seven contacted the captain, who came to Astrometrics to review our finding. She authorized us to forward Donik's message to Amiere, his mother. A few hours later, we received a message in return from an Ameire. The return message said only, "I am relieved to finally hear from him. Thank you."

Seven and I discussed the situation after the captain left. I expressed concern that Hirogen Hunters might try to follow our ion trail to find the holograms and Donik again. Seven pointed out that our ion trail would be negligible this long after leaving that planet, and our side trip through the Borgolis-type nebula while we studied it would have blurred our trail even further. We traveled through it for over a week and changed course radically just before we left it. Seven suggested that the reason for the change in course, as well as the study of the nebula, may have been ordered by the captain in order to disguise our true path through that sector.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Icheb knew Seven meant well, but sometimes her lessons were extremely trying. Whenever Seven went into full "Borg" mode, Icheb had to rely on the patience he'd been forced to develop when he was First's underling. Tom Paris dubbed this behavior of Seven's "Borg perfectionism," after she took issue with the fact he had not requested certain details regarding a projected flight path when he came to her about it. Voyager was taking what Tom called "pretty much a straight line heading" through a nebula. All he'd wanted to know was if the more refined equipment in Astrometrics had picked up any obstructions in their path that his instruments at the helm had failed to detect. Seven took exception to the fact he hadn't asked her to identify the exact composition of the gases in the area they were passing through. Icheb understood completely why Tom really didn't need to know anything about which elements they would encounter. Seven, of course, had another opinion.

This was one of those "perfectionist" days, too. When Icheb explained, "The Starfleet manual allows for a variance of point three," Seven wasn't satisfied.

"That's only a guideline. You can do better," Seven admonished, as she quickly moved from one warp control panel to another. Icheb shook his head slightly. Would any of his Starfleet superior officers ever be as picky as Seven of Nine? Doubtful.  

Icheb's musings were interrupted by a growled, "I don't remember giving you permission to work up here." The lift carrying the chief engineer to the upper level of Engineering, where Seven and Icheb were working, was still on the ascent as she spoke.

Icheb turned towards Lieutenant Torres and said, penitently, "I'm sorry, Lieutenant."

An unapologetic Seven shrugged her shoulders. "I'm helping Icheb study warp mechanics."

Once the lift stopped, the lieutenant stepped off and began to walk down the stairs. "You should have notified me. It's a busy day, and I . . ." Uncharacteristically, Lieutenant Torres stumbled off the final step and fell into Seven's arms.

"I'm fine," Lieutenant Torres assured them as she stood and brushed herself off. Clearly, she was not, however, as she grabbed her head and admitted she was feeling a bit woozy.

Although Icheb only had a standard tricorder available, he quickly switched it to read vital signs and ran it over the lieutenant. The reading shocked him. "I'm detecting another life-sign."

"Where?" Seven asked, looking around.

"Inside Lieutenant Torres. It could be a parasite."

Icheb handed Seven the tricorder. After she looked at the readout, her eyes opened wide, and she hit her combadge to contact the Doctor.

:::Go ahead.::: The EMH responded.

"I'll be accompanying Lieutenant Torres to Sickbay."

:::What's wrong?:::

As she looked down on the chief engineer, Seven replied, "I believe she's pregnant."

Lieutenant Torres looked as shocked as Icheb felt. Not a parasite after all, he thought with chagrin. He would have to be more detail-oriented in the future. Obviously, "Borg perfectionism" did have its place.

=/\=

When Icheb went into the mess hall for his mid-morning nutritional supplement snack, Neelix was working in the kitchen. As soon as he saw the young former Borg, he greeted him, as he usually did, with, "Icheb! Wonderful to see you! How are things going?"

"Very well," Icheb replied.

Since no one else was in the mess hall at that hour, Icheb had a chance to speak with the chef/morale officer/ambassador for several minutes. Conversing with Neelix was always easy for Icheb, sometimes too easy. He often shared things with Neelix he hadn't planned on revealing. Icheb wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but just as Icheb was about to leave, he said to Neelix, "I have a delicate question for you. Normally, I ask Tom about this type of thing, but this time, I need to ask you. It concerns single-cell sexual reproduction."

"Oh, well, I'll answer it if I can."

"Neelix, I was wondering. How do Talaxians reproduce? I couldn't find anything in our data system about your people when I checked a little while ago."

Neelix seemed somewhat flustered, but he answered, "I never thought I needed to add that sort of information into the computer, since I'm the only Talaxian on board. The Doctor has all the information he needs about me from his physical exams." Neelix paused, but the expectant look on the young former Borg's face encouraged him to continue. "Truthfully, the process is basically the same as all the humanoids on Voyager. The couple gets very close, and the male and the female . . . um." He paused, looking quite a bit more uncomfortable. "Let me clarify that. The one exception was my dear Kes. The Ocampa . . . well, the female has something called an Elogium, and she starts to eat dirt and bugs, and . . . um . . . how detailed do you want this explanation to be, anyway, Icheb? Can't Seven answer your question?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be intrusive, Neelix. If you don't want to tell me, that's okay. I do know the basic male and female process which leads to procreation and gestation. I didn't want to ask the Doctor my question, though, because he would probably want to know if I wished to become involved with someone."

"Ah, you're right. I'm sure he would. The subject has always been of great interest to him. May I ask what brought on this question of yours?"

So Icheb told Neelix what happened in Engineering.

Since he'd arrived on Voyager almost a year ago, Icheb had learned that Neelix often became enthused about unusual events, but he'd never known anyone to be so thrilled to hear about a crewmate's error before.

=/\=

A couple of days later, Icheb was working with Seven when Lieutenant Paris came to Astrometrics. "I want to thank you both for helping B'Elanna when she fainted," he said.

"I'm glad it wasn't a parasite," Seven replied, glancing in Icheb's direction. He sighed. Thanks to her eidetic memory, she would never forget his mistake. He hoped she wouldn't remind him of it too frequently. Why did he always seem to have misunderstandings like this with Lieutenant Torres? She was an officer any cadet would want to impress!

Tom didn't laugh. "Well, you probably don't know this, but there may be some problems with the pregnancy."

The jokes stopped immediately. "I'm sorry to hear that," Seven said earnestly.

"The Doctor suggested a treatment for the baby, but his findings are very confusing . . . at least to me," Tom admitted. He looked plaintively at Icheb. "You have some expertise in genetics. Do you mind taking a look at this?"

"Of course not," Icheb said, taking the proffered PADD.

While Icheb copied the data from the PADD into his console, Seven tried to reassure Tom. "Whatever the problem is, I have no doubt the Doctor will solve it."

"I hope you're right." Icheb thought Tom sounded worried.

After a couple of minutes, as Icheb watched the data reel by on the viewscreen of his console, he frowned. He opened a second screen, allowing him to convert the mathematical symbols to images of the baby's proposed DNA strand. After comparing the data screens, Icheb announced, "Lieutenant Paris, your confusion is understandable. There's a computational error."

Tom's spirits soared, but Seven said worriedly, "It's not like the Doctor to make a mistake like this."

"I didn't think that was possible," Tom agreed. "Unless . . . there's some sort of glitch in his program."

"I'll run a diagnostic," Seven informed him and turned to her own console to examine the EMH program.

Although Icheb immediately began to think of ways to fix the Doctor's computational error, he said, "Please tell Lieutenant Torres, if there's anything I can do . . ."

"I'll let her know," Tom said sincerely. "Thanks."

After a very short time, Seven straightened her back and leaned away from her console. "It appears to be more than a glitch. I believe the Doctor's program has been tampered with."

Tom quickly slapped his chest to activate his combadge. "B'Elanna, this is Tom. Respond." When there was no response, he called out, "Computer, locate Lieutenant Torres!"

:::Lieutenant Torres is in Sickbay.:::

He couldn't think of a reason either Lieutenant Torres or the Doctor would fail to answer Tom's first comm request, so Icheb was not surprised when Seven announced a few seconds later, "Someone's blocked communications to Sickbay."

Tom gritted his teeth and asked Seven if she could deactivate the Doctor.

Seven tried, but she was finally forced to admit, "Access to his program has been restricted."

The helmsman didn't look surprised to hear this, either. "Keep trying. Paris to Tuvok."

:::Go ahead.:::

"Meet me in Sickbay."

=/\=

As fast as gossip usually traveled around the ship, today Icheb heard nothing about what had happened in Sickbay. Icheb surmised that Commander Tuvok instructed his security team not to discuss the incident with anyone. Even Naomi didn't have any idea what Icheb was talking about when he asked her if she'd heard any rumors lately. The only hint he had that everything had turned out all right was the look on the couple's face when they appeared in the mess hall later that evening. Tom announced to everyone who was present, "If you've heard any rumors to the effect that there's going to be another baby on board Voyager -- they're all true! Not that anyone could possibly have heard anything from anyone in here . . ." Tom stared at Neelix when he said the last part, which caused the Talaxian's cheeks to assume an orange glow. Gaining his composure, Neelix congratulated the couple in his usual effusive way, as if he hadn't already done so when he offered them to Tom on the day the pregnancy was discovered.

Icheb had already examined the information Tom had given him in greater detail. He'd quickly realized that the changes to "treat" whatever was supposedly wrong with the baby were, in fact, designed to remove her Klingon genes. This did not appear to be a wise idea to Icheb. If anything, the baby's Klingon inheritance would be to her benefit, making her stronger physically. If all the changes indicated on the PADD were made, Icheb believed several enzymes essential for digestion could not be manufactured in the baby's body. It was unlikely the Doctor had recommended these changes, but if his program had been tampered with . . .

Wasn't Lieutenant Torres happy to be part Klingon?

Icheb realized he didn't know as much about Klingons as he did that about humans. So far, his Starfleet training had emphasized the founding races of the Federation. He resolved to look more closely into Klingon culture when he had the chance. He also wondered how difficult it might be for people who are not wholly of one species to accept all the characteristics of both of their heritages. Lieutenant Torres had a tendency to lose her temper easily, and she blamed her "Klingon side" whenever it happened. While Icheb and Seven had both been Borg, their dual heritages had been imposed upon them mechanically. It wasn't comparable to what Lieutenant Torres, Naomi, or Aimee Gilmore might face as children of different species by genetic code.

The more he thought about the question, the more interesting it became. While this didn't directly involve the science of genetics, perhaps investigating how people of mixed backgrounds felt about their dual heritage was a worthwhile subject for study.

That evening, Icheb went to Seven and asked her if she thought he should return the PADD with the proposed genetic modifications to Tom, or should he save the device for future use -- after completely erasing all the data and copying other files over the genetic inquiry. "Which course of action do you conclude would be the wisest, Icheb?" Seven asked.

"I believe erasure and reuse of the PADD would be best." Seven agreed with this decision, and Icheb complied.

=/\=

The next day, Icheb was giving Naomi a lesson in classifying a nebula by its constituent gases. While Seven was overseeing the lesson, she wasn't contributing anything to it. This was Icheb's responsibility, and he was doing it well. The lesson was almost over when Lieutenant Torres came into Astrometrics. She spoke quietly to Seven until Naomi had to leave for her next assignment. "A biology lesson with the Doctor! Ugh!"

Once Naomi was gone, Lieutenant Torres addressed them. "I came to thank you for your assistance in Engineering, when I got a little dizzy -- when you discovered my pregnancy."

"We're glad we were of service to you, Lieutenant," Seven said.

Lieutenant Torres looked up at the Astrometrics view screen, then to the side, and then to the floor -- anywhere, but at either of them -- before adding, "As for the rest . . . I . . . " She seemed to run out of words to say.

Seven relieved the awkward situation. "Don't worry, Lieutenant. Neither of us will divulge what happened when Lieutenant Paris came to us for help."

"Thank you," Lieutenant Torres answered softly, finally meeting their gazes full on. "I'm glad you found that 'computational error,' Icheb. It's something I should have . . . caught myself."

Icheb didn't know whether he should respond to this, or if he should change the subject. The lieutenant changed it for him. "So, Icheb, if you wish to work on warp mechanics in Engineering, I'm sure it will be helpful to all of us in the future. Just leave me a message before you get there, to warn me when you're coming. You know, it's better if I'm not surprised . . . especially now."

Icheb and Seven both murmured they would certainly do that, agreeing that they should have done it that time, too. Once their overlapping apologies for overstepping the chief engineer's authority were over, Seven asked her, "How are you feeling? You haven't experienced any more spells of dizziness?"

"I'm feeling great. And the baby is doing great, too. When I was in Sickbay today, I felt the baby move. It was very exciting."

"Have you picked out a name yet, Lieutenant?" Icheb said.

She sighed deeply. "Oh, no! Not you, too! I've already got such a long list of choices. Should I choose Kathryn? Frella? Taya? Floxia? Marya? Gertrude?"

"Gertrude is the name of Hamlet's mother! Who suggested that name for your baby?" Icheb asked.

"Joe Carey. But he was joking. I hope. Since everyone else seems so interested in making a suggestion, what about you two? Do you have one you want me to add to the list?"

"In my studies, I've discovered an ancient people called the Romans who named their children with numbers, like Septima and Octavia," Icheb offered, glancing towards Seven with a barely suppressed grin.

Even Seven chuckled as Lieutenant Torres said, "Good one, Icheb. I think we'll leave Septima for you to use if you ever have a child. Numbers are more your thing than Tom's or mine." She hesitated, and then added, "but I'll add Octavia to the list. Tom should get a laugh over that one."

Icheb smiled. It was nice to see Lieutenant Torres back to herself again.

The lieutenant began to take her leave from Astrometrics, but just before she reached the door, she swung back into the room. "By the way, I've noticed you call Tom by his name a lot of the time, but I'm always 'Lieutenant Torres.' Why is that, Icheb?"

"He told me once that he's 'Lieutenant Paris' at the helm, and 'Mr. Paris' in Sickbay, because that's what the Doctor calls him. But when he's off duty, he said I should call him Tom."

"That makes perfect sense. Why don't you do the same for me? When I'm off duty -- which I am right now, you can call me B'Elanna. In Engineering, I'm Lieutenant Torres. Seven, you might want to do the same. Just one of those 'human social behaviors' you're always studying, you know? There's a time and a place to be formal, and another to be casual."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Seven said formally, prompting a smile from the chief engineer. "Since I'm presently at my duty station, I prefer formality."

"Ah, of course," the chief engineer said, bemused. Turning to Icheb, she asked, "Shall I call you Cadet here, then?"

"Icheb is fine . . . B'Elanna."

After B'Elanna laughed and left, Icheb turned to Seven. "Shall I be Cadet Icheb to you when I'm on duty?" he asked.

"Unless you plan on calling me Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One whenever we are in here, I'd suggest you continue using the short form of my name."

"Until you're my mother, that is. Unless you still want to be Seven then?"

"Whatever you want to call me when that time comes will be fine with me, Icheb." From the warm expression in her eyes as she looked at him, Icheb decided it didn't really matter. She'd be his mother, and his mentor, no matter how he addressed her.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 54479.9  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

I have been thinking about what happened to the Nygean prisoners for the past few days. Seven has had a great deal of difficulty accepting what happened to Iko. We have spoken about her past as a drone, when she assimilated thousands of individuals and turned them into drones. In effect, she said, she killed them. Most of the time she is able to avoid thinking about it, but at times like this, she cannot. She cannot understand how she was exonerated of her actions by the captain, while Iko, who killed once, will have to give up his own life in compensation. Although the captain reminded her that she was sentenced by the actions of her parents to the life of a drone for twenty years, and was forced to act as she did by the Hive, Seven does not totally accept this rationalization.

Iko admitted he killed someone. He was violent and willing to kill Seven while he held her hostage in Sickbay. He was a murderer, and he was convicted according to the laws of his people. They allow the relatives of the victims to choose the sentence. Iko will die because the family of the person he killed insists upon this outcome, even though he is not the same man as he was when he killed. He had a birth defect which prevented him from having a conscience. When he was treated with Seven's nanoprobes, that defect was healed. Seven told me he was a very gentle person after treatment. He suffered severe guilt over what he had done, once he was restored to the person he should have been if he had not been born with this flaw in his brain.

It is a strange thing to contemplate. Borg nanoprobes, when injected during the assimilation of a new drone, kills that person's capacity to be anything other than a small piece of the great Borg Collective. We are pieces of machinery rather than individual biological beings. We have no capacity to actually think for ourselves or choose how to act. That was not really true of us in our Children's Collective, of course, because we were imperfectly formed drones with faulty nanoprobes, but I remember enough from my time in the maturation chamber to understand what Seven told me about being a full drone. Yet nanoprobes, with their ability to heal, returned someone who was a murderer into the person he was meant to be. This fact did not sway the family of the man he killed to agree to a different form of punishment. Iko will still be executed.

That is not the only aspect of this event I have been contemplating. Before the Nygeans boarded their transport and took the prisoners away, the crew from Commander Tuvok's Security Department worked extra shifts guarding the prisoners. Now that the Nygeans have gone back to their own people, the security people have also returned to their normal activities and duties. Angelo Tessoni, one of the Equinox "Five," was assigned to that security detail.

Naomi came to me yesterday, troubled by what she'd overheard while she was in the Gilmore quarters playing with Aimee. Mr. Tessoni came to visit Marla. Since Naomi was present, they went to another area of the quarters to talk about what might happen to them when they returned to the Alpha Quadrant. They spoke loudly, since all that had occurred while the Nygean prisoners were on board had upset them. Naomi understood what they were saying to each other, even though she does not have enhanced hearing like I do (although I understand Ktarians do have sharper hearing than humans; Naomi must take after her father in this way).

The two spoke about the atrocities in which they'd participated while serving on the Equinox. He was unhappy they went along with their superiors on the Equinox, even though they'd had little choice in the matter. Lieutenant Burke had threatened their lives if they did not cooperate, and Captain Ransom ordered them to maintain secrecy once Voyager rescued them. Burke told them they would "suffer the consequences" otherwise. Apparently, it was "cooperate or go out an airlock." They agreed that they should have risked those consequences and told Captain Janeway what had been going on, although they would still suffer punishment for using aliens as fuel. They'd supported their own commanders instead of following their consciences, even though they could finally appeal to Captain Janeway. They'd never had anyone else they could have gone to for help during their time on Equinox. Mr. Tessoni wondered what sort of punishment they might face when Voyager returns to the Alpha Quadrant.

Marla reminded him that the Federation no longer executes prisoners, but they almost certainly will be imprisoned. For herself, she accepts this as a just punishment. If it comes to a court proceeding, she would plead guilty and take whatever sentence is imposed by the courts. Marla's sister has agreed to take Aimee and raise her if anything happens to Marla and Aimee is still young enough to require care once we return to the Federation. Marla became very emotional. She admitted to Mr. Tessoni she'd considered this issue before she began the adoption process. Her love for Aimee overcame any hesitation she felt. Marla hopes she hasn't condemned her daughter to future pain, but "making sure Aimee is taken care of is the most important thing. She will always have a family, even if it isn't with me."

She told Mr. Tessoni that all they can do is work as hard as they can to cooperate with Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay, as they have been doing for the past year and a half. Since we cannot expect to arrive in the Alpha Quadrant for several years, at the earliest, Aimee will grow up in Marla's care until we arrive. The court may be lenient with them and simply throw them out of Starfleet. "And that's the least we'd deserve," Mr. Tessoni told Marla.

Naomi was very upset. She'd always known there was some sort of cloud hanging over the five, since she'd observed much of what happened when they first came on board. This was the first time she'd heard the details of what occurred on Equinox, however. (Mezoti told me much of the story after she'd hacked into the ship's logs, so it wasn't a big surprise to me.) Naomi found it hard to believe Marla and the others had done what she'd heard them admit to.

"Icheb, I always wanted to get home so I could spend a little time with my father while I was still growing up, even though it meant I'd lose my 'Voyager family' if we did. But I want Aimee to live with Marla until she's all grown up." I assured Naomi we would speak up for them when we returned home. Perhaps it would help them avoid prison. I also told her that our situation on Voyager is so unique, we will always be closer and part of a Voyager "family," even after we return to the Alpha Quadrant. We talked it over until she calmed down. I changed the subject and we spoke a while about other things before she went home to her family's quarters.

After Naomi left, I couldn't stop thinking about what happened on the Equinox. It's hard to imagine Noah Lessing willingly participating in mass murder -- or Jim and Brian, or Marla and Angelo. They admitted it; but, like Tom Paris, they seem to be trying to redeem themselves for their past crimes. I have never heard about any complaints about their behavior since I came on board. Commander Tuvok would never have assigned Mr. Tessoni to his security team if he had any questions about his suitability for such tasks.

From my Academy studies, I know the defense of "I only followed orders" generally is not considered acceptable, but the situation which Voyager and Equinox found themselves in is unprecedented, as far as I've been able to discover. For years, both ships traveled through the Delta Quadrant totally out of contact with anyone in the Federation to whom their crews could appeal when superior officers ordered them to act against their consciences. On Voyager, the crew was fortunate. Captain Janeway followed Starfleet procedures to the best of her ability. I know she's made a couple of questionable decisions, as I discovered from reading the logs, but compared to the way Captain Ransom and Lieutenant Burke acted in similar situations, she's upheld the very high standards Starfleet expects in a captain. If Mr. Tessoni and Marla and the others had appealed to the captain for sanctuary after Voyager discovered them, I believe leniency might be offered upon our return to the Alpha Quadrant. But they kept silent, and they helped steal a multiphasic shielding device Seven had built, leaving the crew of Voyager vulnerable to alien attacks. Three of them died as a result. I don't believe the five serving here expected or wanted that to happen, but those are the facts.

While I enjoy my Starfleet training session with Commander Tuvok and the rest of the staff, I've always wanted to get to the Alpha Quadrant sooner, rather than later. I sometimes dream of attending classes on the Academy campus in San Francisco. But if it means Aimee can grow up with Marla Gilmore, the mother who loves her, I would be willing to travel for twenty years or more before arriving "home." I don't want to see anyone go to prison for what they did under duress. As long as we're still traveling in the Delta Quadrant, that won't happen.

Then, too, I have the death of the alien freighter captain on my conscience. Maybe I've only got one death, compared to the thousands Seven is upset about, but one is enough. I'll never forget that man. I wouldn't have followed First's orders if I'd known we were bound to fail, no matter what we did, because our nanoprobes were not "cooked" enough to assimilate him properly. I'm afraid that's not a very good rationale either. I must live with any punishment I may be subject to in the future because of my actions on our Children's Collective cube. I hope this won't cause me to be rejected by Starfleet once we finally do get to the Alpha Quadrant.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

"Watch out, Icheb!"

A body flew across the corridor, mere centimeters away from slamming into Icheb as he dodged a step backward.

The body belonged to Ensign Harry Kim. The warning had come from Neelix. And Mr. Kim's growling attacker was Ch'Rega, the Klingon warrior woman who had been actively pursuing Harry Kim for the past few days. She favored Icheb with an intense glare as he moved backwards another step. Raising both hands, palms outward, to show he bore nothing remotely like a weapon, Icheb nodded formally to her and walked to the other side of the corridor, passing Neelix, who gazed raptly at the tall Klingon woman.

Before Icheb had moved very far down the hallway, Neelix caught up to him. "Isn't she magnificent?" Neelix chortled.

"She is an impressive female," Icheb acknowledged. "However, I don't believe Ensign Kim is as drawn to her as she seems to be towards him."

Neelix shook his head. "I don't understand it. He often talks about wanting a relationship, but here he is, presented with a wonderful opportunity to experience the full flower of Klingon womanhood -- passionate, eager -- and he doesn't seem to care about her at all!"

"Tom and B'Elanna say he seems to pursue women who are unattainable. Ch'Rega has made it very clear she's interested in Ensign Kim. She's attainable. Perhaps that's the problem."

"You might be right, Icheb." They'd arrived at the turbolift and Neelix pushed the call signal. "Are you getting onto the lift, too, Icheb?" he asked.

"No, I'm going to Cargo Bay Two. Perhaps I should call it 'Klingon Central' for the duration of this trip, until we arrive at their new planet." Icheb's smile was brief and, perhaps, a little forced.

"Ah. How are things going there? Only three families, right?"

"That's all we could accommodate. They offered to dismantle more of our regeneration cubicles to make room for another family, but the captain agreed with Seven. Ten extra cots was enough for the space."

"It's a bit crowded, I realize that. I gave up my own quarters to a family, you know. I'm bunking in with Mr. Vulcan."

"Yes, I am aware," Icheb said, forcing himself not to grin while Neelix was still standing in front of him. Fortunately, he didn't have to maintain a serious façade for long. The turbolift arrived and Neelix was off, doing whatever he was doing today. The Talaxian was a very busy man. Icheb's grin appeared when the thought struck him that he might be going to those quarters he was sharing with "Mr. Vulcan." An odder couple Icheb could not imagine.

=/\=

Icheb actually was pleased to have a chance to observe the Klingons who were traveling on Voyager. The only Klingons he'd ever met before this were Korok, the former Borg who had helped Voyager's crew rescue their away team during the Unimatrix Zero incident; and, of course, he was quite friendly now with B'Elanna.

Ever since he'd been the first to discover B'Elanna's pregnancy and its aftermath, when he'd evaluated the fetal DNA pattern and helped Tom prevent his wife from changing their baby's genome, he'd become closer to the couple. B'Elanna appreciated that Icheb "knew how to keep his own counsel." In other words, he'd never gossiped about what had happened. Icheb had long understood she hated being the subject of rumors. He'd wondered if this was a Klingon trait or a part of her human personality, since she was only half Klingon. Now that he'd had the chance to observe the full-blooded variety, who seemed to "let it all hang out," as Tom put it, virtually all the time, Icheb realized just how unique B'Elanna was. He also saw how very good Tom Paris was for his wife. Tom accepted her completely. He loved her for her Klingon side as much as her human one.

Icheb was pleased he was also valued by Tom as a close friend. Tom had always been easy for Icheb to converse with. He answered questions about humanity -- and human frailties -- honestly. As much as Icheb loved Seven (even though they still didn't say the "love" word much), some subjects were easier for him to discuss with a man. Becoming an individual was an ongoing process, and Tom was as good a mentor as Seven in many ways, and better in some.

One of these areas was, of course, single-cell reproduction. Icheb had diligently studied the database, as he'd been advised to do by many crew members, but he didn't have any true memories of the process. Seven had once indicated she did from the memories of the assimilated, but from a conversation he'd had with Tom some time ago, Icheb doubted she really understood. While he understood the mechanics of the process from his studies, he didn't have the benefit of a full complement of Borg drone memories. He wondered what it felt like. Tom told him, simply, "I can't explain that part to you, Icheb. When you get into a relationship with someone, then you'll find out."

"It's not something you can describe?"

"Icheb, there's an abundance of literature about the subject, and I can honestly say that while it's fun to read about it, the only way to really know is to experience it. Besides, if you're not in love with the person you're with, you still won't get the whole picture. Be patient, Icheb. You're young. You'll find someone someday, and I promise you, it will be glorious! But do me a favor. Don't start hanging outside our quarters and taking notes about how often or how long we enjoy ourselves. That won't tell you anything."

"Did Seven actually DO that?"

"Oh, yes she did! I had to hold B'Elanna back or she would've been in the brig for assault." Tom was shaking his head when he said this to Icheb, but he was laughing, too. Icheb remembered when Seven once told him Tom and B'Elanna were "sensitive" about talking about their relationship and single-cell reproduction when he'd first came on board Voyager. Tom's comment put it all into context for Icheb.

Icheb guessed that Ensign Kim's reluctance to become involved with Ch'Rega might have something to do with his desire for an ongoing relationship. She was pretty, but she was also very aggressive. Harry wasn't the aggressive type, and he didn't seem to appreciate it in others that much, either. Besides, Ch'Rega and the Klingon sect were only going to be on board a short while. They'd been traveling from the Alpha Quadrant for over a hundred years, searching for a new home where they could uphold their traditional Klingon values -- something they felt other Klingons had failed to do. Their scrolls foretold they would find a savior on their travels, a kuvah-magh, who was "younger than old age, and stronger than sickness." Apparently the Klingons hadn't found their kuvah-magh yet, and they were almost at the planet. Icheb wondered if that part of their prophecy would ever occur.

=/\=

Stardate 54528.9   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

Voyager is in orbit over the new home of the Klingons. A lot of us have already sampled a shore leave of sorts on this planet. The Klingons tried to take over Voyager. They planned to steal our ship and leave our crew here. They transported most of us down to the planet, including me. It's a planet much more suited to Klingons than to humans, or Brunali, for that matter. Fortunately, the bridge crew was able to hold onto the ship and prevent the takeover.

What finally made the Klingons accept settling here was the curing of the nehret, a disease all of the Klingons carried in their DNA. They failed to disclose this problem to Captain Janeway when they sabotaged their own ship and came on board Voyager. I guess I was wrong about Klingons being honest and "letting it all hang out," as Tom called it. When it comes to strategic matters, they are very capable of keeping a secret. Thanks to T'Greth, I learned they could be duplicitous as well. He was the one who planned the takeover of the ship. Kohlar, the leader of the Klingons, did not cooperate with him.

The nehret was cured because of Tom and B'Elanna's baby. She really is their savior, the kuvah-magh they were looking for all along. Some of the Klingons had rejected the possibility she could be their savior. T'Greth  called her a "mongrel child" because she is three quarters human. However, I spoke with the Doctor, right after B'Elanna and the baby became carriers of the disease once they'd been exposed to the illness. I suggested the baby's human genome might be utilized to formulate a cure. The Doctor, as usual, has taken all the credit for it, even though I did prompt his "hunch" for a way to proceed. I also worked to develop the treatment with him until I was snatched away from the lab and transported to the planet's surface by T'Greth. I will allow the Doctor to take the credit, however, since he did finish the antivirus by himself. Kohlar came to me to compliment me on my "assistance" with the cure, so I guess the EMH was honest with him regarding our working together on it.

I have read about how important honor is to Klingons, and in Kohlar I see how it works. T'Greth, the Klingon who rejected B'Elanna and the baby's aid until he himself was cured by them, is not a sterling example of the Klingon honor principle, although he did apologize to Tom and B'Elanna before being transported to his new home on the surface. I hope he doesn't cause problems for Kohlar and the rest of the group when they build their new colony. After all the trouble he caused I would not trust him.

Ensign Kim was not sorry to see Ch'Rega go. Neelix was. It's very amusing to think of Neelix, who is very small and un-Klingon-like in personality, sweeping the very tall, imposing Ch'Rega off her feet, but that's what he did. I never realized before how well Neelix can absorb a culture's attitudes and traditions and use them for his own purposes -- in this case, a very . . . vigorous romantic interlude. I understand why he's become so important to everyone on Voyager. He sees a need and then transforms himself to fill it. When he said he was going to miss Ch'Rega, I realized how lonely he must be. He's the only Talaxian on board, and as we travel towards the Alpha Quadrant, his home planet is falling further behind all the time. Everyone on Voyager likes him, but he wants his own people. Perhaps he will find someone in the future who will be willing to stay with him all the way to the Alpha Quadrant. I'd like to see that. He deserves to find happiness, but in the meantime, I'm glad he had fun with Ch'Rega -- even though "Mr. Vulcan" was very glad when Neelix went back to his own quarters. I heard Chell say that the commander had to "fumigate" his quarters after Neelix left. I'm not sure why, exactly. All Seven and I had to do was take out all the cots once our families left us.

Seven and I are glad to have Cargo Bay Two to ourselves again, as our personal "Borg Central." Seven characterized our Klingon experience as "illuminating." She said she never fully appreciated how "human" B'Elanna was before meeting the Klingons. I decided it was an interesting and educational experience -- but I'm glad it's over.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 54553.2 Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

I haven't been able to spare the power for a log entry since we entered the Void. I needed to give my entire allotment to Seven so she could regenerate while Voyager was in gray mode. Now that we're out of the Void, I find I don't have that much to say about it. The captain found a way to convince the crews of other ships which were also stuck inside to cooperate with us. By working together, we managed to get out of the Void and into normal space. That's as much as I really want to remember about this experience.

When we were lost inside the Void, and it looked like we would never get out, I was glad Mezoti wasn't with us. Considering how she reacted to some of the events when she was on board, I think she would have been very upset when we were stuck in there. She wouldn't have liked being transported down to the surface of a planet when the Klingons tried to take over Voyager, either. At times like this I'm glad she's safe on Wysanti with Azan and Rebi, but I miss her very much.

I guess I always will.

=/\=

Despite his disappointment about his employment status, Icheb liked working at the daycare center. While he didn't have a lot of memories from before emigrating to Quarra, he knew his only experience with babies had been with his foster sister Aimee. He'd traveled to Quarra with Aimee and Marla Gilmore, along with Samantha Wildman and her daughter Naomi. The families had come to this planet to find work, since the opportunities for advancement were so much better on Quarra than on Brunal. He was happy Naomi Wildman was assigned to the day care center to spend her after school hours. She was still very young to stay in the Wildman's apartment by herself. Besides, the day care center was a good place to be. He'd discovered all the little children were fun to play with, and Naomi said she enjoyed her work there as a childcare-aide-in-training, too.

Icheb hadn't qualified for work in the power plant. He'd thought he would, since he had a lot of technical knowledge, but once the family arrived on Quarra, they found out that because of the radioactivity present in the plant, there was a minimum age requirement to work there. He wouldn't meet that standard for another half-annual rotation. While he waited, Icheb was gaining additional training in power plant technology. He'd wanted to earn a salary to help support the family. He didn't want to depend upon his foster family forever. Because of the severe labor shortage on Quarra, the day care center's director Varin Leothos had begged Icheb to work with them while he took his courses at night. Marla agreed.

The Gilmores lived in the same building as Naomi and Sam Wildman. Sam often cooked for everyone. Sharing meals was very pleasurable. It seemed right, somehow. Once Icheb reached the age to qualify for a position in the plant and he had more money to spend, he promised himself that he'd take all of them out to dinner at least once an eightday, to pay them back for their kindness towards him. He knew he had to be an orphan, since his facial features were different from the rest of his family. Actually, it seemed all of the children must be orphans, since none of them resembled their mothers exactly.

As soon as they arrived on Quarra Icheb began to experience odd dreams and the disquieting feeling that "something wasn't right." He couldn't figure out exactly what that might be, but until he did, he wanted to make sure little Aimee was safe during the hours they were at the center. 

Most of his work days were spent feeding toddlers, changing diapers, and playing with the little children in the nursery. After midday nap time, he read stories to older children, but he always made sure he knew exactly where Aimee was every single time unit. Once Naomi arrived after school he could relax a little, since she always looked out for Aimee, too. The children's books really fascinated him. It was strange, but he couldn't remember reading any stories from his own childhood. Dr. Kadan told him there had been an accident with the ship transporting them from Brunal to Quarra, and that was probably why his early memories had been disrupted.

One day he saw a person walking by the center who seemed familiar. When he asked, he found out it was Annika Hansen, the new efficiency monitor for the plant. He asked Marla if she remembered her, too, but Marla didn't. After that day, Icheb always looked out for Annika Hansen when her shift ended. He finally decided the reason she was familiar to him had to do with her metal facial plates, which were very similar to his. When he learned she'd started work at the plant on the same day Marla and Samantha did, he realized they probably met on their ship. Annika must have been damaged in the ship's accident, too.

=/\=

A day came when everything changed. Director Leothos approached him in the middle of the afternoon. She told Icheb that she'd received information about his family earlier that day. He needed to bring his sister and Naomi Wildman to the Gilmore apartment until Marla and Samantha arrived home from their shift. An Inspector Yerid would take them to the apartment. Once they arrived, he planned to assign a member of his staff to remain with them until their mothers came home.

As it turned out, Icheb, Aimee, and Naomi had barely entered the home when their mothers walked in. Icheb was surprised to see the efficiency monitor from the plant enter with Marla and Samantha. Inspector Yerid hadn't left yet. He stayed and told them a fantastic story about how their memories had been tampered with, and that they weren't who they thought they were. Icheb wasn't sure what to think, but he became really confused when Annika Hansen came over to him and said, "Icheb, Marla Gilmore isn't your mother. I am."

Icheb examined her face intently. Close up, the metal plates did seem to be very much like the one on his nose. "I admit you seem familiar to me, but I'm sure Marla is my mother."

"Think back, Icheb. Close your eyes. There's a huge space ship, in the shape of a cube. It's a Borg vessel. The corridors had many mechanical projections. The lights shone green and there was a lot of mist floating by."

Since Icheb had always been obedient, he closed his eyes and tried to access his memories. And there they were. "We were dressed in leather and metal implants. I didn't have hair on my head like I do now. Six of Six . . . " He opened his eyes and saw little Aimee in her mother's arms. "Aimee! She almost died! And First did die!" He glanced at Annika. "You came. You rescued us. Seven . . . Where are the others? Where is Mezoti? And Azan and Rebi?"

She gently clasped her hand on his shoulder. It was the arm with Borg appliances still supporting implants within her arm, he realized. She said softly, soothingly, "They're all right, Icheb. Several months ago we left them on a planet a long way from here. Mezoti is safe with Azan and Rebi. They live with the boys' grandparents. But we need to go back to Voyager so we can get the rest of our memories back and resume our journey to the Alpha Quadrant."

"Wait. You're not taking Icheb away from us! Aimee and I need him!" Marla cried out, holding her daughter close and stepping between Icheb and Annika, to keep him safe with her.

"Marla Gilmore, Icheb is my adopted son, but Aimee really is your adopted daughter. You belong on Voyager, too. And so do you, Ensign Samantha Wildman, and you, too, Naomi Wildman. We all belong there. A lot of the people who are on Quarra were stolen by pirates and really belong someplace else. Our ship mates have been searching for us for the past few weeks. Now we're found. We're all going home. To Voyager."

=/\=

"How are you doing, Icheb?" Lieutenant Torres asked, putting down her lunch tray as she took the seat across from his in the mess hall.

'B'Elanna asked how I'm doing,' Icheb thought, as she sat down. 'That's what I should be thinking. It might take a while before I feel comfortable calling her by the name she told me I'd used for her in recent months.'

"My memories are returning, but slowly," Icheb replied aloud, before taking a chip from his nutritional supplement nacho plate. He liked watching the cheese strings stretch out as he lifted the chip towards his mouth. This was a treat he didn't get while on Quarra. The Doctor had prescribed extra nutritional supplements for the next week to strengthen his body systems.

After taking a few bites of her own lunch, the lieutenant asked, "Are you reading your Personal Log, Icheb? That's helped Tom and me remember. Look at the ship's official visual logs, too. That will bring a lot back."

"Yes, I have. And the Doctor has been letting me view his image library."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Wonderful. He's found a captive audience. I'll bet it's even worse than one of his 'educational' slide shows."

Icheb felt his mouth quirk up in a slight smile. "It is helpful to me, though. I haven't been on Voyager very long, so the captain is not allowing him to show me images of any stardates from before my arrival on the ship."

"Be thankful for small favors! He wanted to show me five years' worth of pictures when I got back! Since I was the only one he was treating at the time, he really took advantage." Icheb noted that she seemed more amused than upset, despite her words.

"Is it true? Your husband Tom was kind to you while you were on Quarra?"

"Yes, it's true. We were drawn to each other. He said he wanted to find the guy who left me alone and pregnant and punch him on the nose. Little did he know at the time he would've had to punch himself in the nose! I guess the feelings we have for each other were always there, despite what that witch doctor Kadan did to our memories."

"I think that's true. I felt something wasn't quite right from the first day I was on the planet. I always made sure I knew where Aimee was the entire time we were in the center. I knew I needed to protect her if anything happened. Naomi, too, when she came by after school."

"You know, Tom offered to link me up with some other couples who were having babies, and he told me once about this woman with a baby who could recommend a child care center to me when I needed one. Was that your center?"

"Probably. We took care of a lot of babies there. I'm very qualified now in changing diapers, so when your baby comes, I can babysit her."

"Good to know, Icheb!" B'Elanna laughed. It came to him then that she didn't usually laugh a lot, possibly because she kept a close rein on her Klingon nature. It was nice to see her happy.

"Tom's memories are coming back, too?"

"Personal Log entries and pictures are helping him, too, but I think the best therapy for him is the TV set I built him. He's watching 2D Bugs Bunny cartoons and action adventure stories half the night! Maybe he should have gotten a job in that day care center, too."

"He was a successful bartender, I heard."

"Yes. Lots of opportunities to flirt. I can't say I blame him. He's always been a charmer, and we didn't remember each other down there. He did what came naturally. He was insubordinate and started a fight in the plant that got him fired the first day he was there!"

"Tom knows a lot about technical things, but he's a pilot, not an engineer."

"Very true." B'Elanna smiled indulgently at Icheb. That was the right emotion, he was sure it was. He was starting to get the subtle things back. He'd only been back on board for a few days, but he was eager to get to where he'd been before being stolen by the Quarrens. That prompted another thought. "Lieutenant Torres. B'Elanna," he corrected himself. "We weren't the only people who were stolen by the Quarrens, were we?"

B'Elanna sighed deeply and took a sip of her prune juice before replying, "No, thousands were taken by the pirates and had their memories altered by Kadan. They'd been at it for several years before they stole us. The man the captain was friends with -- Jaffen -- said he'd really come for the job opportunities, but there were others who were eager to go back to their real homes. They were just travelers, like us, who were abducted. Many of them had families who had no idea what had happened to them. It's very sad, really. I hope the ones who want to go home actually get there. And the Quarrens will have a real problem staffing their power plants now, since they're losing so many employees at once."

Icheb had heard the captain had been a lot more than just friends with Jaffen, but he didn't think it was a good thing to mention that to the lieutenant at that moment. "Maybe some will decide to stay to help out anyway, for a little while, at least."

B'Elanna shrugged, then waved to someone coming from behind Icheb. He turned and saw Tom speaking with Neelix and choosing his own lunch from the chef's offerings. Icheb started to pick up his tray. He still had some of his nachos left, as well as most of his shake, but he thought he should move to another table to give the couple some privacy. B'Elanna stopped him. "Don't get up, Icheb. I'm sure Tom would like to get the chance to visit with you again, too. It's nice to have a simple meal with friends -- especially now that we know who those friends really are!"

"To help us remember?" Icheb replied.

B'Elanna smiled. "Yes. Just chalk it up to some memory therapy."

When Tom arrived at the table and they chatted easily over some of the less consequential details of ordinary life on Voyager, Icheb knew B'Elanna had been right. Visiting with friends was therapeutic now that they were all back home. No wonder sharing meals with the Gilmores and the Wildmans when they were on Quarra had always seemed so right to Icheb.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 54684.7   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

Since our return from Quarra, Seven's behavior has perplexed me. She spends a great many hours of off-duty time on the holodeck. When I ask her what she's doing, or if I offer to join her in a program, she's been unwilling to let me come with her. She won't share any information about her activities. While I've respected her privacy and tried not to press her too vigorously for an explanation, it seems very strange she's so unwilling to tell me what she is doing, especially since she doesn't seem to fully benefit from her time there. She seems more distant and distracted after she leaves the holodeck than she was before entering it.

This is very different from the way I feel when I experience a program with Tom, B'Elanna, Harry, or Naomi. The only negative about leaving a program and returning to my regular duties is that I always wish the activity could have continued longer. That's one reason I usually go there with a friend. We can pool our holodeck credits and prolong our experience. My friends say this is perfectly normal. Tom told me one day that since I study hard and take my duties very seriously, I should unwind every now and then. "You need to spend some time having fun, Icheb," he said. "A young guy like you can learn a lot about life that way. It doesn't all come from computer programs and books."

B'Elanna feels the same way. She pointed out that in this area of space, we haven't found many opportunities to take shore leave safely. Quarra may have been a break from our normal routine, but once we found out we'd been abducted and deceived by people who knew how we got there and exploited us, it created stress instead of relieving it. (I'm glad the director of my day care center, Varin Leothos, wasn't one of them. In fact, before we left Quarra, I found out Director Leothos was also an alien abductee.  Until Chakotay alerted Inspector Yerid's team about what had happened to Voyager's crew, she'd never suspected she hadn't come to Quarra voluntarily.)

To get back to my point about utilizing holodeck programs, I remembered today that Lieutenant Reginald Barclay has a history of holodeck addiction, which sometimes has interfered with his duties. Despite this, he's a very capable officer who, among other accomplishments, developed the Pathfinder communication system that enables us to maintain contact with the Alpha Quadrant. I investigated the condition in the Starfleet database. This is what I discovered:

"Holodeck addiction (often contracted as holodiction) is a psychological condition in which a person becomes so consumed by engaging in holographic simulations that the real world becomes unimportant. While many individuals become entranced by the holodeck when first exposed to its imagery, only a very small proportion continue to abuse the technology for long periods of time. Those who do, who become nonfunctional in their everyday lives, often have underlying psychological issues which must be treated before the holodiction itself can be dealt with successfully. (See also: delusional thinking; schizophrenia; low self-esteem; fantasizing; withdrawal from social discourse)"

I was relieved to read this definition in the database. Seven is not schizophrenic or delusional. B'Elanna has often complained about her "superior Borg attitude," which is incompatible with low self-esteem. Seven isn't the most sociable person on this ship, but I understand that. This is something the Borg instilled in both of us that we both struggle to overcome. She cannot be considered an abuser of the technology -- far from it. In all her time on Voyager she's never used her entire allotment of holodeck hours. According to Tom and B'Elanna, the captain often encourages her to take some time and learn to "play." Captain Janeway feels she would benefit from allowing her imagination to run free in order to enhance her creativity. Fantasizing is a necessary aspect of creativity. Perhaps that's all she is doing, and I'm wrong to worry so much about it. Despite the many hours she's been spending recently in the holodeck, Seven still has almost a thousand hours of holodeck time due her.

But I still can't understand why, when I've mentioned I wouldn't mind accompanying her to one of her programs, she continues to sidestep the question and utilizes her time completely on her own. I'm afraid one of the reasons she escapes to the holodecks is because she's reconsidered her offer to adopt me and is reluctant to inform me of this decision. She isn't that much older than me, even though she seems much more mature. Perhaps I need to let her know that if she decides she doesn't wish to complete the court process, I would understand. It would make me very sad if she didn't choose to continue the process, however. With Mezoti gone, Seven is the only family I have left.

=/\=

After he finished dictating his log entry, Icheb was at loose ends. Again. He found it very strange to spend so many evenings in "Borg Central" by himself, even when Seven was not assigned to a duty shift in Astrometrics. When he'd mentioned this to Harry Kim a few days ago, Harry told Icheb that separating from parental figures and socializing with his own friends was part of growing up. He considered adding this comment to his log but left his entry as is. He decided he'd covered the subject adequately through Tom's comments.

Icheb now often chose to spend extra time in Engineering, where he was always made to feel welcome whenever he volunteered to help the staff. Although it would be a few months before B'Elanna delivered her baby, everyone was aware of the need to be able to function as independently as possible while she was on "maternity leave." Tom said he doubted she'd be able to stay away completely. He often joked she'd be down there, "supervising" her staff with their baby on her hip. Icheb believed working there was good for his development as a future officer in Starfleet, however. Joe Carey, who was usually in charge during Beta shift, always had some project or other for Icheb to complete. Icheb felt his understanding of Federation engineering and the Borg technologies which Seven and Ensign Kim had used to strengthen Voyager's capabilities were greatly enhanced through his lessons with Joe.

Still, Icheb missed having the chance to converse with Seven about their daily experiences. Previously, they'd shared so much. He'd love to talk about what it was like for her when she was the "efficiency monitor" on Quarra, but she never wanted to discuss it with him. Icheb still had so much to learn about living as an individual. Now that his days as a functional Borg formed only a small portion of his history, he felt Seven was the only person who could fully comprehend his personal journey. It was an experience they shared.

He spent a lot of time with Naomi, of course, since he acted as one of her tutors, but also because she was the only other "kid" on board he could socialize with. Aimee was just a toddler. Naturally, he spent time with her, too, especially after caring for her so closely on Quarra. While Marla was working, Naomi and Icheb often babysat Aimee together. They enjoyed seeing the little girl beginning to develop her own distinctive personality. While Aimee's vocabulary was still extremely limited, they could see her starting to understand concepts like "up" and "down" and "behind" as they played Hide and Seek and Peek-a-Boo games with her.

Naomi called Aimee a "baby scientist." It was fun to watch Aimee stare seriously at her toys when they fell after she knocked them over the edge of a table. Naomi informed Icheb, "She's experimenting. Just like Sir Isaac Newton, she's discovered gravity!" and he realized it was true. In a way, every child must "discover gravity," as well as other scientific principles, by observing their world and testing their own hypotheses with little "experiments" like these, even though their vocabulary was still insufficient to express to anyone else the conclusions they'd reached.

Ever since Quarra, Icheb had become very protective of Aimee. He still thought of her as his little sister. In a sense, that's what she was. To him she would always be Six of Six as well as Aimee Gilmore, although she would find becoming an individual a much easier transition than the rest of their "Collective." She'd essentially begun the process on the day she was born. He doubted Aimee would remember being Borg. Only a couple of remaining implants showed on the surface of her body to mark her connection to the Collective.

Icheb and Naomi often talked about his "missing Borg siblings." Naomi had never completely gotten over losing her friend Mezoti any more than Icheb had. He still considered Mezoti his "true" sister. They often speculated on whether or not Azan and Rebi had learned to include Mezoti within their tight relationship. Although Icheb always assured Naomi that, by now, Mezoti was surely happy in her family life, at times he worried she might still be excluded by the twins. The last time they'd spoken together over subspace, Mezoti SAID she was happy with the Wysanti, but when Icheb reviewed the few letters he'd received before Voyager was too far away to communicate with her, he noticed they were primarily filled with references to her studies. Other than Mazani and Arebi, the only person she spoke about consistently was her school teacher. She'd never identified a school friend by name. Azan and Rebi were mentioned only briefly, in passing. She'd never mentioned taking part in any activities with them.

He might not be able to communicate through a cortical node anymore, but Icheb knew Mezoti very well from the time they still could. What she hadn't said disturbed him greatly. It wasn't something he wished to speak about with Naomi, however. For that, he needed reassurance that only Seven could provide.

And she was never around.

=/\=

At first, the energy discharges picked up on long range sensors seemed to be an intriguing puzzle, tantalizing to a captain who was always eager to explore unexplained phenomenon. They didn't appear to pose a threat to Voyager. Their position was almost six light years ahead of the ship, and everyone on the bridge assumed that was a safe distance away. Seven had been indulging in one of her holodeck programs when she was summoned to Astrometrics to examine the problem with Captain Janeway, Tom Paris, and Tuvok.

 "We weren't able to determine what they are," Tom reported to Icheb, B'Elanna, and Harry at dinner a few hours later, "but we did discover this neighborhood is full of metallic debris and unusually high amounts of subspace radiation. We'll have to navigate through it very carefully for the next week or so."

Unexplained phenomenon fascinated Cadet Icheb as well. "I'll spend more time in Astrometrics to investigate this mystery," Icheb said. "I'll let you know if I find out anything."

"That sounds like a good plan," B'Elanna replied. "I'd rather not spend a lot of time crawling through Voyager's innards to repair her right now." Ruefully, she looked down at her swelling abdomen.

Icheb had to smile as the image of a very pregnant Chief Engineer crawling through the narrow Jeffries tubes rose up in his mind's eye. "If you need my assistance, I'll be happy to do the crawling and repairing for you," he offered. "I'm sure the captain and Seven will authorize me to help you. It will be good experience. I can write a paper about it for the Academy."

"Extra credit papers can wait, Icheb. I'd rather you found the cause before there's any damage to the ship!" Harry exclaimed. "The captain will probably send me down to help with diagnostics, which means I'll have to do a lot of that crawling with you!"

Everyone laughed, but Icheb was to remember the conversation later as another case of "famous last words."

=/\=

When Tom came to Astrometrics to invite Seven to the 'surprise' baby shower, he invited Icheb to come, too. Icheb was secretly flattered, although what he verbalized was, "Isn't this what is generally called a 'hen party?' Shouldn't only the female friends attend?"

Tom laughed and responded, "Not on Voyager it isn't! We're all one big happy family on this ship, aren't we? And family members all get to attend a family party."

"Then I'll be happy to come. Do you have any suggestions for a gift for the baby?"

"Why don't you discuss it with Seven. With your combined Borg brain power, I'm sure you'll come up with something great for our little girl." Tom replied. While Tom was speaking to both of them, Seven never said whether or not she'd come. As Icheb halfway expected, after he'd wrapped up his gifts of replicated children's picture books for the baby (which he'd researched by himself, since Seven was never available whenever he wanted to talk to her about presents), he attended the shower on his own. She never showed up for the party.

Even though her absence made Icheb feel a bit out of sorts while he walked to the mess hall, once he arrived, he was swept up in the joy of everyone who was attending the festivities. As always, they had that "touch of the Delta Quadrant," thanks to Neelix, that a baby shower on Earth wouldn't have had. "No one in the Alpha Quadrant has ever had the dubious opportunity to enjoy Spicy Leola Root Crudités a la Neelix," Tom laughingly explained. He seemed to be having just as much fun as B'Elanna when they opened the presents. Everyone was twitting Tom about having to change the diapers Harry presented to the couple. "What are you talking about? I've changed plenty of diapers in my time, right, Sam and Naomi?"

Poor Naomi blushed crimson, but Sam agreed Tom was a "great babysitter," which Marla Gilmore seconded. "And Icheb has turned into a fantastic changer of diapers, too," Marla added, which made Icheb's face feel flushed, even though he knew it was true. He'd become an expert, thanks to his work at the day care center, as well as being part of their "family" on Quarra.

B'Elanna and Tom were both enthused by the books he'd picked out for the baby. A couple were classic toddler picture books, "Good Night, Moon" and "Flotter Meets Trevis." He'd also replicated a couple of Winnie the Pooh books, which he'd taken the time to read before wrapping them. Icheb enjoyed the rustle and the feel of the pages as he turned each leaf over after he'd read it. He had no memory of being read to by his birth parents from his own early childhood days. For all he knew, the entire Brunali library of children's books had been destroyed by the Borg during the attacks which had devastated that civilization. Of course, from the way she'd treated him during his brief return to his home planet, it was possible his mother hadn't bothered to read to him when he was young. Icheb had enjoyed reading books to the children at the day care center on Quarra, however, which led him to explore the ones in Voyager's database. During the baby shower he regaled Tom by reciting excerpts from the Pooh books from memory -- when he wasn't quoting Shakespeare and other authors he'd discovered through his Academy literature course.

"I love it, Icheb! You can come read to our little one any time," Tom said, applauding one of his efforts. Icheb was very pleased.

Icheb had a good time at the baby shower. It would have been a great time if Seven had joined in the fun, but once he left the party he was on his own again.

=/\=

Icheb had to make good on his promise to help with repairs to Voyager after more of the still-unexplained energy discharges and the shockwaves they generated damaged Voyager. When, as Harry had predicted, Icheb crawled with him through various Jeffries tubes to complete a long list of diagnostics and repairs B'Elanna had assigned them, Harry described what had happened on the bridge after the ship's warp drive was knocked out. "Chakotay tried to relieve the tension on the bridge by saying, 'If they are weapons, they don't seem to be directed at us.' And then the captain answered him with: 'Or whoever's firing them is a lousy shot.'"

Icheb's response was a weak chuckle. Without warp drive, they couldn't get the ship out of the path of weapon fire very easily. It was no laughing matter.

As that day wore on, Seven confirmed the energy discharges were warheads emerging through a subspace barrier, which is why they'd been so difficult to detect. She'd measured subtle gravimetric distortions when the warheads burst into normal space, but until the Astrometrics sensors were recalibrated to isolate the effect before emergence, Voyager would continue to be vulnerable. Icheb showed up early for his duty shift to help Seven develop a warning system, but she didn't praise him for his efforts as he hoped. She obviously trusted him to do his work well, though, since she left him on his own in Astrometrics without telling him where she was going.

The next day, when Seven strolled into Astrometrics several minutes late after Icheb had worked on his own all night, Chakotay was there to meet her, too. Icheb played them an automated warning beacon he'd discovered. :::You have entered subspace munitions range 4-3-4. Evacuate immediately. You have entered subspace munitions range 4-3-4 . . . :::

"We've been sending out emergency hails, but so far, no response," Chakotay informed Seven. "Whoever's conducting these tests could be dozens of light years away. Any progress detecting their warheads?"

Icheb noted Seven's discomfort when she admitted she had not. The commander expected this answer, since Icheb had already advised him Seven never mentioned making any progress when he arrived for duty the evening before. Chakotay said he thought she looked "a little distracted," and added, "It's not like you to be late for a duty shift. Rough night?"

Seven responded, "Not at all," but Icheb noted her lips quirking up in a secret smile after the commander left them to return to the bridge.

Icheb wondered if that was the reason for her vehement response when he'd flippantly quoted and ancient Roman scholar from A History of Rome, something he thought would be a way to lighten the mood: "Better late than never.".

Seven did not appreciate his attempt at humor. "You're relieved!" she spat out.

Icheb felt the rebuke keenly. His face must have shown this, because she added, more gently, "Get some rest."

Despite her oblique apology to him, Icheb slunk out of Astrometrics more convinced than ever that the mother/son relationship they'd established had somehow disintegrated. What had he done to make her turn away from him like this?

=/\=

Icheb was in "Borg Central," researching the early days of Starfleet for an oral report he had to present to Captain Janeway to pass a required course, when the ship shuddered violently. Icheb was knocked off his feet and landed hard on the computer console. He activated the communication link to Astrometrics, ready to offer his assistance to Seven if she requested his presence. Before he could say anything, he overheard Commander Chakotay order Seven, :::We need those sensor calibrations.:::

After a brief time lag, probably undetectable to human ears but easily perceived by Icheb's Borg-enhanced hearing, Seven responded, :::I'll need a moment to return to my station.:::

This was a surprise. Seven was supposed to be on duty in Astrometrics this shift, and she hadn't requested Icheb relieve her, as she should have if her she'd been called to work elsewhere. After Icheb heard Chakotay's somewhat satirical response, :::That would be a good idea,::: he opened another link to the bridge to follow what was happening. Because of Seven's rebuke earlier that day, Icheb was reluctant to go to Astrometrics unless she summoned him.

A few minutes later, Icheb had to hold onto the console when Voyager was hit by still another shockwave. From the helm Tom reported, :::Hull fracture, Deck 12.::: That was an Engineering deck. Icheb could tell, from the tight sound of his voice, Tom was worried about his wife. Seven still had not called him to Astrometrics. Should he go there, despite her possible disapproval, or should he offer assistance to B'Elanna in Engineering?

Hull fractures were serious. Despite his desire to help Seven, Icheb decided he was needed on Deck 12. He shut down his research materials and communication links to the bridge and Astrometrics before opening a channel to Engineering. "Lieutenant Torres. May I assist you?"

:::YES!::: she shouted. :::Get down here as quickly as you can, Icheb! We could use your help.:::

=/\=

After working to repair the hull fracture with Lieutenant Torres's staff, Icheb reported to Astrometrics. He no longer cared if Seven wanted him there or not. Until they knew how to get away from this munitions testing ground, he should be doing all he could to develop that warning system. It could mean the difference between survival and death to everyone on Voyager.

Astrometrics was empty when he arrived, but Seven had left him instructions on how to detect the shockwaves which were bedeviling Voyager. He isolated subspace bond omicron theta, as she'd indicated, and reviewed the sensor logs documenting the barrage which had just ended. The gravimetric distortions that marked a warhead's emergence from subspace, which they'd discovered previously, were easy to see now that he knew where to look. Icheb followed up on possible ways to track the warheads before they emerged from subspace. Whether Seven wanted him to or not, he was going to do what he could to protect the ship from further damage.

=/\=

When Seven returned to Astrometrics from wherever she'd been, Icheb was pleased to report, "I've analyzed the sensor data from that last barrage and refined your detection method. We'll be able to see the weapons 10.3 seconds earlier."

She glanced at his data, before walking away, commenting, "The captain will be pleased."

'Seven really must not want my help,' he thought. 'What is happening?' After a pause, Icheb finally asked her, "Seven, have I offended you?"

She turned to face him then, and he could see a grim expression on her face. He feared what her answer to him must be, but it wasn't what he expected to hear. "No, you've done nothing wrong, Icheb. I was negligent in my duties. As a result, Voyager was nearly destroyed." She paused, then hesitantly said, "I was hoping you could provide a quotation to help alleviate my guilt."

"I . . . I can't think of one," he admitted. "But I would be happy to search the database."

She smiled at him. "That won't be necessary. Stay here until I return."

"Where are you going?"

"To correct an error," she sighed, and left Astrometrics again.

=/\=

Icheb was still on duty in Astrometrics, waiting for Seven to return from correcting her error, when the Doctor contacted him. :::Icheb, Seven is with me in Sickbay. She had a bit of a problem while running a holodeck program. I've decided to keep her under observation for a few hours. I've already informed the captain. When your shift is over, or if you need to leave Astrometrics for any reason, contact Stellar Cartography. Megan Delaney will relieve you.:::

"Is Seven's condition serious? Should I come to see her?"

:::It's nothing for you to worry about. Just a little . . . programming glitch. I'll be releasing her soon. Just carry on with your work. If there's any change, I'll contact you.:::

It wasn't easy for Icheb to keep his mind on his scans, but he managed. It was important. He had to remain vigilant for as long as they were in range of the warheads in the testing range. That would be his primary duty until warp drive was restored and they could get Voyager out of this dangerous region of space.

=/\=

Stardate 54689.9   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

The Doctor called me in this morning and examined my cortical array. I asked him if this had anything to do with why Seven has been acting so strangely lately. We were fortunate she came around in time to save us from the subspace warhead that had locked onto Voyager as soon as Lieutenant Torres succeeded in restoring warp drive. Seven was able to extract the detonator by transporting it out of the explosive device, rendering it harmless, but it was a very close call. The Doctor hemmed and hawed the way he usually does, but he finally admitted his examination of me had "something to do" with Seven's recent behavior. He wouldn't tell me anything more.

When Seven showed up in Borg Central, I insisted we speak. I asked her if she was regretting her offer to adopt me. As I promised myself I would, I told her I would "understand" if she didn't want to go through with it any more. She looked very upset and said, "Of course I still want to adopt you." She apologized for being so inattentive. "It wasn't just you, Icheb. I was distant with everyone. I had some . . . personal issues . . . I needed to work out. I chose to create holodeck simulations to do that. It was not the wisest course of action. I'm sorry I lost patience with you. You didn't do anything wrong. I did. I have resolved to correct the error."

She clasped my shoulder with her left arm, the way she did several weeks ago after informing me our memories had been tampered with by Dr. Kadan. "I meant what I said to you on Quarra, Icheb. You are my son. This experience reminds me that no one is perfect, mothers included. Family members can hurt each other sometimes. It doesn't mean they don't care for each other. It is as our captain always tells us. We are all members of Voyager's family. And you and I are also a family."

Her skin tone became paler than it usually is, although it wasn't turning gray, like Borg skin. She sat down heavily and began to rub her forehead over the cortical node I gave her. I became alarmed and offered to call the Doctor, but she forbade me from contacting him. She sighed and admitted that strong emotional upsets weren't "good for her." I asked her to explain, and after a little pleading on my part, she finally did.

At first, when she collapsed on the holodeck and called the Doctor for aid, they both thought her cortical node was starting to fail again. That would be terrible, since I don't have one to donate to her anymore. I expressed remorse that the part I gave to her must be faulty.

She explained there is nothing wrong with her cortical node. It's actually working the way it's supposed to. The emotion inhibitor component prevents strong emotions. We already knew that, to a degree, since I became much more emotional after donating my cortical node to her. However, it doesn't just dampen emotions to make them less intense. When stimulation from strong, conflicting emotions become overwhelming, the component causes higher brain functions to shut down. The Doctor doesn't know if this could threaten her life, but in order for her to experience normal human emotions, he'll have to extract the chip or reconfigure the node. He's willing to do that, but he told her it could be a difficult and lengthy process. "I declined the procedure, Icheb. The type of stimulation I was seeking wasn't very good for me. Maternal attachments don't seem to be threatening as a rule. Although I may not be able to fully express how strong my motherly emotions are towards you, rest assured, they are very strong. I simply need to be careful how I handle all my emotional responses from now on."

After a little more prodding, she confided that her simulations had to do with "interpersonal relationships of the affectionate kind." In other words, she was trying to experience romantic love. That's the emotional stimulus which was too much for her cortical node to handle.

I was glad she had finally confided in me. It actually explains a lot about how I've been reacting to emotional stimuli since I donated my cortical node to her. I gave up being able to communicate subvocally with other Borg when I did, but apparently I gained the ability to experience emotions the way other humanoid beings do. Maybe that had something to do with why I misread B'Elanna's friendliness to me as romantic overtures when we were overhauling Voyager. My unrestricted emotions ran away with me.

If I'd known about that trade-off beforehand, I still would have given my node to Seven to save her life. I'm the one who's benefited the most. Not only did I keep my mother alive, I will also be able to fall in love in the future without my neural network frying my biological brain. If I ever find someone whom I could fall in love with, that is. Except for Naomi and Aimee, everyone on Voyager is so much older than me!

I'm much too young to worry about that now. I hope Voyager's travels will end soon enough for me to take advantage of this ability. If the trip does take three decades to complete, as our crew currently believes, I'll be almost fifty Federation Standard Years old before we arrive in the Alpha Quadrant.  I'll be too old for romantic relationships!

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

". . . Finally, in the year 2270, Kirk's historic five-year mission comes to an end, and one of the greatest chapters in Starfleet history came to a close."

As he paused to take a breath at the end of this section of his oral presentation, Icheb relaxed his shoulders. It was going well. The captain was smiling at him and was beginning to rise off her sofa near the windows in her ready room. She must be getting up to obtain another cup of coffee for herself from her replicator. Icheb decided to move on to the next section of his presentation. "A new chapter began when Kirk regained command of the Enterprise . . . "

The captain's smile disappeared. "How many more chapters are there?" she inquired.

"Thirty-four," Icheb replied.

The captain groaned. "This was supposed to be a twenty-minute presentation."

"I was trying to be thorough. I could shorten the report," Icheb offered. He hoped going over the allotted time for his presentation wouldn't count against him. He'd considered the twenty-minute stipulation had simply established the minimum amount of time his oral presentation must last for him to satisfy the course requirement.

"That won't be necessary." Putting up her hand to preserve silence, Captain Janeway stood up and declared, "You obviously know the subject matter." Standing erect to make herself as tall as she could in front of the lanky cadet, she added, "Congratulations, Cadet. You have just passed Early Starfleet History."

"Thank you, Captain." Icheb turned crisply away and exited the ready room. Another course successfully completed! As he stepped onto the bridge, Icheb noticed Seven was standing at her bridge station. When he walked out of the ready room, she looked up from whatever she was doing and peered inquiringly at him.

"I passed," Icheb announced to the bridge crew.

"As I knew you would," Seven replied succinctly, but from the light in her eyes, he knew she was proud of him.

Tom, sitting at the helm, didn't turn around, but he called out, "Told you you'd nail it!" Both Chakotay and Harry Kim offered their congratulations. Tuvok nodded slightly, with his eyebrow raised in the manner Icheb had learned to recognize as the Security and Tactical Chief's approval. Tuvok's second-in-command Ensign Ayala and Security Officer Bhavin, who were both standing at bridge stations behind Seven, didn't actually verbalize any praise either, but both grinned at him, which pleased Icheb nonetheless. He didn't really expect anything more from the most taciturn members of Voyager's crew.

"I'm leaving the bridge now, Icheb. Will you accompany me?"

"Of course, Seven," he answered. Naturally, she wanted a full report of what had occurred in the ready room. He wondered if she would be disappointed the captain hadn't wanted to hear all the details he'd collected about the career of the legendary captain/admiral/captain. As he entered the turbolift with Seven, Icheb thought that as long as a cadet knew the history of Kirk and his predecessor, the legendary Captain Jonathan Archer, the commander of the first starship Enterprise, Early Starfleet History was an easy course to pass.

He had no idea the captain was dealing right then with two other visitors to her ready room, nor could he anticipate how complicated his life would become over the next several days, thanks to those intrusive representatives of the Q Continuum.

=/\=

Within hours, the crew were trading stories about the Q, particularly the one currently in residence, who had been a babe in his father's arms five years ago, the last time he'd been on Voyager. Now he looked like a human adolescent -- a very poorly behaved, boorish one.

Icheb had to research what a Q was, since his Borg knowledge consisted only sketchy information about the race of beings who called themselves this. Because they claimed they were omniscient, could pop in and out of normal space at will, and could take any form they wished, Borg drones had attempted to assimilate them many times. They always failed. The beings would flash out of existence, melt away, or turn into a mist so quickly, the assimilation tubules never delivered a single nanoprobes to one of them. They'd never struck back at the Borg after these attempts, fortunately, but since the Queen considered a Borgified Q a potential weapon to defeat the Collective's nemesis, Species 8472, the failure to assimilate the species was infuriating to her. That much, Icheb did know.

This young Q seemed to be doing everything he could to make everyone's life miserable, not just Icheb's. He appeared on the bridge shortly after Icheb left it after passing his course in Early Starfleet History. After the captain refused to allow him to fly into fluidic space to fight Species 8472, he declared he wanted to see more interesting things than "bipeds pushing buttons" and disappeared. He turned Main Engineering into some sort of wild party, almost causing a warp core breach. In the Borg Central Cargo Bay, he showed up while Seven of Nine was working and removed all her clothing so he could stare at her naked body.  Since he'd been unable to prompt a reaction from her, he left. He reprogrammed the food replicator in the mess hall so it would say, "Make it yourself," when anyone asked it for anything. When Neelix suggested he use his powers to relieve a food shortage in one planetary system instead of instigating a war, Q fused Neelix's jaw shut and removed his mouth and vocal cords, telling him, "You talk too much."

When Q appeared on the bridge and goaded three Borg cubes into attacking Voyager to "see how humans act under pressure," however, he went too far. Three drones materialized on the bridge, and the captain was saved from assimilation by still another Q. This was apparently the father of the one who was causing all the trouble. Father Q dispatched the drones and cubes far away and repaired the damage to Neelix. According to gossip, he also snarled at his son, "If the Continuum has told you once, it's told you a thousand times: Don't provoke the Borg!"

The next thing Icheb heard was that the junior Q had been turned briefly into an Oprelian amoeba The Doctor told Icheb that "Junior Q" had been forced to live in one of the Doctor's tiny petri dishes. "When he was turned back into a humanoid, he complained that life as an amoeba was disgusting, because he was slimy, and he only had paramecium to eat. His father told him he had just one week to become an upstanding citizen of the cosmos or he'd spend the rest of his life as a single celled lifeform. He's been stripped of his Q powers and forced to live as a human, just like us."

"Doctor, you're a hologram. I'm Brunali. Strictly speaking, neither one of us is human."

"A mere detail. You comprehend my meaning. The important part is, 'no Q powers.' He has to live like any of the crew as long as he's here. And do you know what he did when he was leaving my sickbay?" When Icheb admitted he did not, the Doctor exclaimed heatedly, "He stomped on the petri dish and smashed it to smithereens. He walked right through it and left a trail of culture media all over my floor. I had to clean it up myself. What a colossal waste of time! I'm a Doctor, not a janitor."

Hiding his smile, Icheb said, "I'll do my best to stay far away from him, Doctor." That turned out to be much easier said than done.

=/\=

Icheb was recording the properties of several singularities detected in the region of space in which Voyager was currently traveling, an assignment from Seven, when Tuvok escorted a stranger into Astrometrics. He was dressed in the uniform of a Starfleet crewman, but since Icheb had never laid eyes on him before, he knew this must be the Q which the Doctor, not to mention just about everyone else Icheb had had contact with, had spoken. Tuvok explained, "Seven of Nine will be instructing you in spatial causality. You will learn how your actions can have widespread repercussions."

In a bored tone of voice, Junior commented, "I read the PADD. You're going to tell me how I can't create Anomaly A without causing Phenomenon B, which, in turn, affects Civilization C, right?"

If Q thought this statement would get him out of the lesson, he was very much mistaken. When Commander Tuvok assigned something to you, as Icheb very well knew, you did the assignment. Perhaps Q had yet to learn this. Icheb decided it would not hurt to be gracious. Smiling, Icheb extended a hand of welcome and introduced himself.

"Oh, I know who you are. You're the drone with the Kirk fixation."

Before Icheb could make the mistake of showing his annoyance, Seven intervened. "You would be wise to follow Icheb's example. By applying himself, he's become a valued member of this crew."

Rather than respond to this comment, Q asked, "Can I see you naked again?"

Turning her back on Q, ignoring him for the moment, Seven walked to a console and called up the lesson in spatial causality. Although even more annoyed at Q's rudeness to Seven than he was at the dig at himself, Icheb did his best to hide it. He knew Seven was fully capable of handling such a situation. While this introductory part of the lesson was one Icheb had already heard, he listened attentively, to serve as a role model for the Continuum pest. Besides, he was pleased at Seven's praise. She was not generous with statements like this in Icheb's hearing (although Tom, Harry, and B'Elanna all had informed Icheb she'd said similar things to them about him). He wasn't about to give any evidence to this Q that her statement might not have been true.

=/\=

Once the spatial causality lesson was over, Chakotay came by to bring Q to his next lesson concerning diplomacy. Once they were gone, Icheb turned to Seven and said, "I wonder if he learned anything from you today."

"Doubtful," she said archly.  Icheb smiled before going back to the task he'd been forced to leave so that he could take part in the lesson with Q. The next couple of hours passed pleasantly, and therefore, quickly. At lunchtime, Seven released him to go to the mess hall to obtain "nutritional supplementation." He had to smile again at that. Would Seven ever totally expunge the Borg from her behavior? He had to think that was doubtful.

Although Icheb hoped to find one of his friends to share his meal when he walked into the mess hall, who should be there dishing out the lunch entrée but the young Q himself. He didn't seem very happy, and it was easy to see why. Neelix was being as loud and annoying as Neelix can be (who, Icheb had to admit, could be very annoying when he wanted to be). To Q's query, "Don't you ever stop?" Neelix only pretended to apologize.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. My talking annoys you. Too bad you can't just shut me up again, huh?" Icheb saw Neelix snap his fingers in Q's direction and then call out very loudly to one of the crew while Q winced at the sound.

Because he'd seen and heard what had just occurred, when Icheb approached Q he wasn't shocked at the rude way the interloper addressed him. "If it isn't drone boy! You come to put me to sleep with another of your presentations?"

Icheb thought for a moment. He could be rude back, which was tempting, but really, Icheb viewed that sort of reaction as counterproductive. If the official logs documenting the previous encounters with the Continuum had been recorded accurately, Q couldn't be more than five years old. Knowing the captain as he did, Icheb was sure her logs were completely factual. Considering how old this Q looked, his growth had been accelerated to an even greater degree than the Borg's maturation chamber did to Icheb and his Children's Collective cohorts. He decided to offer the possibility of friendship instead. "Actually, I was wondering if you'd like to participate in some recreational activities."

"I don't have the time. Aunt Kathy's forcing me to write an historical essay on the Q Continuum," Q groaned.

"That's a challenging subject," Icheb agreed.

"I've never written an essay before! I don't know where to start!"

"The origin of the Q seems like the most logical place, followed by an analysis of their interaction with humanity. You could conclude with a description of the events that led you to Voyager," Icheb suggested, trying to be helpful.

Q's face lit up. "Icheb, would you mind writing some of those down for me?"

Pleased to be of assistance, which could promote friendship with a being who was closer to his maturity level than anyone else on Voyager, Icheb offered to get a PADD to jot down an outline for Q's essay. If he'd never written one before, he naturally would need some guidance in order to produce the paper the captain had requested.

Q thanked Icheb profusely for this help. It never occurred to him that Q might have any ulterior motives in mind.

=/\=

Icheb went to find Tom the next evening, planning to ask him if he'd finished the Yellowstone Park Trail holodeck program the pilot had been working on recently. Naomi was especially looking forward to seeing Old Faithful and the other geysers Tom promised to include for her.

Tom and B'Elanna were planning to have a quiet dinner in their quarters that night, but they invited Icheb to come by after they'd eaten. When Icheb arrived, he added, "I'd like to ask Q if he'd like to come along with us, if he's finished his essay for the captain."

"Oh, it's finished, all right," Tom said, with a strange expression on his face.  "He presented it to the captain this afternoon. Icheb, did you write that essay for Q?"

"Oh, no. I just gave him some notes to get a start on it.  He told me he'd never written an essay before, so he had no idea how to do it."

"Those 'notes' -- were they written in full sentences, by chance?" B'Elanna asked.

"Well, yes, I guess so. I usually try to write that way whenever I write anything. For the practice. I've only spoken and written in Federation Standard for about a year now, you understand, just since I arrived on Voyager."

"Uh, huh," B'Elanna said, laughing. "And I'm sure you did your usual thorough job, too."

Icheb began to feel a little uncomfortable. "Why are you asking me this?"

"The captain came onto the bridge afterwards," Tom replied. "She told Chakotay that when Q read 'his' essay, she recognized your style. Q didn't write anything. He just read your notes."

"And Chakotay sent me to the holodeck this morning to check on the diplomatic program he'd set up for Q," B'Elanna added. "Q modified the personality subroutines governing the holographic characters to make them super friendly so they'd come to an agreement quickly."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause Q trouble. I was only trying to help him."

"Oh, I'm sure that's all you thought you were doing. He manipulated you into doing exactly what he wanted -- so he could slide by without breaking a sweat," the pilot explained.

Icheb felt his face grow hot. That comment about Icheb's "Kirk fixation" -- Q still had his powers then. "He must have heard my Early Starfleet History presentation to the captain. I included what Kirk did when he was a cadet at the Academy. He modified a computer program to beat the Kobayashi Maru scenario. The 'unwinnable scenario' is a test of character. No one's supposed to be able to win it. That gave him the idea. It's my fault Q cheated."

B'Elanna stood up and put her arm on Icheb's shoulder. "No, it's not your fault. It's his. From what I hear, he didn't need any help learning how to cheat. His father does it all the time!"

"What's going to happen to him? Is he going to be turned into an amoeba?"

"Who told you that?" Tom asked.

"The Doctor told me. That's what will happen to him if his behavior doesn't improve."

"Then he's fortunate his 'Aunt Kathy' is looking out for him," Tom replied. "She's giving him one more chance to prove he meant it when he said he'll behave. The captain set him to work scrubbing plasma conduits this afternoon."

"He did a decent job of it, too," B'Elanna admitted. "But Icheb, be careful if he asks you to 'help' him again. The Q are master manipulators, and he's no exception.  If he slips up, you may be the one to pay the price. Do you understand?"

"Yes, B'Elanna, I do," Icheb replied. He would still help Q if asked, but he wouldn't be quite so trusting next time.

=/\=

During a break in his schedule the following morning, Icheb ducked into the mess hall to pick up a snack on the way to a tutoring session with Naomi. Q was there, busily punching at a PADD. While Icheb was standing in front of the replicator (which was no longer recalcitrant about providing the comestible ordered by a crew member), Q got off the couch and approached Icheb. "I'm sorry I pretended I wrote the outline you gave me, Icheb. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but the captain knew immediately you wrote it."

"Lieutenant Paris always says not much gets by the captain."

"He's right. She knew I'd modified Chakotay's diplomatic holodeck program, too. She was going to make me stay in my quarters until my father came back. I had to beg her to let me continue my training. She said she would, as long as I cooperated with the program. If I step out of line again, though, it's eternity in a petri dish for me -- or 'circular city,' as my father put it."

"I'm pleased the captain is giving you another chance. As long as you don't try to trick me into writing any more essays for you, I'm willing to help you adjust to life on Voyager. I know how hard it can be. I had to do it after Seven saved me from the Borg cube."

"Oh, no, I won't try to trick you into anything again. I'm rewriting my essay now. Aunt Kathy didn't ask me to do it, but I thought I owed it to her for letting me stay."

"You know, Q, you'll do a much better job than I did. I researched the Continuum in our database, but no one in the Federation really knows what it's like the way you do."

Q was silent for a few seconds, then said, "I think I've underestimated you, Icheb. Maybe all the people on this ship, too. You're not stupid . . . wait. That didn't come out right . . ."

"I heard you said you were on an 'antiquated flying machine run by primates.' I guess from the Continuum's perspective, that's true. But we aren't stupid." Icheb grinned to soften his comment.

"Where did you hear that?" Q asked, visibly agitated.

"We have a very active gossip network on Voyager. Naomi Wildman likes to say, 'it's a small ship.'  She's right. If you don't want anyone to hear some embarrassing comment you've made circulating throughout the ship -- don't say it at all."

"I'll have to remember that."

"Well, Q, I'll leave you to your work. I'm on my way to give a lesson to Naomi, but I have to speak to one of my tutors about something else first."

Q waved his hand awkwardly as he sat back down on the couch. Icheb decided it was Q's attempt to wave good-bye and returned the gesture. Grabbing his nutritional nachos and shake from the replicator, Icheb left the mess hall, intending to ask for a favor from one of his own tutors.

=/\=

Once Icheb was in the corridor outside the mess hall, he contacted Tom and asked him when Tom had scheduled Icheb's next piloting lesson.

:::I'm here in Sickbay until noon, but I'm off after that. We can do it anytime this afternoon. B'Elanna will be in Engineering working until 1800. At least.:::

"I have to give Naomi a genetics lesson now, but if you take me out in the  Delta Flyer this afternoon, can Q come along? I think he's really trying to cooperate with the captain. I just saw him. He's rewriting his essay for her right now."

:::Maybe he is,::: Tom mused. :::I hope so. I'll need to get clearance from Chakotay to use the Flyer. If he says it's okay, I'll let you know. As long as Q-boy agrees to behave himself, he can come along.:::

"Thanks, Lieutenant Paris."

Tom laughed. :::I'm back to Lieutenant Paris now?:::

"When you're my Academy teacher, then yes. I have to set a good example for Q."

:::I understand, Cadet Icheb. As soon as I get clearance, we'll schedule a time to meet.:::

Icheb was certain Tom would work things out with Chakotay. When he really thought about it, the lesson in spatial causality had been more stimulating than usual, and not just because he already knew most of what Seven had covered. It was kind of nice having someone else "in class" with him yesterday.

=/\=

Icheb was about to enter the mess hall, but he stopped when he overheard the captain say, "I, Q: An Insider's View of the Continuum."

Q answered, "I know you didn't ask for one, but I felt I owed it to you for giving me a second chance."

After a brief pause, Captain Janeway said, "If the essay is half as clever as the title, I'm sure I'll enjoy it."

Icheb entered the mess hall after her comment and said to Q, "Lieutenant Paris has offered to give me a piloting lesson. I thought you might like to join us."

Resignedly, Q said, "Oh, thanks, but I have to help Crewman Chell scrub the plasma conduits." Having scrubbed plasma conduits in the past himself, Icheb was familiar with the distasteful task. He was disappointed Q would miss going out on the Flyer. He was sure he'd enjoy it.

The captain was in an expansive mood, however. "I think you've earned a break. This is the only time off I'm giving you," she warned him. "I suggest you take advantage of it."

"Yes, ma'am," Q said eagerly as he followed Icheb out the door. "Piloting lesson, huh? Where are we going?"

"Lieutenant Paris will pick out something interesting," Icheb assured him.

=/\=

"Steady. Ease up a little on the thrusters," Tom said, from his position in back of the pilot's seat Icheb was currently occupying. Icheb did as he was instructed, and just in time. On inertia alone, the Delta Flyer whizzed a little too close to a chunk of rock almost as big as the shuttle. If the thrusters had still been at the level they'd been before Icheb had eased off the controls, the little craft's shields might easily have collided with it. While that alone shouldn't have damaged the shuttle, if the asteroid's established path through the asteroid field had been altered the rock might have rammed into another of the bodies. A chain reaction, uncomfortably like a cue ball breaking the massed balls on the pool table at Sandrine's, could have been the result. And that would have complicated Icheb's piloting through the field immeasurably.

Q, in the co-pilot's seat, had already been a little apprehensive when Tom instructed Icheb to fly them through the asteroid belt. This almost-collision was a bit too close for comfort for him, and he reminded Icheb, "In case you forgot, I'm mortal now. I'd appreciate it if you didn't pilot us into a rock."

Icheb had enjoyed a sufficient number of Lieutenant Paris's piloting lessons that he wasn't that nervous. He'd already decided he needed to ease up on the thrusters before Tom mentioned it to him, but he wasn't offended by the advice offered by the expert pilot. After successfully dodging a few more rocks, Icheb flew the craft where the rocks were much further apart and suggested, "Maybe Q could take over for a little while."

"What do you say? You want a turn at the wheel?" Tom asked Q.

"Ordinarily, a Q wouldn't demean himself by operating primitive machinery," Q airily commented, in that know-it-all tone a Q often utilized to beings they considered their inferiors (which was just about everyone), but he had trouble maintaining his superior attitude. A little too eagerly, he tacked on, "but these aren't ordinary circumstances."

At Tom's nod of agreement, Q switched places with Icheb. Almost immediately, an alert sounded. "Uh, did I do something wrong?" Q asked, as he looked over the control panel to try to identify the cause of the alarm.

After checking several readouts, Tom reassured them, "Just a little imbalance in the impulse drive. Nothing to worry about."

"It's very distracting. Can't you fix it?" Q asked.

"Well, I could, but we'd have to go back to Voyager and run diagnostics. If you two don't mind cutting your lesson a little short . . ."

Q and Icheb exchanged glances. "That won't be necessary," Q answered. "In fact, I can barely hear it anymore." Looking towards the co-pilot's seat, he asked Icheb, "Do you hear it?"

What's a little honking in your ear if you're having fun? With the slightest of smirks, Icheb responded, "Hear what?"

Icheb glanced back at Tom. He was grinning, so Icheb knew the malfunction wasn't offering any real danger to them at the moment. It was nice having the chance to spend a lesson with someone who was a lot closer to his age than Naomi and Aimee were. Icheb thought he could get used to having a buddy on Voyager. It was unfortunate Q would be leaving them if the Continuum accepted that he really had become a more disciplined Q. He didn't want Q to fail, however. If Q's father and the Continuum weren't happy with his progress, he'd be turned into an Oprelian amoeba. Icheb didn't want that to happen to his new friend.

=/\=

Icheb had hoped to work on the Delta Flyer for a while with Tom and Q once they arrived back on Voyager. He was sure Q would be less derisive of their "antiquated flying machines" if he had a chance to do a little maintenance work on one. Icheb knew performing hands-on repairs to Voyager had enhanced his appreciation of the Federation's technology. Just before they approached Voyager's shuttlebay, however, the captain contacted the Flyer and requested Q's presence in her ready room once they arrived. She had a "surprise" for him.

"I hope it doesn't have anything to do with petri dishes," Q said waspishly.

Tom snickered, "I wouldn't worry about that, Q. I've had the dubious pleasure of being called on the carpet by the captain on many occasions. The captain's tone of voice is much too cheery for anything unpleasant. Maybe it's good news from the Continuum."

"Doubtful. If it was, my father would have flashed right on board the Delta Flyer and whisked me off on an adventure. "

"Just stay positive," Tom advised. Icheb nodded his agreement. "Now, do you want to fly her into the shuttlebay entrance, or do you want Icheb or me to take over?"

"Just tell me what to do, Lieutenant Paris," Q said confidently. Icheb was glad to see Q's spirits quickly reviving, once Tom gave him the chance to exhibit what he'd learned on this flight. He noted, however, that Tom had surreptitiously activated the homing protocol, which installed extra shielding around and inside the bay entrance, providing an extra layer of protection for both ships when an injured pilot was at the controls. Q didn't need to know that, though.

=/\=

Icheb looked for Q in the mess hall during the dinner hour, but there was no sign of him.

During the meal, Tom and Harry invited Icheb to come to Sandrine's with them afterwards for an impromptu pool tournament. Since Sandrine considered Icheb a "boy" who was too young to enter her establishment without "adult supervision," he accepted without hesitation. "Do you think we should invite Q?" Icheb asked.

"You can invite him if you want to, as long as he hasn't had his Q powers restored. I'd like to see what he can do on with his own hand-eye coordination and muscle control," Tom commented.

When Icheb tried to contact him through the comm system and Q didn't respond, Icheb decided to go to Q's quarters to invite him in person. As he approached Q's door, he worried a bit about what type of Q attitude he might encounter. Was he still being cooperative and friendly? Or did the captain's summons signal that something had gone wrong after all?

When Icheb initially activated Q's chime, there was no response from the occupant. Icheb knew he was in his quarters, since he'd checked via the computer prior to walking there. When he activated the chime a second time, he called out, "Q, it's me -- Icheb. Are you there?"

The door swished open. "Yeah, I'm here," Q answered.

Icheb walked in, disconcerted by the sad tone of Q's answer. "Are you all right?"

"As all right as a potential Oprelian amoeba can be," Q shot back.

"I don't understand. You're doing so well."

Q gestured for Icheb to take the seat near his desk. Q remained sitting on his bunk, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together lightly. "The captain agrees with you. My father, not so much."

Icheb sat down heavily on the chair. "Your father was with the captain?"

"Oh, yes, he was there. Checking up on me. The captain praised my 'attitude adjustment' and the progress I'd been making in my training. My father wasn't at all impressed. She told him she liked my essay and had me read it out loud. When I was finished, she asked my father what he thought. He said it was 'nice.' He liked the part about the Continuum."

"But the whole essay was about the Continuum."

"Exactly. He hated it."

Icheb didn't know what to say. Maybe Q's father hadn't paid attention to the reading, but that was an indictment in itself. If he was so concerned a parent, shouldn't he have been paying attention? As demanding as Seven could be, or Captain Janeway, they actually listened to him whenever he had an issue of some kind. "Well, uh . . ." he finally managed.

"It's all right. You don't have to say anything." Q stood up and walked around to the other side of his bed. "When I saw how unimpressed he was with what the captain was saying, I made my excuses. I said I was late for a temporal mechanics lesson."

"We aren't having that lesson until tomorrow morning."

"He doesn't know that. He could if he wanted to, but he won't bother to find out. I know how he is. He's impossible to please. I came back here to my quarters when I left the ready room. The captain came here to see me after my father left. SHE knew I wasn't in a temporal mechanics lesson. She tried to make me feel better, but what's the use? If my father doesn't think I'm up to being a Q, the rest of the Continuum is going to be just as unimpressed. My next essay -- if I ever get a chance to write one -- is going to be entitled, 'Life as an Amoeba,' by Q Junior."

"I'm sorry, Q." Icheb didn't know what else to say. "Maybe the Continuum will let you stay here as a human if they won't take you back as a Q."

"The captain said she'd try to convince them to let me stay here as a human, but I really want to be a Q, like my father. Can you understand that?"

"I do understand. But living on Voyager as a human is better than swimming around a petri dish. At least you can pilot the Delta Flyer every now and then. You can come to Sandrine's and play pool with us sometimes, too. That's what I came here for, by the way. You're invited to come to Sandrine's with Tom and Harry and me to play pool. Maybe hitting a cue ball around will help you forget your troubles."

"Thanks for the offer, Icheb, but . . . hey, why not? It's better than sitting in here moping about spending eternity in a petri dish."

=/\=

That night, Q did seem to ignore whatever fate the Continuum would decide for him. Tom and Harry won the pool tournament, to no one's surprise, but Q assured Icheb he'd had a very good time. They sat around after it was over, and Tom regaled them with stories about his "misspent youth" hot rodding in his family's old hovercraft with a few of his friends, until he splashed it into Lake Tahoe, that is. "It's probably still down there," Tom laughed. "I had to do all sorts of odd jobs to pay my father back for losing it."

When Harry mentioned a pool player named "Minnesota Fats," Tom explained that guys hanging out in pool halls often had nicknames. The rest of the night, they came up with humorous or outrageous names for the four of them.

The next morning, in their temporal mechanics class, Seven discussed Captain Braxton and the Federation Temporal Police. "Generally, when a time stream is changed, the old one disappears from memory. Before I came on board, Voyager was accidentally sent back to the twentieth century. Later, the ship was returned by Captain Braxton to the same place and time in the Delta Quadrant it had been when the incident began. However, the crew remembered what happened, and our EMH obtained his mobile emitter during this adventure. The emitter technology was retrieved from a timeship that originated five centuries in the future. What reason could the Federation Temporal Police have had to allow all this to happen?"

The discussion was lively. Icheb remembered some facts about time travel from his Borg knowledge, and Q had some things to say about the subject from the Continuum's perspective. They finally decided that the mobile emitter had to be delivered to the 24^th century from the 29^th, but why was still a mystery. When the class was ending, Icheb remarked, "It will be best if we don't mention this to the Doctor, Seven. His ego is big enough as it is."

Seven agreed.

=/\=

Icheb was checking relays in a Jeffries tube down in deck 14 the following morning when he heard a voice call out, "Itchy, are you in here? Itchy??"

"What can I do for you, Q-Ball?" Icheb answered, using another one of the nicknames they'd come up with after the pool tournament in Sandrine's.

"I need your help." As Q descended the Jeffries tube ladder, Icheb folded up the tricorder he was using and stood up. "Remember that ion imbalance Lieutenant Paris mentioned during our lesson?" When Icheb nodded that he did, Q said, "We're going to repair it for him."

"Did you get permission?" Icheb asked.

"Well, that would ruin the surprise."

"The surprise?!"

"The captain's been encouraging me to take more initiative. I want to show her I can do things for others without being asked," Q explained.

Icheb considered the proposal for a moment before saying, "I'll help you on one condition."

"Name it."

"You won't refer to me as 'Itchy' in front of the senior officers."

With a smile, Q agreed, which was a good thing. Tom told Icheb he should call his friend Scratchy if Q kept calling him Itchy. Icheb thanked Tom politely, but decided he preferred the pool hall reference instead of making reference to an obscure and ancient cartoon.

=/\=

An hour later the task was nearing completion. "I've realigned the last pair of power couplings. You can start the pre-ignition sequence," Icheb informed Q from the rear of the Delta Flyer II.

"Understood." Q flipped several switches to activate the sequence.

Icheb listened for a moment, checking the readouts on the panel and his tricorder. "I'm not detecting any ion fluctuations. We did it!" He glanced forward to Q, who was sitting in the pilot's seat, and smiled. "You can power down the engine now."

Q hit more of the controls, but instead of turning down the power, the engine revved up. Concerned, Icheb took to his feet and moved towards the front of the Flyer. "Q? What are you doing?"

Q enthusiastically responded, "You're going to love this. I once learned how to open a spatial flexure using nothing more than a deflector array."

"A 'flexure'?"

Confidently, Q told him, "It's like a tunnel through space. I'm going to open one to the Clevari system. Just wait until you see the females. They're spectacular!"

Soberly, Icheb reminded him, "We need the captain's permission to leave Voyager."

"Do you think she'd give it to us?"

"NO!"

"Then there's no point in asking," Q responded offhandedly.

"You've been doing so well," Icheb said. "Why break the rules now?"

"I'm bored."

Icheb had been around Q long enough to realize something else was going on. He didn't want to become involved in an unauthorized joy ride, either. "Icheb to Security."

"They can't hear you. I've dampened all outgoing communications."

Icheb started to move forward, but before he managed to reach the Flyer's Tactical station, he was stopped by a shield.

"Just sit back, Itchy. Enjoy the ride." Q lifted the Delta Flyer II from the shuttlebay floor, blasted through the doors, and flew it out of Voyager.

"What's the real reason you're doing this?"

"I'm getting out of here before my father can put me back in that petri dish."

"The Q are omniscient. They'll find you."

"I may not have my powers anymore, but I know lots of nooks and crannies we can hide in." Icheb suddenly stumbled when the Flyer was rocked by the application of Voyager's tractor beam. Chuckling softly, Q muttered, "They're so predictable," as he busily manipulated the shuttle's controls.

"Q, the captain isn't going to let us get away with this. Please, let's go back," Icheb implored.

"Don't worry, Itchy. I've got this." The Delta Flyer broke free of the tractor beam and sailed through the rift.

=/\=

As the shuttle flew out of the flexure, a gleeful Q informed Icheb, "Welcome to the Clevari system." He rose from the pilot's seat and approached the shield barrier to address Icheb face-to-face. "What would you like to do first? Take a dip with the mermaids of Golos Prime? Challenge the Warrior Goddess of Fekdar to a grappling contest?" From the way Junior wiggled his fingers when he said the word "grappling," Icheb suspected he had more on his mind than a simple wrestling match.

"What I WANT is to return to Voyager," Icheb stated firmly.

"Forget that dreary ship, with its rules and regulations. We can do anything we want here."

Icheb earnestly replied, "Go back to Voyager. Apologize to the captain. She'll help you."

"It's too late. She said one more violation and I'd be thrown off her ship. I'm pretty sure this qualifies." Q's tirade was interrupted by loud beeping emanating from the pilot's station.

"What's wrong?" Icheb asked.

"There's a vessel approaching," Q said, as a huge ship maneuvered itself into position over the Delta Flyer.

The image of an alien, every facial plane as sharply edged as a crystal, appeared in the Flyer's viewscreen. :::You're trespassing in Chokuzan space,::: the alien announced.

Activating the outgoing communication function he'd shut off before they left Voyager and making a stab at innocence, Q replied contritely, "We were just leaving."

:::Our laws require that you be incarcerated, pending an investigation,::: the alien stated severely.

"How long will that take?"

The alien ignored Q's query. :::Disengage you're engines and prepare to be boarded.::: The viewscreen went blank. Further talk was apparently not an option.

 "We should do as he says," Icheb advised.

"Why? Just because he has a bigger ship?"

"Because Captain Janeway has taught us to respect the laws of other cultures," Icheb replied.

Gruffly, Q said, "I should have known better than to bring you along." Ignoring Icheb's plea, he fired on the Chokuzan vessel and wheeled the Flyer away, speeding towards the flexure.

"You're going to get us killed!" Icheb warned.

"Did you expect me to surrender? He might have locked us up for years!"

"You don't know that," Icheb reasoned. Any chance he might be able to change Q's mind was ruined when the Flyer was hit by weapons fire originating from the Chokuzan vessel.

"There's no time for debate! I need you at Tactical." Q quickly removed the shield barrier, freeing Icheb. Clearly, Q did need help. Icheb slid into the Tactical station seat.

"Shields are down to 30%," Icheb announced. After another volley shook the shuttle, Icheb corrected himself: "16%." The cabin of the Delta Flyer began to fill with acrid smoke.

Q's response was not comforting to Icheb. "I'm opening another Flexure. We'll go to the Zozek system. The girls aren't as attractive, but we have to make some compromises."

The Chokuzan vessel continued firing on the Flyer as Q steered the shuttle into the Flexure.

The air around Icheb was suddenly filled with tendrils of energy. Vaguely, he was aware it was coming from the Tactical station. As Icheb's body hit the floor, he heard Q cry out, "Icheb!"

Icheb's cranial implants blazed with heat. His thoughts were scrambled. He couldn't hear or see or think anything other than this must be what death felt like. And then he knew no more.

=/\=

Apparently he wasn't dead, or at least, he didn't seem to be dead. Icheb could feel a surface beneath him. He heard people. The captain. Q. And another voice, one he didn't recognize. Icheb couldn't open his eyes, or speak, or even move his little finger, but he could hear them shouting something. Gradually, the words began to make a glimmer of sense.

"Is this a bad time?" the stranger asked.

"Tell him!" the captain growled.

Q began to speak. "Icheb stole a shuttle from Voyager. I tried to stop him, but he kidnapped me! And he started a fight with another ship!"

Wait. That wasn't right. Icheb tried to speak but couldn't. He wished he had his cortical node so he could contact Seven and tell her it wasn't that way; but if he still had his node, she wouldn't be here. She'd be dead. That wouldn't be good.

But then he heard the captain speak up for Icheb. "HE stole the shuttle, and HE attacked the other vessel," accusing Q, not Icheb.

"Is that true, son?" the stranger asked. So, this other voice must belong to Q's father, Q. How confusing, Icheb thought. If everyone was Q, how could they tell one from the other?

His thoughts were interrupted by the Q he knew. "Please, Q. Just save him."

"Don't be absurd," the other Q answered.

"You're not going to help him?"

"Like Aunt Kathy said, you're never going to learn anything if you don't face the consequences of your actions. If your little playmate has to die to teach you a lesson, so be it."

As a red light flashed briefly through his closed lids, Icheb decided he didn't like this other Q. Even though his friend had turned him into an immobile, half-dead hunk of flesh, Borg implants, and circuitry, if this is the way his father treated Q he could understand why he had had so much trouble adjusting to life on Voyager. This other Q would let Icheb finish dying just to teach his son a lesson? What kind of father did something like that? What a jerk!

"I know you can hear me, Q! Come back! Q!" Q -- his Q -- Q-Ball called out.

The voice Icheb thought must be Q's father's was silent. That red light -- that must be when he flashed away, the way the Q were said to do. Icheb heard the captain say, "You're wasting your time." Oh, no! Was the captain giving up on him now?

"He's the only one who can save Icheb!" Q exclaimed.

"No, he isn't. You're going to go back to that ship you attacked. You're going to apologize for what you did, and you're going to plead with them for the information we need to save Icheb."

"Look at what they did to Icheb! If I go back, they'll do the same to me."

"What do you care? Tomorrow, you'll be an amoeba." So, the Doctor must be here, too. That was his vocal subroutine speaking.

"Well, I'd rather be an amoeba than a corpse!" Q exclaimed.

A calmer-sounding Captain Janeway said smoothly, "That would be easier, wouldn't it? No expectations to live up to. No one to disappoint."

When he heard Q's reply, the voice came from somewhere just above Icheb. Of course. Icheb must be on a biobed in Sickbay. "I'm a failure as a Q and a human. If I'm a single-celled organism, at least I can't hurt anybody."

"Why did you come back here?" the captain asked.

"To escape the Chokuzan," Q answered, but the voice didn't sound as sure of itself as usual.

The captain confronted him again. "You could have used your technology to take you anywhere, but you came back here to us. Why?"

"I probably hit the wrong control," Q said. Icheb couldn't help but feel disappointed at this glib answer. He thought Q was his friend. But after a moment, Q spoke again, and this time, his voice was filled with remorse. "Icheb is the only friend I've ever had. I brought him back here because I thought you could save him." After a pause, he added, "Obviously, I was mistaken!"

Icheb heard the Doctor's "harrumph!" That last comment must have been directed towards Q.

"The only mistake you made was running away. You have a chance to do the right thing now. Don't waste it," the captain insisted.

Q didn't answer. Icheb wished he could see them, but, of course, his eyes were still sealed shut and he couldn't move. He was barely able to breathe. All he could do was lie there as he began to hear the voice of Seven, shouting imprecations at Q. He didn't know where she'd been earlier. He was sure he would have heard her if she'd been in Sickbay before this.

Icheb was very tired of all the drama. He really didn't want to die, but he didn't want to hear any more screaming, either. And then the screaming faded away.

=/\=

When Icheb became aware of voices again, none of them sounded like Q's. Either Q. Seven was insisting they inject the nanoprobes she'd prepared to counteract omicron radiation into Icheb.

"We still don't know what we're dealing with, Seven," the Doctor answered. "His readings keep fluctuating. I'm not sure we really are dealing with omicron radiation poisoning."

"We have to do something or Icheb will die!" Seven yelled.

"Do you have to yell?" Icheb groaned.

He found he could open his eyes again. Instead of the ceiling, he found himself looking into the very blue eyes of Tom Paris. Mr. Paris here, since they were in Sickbay.

"Well, well, well. He's back," Tom said, passing a medical tricorder over Icheb's body. "And he really IS back. There's no sign of any radiation damage at all. Maybe some minor frying to a few Borg circuits, but otherwise, he seems . . . fine." Tom sounded more and more puzzled as he continued his report.

"That's impossible!" the Doctor insisted, rushing to his scanning apparatus.

Seven stepped close enough to grab Icheb by the hand. In a soft voice, she asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Well. I'm feeling very well," he answered, starting to rise into a sitting position.

"Please remain in a prone position while I finish my scans," the Doctor ordered. "And Seven of Nine, remove your hand from his. You're distorting my readings."

Seven sighed deeply but did as ordered. Tom winked at Icheb, which reassured Icheb that there wasn't anything seriously wrong with him.

Eventually, the Doctor "harrumphed" again and said, "Mr. Paris's diagnosis appears to be fairly accurate. Seven, your nanoprobe therapy is unnecessary. Icheb's own nanoprobes appear to have already repaired most of the damage to his circuitry. You can sit up now, Icheb, but I want you to remain in Sickbay for a few more hours under my care. We don't want you to have a relapse."

"What was the problem, Doctor?" Icheb asked.

"I haven't the faintest idea. Nor do I understand why you've made a miraculous recovery. The captain and Q haven't come back yet with the information we needed on the weapon which caused your injuries. Or thought we needed, I suppose I should say." The Doctor was not pleased.

"Maybe it was more Q fun and games," Tom observed archly.

Afterwards, of course, they were to learn that's exactly what had happened.

=/\=

"So it was your father in that ship that shot at us? Not a Chokruzan officer?"

Icheb was still in Sickbay, but he'd gained the Doctor's grudging permission to sit in the EMH's chair in his office instead of lying around on a biobed. Q was sitting on the edge of the desk.

"Yes, it was dear old Dad. It was a little 'test' of his. Since I took responsibility for my actions and was willing to sacrifice myself to save you, he said I passed with 'flying colors.' He thought the captain's training exercises were 'pathetic' and wouldn't impress the Continuum."

"I guess it must have, since you're here speaking with me like a human, not an amoeba."

"They really weren't that impressed. When I faced the three Continuum judges, Captain Janeway stood with my father and me to support us. I'm grateful to her for that. The head judge said the Continuum didn't feel I'd made sufficient progress to warrant the reinstatement of my powers, since I was the one who endangered your life in the first place. But I wasn't changed into an amoeba. She said I had to 'suffer the next worst fate' -- remaining human."

Icheb couldn't tamp down a flare of hope. "Are you going to stay on Voyager?"

"Well, no. After the judge's decree, my father was outraged, so he flashed away. I didn't think he was coming back for me this time. I asked the captain if she'd allow me to remain on board to finish my training. Being a member of this crew wouldn't be that bad."

"Better than living in a petri dish," Icheb observed.

"A LOT better than that!" Q laughed. "But this is better. Before she'd given me her answer . . ."

"You know she would have let you stay."

"I know. Despite all my mistakes, she would have given me another chance. But then my father showed up again. He'd left us so he could appeal the Continuum's decision. He said he refused to remain in a Continuum that refused to accept his son as a member! We were a 'package deal.'"

"He left the Continuum?"

"Of course not. He said they 'crumbled like a Gelbian sand sculpture' and agreed to give me my powers back!"

Icheb sighed sadly at the news. "I'm happy for you, Q-Ball, really, I am; but I would have liked it if you'd stayed around for a while. It was fun having someone my age around."

"You almost died," Q pointed out.

"Well, yes, almost. But I didn't. And it hasn't been boring with you around, Q-Ball."

"I'm going to miss you, too, Itchy. We could've had a lot of fun on Golos Prime if my father didn't pull that trick on us."

"Maybe, but I like following the rules and regulations of Starfleet."

"That's the Borg in you talking. The No-Fun Automaton People."

"I guess you can try to take the Borg out of the boy, but you can't ever fully succeed," Icheb agreed, smiling at his friend. He really would miss Q-Ball.

"Well, anyway, I stopped by to apologize to you for everything that happened, and for all the mean things I said to you. And I wanted to make sure you really were all right. My father said you were, but I had to see for myself."

"Yes, I really am all right. The Doctor is just being cautious. If Seven catches you here with me, though, she'll probably yell at you. You don't want to get a Borg mad at you."

"Ah, the sublime Seven of Nine! I'll treasure the memory of her divine form forever!" Q smiled reminiscently. "And that reminds me, I really do need to get going. My father asked me to meet him on Golos Prime. We'll do a little female watching while we're there, if you know what I mean." Q wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Icheb shook his head. Incorrigible.

More seriously, Q said, "Icheb, I really am sorry I endangered you."

"Apology accepted," Icheb replied.

A contemplative expression came over Q's face. "You know, Itchy, the Q are supposedly omnipotent, but I think they've got a lot to learn from people like you. I hope we get a chance to get together again sometime. Maybe you can teach me how to become a valued member of Voyager's crew, like you are."

This was one of the nicest things Q had ever said to him. Before he could think of a reply, a flash of light appeared in the doorway. Not Q again! In a shocked tone of voice, Q identified her to Icheb. "It's the main judge from the tribunal!"

The judge declared, "Well, I'm glad to see at least part of our plan worked!"

Her judicial robes and headgear melted away. The face changed, and another female Q appeared. She was much taller and prettier, with long dark hair and a perpetually amused expression.

"Mom! " Q declared. "What are you doing here? I thought you disowned me!"

"Is that what your father told you? Just like him to twist things. No, I didn't disown YOU, I disowned HIM for the irresponsible way he was goading you into growing up to be just like him. He does have his good points -- occasionally -- but he does his best to hide them! He insisted on taking custody of you. You can see what a disaster that's been."

"But couldn't you have visited me every now and then?"

"I am sorry about that, Q. The truth is, I've visited you quite often. According to the custody agreement, I wasn't allowed to show myself to you when I did. I was one of those paramecia swimming around with you in your petri dish, you know. I managed to escape just before you smashed it under your foot. It's a good thing you didn't get around to eating me, or your little Oprelian amoeba self would have had a terrible case of indigestion." She stopped and shook her head in disgust. "There I go again. I'm going off on a tangent. It happens whenever I'm talking about something your father's done. Where was I? Oh, yes. I had to keep out of sight because of the terms of the custody agreement. I only went along with that because I knew I had to give your father a chance to mess things up because of his incompetence. Fortunately, the plan worked out, thanks to Captain Janeway -- and to you, Cadet Icheb. Neither of you knew the plan, but you both acted in just the way the Continuum expected."

"You had a plan?" Q asked, obviously confused by what his mother was telling him.

"Of course. What good is omniscience if you never bother to join it with common sense every now and then?" The female Q's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. "We had to see if you could be taught, since it's obvious your father can't be. Almost killing your friend? Turning you into an amoeba? Refusing to give you any credit for that essay you wrote -- especially since the captain didn't ask you to rewrite it and you did it on your own initiative? I'm proud of you, my dear. That's taking responsibility for your own actions. I HOPE this experience will teach you to be a more responsible Q. How else to . . . how did Commander Chakotay put that to you again? About the responsibilities of the Q?"

"You mean that we're supposed to maintain order in the universe?"

"That's it exactly. And what, may I ask, is the most disruptive force preventing the maintenance of order in the universe?"

Icheb couldn't help himself. He immediately thought, the Q. Or one of them, at least.

Q's mother turned towards Icheb, raised her brow, and smiled at him. "I heard that. You're absolutely right," she said.

Q sighed and finally gave his mother the same answer that had occurred to Icheb. "An out-of-control Q. You're talking about my father, aren't you?"

His mother put her hand on her son's shoulder. "I'm afraid I am, Q. I trust you're up to the task the Continuum has insisted upon. The appeals court just told your father he's supposed to stay with you and supervise you for all eternity. He's telling Captain Janeway that right now. But it's really the other way around. You were born to save the Continuum."

"So I've heard all my life, but I'm no savior. Haven't I just proved that by the way I've acted this past week?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You were willing to be taught and passed the test. You are going to save the Continuum, and the way you're going to do it is by supervising your father. Your task is to keep him from bothering all the inhabitants of the universe, especially the humans. Most of the time, that is. He's hopeless. You'll be very busy, but the Continuum understands how hard that's going to be. They believe you're up to it now. So do I."

Momentarily stunned, Q considered the task ahead. "That's a very tall order, Mom." Turning to Icheb, he said, "It looks like I won't be able to visit you very often after all, Icheb. I guess the adventures of Itchy and Q-Ball are over."

"Oh, I think we can let you off for a vacation from your father every now and then. But right now, aren't you due to meet him at Golos Prime?"

"Ah, yes. I guess I'd better go."

"Before you do . . ." His mother held out her arms and pulled her son to her, giving him a very firm hug and a kiss. "We know you can't keep him from harassing all the lovelies on Golos Prime, but do your best to curb the excesses . . . and the silliness that always goes with it!"

He smiled. "I'll certainly try! Ciao, Icheb. Until next time."

"Until next time," Icheb answered.

The words had barely escaped from his mouth before Q disappeared in a flash of light. Icheb turned to the female Q, expecting to say good-bye to her, too, before she flashed away, but she put up her hand. "Before I go, Icheb, I have something to say to you. Again, I must thank you. One of the reasons I was willing to go along with this plan of the Continuum's was the way Captain Janeway has handled Seven of Nine and you. You're both turning out very well. Responsible. Considering what your parents did, and then what the Borg tried to do to you, you're a remarkable person."

Icheb felt his face warming into a blush. "It's mostly Seven's doing," he said softly.

"Not entirely. No false modesty, now! You were forced to grow up much too soon, but even when you were a half-drone who didn't know who or what he was, you were thoughtful. You didn't jump to conclusions and made decisions that were good, not only for you, but for the rest of the little Borglets. Except for the one you called First, of course, but that was his fault, not yours. You would have saved him if he hadn't refused to follow your advice. Because of the way you've already handled the trials you've undergone I thought this could work. I wasn't disappointed. My son is right. You're just as worthy a teacher as your captain."

"Didn't you expect it to happen this way?" Icheb said, smiling slightly. "The Q are omniscient, aren't they?"

"The Continuum likes to think so. I know better. Our supposed omniscience doesn't protect us from making mistakes. I hope we've solved the problem of my wayward partner Q. We shall see. I will be around helping my son, though. I promise you that. And I'll let him come see you every now and then while you're at the Academy. And afterwards, too."

"He may have to visit me here on Voyager, then. It's going to take us a long time to get to the Alpha Quadrant. I'll probably be graduated from the Academy and an officer on Voyager by the time we arrive."

"Oh, it might not take you all that long. If your captain does the 'homework' Q just gave her, she might discover a shortcut home very soon."

Icheb shrugged his shoulders, not quite sure what to say. The female Q smiled warmly at him and held out her arms to hug Icheb in the same manner she'd just embraced her son -- although he was relieved that she skipped the kiss. "Thank you, again, Icheb, for all you've done for my Q. I think he'll do well. I know you will."

Q's mother twitched a little. Icheb assumed she was going to do that same flashing light thing that seemed to be the way a Q moved around the universe, but she stopped and smiled at him. "Oh, one more piece of advice, Icheb. That research you were doing on nanoviruses? The ones your captain and that spunky B'Elanna Torres used when they invaded the Borg cube to save the drones who went to Unimatrix Zero? You might want to continue working on it. The pathogen-creating DNA your parents introduced into your genome might be something you'd want to experiment with, too. Pathogens, nanoviruses -- they might be modified into a weapon against the Borg Queen one day. You never know."

For a nanosecond, Icheb felt like he did when those tendrils of energy erupted from the Delta Flyer's Tactical console -- but in a good way. The Doctor, Seven, and Icheb had been experimenting with the things Q had suggested, but they'd never thought to consider using both of them at the same time to create a weapon against the Borg. Q's mom must have read his thoughts again, because her mouth twisted into an amused half-smile. She bobbed her head ever so slightly, but it was enough. Icheb was on the right track.

Suddenly there was another flash of light. Icheb was alone again, standing in the Doctor's Sickbay office. All the Q's were apparently gone -- for now -- but they'd left Icheb with much to ponder, and even more to investigate.

Icheb was acutely aware of something else, an emptiness deep inside him. It was strange. Despite all the trouble Q-Ball had caused and how short a time had passed since he'd left to meet up with his father on Golos Prime, Icheb already missed him. Spending time with a buddy, even a wild and crazy one like Q-Ball, had given Icheb a taste of what his life might have been like if he were a teenager living on Earth. It was an experience he hoped he'd never forget.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

When Icheb entered the mess hall that evening, the entire room seemed to be vibrating. The noise level was unusually loud; the accumulated voices of the crew was pitched higher than on most evenings. Everyone was excited by the prospect that direct contact with the Alpha Quadrant would no longer be restricted to once a month. Thanks to Seven, Harry Kim, Reg Barclay, and the rest of the Project Pathfinder team, they'd developed a method allowing daily contact between Voyager and the Alpha Quadrant through the compressed datastream. The daily transmission window would only last for eleven minutes, but that was enough time for quick exchanges of messages and data. Even better, the crew would now be able to have actual conversations with their family members in what amounted to "real time." Each visit would only last for three minutes, and only three crew members could have a turn each day, but to ask a question and have it answered immediately? Priceless.

Icheb looked for Seven when he arrived, even though he didn't expect to see her. She was scheduled to work in Astrometrics tonight. Icheb moved through the line and chose his dinner, served by Chell. Neelix was deep in conversation with one of the Delaney sisters -- Megan, Icheb thought -- but Tom, B'Elanna and Harry were nowhere to be seen. He noticed Freddie Bristow waving him to a seat next to his. With a bit of reluctance, since Icheb actually had hoped to enjoy his meal while conversing with the statuesque Megan, Icheb walked over to Freddie's corner and took the seat he'd saved for him.

Fortunately, when Megan's conversation with Neelix ended, she picked up her tray and chose the chair next to Icheb's. She'd barely lowered herself into it before Freddie asked, "What number did you get?"

"I picked 137."

Freddie groaned in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Megan."

"Oh, don't feel sorry for me. My sister drew number 32. We'll have twice the number of opportunities to chat with our family. We'll just show up at each other's communication window. We always do things together anyway. I'm glad no one thought it would be fair if we only had one chip between us!"

"Congratulations, Ensign," Icheb said, as he took another bite of his dinner. He was getting used to Leola Root-Pleeka Rind Casserole. Finally. It was definitely an acquired taste.

"What number did you get, Freddie?" Megan asked.

"I got 94," he groaned. "It could be worse, though. Sue Nicoletti drew 146! That's the last number of them all!"

"What about you, Icheb?"

"I didn't draw a chip. I don't know anyone in the Alpha Quadrant."

"That doesn't seem fair, Icheb," Megan replied, furrowing her brow. "Even Neelix drew one, and he doesn't know anyone in the Alpha Quadrant, either. And he got a pretty low number, too. I think his chip was number 19."

"Perhaps he's been corresponding with someone in the Alpha Quadrant. I heard he's been working on a cookbook. It would certainly be unique." Icheb looked down at his plate. "He'd need to consult with someone about ingredient substitutions. No one in the Federation ever heard of leola root or pleeka rind before Voyager was lost in the Delta Quadrant."

"Lucky them," Freddie remarked with a grimace. He'd been on Voyager from the very beginning and had never taken to either ingredient--even though, like today, he often had to eat them.

Megan slowly chewed a mouthful of her casserole, apparently lost in thought. Once she'd swallowed it, she remarked, "Icheb, I think you do have people to speak with in the Alpha Quadrant. You're an Academy cadet. Wouldn't it be a good idea to reach out to some of the professors for guidance on your studies?"

"Seven and I have exchanged letters with Professor Reagan in Stellar Cartography. He requested we examine certain sectors in detail. He's very interested in how particular star systems look from this direction. Unmanned probes can only do so much. I never thought about speaking with him over the communication link with the Alpha Quadrant, though."

"If I were you, I'd speak to Commander Tuvok and ask him if he thinks you should consult with Professor Reagan or any of the other Academy professors," Megan advised. "He already has so much to do as the head of Security and Tactical. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd appreciate a little direct support from Academy staff to take some of the pressure off him."

"Thanks, Ensign. I'll consider doing that. Up to now all of my genetics research has been considered an independent study project. I work with the Doctor and Seven whenever I need to consult with someone. Commander Tuvok told me it's not an area of his expertise," although he wants to know if I come up with anything that could be used as a weapon, particularly against the Borg, Icheb thought, but he wasn't about to mention this to Freddie and Megan.

"There you go! I wouldn't be surprised if Starfleet Medical was extremely interested in your research," Freddie exclaimed.

"There's only one problem. I don't have a chip to allow me to speak with anyone in the Alpha Quadrant."

"Are you sure? Neelix said there was one for every member of the crew. Why don't you see if he's got yours put aside?" Megan bobbed her head towards Neelix, who was approaching their table at that very moment.

"Icheb! I've been looking for you. Here's the last chip, so it's yours. I'm sorry about the number. It's very high."

Icheb read the number as Neelix handed it to him and began to chuckle. "Well, it looks like I'll have plenty of time to send out letters to find out if anyone from the Academy might want to speak with me." He displayed his isolinear chip. It was number 142.

=/\=

When Icheb spoke with Tuvok the next morning, the lieutenant commander offered to send out letters in the next day's datastream to professors in several departments. "As your primary instructor and counselor, arranging for appropriate courses is my responsibility. Ensign Megan Delaney's advice is sound. I will certainly include a letter to Starfleet Medical's research department, emphasizing your considerable accomplishments to date in the field of genetics. Thanks to your high number, we have ample time before a direct interview with anyone there can take place. We may also be able to arrange contact with professors in other required courses who can supervise your program through datastream communications."

"Thank you, Commander. I know how busy you are. It must be difficult to fit all of your tasks into your daily schedule when you also must find the time to work with me."

"I welcome my work with you, Cadet. As time goes by, I value my years of teaching at the Academy more and more. I shared those years with my wife and children, who lived on Earth with me then. By guiding you through the Academy experience -- albeit by long distance -- I find I am reliving many of the more rewarding aspects of my academic life there. Having direct contact with Academy staff will only enhance my memories of that special time. It will be most gratifying to share your progress with some of the instructors with whom I had the privilege of working during my tenure."

It did not escape Icheb's notice that Commander Tuvok's positive time at the Academy was surely due, in great part, to the fact that he was able to share it with his family. Tuvok hadn't seen them for over seven years. Thanks to his studies of the peoples of the Federation, Icheb was well aware that even the most stoic of Vulcans missed their families, even though they would never admit this to anyone other than those family members.

Icheb did not mention this when he took his leave from his primary instructor, but he didn't forget it, either.

=/\=

Stardate 54735.4  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

I expected the crew's good mood from having direct contact with the Alpha Quadrant would last a while. I quickly discovered I was mistaken. The source of this discontent has nothing to do with the interactions of the crew with their families per se. Rather, one individual's contact with the Alpha Quadrant has caused much controversy.

The Doctor has written a holonovel.  This fact is not particularly surprising. Given the amount of off-duty time the Doctor likes to spend pursuing various hobbies on the holodeck, one could even say it was inevitable. However, the Doctor submitted this holonovel to a publisher, a Mr. Aldon Broht of Broht and Forrester, a company reputed to produce "high quality" programs which are distributed for exhibition in holosuites throughout the Federation, and, possibly, even beyond.

According to Seven, who monitors the Project Watson technology during visits between crew and family members or friends, this Broht stroked the Doctor's ego beyond reason. "The publisher told him his characters were 'completely believable.'" she told me. "He compared the Doctor's work to Tolstoy's. Even I know enough about Tolstoy's work to realize the Doctor is unlikely to have produced anything of similar quality." Since I'd read the very impressive War and Peace for my Academy literature course, I strongly suspected Seven's opinion was accurate.

I didn't think more of it at the time, but the next day, I was sitting nearby in the mess hall when Tom Paris told B'Elanna, Harry, and Neelix about the holonovel. After receiving access to "Photons Be Free" from the Doctor, Tom had experienced the program. He was very upset about the manner in which the Doctor portrayed the crew. When B'Elanna and Harry suggested to Tom that he was merely jealous of the Doctor's success, he suggested they visit it themselves. They did. So did the captain, Neelix, and Chakotay. And I got a chance to experience it, too. When it was over, I was as upset about it as Tom was.

"Captain Jenkins" murdered a seriously injured crewman so that her pet helmsman -- "Lieutenant Marseilles" -- could be treated for a minor injury. Lieutenant Marseilles was also "a horndog," to use Tom's term, who used his status as a field medic to give female crew members "physicals" that were actually sexual interludes. The poor EMH was sent on wild goose chases all over the ship, burdened by a mobile emitter that weighed at least 50 kilos. Except for a rather interesting mustache and dark hair, Lieutenant Marseilles was Tom Paris's double.

"Ensign Kymble" was a hypochondriac. The Bajoran first officer had Chakotay's facial features, except that his tattoo covered the entire left side of his face. He was violently prejudiced against holograms. In fact, the entire crew treated the poor EMH on the "Vortex"-- at best -- like an inconvenient piece of malfunctioning technology. The chief engineer, "Torrey," may have resembled a totally human B'Elanna Torres, but Tom said she was a "nasty piece of work." Torrey considered the EMH to be a mere tool, just like the hyperspanner she shook in his face. She didn't want the EMH in Engineering at any time, even to treat an injured crew member.

Captain Jenkins' crimes included decompiling the hapless EMH's program for daring to expand his program beyond the strictly medical. In fact, the Holo EMH's only ally was the lovely "Three of Eight," who tried to help him escape his fate but failed. In the end, the EMH's personality subroutines were scrubbed of any human characteristics; he became a program suitable for emergency use only.

I had trouble finding a character who looked like me until I noticed "Bechi," the Bolian assisting the ship's Klingon cook "K'Nellis." The EMH had to cure an epidemic created by the two because they'd served the Vortex's crew contaminated food. My character was very rude and, I have to say, extremely filthy in his personal habits. The only part of the scene I enjoyed was seeing Neelix in Klingon garb. He was a sight to behold.

The senior staff is meeting in the Conference Room as I dictate this log entry. I expect to add an addendum later, after I learn the outcome.

=/\=

Personal Log Addendum

The Doctor insisted that he hadn't actually portrayed any of the crew. The resemblance of his holocharacters to the their counterparts on Voyager is "totally coincidental," even though the Vortex had been "thrown into deep space by a powerful entity," just like Voyager. When the captain and other members of the senior staff expressed concern that people in the Alpha Quadrant might think they actually did act like that towards the Doctor, he dismissed the idea as absurd. He wasn't writing about himself. The story was meant to illustrate how "organics" treat "photonics" in the real world. He simply wrote the story this way because his life on Voyager was all he actually knew. He refused to change his masterpiece in any way.

I don't think this is the last we're going to hear about this program. When Tom told me about the meeting, he let slip that he has a "plan" to make the Doctor see the error of his ways. He was very mysterious and didn't tell me anything more. I hope Tom is successful in whatever action he takes. I don't mind being Bolian in the program, or a cook's assistant, but the fact that my character has terrible hygiene is extremely offensive to me.

=/\=

Stardate 54738.4  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

Tom "revised" the Doctor's holonovel and the Doctor discovered it today. Instead of the story of a poor, mistreated EMH on a ship lost in space, the revised program changes the protagonist  to a poor, badly treated medical assistant forced to serve under an egotistical, petty, and lascivious EMH on a ship lost in space. This EMH takes advantage of his position by giving a new version of the Doctor's Three of Eight (Two of Three, because there are three, and they're triplets!) an aphrodisiac and taking advantage of her sexually.

Naturally, the Doctor was enraged. Tom calmed him down by assuring him a backup copy of his original program was available in the holodeck databank. He pointed out, however, that the Doctor's reaction to Tom's version of the EMH was the same as that of his crewmates when they saw characters who were modeled much too closely on them. He left it up to the Doctor whether or not to make changes in his program so people experiencing it wouldn't confuse his characters with Voyager's actual crew.

After talking it over with Neelix, the Doctor decided that altering the names and the setting somewhat to relieve his crewmates anxieties would be a good idea. He contacted Broht and asked him to give him a few more weeks to complete his revision, to "fine tune" the characters. The publisher refused to accept any revisions at all, even though he'd promised the Doctor he could do so in an earlier communication. To his horror, the Doctor found out the program, advertised as "written by Voyager's EMH," has been distributed throughout the quadrant, well in advance of the date Broht had told the Doctor it would be. Tthousands have already viewed it.

When the captain and the Doctor demanded Broht withdraw the holonovel, he told them he would not. He didn't need to, he said. Since the Doctor is a hologram, he is not a "person" under Federation Law and has no right to control his own creation. Only a "person" qualifies for protected status as an artist. The fact that he entered into a contract with the EMH doesn't matter. I don't think this Broht realizes that by this action, he's illustrating the very point the Doctor was trying to make. Holograms, like Voyager's EMH, have NO rights. Or maybe he does realize it but simply doesn't care.

Because of Broht's intransience, the captain and the EMH have asked for a hearing from a Federation arbitrator, demanding that Broht be ordered to recall the unrevised version of the Doctor's work and prevent him from distributing it again before the Doctor has the chance to make the revisions he now realizes are necessary. It's unfortunate this happened. The Doctor should have anticipated people in the Alpha Quadrant might think we're all like the characters in his program -- or this Aldon Broht of Broht and Forrester.

=/\=

Icheb was extremely curious about how the Doctor's hearing was going, but Seven was reluctant to divulge any details. "All communications through Project Watson are considered privileged. I am not to speak of them to any outsider without permission," she responded when Icheb asked her to tell him about it. "My function is to monitor the equipment during the transmission. In a way, I am the equivalent of the 'Vortex's'  EMH, after he was eviscerated of his personality subroutines." Icheb had to smile at this image. As far as he was concerned, Seven's personality was indelible.

That didn't mean Seven was as unaffected by her limited status as Just Another Piece of Project Watson's Technology as she claimed. Without providing any specific descriptions of the interactions she'd viewed, Seven conveyed to Icheb that she now understood how important these meetings were to the crew and, especially, to their loved ones in the Alpha Quadrant. They finally had the chance to communicate directly with family members who once had mourned them, thinking they were dead and gone forever.  As she confided to Icheb one morning, she planned to offer the chip assigned to her to one of their crewmates whose communication window had been truncated after technical difficulties cropped up halfway through his session with his parents. She was certain this person would benefit more from using her chip than she would.

However, when Seven returned to Borg Central that afternoon, Icheb noticed she still held the isolinear chip in her hand. "Didn't you find Harry?" Icheb asked her.

"I did," she replied quietly.

"Isn't he going to call his mother again to wish her a happy birthday?"

Seven was silent for a moment. "He said he doesn't want my chip. He 'overreacted' when his scheduled transmission was cut short. He believes I should use it myself."

"Both of your parents were assimilated."

She stood still for a moment, with a pensive expression on her face. She finally said, "Ensign Kim reminded me that just because I can no longer communicate with my parents, it doesn't mean I have no family in the Alpha Quadrant. My father has a sister on Earth."

"Will you call her?"

"I don't know. I believe I met Aunt Irene once, when I was a little girl. I'm not sure. She may have forgotten me."

Icheb smiled slightly. "I'm sure she hasn't. You should use the chip to speak with her."

Seven fingered the chip absently and asked Icheb, "Do you wish to be with me if I do?"

Icheb considered the question. "Perhaps it would be best if you spoke to her by yourself the first time. If it goes well, you can tell her about me. I can always meet her next time."

It was strange to see Seven so unsure of herself as she contemplated her response. Eventually, she nodded her head. "That is logical. I have sufficient time to decide how to proceed. We expect one more day of testimony in the hearing concerning the Doctor's complaint. Until that is over I won't have an opportunity to contact my aunt."

Despite her phrasing, Icheb thought Seven might still be unsure about the course she should take. She was continuing to turn the chip over and over in her right hand, the one without any implants marking her as Borg. Then she suddenly turned away from him and mounted the platform to her regeneration cubicle. Clearly, their discussion was over. She would make up her own mind without any further consultation with Icheb.

=/\=

Two days later, Seven informed Icheb that she intended to use her chip to speak with her aunt. Once Seven returned to Borg Central, Icheb asked, "Did your conversation with your Aunt Irene go well?"

"It was an interesting interchange. I thought I recalled meeting her once, and she said that I did -- more than once. I never remembered actually being on Earth, but she told me she once cared for me in her home while my parents went away for a weekend."

"You were a perfect child, I'm sure," Icheb said, smiling.

"I was not," she said, in a stern tone of voice but with a bemused light in her eyes. "When my parents left me with her, I was very angry. I locked myself in her bathroom. The only way she could get me out was to offer me a strawberry tart. She said I was the most stubborn child she'd ever met."

Icheb was taken aback. "So your conversation with your aunt didn't go well?"

"On the contrary, when my three minutes were up, I wished my time could have lasted a little longer. I would have liked to hear more about my life before I became Borg. You know I love to eat strawberries . . ." At Icheb's nod, she continued, "I loved them as a child, too. But Aunt Irene said I would only eat the most perfect ones." A tender smile crossed her lips. "Apparently I cannot blame the Borg for my insistence on having my own way -- or my perfectionism. I possessed both traits from early childhood."

Icheb smiled at her observation. It was true. While Icheb always sought to perform his tasks as perfectly as possible, he was nowhere near as single-minded as Seven in that regard. No one had ever accused him of being "stubborn," either, other than Seven herself; and that was only when he virtually forced her to accept his cortical node because hers was failing.

"Did you have an opportunity to tell your aunt about me?"

"I did. She said she was sorry you weren't available today. She's looking forward to meeting you during our next conversation."

"I'm looking forward to meeting her, too. It will be nice to have an aunt."

"A great aunt," the perfectionist Seven corrected.

"I'm sure she is great," Icheb answered, as they both smiled warmly at his very small joke. As he turned away to go to his computer console to work on a paper for Commander Tuvok, Icheb realized he really did look forward to meeting another member of his family. There were so few, with one of the most precious now far away and getting further away by the minute.

=/\=

Stardate 54744.8   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

The Arbitrator announced his decision today. While the captain and the Doctor had hoped for the EMH to receive the designation of a person under the law, this did not happen. Since the Arbitrator said the scope of this hearing was relatively narrow, he was not prepared to go that far. He indicated, however, that the issue of holographic rights wasn't going away, and he expects there will be further hearings and decisions in the future to clarify the issue.

However, the Doctor didn't actually lose his case. The Arbitrator conferred the legal definition of "artist" upon the Doctor, which gives him the right to control his own work. Broht was ordered to recall all copies of "Photons Be Free" from distribution immediately.

There will be no revised holonovel distributed by Broht and Forrester. Broht was very upset by the Arbitrator's decision and will not publish the new version. I hope he obeys the Arbitrator's decree and recalls all of the ones already playing in holosuites. From the devious way he acted towards the Doctor, I would not trust him to do this.

The Doctor may have lost Broht's services, but he's going to revise his creation anyway and look for a new publisher. The controversy may even make others more interested, since the hearing was covered by Federation news outlets. Tom offered to provide a "second pair of eyes" on the new version of "Photons Be Free." The Doctor will return the favor by assisting Tom in preparing his "Captain Proton" adventure series for submission to publishers.

When I heard about this decision, I congratulated the Doctor and wished him well. The Doctor said he still planned on having a Bolian chef's assistant that looked a lot like me in his revision, but he promised that he wouldn't be "skanky." I told the Doctor I would appreciate that change very much. (Tom told him I was upset about "Bechi's" terrible hygiene. I think Tom must have used the word "skanky." I had to look up the term after the Doctor spoke to me.)

Nevertheless, I will withhold judgment about the success of the revision until after I see the new version of me.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Since the mess hall was not big enough to accommodate everyone comfortably, the captain allowed Neelix to set up in Holodeck One. All but the crew members serving on their duty stations were planning to attend. Icheb remembered the last time an event was held here. It was a much happier occasion: B'Elanna and Tom's wedding. Mezoti was still on board then. He would have liked her to be with him now.

They had experienced death together on their cube when they felt First die through their mental link. If she were still on Voyager, the fact they'd shared that experience would have helped both of them endure this new loss.

The crew of Voyager's links of friendship had grown into an extended family. Even without the mental link of the Borg, everyone had felt the painful jolt of losing one of their own. Icheb felt Lieutenant Joseph Carey's loss more acutely than he did when his fellow immature Borg expired. He'd never really liked First. Joe was a great engineer who'd submerged his natural disappointment at being passed over for the post of Chief Engineer to become B'Elanna's strong second in command of Engineering. Icheb knew this was so, because on one occasion, when Icheb was working late in Engineering, he'd asked Joe why, since he was regular Starfleet, he hadn't been named the chief.

"Ah," Joe had said with a grimace. Icheb hurriedly apologized and told him to forget he'd asked. Joe shook his head and answered, "It's a valid question, Icheb. As a cadet, you should learn exactly how things work in a hierarchy. Normally, the second officer, Tuvok, would have been promoted as acting First after Commander Cavit's death, and I probably would have been named acting Chief Engineer to replace Lieutenant Commander Ziegler.

"But there was nothing normal about our situation. When we were thrown into the Delta Quadrant, we had to integrate the crew of the Val Jean with Voyager's. The captain needed to find a way to make that work. It made sense for Chakotay, as the captain of the Maquis, to become first officer. He'd been through the Academy and had reached the rank of commander before resigning from Starfleet to join the Maquis. He had the right credentials for the position by training and experience. After the captain named him her first officer, the commander recommended B'Elanna to become chief engineer. In retrospect, having a second Maquis named as a senior officer and head of a department was a smart thing for the captain to do."

"So you're saying Lieutenant Torres was named to the position for what amounts to political reasons?"

"Only partially. For such a young woman -- who hadn't even graduated from the Academy -- she's an amazingly skilled engineer. I've been in Starfleet for quite a few years, and I'm an expert in our systems. But B'Elanna . . . sometimes I can't believe what she comes up with, especially when we need to patch up the ship. You know the bad shape Voyager was in when we put down on that planet for maintenance a few months ago, right? I guess she got a lot of training in how to jury-rig a spacecraft when she was in the Maquis. Even when we couldn't obtain all our materials to spec, she managed to work around what we didn't have and repair the ship with what we did. I wasn't sorry she was the one in charge during that ordeal."

"It bothered you she was promoted over you, though?"

Joe had stopped working on his task and had thought for at least a minute and a half before saying, "It bothered the hell out of me for the first year or so. I'm an excellent engineer, Icheb. If we were in the Alpha Quadrant, I'd be chief engineer on any ship I served on by now. But we're still thirty years out from the Alpha Quadrant. Sometime in our second year, I think it was, hard as it was for me to swallow, I realized the captain had made the right choice. Some engineers have a quality that is beyond pure knowledge. Maybe it's instinct. Whatever it is, she has it; and when I'm honest with myself, I know I don't, at least not to the degree she has. I'd be fine as chief on a vessel in Federation space. But out here? With no Federation support? B'Elanna has done it for almost seven years now. I'm happy to work with her and support her. The only other person on Voyager as qualified as B'Elanna is the captain, and she can't command the ship and be chief engineer, too! So I've made peace with my place on this ship."

Then Joe said something that now haunted Icheb. "If B'Elanna's being the boss means I get home safe to my wife and boys, that's all that matters to me."

Joe Carey wasn't making it home. His body had been placed inside an empty photon torpedo casing and shot off into space this morning. This gathering was a celebration of his life, but although Joe was of Irish descent, it was far more subdued than the Irish wakes Icheb had researched in the database when Neelix asked Icheb to help him plan Joe's. The ones described in the database were sometimes wild affairs. Not this time. Small knots of people were scattered around the hall, speaking in soft tones as they shared memories of Joe. Occasionally, someone laughed a bit, but laughter wasn't contagious at this gathering. Icheb deduced the crew was in shock over the manner of Joe's death. It had been so unnecessary, so senseless.

Admiral Hendricks, one of Captain Janeway's Academy professors, gave her a mission: retrieve Friendship One, a warp-powered probe which was sent out into the galaxy three hundred years ago. Its purpose was to greet any other races it might encounter, to let them know the people of Earth wished to be friends. Its path had taken it to an area of space near Voyager's current position. Since this was the first actual assignment they'd received from Starfleet since Voyager was pulled into the Delta Quadrant, the captain was eager to complete it successfully.

Icheb assisted the team in Astrometrics that tracked the probe to its current location: a world ravaged by a nuclear winter. Radiation poisoned the atmosphere. Ironically, the radiation came about when the inhabitants of this planet experimented with the antimatter powering Friendship One, which had landed virtually intact. The people had no idea how to control an antimatter reaction once it got out of control, lost containment, and destroyed the environment of their world. A remnant of the population still clung to life in caverns below ground; but the radiation levels were so high the survivors were on the verge of extermination.

The away team, consisting of Chakotay, Harry, Tom, Neelix, and Joe Carey, had been assigned the task of finding the probe. They did, but the latter three were taken hostage by a group of the inhabitants. When the captain offered to trade food and medicine for one of the hostages, the leader, a violent man, shot Joe the instant before he was transported up to Voyager.

While the rest of the inhabitants had no reason to trust the remaining hostages, even they were stunned by Verin's brutal act. After capturing a scientist who thought he knew a way of repairing the damage to the environment, the crew of Voyager put his theories to the test, and the EMH supplied medications to treat the populace. The skies cleared for the first time in many years, and the people, now cured of their radiation sickness, could finally hope to rebuild their world.

But Joe was dead.

=/\=

"How are you doing, Icheb?" Neelix asked softly. Icheb was startled; he hadn't noticed the Talaxian's approach.

"As well as anyone, I guess. It's so unbelievable. We tried so hard to save him the way Seven saved you once with modified nanoprobes. It was no use."

"I wondered if that technique she used on me had been tried. He'd been shot in the chest, not the head. Seven told me once that if the neural passageways weren't damaged, it would work."

"But they were damaged. The head injury he suffered when you were taken hostage was more serious than it appeared. The radiation in the environment accelerated the deterioration of the tissues of his brain. And with the catastrophic blood loss he suffered from the shot that ruptured his heart, his injuries were too grave for our nanoprobes to repair."

Neelix shook his head. "It's just terrible. I feel so badly for his family. If I had known what that Verin was going to do, I'd have insisted I be the one traded for the food and medicine."

"Neelix! You would be dead!"

"Oh, I've been dead before! Seriously, I didn't have a head injury. Seven's therapy might have worked on me again." He looked away then, focusing on something from memory, Icheb thought, and added, "And even if it didn't, I don't have family anywhere waiting for me to come home. I don't want to die, Icheb. I was suicidal for a time after Seven brought me back to life, but I'm over that now. I'd love to see the Alpha Quadrant; but sometimes I wonder what will happen to me when we get there. I'll be the only Talaxian in the Alpha Quadrant."

"I'll be the only Brunali," Icheb reminded him.

"Oh, but you're young! You're an Academy cadet, and you're doing so well in your studies. Everyone talks about the bright future you have ahead of you. I'm quite a bit older than you, and sometimes . . . well, I do miss my own people. Maybe if Kes was still here, I'd feel differently; but it's just me."

"Neelix . . ." Icheb murmured sympathetically, "I never knew you felt that way."

"Oh, don't mind me. I'm usually a very positive person, you know that. Being down on the planet and seeing Joe executed by that madman Verin -- it's gotten to me, I guess. I'll shake myself out of it and land on my feet. I always do." Neelix looked around and sighed. "I see  B'Elanna and the captain aren't here. I hope they don't isolate themselves and dwell on what happened again."

"I know B'Elanna feels terrible about it because Joe took her place on the away team."

"That's true, Icheb, but with all the radiation and her pregnancy, it would have been so bad for the baby, even if we'd only been on the surface for a very short time to retrieve the probe."

The full import of what Neelix had said earlier registered in Icheb's consciousness. "Neelix, what did you mean by 'again'?"

"Oh, I guess you don't know. You weren't on board then, that time we went through the first Void. I guess the official logs don't contain all the details." When Icheb shook his head, Neelix continued, "When we went through that awful blackness for weeks and we thought it was going to be for years, B'Elanna and the captain both became seriously depressed. We found out later that B'Elanna was . . . well, I'm not going to say. It's not my place. But it's no secret she was very upset after we learned of the destruction of the Maquis. She hid her depression from everyone for quite a while, even from Tom. Once Chakotay found out and confronted her with the evidence, something could be done about it. Eventually, B'Elanna got over it.

"During that time, the captain locked herself away in her quarters and wasn't seen by anyone other than Chakotay for weeks. She brooded about the choice she'd made which stranded Voyager in the Delta Quadrant. Then we encountered a Maalon garbage man who had a secret way into the Void and was dumping radioactive waste there, poisoning the race of people who lived in that dark place. The commander managed to get her out of her quarters when we really needed her, and she dealt with that crisis. We were able to cut years off our trip through the Void by traveling through this 'Vortex' and into normal space -- incidentally, destroying it as we blew through it. The captain functions more normally now; but honestly, in some ways, I'm not sure, even now, she's completely over that depression. She isn't the same Captain Janeway I first met."

"Thank you for telling me, Neelix. If there's anything I can do to help either of them, I will."

"I'm sure you will, Icheb. Well, I've got to go mingle. I am the morale officer, you know."

As Icheb said goodbye to Neelix, he thought the morale officer could use his own spirits raised. Once Neelix moved off to speak with Lieutenant Rollins and Ensign Mulcahy, Icheb glanced around the room to see if there was anyone else at the gathering he'd like to speak with. Tom and B'Elanna had left early. They'd only made a token appearance, preferring to grieve by themselves in their quarters. The captain and Chakotay were gone, too. Tuvok and Harry were on bridge duty. Seven was in Astrometrics. He couldn't see Naomi or Ensign Wildman, either. In fact, the crowd was rapidly thinning. Icheb didn't have any actual responsibilities now, and he didn't feel like standing around much longer. He stepped into the corridor outside of the holodeck and activated his communication badge. "Naomi, are you doing anything right now?"

:::I'm at Marla's, playing with Aimee. If you're not busy, why don't you come by and keep us company? Mom had to go on duty, and I was too sad to stay on the Holodeck or alone in our quarters without her.:::

"If Marla wouldn't mind, I'd like to come."

Marla didn't mind. After spending a pleasant hour playing with Aimee and conversing with Naomi, Icheb felt better. Later, before he stepped onto the platform and began the very short regeneration cycle he still needed to keep his remaining implants functioning properly, he spent an hour contemplating his existence. He was now on a par with a wholly organic person such as Naomi, since he could not expect to live a life much longer than that ordained by his species. It could be much shorter, since injury or illness beyond the ability of nanoprobes to heal could end his life at any time. Photonics like the Doctor would enjoy their existence for only as long as their programs were maintained to prevent them from degrading. The cybernetic immortality of the Collective would last as long as the Borg as a whole did, but even that powerful race of drones could be destroyed, as their ill-fated invasion of Fluidic Space indicated.

One way to overcome his ephemeral nature was the keeping of a personal log. As long as his log existed, the thoughts he recorded within would be available to those who came after him. Like the Doctor or the Borg, this cybernetic immortality had limits. If Starfleet ceased to exist and all of its cyber records were destroyed, his log would disappear. There was no escaping his own mortality. Even the universe itself would expire someday.

There was only one thing to do: to live life to the fullest, every day. No one really knew when the end would come.

He was sorry Joe's life had ended before he'd returned to his family, but it was comforting to know Joe had visited with them through Project Watson only a couple of weeks ago. Icheb was certain Joe's wife and boys would cherish that memory. Because they lost Joe so soon after they saw him, it might be a bittersweet one, but at least they'd have it. The families of those who'd perished during the early years of Voyager's journey never had that consolation.

If nothing else, this experience proved to Icheb that even three minutes of time could be of great value. When Seven again spoke to her Aunt Irene through Project Watson, Icheb would make sure to be with her to meet his future great aunt. He didn't know how many chances he'd get. Life in the Delta Quadrant was precarious, and all the more precious because of it.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 54792.4   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

Q's mother suggested I could develop a weapon that could be used against the Borg, and she hinted that nanoprobes might be a viable way to deliver it to them. I believe I've made a breakthrough, but the delivery system is not going to be through nanoprobes. The Doctor mentioned a method that was developed on Earth during the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries to treat various genetic conditions that might be worthwhile for me to study. It was excellent advice. I've discovered another way of inserting genetic material into cells, such as the ones my parents put inside me, which proved so deadly to drones linked with the Collective. It may even be the method my parents used.

Retroviruses, in their most virulent forms, can be deadly, but when the genes that make them that way are removed and replaced with DNA to repair defective genes they can provide health rather than illness. The retrovirus penetrates the nuclei of cells, and the healing DNA it carries can cure medical conditions which are antithetical to life itself. In the 2030's on Earth, several inherited diseases were finally wiped out through this application, including the degenerative and fatal illness known as Huntington's Disease.

I've created a prototype serum which can be injected into a person, turning him or her into . . . I guess I would have to call him or her a "Typhoid Mary" to the Borg. Or maybe simply another Icheb. Unfortunately, I am unable to test this serum on myself, as I would prefer to do to avoid endangering anyone else if it doesn't work. I already carry this agent in my body, and if the Borg ever assimilate me again, I will infect that Borg vessel in the same way I did the first time they captured me. A volunteer would be needed to see if this agent can be transferred to anyone else. From my research, I've determined the pathogen works by destroying the links between drones. Those affected are unable to function within an integrated hive organism and behave erratically. Their bodies, and therefore their part of the Hive, would degenerate into chaos.

I'm not certain this chaos can be transmitted from cube to cube, however, unless another Borg cube's drones came to that vessel to retrieve parts, thereby "catching" the condition from the dead and dying drones. If a drone is no longer linked with the Borg Queen and the rest of the Collective, they also would not "catch" this chaotic condition. Any who have been severed from the Hive, including the drones of the Resistance, would not be affected. From what I've learned about this "inert" DNA in my body, I believe Seven is fortunate she was already a former Borg when she came onto our Children's Collective cube. Likewise, the incomplete nature of our Children's Collective's assimilation prevented us from being destroyed through this means. We were never linked directly to the rest of the Hive and the Borg Queen.

This morning I spoke with the Doctor and Seven about my discoveries. Seven was quite disconcerted that I'd conducted this type of research without her knowledge. The Doctor intervened on my behalf. He told her he'd undertaken similar experiments, although in his case, he was trying to refine the serum he used to protect the captain, Lieutenant Torres, and Commander Tuvok in the matter of Unimatrix Zero (although in Commander Tuvok's case, it did not work as well as the Doctor expected). His efforts have continued because the captain and Lieutenant Commander Tuvok expressly ordered him to. He admitted experiments like these make him extremely uncomfortable, since actually using such a formula might be counter to his adherence to the Hippocratic Oath. I have no such qualms. After seeing what happened to my home planet, as well as the many individuals who have been enslaved by the Borg, I'm willing to do what I can to end the threat of assimilation and protect those who would be victimized by the Borg in the future.

At the end of our discussion, we decided it was time to alert Captain Janeway and Commander Tuvok about my discoveries. The captain has set aside time this afternoon for a meeting about this. Commander Chakotay will also be present for this meeting. Up to now he has been unaware of the exact nature of my research, although he knows I've been pursuing "anti-Borg weapon theories" as an independent study course. As far as the Doctor knows, Commander Chakotay has been informed of the EMH's efforts.

 I plan to provide an addendum to this log entry after the meeting.

=/\=

Personal Log Addendum

I was surprised to find the entire senior staff in the Conference Room when I presented my research. I thought my presentation would be controversial, but I was unprepared for the actual reception. They applauded me.

I explained it was too early for such a reaction, since we haven't been able to test whether or not it will work. When the captain explained the need for a volunteer, I was not surprised by the individual who raised his hand first. My conversation with Neelix at Lieutenant Carey's wake prepared me for the likelihood he would be willing to serve as a "guinea pig," or "horvan dalax" (the organism the Talaxians utilized before they outlawed animal experimentation, centuries ago, as the people of Earth did during the 21^st century).

There was a great deal of discussion about our exact testing protocol, particularly from Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. Since his experience with the Doctor's anti-assimilation serum was less than successful, he was concerned about what might happen to Neelix if he were to be injected with unmodified nanoprobes as part of the test. Seven was able to offer an alternative method. She noted that one of my early experimental procedures had involved a sample of my blood. I added unmodified nanoprobes to this sample. The nanoprobes worked initially on my blood, but after several hours, they no longer multiplied. Eventually, they completely broke down. This answers the question of  how the drones on my cube were able to put me into a maturation chamber at the time of my assimilation. It apparently took some time for the "infection" to spread throughout the vessel in the way it did. My parents may even have planned it to act in this manner so that the drones on the afflicted vessel would be unlikely to know the source of the contagion until it was too late to report the point of origin to the Queen.

In the first stage of the experiment, Neelix will receive the serum. We'll need to determine that the DNA has been well integrated into his body, particularly inside his blood cells, before proceeding to the next stage. After several days, nanoprobes will be introduced into a sample of Neelix's blood. We will carefully observe it to see how quickly the nanoprobes break down, assuming they do as they did in my blood sample. This method should not put Neelix into any direct danger from the procedure. Both the Doctor and I are tremendously relieved that this safer testing method will be utilized. Neelix, needless to say, is even happier!

I will continue to work on the serum for the next several days to make sure I have't overlooked anything. Neelix wishes to be a part of this work, which I welcome. Tom reminded me that Neelix brings his own unique perspective to problem solving; and, after all, he will be the subject of this experiment. He needs to know as much about it as possible beforehand.

=/\= 

Stardate 54812.4   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

The testing protocols for the serum based upon my genome have been completed. It works. Neelix is now a carrier of the same agent my parents planted in me when I was born, or possibly, shortly afterwards. I still have no memories of my early life, other than the few glimmers I recalled when Seven told me my true name.

We have both accepted the fact that if we should be sent against a Borg cube to infect it we almost certainly will die along with the drones. I am no longer young enough to be placed into a maturation chamber, apparently the means by which I survived the first time. Neelix is an adult, so he wouldn't have any protection against this serum, either.

Neelix and I now share a unique bond. We are individuals, but we are also sophisticated weapons. I'm glad I'm no longer the only one who possesses this deadly "gift," and that Neelix is in this with me. He has become a true friend. I hope we will never need to use this weapon against the Borg, but if it comes to pass that the captain must deploy either of us, I would volunteer to go. So would Neelix.

=/\=

Stardate 54837.4   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

I saw them in the mess hall at lunchtime. Seven is becoming quite attached to our first officer. Or, perhaps, she is merely showing it more. She actually seems to flirt with him!

They were lost together in the Ventu Preserve on Ledos. The shuttle on which they were traveling to a conference was destroyed in the crash, and they had to work together to survive. The Ventu are an indigenous people on Ledos who were being protected by an impenetrable shield from incursions by the other Ledosian culture. An earlier group of intersteller explorers (Seven believes them to be Species 312 due to the unusual shield configuration) apparently erected it many centuries ago. In order to save the commander and herself, Seven used the destroyed shuttle's deflector to take down the shield. Unfortunately, this left the Ventu open to "scientific evaluation" as "a resource to be developed" by the greater Ledosian society. From historical records, we know this would have ruined the Ventu culture.

The crew of Voyager managed to save Seven and Commander Chakotay. Tom Paris, who was off being tutored by a curmudgeonly piloting instructor because he'd been going a little too fast through Ledosian space earlier in the week, was able to retrieve the Ledosian "scientific evaluation team" and destroyed the deflector, restoring the shield.

I was happy to get Seven back, but this new flirtatiousness of hers is disconcerting. I know she decided not to go through with the removal of the emotion inhibitor chip before when she was having "personal relationship" issues. I now believe the commander -- or rather, a holocharacter based upon him -- was the object of her "relationship studies" at that time.

If she should become romantically involved with Commander Chakotay, what will happen to me? Will Seven still go through with adopting me if she commits to him as a permanent partner? Would the commander be interested in taking on an almost-grown former Borg for a son?

The adoption proceeding is working its way very slowly through Federation channels. Even with Operation Watson supplementing the Pathfinder datastream, things happen slowly from so far away. I'm sure everything would work out once the adoption has been established, but if their relationship becomes serious before that happens . . . well, perhaps I am looking for a problem that doesn't really exist. I hope that is all that I'm doing.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

"I don't believe I have any talent for cooking, Neelix," Icheb said sadly, looking glumly at the lump of dough he was holding. It was squishy and rather sticky in his hands. The flour Neelix had spread on the counter "to prevent sticking" was flying everywhere, much of it landing somewhere on Icheb whenever he tried to do what Neelix called kneading. If Neelix hadn't provided him with an apron that covered him from his chest down to his knees, he knew he would be covered with the powdery substance. As it was, Naomi had laughed at the streak of dough he'd somehow managed to smear over his eyebrows.

"Oh, don't worry, Icheb. It's like any other skill. Practice makes perfect. Or, at the very least, it makes you better at what you're practicing. With replicator technology, you won't have many opportunities to practice cooking, I'm afraid."

"But if you ever have to live in an environment without replicators, you'll want to know how to do some basic cooking," Naomi pointed out. "I think it's even covered in some Academy courses. It's good to learn a little about it now."

Icheb sighed. He pushed a forefinger into the dough. He didn't know what it was supposed to feel like. It was very discouraging. Neelix spoke up then. "You probably won't have to worry about cooking anything with dough anytime soon, other than these pierogi. Why don't we change places. You can mash up the cheese with the cooked onion, along with just a very little bit of this root vegetable. I'll worry about getting the dough kneaded and rolled out. It's a very springy dough, but I know how to handle it. I've made cheese pierogi before."

"Neelix, you aren't slipping any leola root into these, are you?" Naomi asked worriedly.

"Oh, no, no. Mr. Lessing has been growing these in his hydroponics bay. He discovered them a year ago while on an away mission. He traded with a farmer for them because he says they taste just like white potatoes grown on Earth. I think they're rather bland, myself, but Mr. Lessing and the rest of the crew seem to like them. I'm adding just a little bit to some of the cheese filling. For a little variety, you know."

"Then these aren't authentic, First Contact Day pierogi like Zefram Cochrane loved?" Naomi asked.

"This big bowl over here contains the regular cheese filling. Don't worry. Most of them will be Zefram Cochrane's favorite. I'm just experimenting with this other flavor."

"Adding a little Delta Quadrant flair?" Icheb asked, with a grin.

"As a matter of fact, no. I did my research. In Poland, on Earth, where pierogi originated, many flavors of filling were used. This cheese-onion-potato recipe is very traditional. That's one of the reasons I decided to try it. Once you've mashed all that up, Icheb, we'll taste it."

When Neelix said the filling was ready, they each took a small spoonful and compared it to the plain cheese version they'd already sampled. Icheb and Naomi looked at each other and smiled. "I like this flavor even better than the plain cheese ones," Naomi said.

"So do I," Icheb admitted.

"Well, then, we'll make up this batch and put it aside for us to eat later on. No one else has to know we've got these! They'll be our little secret. We'll share the plain cheesy ones with the rest of the crew, and they'll never know what they're missing," Neelix declared, grinning happily.

Looking at the huge bowl of cheese filling, Icheb asked, "How many of the cheese pierogi are you planning on making?"

"Oh, I think sixty dozen should do the trick."

Naomi and Icheb looked at each other with a panicked look on both of their faces. "That's over seven hundred pierogi!" Naomi exclaimed.

"Seven hundred twenty, to be precise," Icheb added.

"We'd better get busy making the first batch, team. We've only got four days until our First Contact Day party!" Neelix said brightly.

Icheb sighed. It was going to be a very long four days.

=/\=

After three days, they had formed seven hundred and forty-seven cheese pierogi. It had been a lot of work, but once he tasted one, slathered in butter and a little sauteed onion, Icheb had to acknowledge they were worth all that work. They were delicious. The "secret hoard" of cheese-onion-potato pierogi was safely stowed away in Neelix's freezing storage unit, ready for the First Contact Day "after party" Neelix promised his "team." He'd set aside some of the deep red condiment he'd made from ground up roots of some sort, too. Icheb was afraid to ask what was in it. The sauce was so pungent when he sniffed at it, his eyes began to water. Despite Neelix's assurances that it was a "traditional Polish horseradish sauce," Naomi and Icheb agreed it was probably another experimental recipe of the Talaxian chef's, a way to sneak more of the leola root Neelix loved that most of the crew disliked onto the menu.

The last day before the party was fun. They made decorations to dress up the tables in the mess hall. Naomi promised to put them in place just before the party was scheduled to start. As they were finishing up their craft work, Tom wheeled in the primary decoration, a contribution he'd put together with help from B'Elanna.

"What is this, Tom?" Icheb asked his friend.

"Why this is a gen-u-wine reproduction twentieth century jukebox! Just like Zefram Cochrane probably had. I've loaded it up with the songs he had on his list of 'favorite tunes' -- as dutifully recorded by the first Vulcans to visit Earth, right after Cochrane's first warp flight! He had great taste. A lot of the songs are favorites of mine, too. Johnny Be Good by Chuck Berry. Black Magic Woman by Santana. And of course, the ever popular, Shake Your Booty, Baby, by . . ."

"That's great, Tom," Neelix interrupted. "Why don't you roll it into that corner. We'll make that area the dance floor."

Tom didn't seem at all disturbed by Neelix cutting him off from enthusiastically listing every song in the jukebox. Icheb knew B'Elanna did the same thing whenever her husband began extolling the virtues of one of his hobbies. He'd seen her do it to Tom on several occasions.

Once the device was set up, Icheb wandered over and perused the choices listed on the front panel. He was familiar with some from hearing them during visits to Tom and B'Elanna's quarters, but others were new to him. Since Tom seemed to like really lively numbers, Icheb looked forward to hearing the ones that were unfamiliar. This party was shaping up to be one of Neelix's most amazing extravaganzas. Icheb was really looking forward to it, and to their private "after party," once it was over. Icheb and Naomi had both volunteered to be part of the clean-up team, knowing that the tasty "secret stash" of pierogi awaited them after they'd finished putting the Mess hall to rights.

=/\=

The party was in full swing when Icheb arrived. He'd volunteered to serve part of a shift in Engineering so that Freddie Bristow, who was scheduled to work throughout the party, would have a chance to attend for a couple of hours. Icheb hoped he hadn't missed Tuvok's recreation of the first words by a Vulcan to a human: "Live Long and Prosper."

Tuvok wasn't there, however. Neelix wasn't, either. In fact, none of the senior staff was present. Naomi was standing in the corner of the room, near the jukebox. She looked a little lost. Before making his way to her, he picked up a plate and grabbed a few cheese pierogi and the red sauce which, as Neelix had maintained, was a nice, spicy counterpart to the cheesy dumplings, glistening with melted butter and bits of translucent onion.

"Hi, Naomi. Has Tuvok done his dance yet?"

"He didn't want to do it, Icheb; and he didn't have to. Neelix was trying to convince him to do the dance, but then Commander Chakotay came in and took Neelix away. I heard them talking about finding Talaxian life signs on long-range scans. The signs are only a few light years away, according to the commander."

"Talaxian life signs here? This far from Talax?"

"That's what the commander said."

"I wonder how they got here. Talax is almost 40,000 light years away."

"Maybe the Talaxians had some very fast ships," Naomi answered, sighing. Absent-mindedly, she helped herself to one of Icheb's pierogi. After tasting it, she added. "This sauce smells really strong, but it's just as good with the pierogi as Neelix said it would be."

"I think so, too. Do you want me to get another plate for you?" Icheb smiled as he moved his plate out of her reach. She was reaching for another of his pierogi, and he only had two left.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I can get my own. Stay here, won't you? I don't want you running off to Astrometrics to find out more about these Talaxians."

"I can wait," Icheb replied, although he'd been thinking about going there. When he looked around, however, he noticed none of their particular friends were currently in the mess hall. Naomi undoubtedly wanted someone to keep her company. He was the only person who could serve that function at the moment.

He didn't mind, really. While Naomi wasn't quite an adolescent yet, since she was barely five years old, she'd matured very quickly because of her Ktarian heritage. She seemed even older today. Perhaps it was the fuzzy pink sweater she was wearing. It made her look a lot more mature than her usual jumpsuit outfits. Icheb felt a little pang. Was Mezoti maturing as quickly as Naomi? As far as he knew, the Norcadi developed much more slowly than Ktarians; but after spending time in a maturation chamber, children could develop much more quickly, no matter their species. The twins had grown from very young children to adolescents in two years, according to their grandparents. He wasn't even sure exactly how old he was. From those few days he'd lived on Brunal he knew he was more than five Federation standard years old, but he might not be more than twelve. His biological parents had never bothered to let him know his birthdate. That, of course, was the least of the facts they'd failed to share with him.

He shook his head slightly and bit into his last pierogi. It was best not to think about it. He was almost grown, however fast it had happened, and at least Seven had promised to care for him until he finished the job.

He'd like to go to her to find out what she knew, but Naomi was counting on him to stay with her for a while. He wandered over to the snacks table and scooped up several more pierogi. He'd helped make them. He deserved to eat a bunch of them, too.

After refilling their plates, Icheb and Naomi sat down and speculated on ways Talaxians could travel so far away from their home planet. Had they left as colonists before the Haakonian takeover? Or had they found a short cut, like a wormhole, that led them to a planet in this region of space? All the time they chatted, however, Icheb felt an empty place growing in the area of his stomach, despite the fact that he was filling it with starchy treats. He couldn't shake the feeling that a big change was coming, and he wasn't sure he would like whatever it might turn out to be.

=/\=

Neelix stopped by the mess hall while Icheb and Naomi were cleaning up from the party. "Tuvok, Tom, and I are taking the Delta Flyer on an away mission to the asteroid where the Talaxian life signs are located. I've got to leave now, so I can't spare the time to help you with the clean-up. You can go ahead with the 'after party' without me."

"We wouldn't feel right about that, Neelix. We'll have our special pierogi when you get back," Naomi said.

"Well, if you change your mind, you just go ahead and have some. I'll be back before you know it! Who knows? Maybe I'll bring back some of the Talaxians to visit with us on Voyager!"

Icheb and Naomi agreed it would be very interesting to meet others like Neelix. Icheb could see how excited Neelix was by the prospect. As the two youngsters waved goodbye to Neelix, Icheb was reminded of his conversation with Neelix at Joe Carey's wake, about not having any family to go home to. He didn't want to mention this to Naomi, Neelix's goddaughter. As it happened, he didn't need to.

"I wonder if he's going to decide to stay with them?" Naomi asked sadly, crumpling onto a chair as soon as Neelix was on his way.

Icheb remembered that odd feeling he'd had when he'd first heard about Talaxians living here, so far from their home planet. That possibility bothered him, too. As he sat down next to her, all he said was, "I'm sure he'll stay with you and your mother. He just wants to visit with his own people." As soon as he said this, Icheb thought it was a silly thing to say. Naomi's skeptical expression told him she thought it was ridiculous, too.

"Neelix was always very close to his family, especially to his sister Alixia. All of them were killed when the Metreon Cascade destroyed everything on Rinax, Neelix's home. Mom told me once that Neelix was very different when he first came on Voyager. He was very cynical. If Kes hadn't been so sweet, it's possible the captain would never have allowed him to stay on board. He was very jealous of Tom about Kes, or of anyone who became her friend. He even started fights sometimes. Mom says he started to be less awful after he became my godfather, and after some things happened that she still won't tell me about. Except when Mezoti was here, she helped me sneak into the logs and we found out about what it might be. He was involved with another Talaxian named Wixiban, a criminal. The captain helped Neelix 'straighten out,' according to Mom, but after Seven brought him back to life, he wanted to die because he didn't see his family waiting for him in the afterlife."

Icheb nodded. "He told me about that once."

"Did he? I'm glad he can talk about it now. If Mom and I hadn't come to the Transporter Room to ask him to come and check my room for monsters, he would've transported himself out into space without a protective suit or anything. He would have killed himself." Naomi sighed softly and looked away from him before saying, "You know, Icheb, I don't know my dad because I was born out here and he's in the Alpha Quadrant. I've spoken with him a few times over Project Watson, but Neelix is really the only father I've ever known. I don't want to lose him!" Tears began to glisten in Naomi's eyes, and Icheb picked up her hand and squeezed it gently. She wiped her eyes with the other hand and said, "I guess you think I'm being selfish."

"No, I do understand, Naomi." Icheb confided. "I wanted Mezoti to stay here with Seven and me. If it's selfish, then it is. It's the way we feel. I still miss Mezoti every day. I was thinking about her when I walked into the party, when I saw you in your pink sweater. I tried to imagine Mezoti wearing one just like it."

She smiled up at him. "No, she would have been wearing purple. A really dark purple, too. And it wouldn't have been a fuzzy sweater, either. It would have been a sleek and shiny tunic."

He nodded agreement, and the two young people chuckled at the thought of Naomi in her pink fuzzy sweater, and Mezoti in a satiny, deep purple top. Icheb dropped Naomi's hand then. Her mood had changed and she didn't seem to need him to hold it anymore. Naomi began to rub her hands together and was silent for a moment, before she asked, "What should I do if Neelix asks me if he should leave or stay on Voyager?"

Icheb looked away and gazed in the direction of the mess hall windows, although he didn't notice a single star. He remembered that last moment with Mezoti in the Transporter Room, when she'd had doubts about what she was doing but left Voyager anyway. As much as he missed Mezoti, there was only one answer he could give Naomi. "If he really wants to leave us, then it means he's found something he lost all those years ago, before he came on Voyager."

Naomi's eyes shone again with unshed tears, but she straightened her spine and nodded. "You're right. I'd have to let him go if it comes to that. I hope I'll be able to do it."

"I know you'll do the right thing," Icheb said with a smile. "And now I think we need to finish cleaning up. When we're done, do you want some of those special pierogi after all?"

"No. We'll save them for when Neelix comes back, no matter what he decides to do when he does."

=/\=

A few days after the party, as Icheb was leaving the mess hall, he saw Naomi coming towards him, accompanied by a young person he knew must be the Talaxian youngster who'd come with Neelix from the asteroid colony. Naomi called out, "Hi, Icheb. Meet Brax. He's visiting Voyager with his mother."

Her smile was bright -- perhaps a little too much so. This was her competition for Neelix's affections. It wouldn't do to be anything but polite in this particular social situation. He extended his hand, as he had to Q Junior the first time they met, saying, "Hi, Brax. Nice to meet you."

Unlike Q, Brax accepted Icheb's hand and shook it enthusiastically, saying, "Nice to meet you, too. That's right, isn't it, Naomi?"

"Yes, that's exactly right," Naomi responded, and her smile became much more natural. "We're going to play Kadis-Kot in the mess hall, Icheb. Would you like to join us?"

"I can't, Naomi. I just finished my lunch. Seven expects me in Astrometrics. Have a good game, Brax. Be careful around Naomi. She's an expert Kadis-Kot player."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll let me win a game or two. My mom always does," Brax answered brightly. He waved goodbye to Icheb as he followed Naomi down the corridor to the mess hall doorway.

Icheb moved on to his assignment, too, wondering what would happen if the colonists were forced to move out of their asteroid. Nocona, the leader of the miners extracting minerals from the asteroid field, had given them an ultimatum: leave or have their home blasted away from around them. It seemed illogical for the miners to do something so radical. Couldn't they find another way to get what they wanted out of the asteroid? Maybe the Talaxians could help them from inside the asteroid. Some of the mineral veins must run through the interior. They might even be in the Talaxian's way as they expanded their colony.

A bigger question was what Neelix would choose to do. Tom told Icheb that Brax's mother Dexa was very pretty. And she was a widow. Would Neelix decide to stay with them? It wasn't any of Icheb's business, of course. Neelix would decide what was best for himself. Still, Icheb couldn't help feeling a little bereft. They'd lost Joe Carey only a little while ago. And now they might lose Neelix, too. He'd never gotten over losing Mezoti. How many more members of his Voyager family would he have to say goodbye to before the ship reached the Alpha Quadrant?

=/\=

For a while, Icheb hoped the result of Nocona's ultimatum would be for Voyager to move the five hundred Talaxian colonists to an M-class planet not far away. The crew had helped Kohlar's Klingon sect get to their new home. Unlike the Klingons, the Talaxians were unlikely to make any attempt at taking over Voyager. According to Tom, the colonists feared being too aggressive and were unwilling to come to their own defense. Tom didn't know if an aggressive Talaxian response to the Haakonian Order had been one reason the war between the two parties had become so deadly. If so, that might explain their reluctance to defend themselves now. If the colonists chose to move to a new home planet, would a few of them choose to remain on board Voyager afterwards, as members of the crew? Maybe Dexa would decide to stay, along with her son Brax. Once Icheb caught sight of her, he agreed with Tom. She was very pretty, the perfect antidote for Neelix's loneliness. It would be nice to have another child around the ship again, too. Brax seemed to be a very pleasant, intelligent kid.

In the end, another solution was found. After helping the colonists set up a system of shields, preventing the miners from blasting away their asteroid home, Neelix came back to Voyager, but only for a very brief period of time. When Icheb welcomed him back, that sinking feeling returned once again. Neelix's ambivalence about what he should do was obvious. Icheb realized his friend might very well leave Voyager, just as Naomi feared.

The night Neelix came back on board, Naomi came to Borg Central. She was crying, and Icheb didn't have to ask her why. This had to be about Neelix.

When she'd calmed down enough to speak, she said, "Icheb, he came to see me tonight while I was doing my homework. I think he was still trying to decide what to do. I thought about the talk we had after the First Contact Day party. You know, about maybe it was selfish to want him to stay with us instead of being with his own people. I think I fooled him. He offered to read me a story, like he did when I was little. He even asked me if I wanted to be tucked in for the night. I told him . . . I told him . . ." She began to struggle to keep from crying again, but finally she was able to continue. "I told him thanks, but I wasn't a little girl anymore. I could put myself to bed. So he left. And I came here so . . ." Naomi's brave front completely broke down then. Icheb put his arm around her and let her cry her heart out.

When she stopped crying, Icheb sat back and told her, "I'm proud of you, Naomi. It's not easy saying goodbye to someone you love, even if you know it's right for them to go."

"I know you know about that. I guess we both know." They didn't have to say anymore. Saying goodbye to Mezoti had been hard for both of them. Now, saying goodbye to Neelix would bond them again in the pain of loss.

They sat together a little longer and spoke about their feelings. It was good for Icheb to express them to Naomi, since Seven continued to struggle with such conversations. Or maybe, when she wanted to talk about such things, she now turned to Commander Chakotay. It was something Icheb didn't like to think about.

A short while later, Icheb accompanied Naomi to the quarters she shared with her mother. Sam was at the door when they entered, looking severe, until Naomi told her mother why she'd visited Icheb so late. Ensign Wildman gathered her daughter into the comfort of her arms and nodded contritely to Icheb as he turned to go. She mouthed "thank you" to Icheb as he waved goodbye.

When Icheb returned to the cargo bay he shared with Seven, she wasn't there. He wished she was. He wouldn't have minded having Seven put her arms around him right then, either.

=/\=

Icheb brought the package to Neelix's quarters just in time. The Talaxian was almost finished with his packing. "Here, Neelix. I brought you your share of our special pierogi. There's a small jar of your special red sauce, too."

"I thought you must have eaten them already," Neelix responded, From the expression on his face, Icheb thought Neelix was touched they'd kept some for him.

"No, we decided to save them for our 'after party.' Now I guess you'll have yours with Dexa and Brax. We counted them. There were forty-one, so we gave you half. Twenty-one, actually. Naomi and I will eat the rest. We might share a couple with Harry, Tom and B'Elanna."

Neelix accepted the package, which Icheb had thoughtfully placed inside an insulated bag. "I'll tell Dexa and Brax all about how much fun it was making these with the two of you. I'm glad you had the chance to meet them."

"I'm glad, too, Neelix." Icheb stopped speaking. Neelix, usually so garrulous, didn't have anything more to say, either, as he tucked the treats into the top of his duffel bag. The awkward silence reflected Icheb's roiling emotions.

Perhaps Neelix felt it as well, but he finally said, "It's hard to say goodbye to everyone, especially you, Icheb. You've come such a long way since I told you about our 'ghost' on Deck 12." Neelix chuckled a little, and Icheb smiled at the memory of that strange and, now that he looked back upon it, wonderful night. "And this isn't a permanent goodbye, you know. Thanks to Project Watson, I'll be able to keep in touch with Voyager. The captain was allowed to share equipment with the colony so the Federation Ambassador to the Delta Quadrant can stay in touch. According to Seven, we'll be able to communicate all the way to the Alpha Quadrant."

"I know you'll do a great job as ambassador, Neelix. And maybe I can play Kadis-Kot with you sometimes, when Seven is too busy to play."

"I'd like that," Neelix agreed, then fell silent again. Icheb found he had trouble finding words to continue their conversation, too. He knew it was time to finally say goodbye. He had to get into his place along the corridor leading to the shuttlebay. The captain had planned a surprise for Neelix's last moments on board Voyager, and Icheb didn't want to miss it. He was about to say he had to go when Neelix spoke up. "Icheb, I'm sorry I won't be able to volunteer to be a 'Typhoid Icheb' to the Borg now if Voyager ever runs into them again."

"That's all right, Neelix. I hope the Borg never find your asteroid, but if they do, you can protect your own people. I'll find someone else on this crew to volunteer to receive the serum if we do meet up with them again."

At that point, Icheb really had run out of words, and Neelix apparently couldn't call any to mind, either. The Talaxian, who had become a good friend to Icheb, just as he had to everyone on Voyager, wrapped his arms around the Brunali adolescent and gave him a sincere hug goodbye. There was nothing else to do then but go.

Saying he had to go to Astrometrics to help Seven, Icheb scuttled away to a different turbolift than the one Neelix planned to use. Icheb arrived at the shuttle bay entrance just as Lieutenant Commander Tuvok began to move his feet in a subtle dance, saying goodbye to Neelix in his own, very staid, yet personal way. Icheb saw the look of wonder on Neelix's face. Neelix and Tuvok had often had an adversarial relationship, but Icheb had long suspected the Vulcan's dour reaction to Neelix's over-enthusiasm did not diminish his respect for the person that Neelix had become. Icheb was glad he was there in time to see the proof.

=/\=

Stardate 54884.7 Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

I guess I've been showing how much I miss Neelix by the way I've been acting. Everyone asks me if I'm OK whenever they pass me in the corridors. Naomi and I hiked a portion of Tom's Yellowstone Park hiking trail by ourselves this morning, and we agreed that losing Neelix had been as difficult (or more, in Naomi's case) as losing Mezoti.

When I went to Astrometrics after the hike, Harry came by and asked me - of course - if I was doing OK. I told him I was doing "as well as expected." Harry commiserated with me. He asked me if I play a lot of Kadis-Kot with Naomi. I do sometimes, but the game is a little simple for me now. I remembered what young Brax said about his mother letting him win games sometimes, and I must admit I've done that with Naomi occasionally, too. She's good at the game, however, and she beats me 'fair and square' most of the time.

Harry offered to teach me a Vulcan game, Kal-toh. I've seen Harry play it with Commander Tuvok a couple of times while visiting Neelix's resort program. No one ever asked me if I'd like to learn how to play it before. It sounds like a challenge. When I mentioned it to Seven tonight, she agreed it would be a "positive recreational activity to cultivate." I'm not surprised. The object of the game is to attain perfection by creating a Kal-toh sphere. She told me not to become too discouraged. It takes years for most people to learn. I asked her if she ever played it. She admitted she had, but she wouldn't give me any details. I think I'll have to ask Harry. I think there's a story there. Harry admitted that he's never beaten Tuvok at Kal-toh, but, as he said, "practice makes perfect." I've heard that often enough. Still, I'd like to try. I told Harry I'd love to learn how to play the game.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Icheb had spent the last several hours in the lab adjacent to Sickbay, peering through the microscope to study the Borg-killing genes buried inside his genome. He'd come to the conclusion that the creation of "chaos out of order" needed to occur more quickly to be truly effective against the Borg. The change couldn't take hours; it needed to start within minutes to protect Voyager and its crew.

He'd completed several experiments, tweaking the genes involved to see if he could find a way to destroy the nanoprobes injected for assimilation much more efficiently. The last one showed great promise. When the unmodified nanoprobes had been introduced into the tweaked blood sample, they'd barely begun to multiply before distortions in the initial stages of implant formation were noticeable. He speculated that this might be what had happened when he was assimilated. The improper development of his implants in the maturation chamber prevented him from becoming fully Borg.

Information stored in the data node obtained from their cube before its destruction indicated Mezoti had been in a maturation chamber longer than he had. Mezoti's cortical node had been much closer to completion before she'd been thrust out of her deteriorating maturation chamber. Although he had been able to communicate subvocally with the twins and First, Mezoti was the one he "heard" most easily. She'd also possessed the capacity to shut him out of her mind whenever she wanted. Thus, the implants which formed first did appear to be those related to the cortical array and node, the center of communication with the hive. Judging from the evidence he'd gained through his experiments, Icheb was convinced the breakdown of the link between drones had been the key factor in the death of the drones on their cube.

That thought brought another to mind. The twins and First had been assimilated even earlier than Mezoti had. Icheb once speculated that every drone's development in a maturation chamber did not necessarily follow the same pattern. First knew things Icheb did not when First took over leadership of their Children's Collective, and Icheb's knowledge of the cube's systems and how they interacted with others appeared to be more complete. The twins communicated seamlessly with one another, but despite that close bond, they didn't seem to realize Mezoti could "listen in" to what they considered to be private conversations with each other.

Did genetics play a part? The way the twins behaved suggested it might, since they shared the same basic genome and had the same strengths and weaknesses. When adults were assimilated, medical drones immediately fitted each new "recruit" with a set of attachments to serve different functions within the Collective. Was that done on a totally random basis, according to need, or did genetic predisposition play a part in the assignment of a given drone's tasks?

It was really quite a fascinating subject. Icheb could understand why the Doctor spent hours luxuriating in such details. If the Borg didn't pose so much danger to every independently functioning sentient being in the galaxy, Icheb wouldn't mind studying how assimilation was accomplished, either. Because of that danger, however, Icheb meant to find a way to end the Collective, if he could. If all drones were separated from that singular mind of the Queen, would they be able to function independently, as Seven and Icheb himself did now? Would they need special medical treatment to survive the way Seven, and, to a lesser extent, Icheb himself had? It was a puzzle he would examine as long as it did not distract him from his primary purpose: producing a serum that would rapidly cause the destruction of a given cube's ability to overpower and enslave other beings.

His spine began to ache from the way he was bending over his instrument. Icheb arose from his stool and stretched. He still had an implant running along his vertebrae, although, like so many of a Borg's normal systems, it had failed to develop the way it should have in him. The Doctor had not removed the one bothering him now because of its position next to his spinal cord. Normally, it didn't cause him problems. Unlike Seven, who felt pain when she wasn't wearing a built-up heel, Icheb had no trouble walking barefoot or placing his heel flat on the ground. As he straightened his back, Icheb couldn't help smiling at the thought that while Seven may have required a raised heel for comfort, a spike heel had not been necessary. That was undoubtedly something the Doctor had chosen to do for aesthetic reasons, and possibly for his own pleasure!

After his recent confession of love to Seven, when he thought his program was contaminated beyond repair and he would "die," everyone knew the EMH had loved Seven "for years." It was unfortunate for the Doctor that this deathbed confession, like the others he'd made at the time, turned out to be premature. B'Elanna removed the superfluous files degrading his program and he recovered. He continued to be the same lovable, but occasionally clueless, EMH they'd all come to love, or, at least, to tolerate. Now the Doctor had to live with the knowledge that some of his deepest secrets were known to everyone on Voyager's crew.

Had the EMH been attracted to Seven right from her very first days on Voyager? When he'd removed much of the Borg machinery from her body after her separation from the Collective, the Doctor had certainly restored her to a very beautiful human appearance. He'd taken care to construct a visual implant for her left orbital socket that matched her organic right eye almost perfectly. In all of his plastic surgery procedures, he'd apparently been as faithful as possible to the appearance she would have had if she'd never encountered the Borg. From what Aunt Irene had said during their most recent Project Watson visit, Seven's face and figure closely resembled her parents' physical attributes. "My brother Magnus was so very handsome, and my sister-in-law Erin was just lovely. You look exactly like I would expect their child to look as an adult. I wish . . . well, I wish you could have known them longer, Annika."

Icheb suspected Seven wished that, too, even though he doubted she'd ever say so. As much as she appreciated the technological advantages she'd received from the Borg, he thought she would have preferred to remain totally human, especially now that she was experiencing romantic feelings for Voyager's first officer. He just hoped she wouldn't experience another medical crisis from her emotional inhibitor chip shutting down again, which had occurred when she'd been spending all that time on the holodeck engaging in romantic fantasies about Commander Chakotay.

"Icheb? Are you well?" Seven asked.

Startled, Icheb whipped his head around guiltily. For a fraction of a second he thought he'd drawn Seven to him through his thoughts about her attraction to Chakotay. "I . . . I'm fine. My spinal implant was bothering me from staying in one position too long."

"You must be more careful. You know the Doctor does not believe he can completely remove it because of its proximity to your spinal cord."

"I am aware of that, Seven," he replied, submerging the impulse to show any irritation towards her. "That's why I was standing instead of sitting."

She came closer and bent down to the eyepiece. "Are you still researching the DNA in your chromosomes?"

"In this sample, I made another microgenetic alteration to the seventeenth chromosome. It seems to act on Borg implants more rapidly than the changes my parents made in me. I hope to improve the pathogen-producing serum, in case we ever need to use it."

She studied the image in the instrument for several more seconds before standing completely erect and gazing sharply at him. "You aren't planning to give it to yourself, are you?" Her voice had taken on the disapproving tone she used whenever she objected to an action Icheb had taken without her consent -- not that she needed to use it often.

He broke eye contact with her for a few seconds before gazing back at her. "Only if it is necessary to protect everyone on Voyager."

"Icheb . . . "

"I hope it will never be needed."

She raised her brow skeptically. "From my . . . personal acquaintance with the Queen, I doubt we will be that fortunate." She did not, however, absolutely forbid him from proceeding. That was notable. He suspected that if it ever was needed, she would be willing to volunteer; and he would be just as sure to object to that action on her part as well. To avoid becoming embroiled in a contest of wills, Icheb decided to change the subject.

"How did your medical evaluation with the Doctor go -- if you will permit me to ask. You know the Doctor will scream about 'doctor-patient confidentiality' if I dare to ask him how it went."

She relaxed, and a slight smile graced her lips. "As well as expected." She hesitated, then said, "That's why I came to see you. I need to tell you something." She paused again before saying, "I've changed my mind about having the emotion inhibiter chip removed from the cortical node you donated to me. The Doctor has been evaluating methodology. He now believes he can excise it with only one treatment. I will undergo the procedure later today."

Icheb wasn't really surprised, but he thought he should say something. After all, the part had originated inside of him. "Does this have anything to do with the Doctor's confession concerning his feelings for you? Do you wish to form a relationship with him?"

"No. I have someone else in mind." Icheb knew what she would say next, if she said anything at all about the person's identity, but he waited patiently until she admitted, "I find Commander Chakotay a very attractive individual. While I do not know if he would reciprocate, I would like to find out without suffering any physical problems, as I did when I spent so much time in the holo . . ." Her voice trailed off, but then she added, briskly, "I don't know where it may lead, but I would like to have the capacity to form a relationship with a real person."

"Didn't you have a relationship with your friend Axum?"

"That was a virtual reality. It could not be a true relationship in any physical sense. IF he's still alive, he's too far away for us to ever meet in person, as we once hoped."

Seven glanced away from Icheb again, and he noticed her mood had changed. Mezoti claimed she'd detected that Seven held very deep, tender feelings for Axum after seeing him again in Unimatrix Zero. As they usually were, Mezoti's perceptions must have been accurate. "Seven, if Axum were close by, would you like to form a real relationship with him?

"He's not. It's pointless to pursue that line of inquiry."

What could he say? Nothing. She turned on her heel and slipped out of the lab without saying anything more.

Icheb sat down on the stool again and contemplated what she'd said, and more to the point, what she hadn't expressed. He'd failed to inquire whether her plans to adopt him may have changed as a result of her feelings for the commander. He decided he would not press her for an answer now. She'd just made a momentous decision to change her life. The Doctor was going to remove the emotion inhibitor chip, which would relieve Icheb of one worry. He'd been very concerned about the possibility that because of this part, which she'd obtained from him, Seven's cortical array could shut down completely at some point. He hadn't suffered any negative repercussions from the loss of the cortical node from inside his own skull. Without an emotional inhibitor chip, Seven would be able to experience greater happiness. Her emotional responses would no longer be restricted in any way.

The procedure and the changes it would bring to Seven were going to happen. It was her choice. She might be attracted to the commander, but it was also possible he wouldn't respond to Seven's overtures. Icheb had always thought the captain and the first officer had a special relationship. He'd observed evidence that the two were attracted to each other. Tom and B'Elanna had told him this was a common belief of the entire crew. Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay once were forced to spend months alone together because of a medical condition that threatened to kill them if they left this planet. Only through the persistence of the crew in pursuit of help from a doctor friend of the EMH's was a cure secured, permitting them to return to Voyager. And even if the commander did respond to Seven, relationships didn't always last forever. He'd heard enough stories about Harry's misadventures in love to know that.

Icheb told himself firmly that if Seven decided not to go through with adopting him because of her relationship with the commander, he'd survive. 'I'm doing well in my Academy courses. I can make it on my own if I must,' he thought.

He just hoped he wouldn't have to.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Star Date 54978

"Mezoti, there is a message for you at our communication console," Arebi said, when Mezoti came home from school that day.

"From Voyager?" Mezoti's whole demeanor brightened when she asked this. Almost immediately, it dulled. From the way Arebi's face fell, she knew the message must not have anything to do with Voyager.

Mezoti forced herself to smile again as Arebi replied, "I'm afraid it isn't. Do you know of a Norvalen trader named Masseni?"

"I've never heard of him."

"Well,  he's the one who is contacting you. Since you say you don't know him, I'd like to stand next to you as you review this communication. I want to make sure no harm will come to you from this stranger."

"Thank you, Arebi. I'd like Mazani to come in, too. If there's bad news in the message, I'd like both of you here while I listen to it."

Arebi called Mazani in, supposedly from her art studio. Mezoti thought she must have been standing in the hallway, since she arrived so quickly. As Arebi bent over to retrieve the message, Mezoti told herself to be Borg again, and not cry if this message was a sad one.

She was surprised when the message was a visual recording, not simply words on the screen. Even better, there were two faces in view, and one of them was Neelix!

"Hello, Mezoti," the Talaxian said. "I hope this message finds you, Azan, and Rebi well, and your parents Arebi and Mazani, too! This fellow standing next to me is Masseni. He travels through the sectors between Wysanti and here, trading with people in many systems. He told me he passes by your planet every few months, so he's agreed to help us exchange messages whenever he is near you and where I am now, on Talax II.

"The twins and you are not the only ones who've decided to leave Voyager and remain in the Delta Quadrant to live. A short time ago, on First Contact Day, as a matter of fact, Commander Chakotay discovered a group of Talaxian colonists who live inside an asteroid. You know, I've always missed my family, Mezoti, so when I met my wonderful Dexa and her son Brax, I decided to stay here with them. Let me call them over so I can introduce you to them."

Two other beings came into view. She had no memories of a non-Borg Talaxian female, so it was fascinating to see one. Mezoti thought Dexa was very pretty. Her son Brax looked like he was close to Mezoti in age. When Neelix introduced him, Brax waved at her and said, "Hi, Mezoti! Nice to meet you!" Mezoti found herself starting to wave back, but then she stopped and glanced up at Mazani. How embarrassing! A Borg, saying hello to an image on a screen when the message had been recorded weeks, maybe even months ago! She heard Arebi chuckling behind her, and then she felt his hand squeezing her shoulder.

The message went on for several more minutes. Neelix had recorded some visuals of the interior of the asteroid where the Talaxians live. Dexa gave her a "tour" of their family quarters, too, which were very comfortably furnished. From the way all three of them acted towards one another, Mezoti thought Neelix must be very happy.

"Masseni has promised to deliver any messages you want to send to me, Mezoti. Hearing from you would make me very happy, and I can think of some people on Voyager who would love to hear from you, too. Voyager can still maintain contact with me here. Seven and I sometimes play Kadis-kot during our communication window. So, if you want to send a message to Icheb and Seven through me, you can, and I'll make sure it gets to them. I miss you and everyone on Voyager, but I don't regret making this change in my life. Say hello to the twins. From what Icheb has told me about their favorite activities, I'm sure they're out somewhere playing sports right now. Mezoti, take care of yourself. I look forward to hearing from you soon."

When the message was over, Mezoti turned to Arebi. "Do you know where this asteroid is located?  Would it be possible for us to visit them there?"

Before he had a chance to answer, another message came in. This time it was from the Norvalen trader, Masseni. :::Hello there, Miss Mezoti. I had a tag put on the message from Neelix so I would know when you viewed it. I'm in orbit over Wysanti right now. I'll be in your system for the next three of your days, and I'd be happy to pass your message on to Neelix if I receive it before I leave.:::

Hesitantly, Mezoti replied, "Is this a live two-way message, Mr. Masseni?"

:::Yes it is. And I'm just Masseni to you and your family. No need for fancy titles.:::

Arebi bent his head into the viewing area. "This is Arebi, Mezoti's foster father. If you plan to be in our system for a few days, you must come share a meal with us. We'd love to hear more of what you know about Neelix."

:::I accept! Neelix is quite a character. He's taken a leadership position in that asteroid colony, you know, and he's managed to smooth over difficulties with some miners who wanted to blow them up. Now they're in business together. I expect he and his lady friend will be getting married very soon and . . . well, I can tell you more when I see you.:::

"Tomorrow, then," Arebi said. "I will send you our coordinates. We look forward to meeting you."

:::As do I. Until tomorrow.:::

As soon as the screen went dark, Mezoti turned to Mazani and Arebi. "I have to start working on my message. I don't want to leave anything out. There's so much I want to tell Neelix!" Mezoti ran to her room to plan out what she was going to say.

The door to Mezoti's room was close to the main living area. With her enhanced hearing, Mezoti always knew what was said in there, even when people whispered, although she'd never mentioned this to Mazani or Arebi.  Very soon after she left the room, she heard Mazani say, "Did we do the wrong thing by offering to adopt Mezoti? I wanted a daughter again; and she's wonderful; but she isn't very happy. I thought she would have adapted to life with us by now. You can see how alive she became, just by seeing the image of her friend Neelix and hearing his voice."

Arebi hesitated, then said, "We didn't make the mistake. I'm afraid she did, by agreeing to live with us."

Mezoti heard the faint squeak of the lounging chair. Mazani must have sat down next to her husband. "You're probably right. She's content here -- I think -- but to be truly happy, she must accept being of the Wysanti. Mezoti and our grandsons talk about how the Borg 'adapt,' but I'm afraid Mezoti may not be Borg enough to do that anymore. She clings to her memories of Voyager -- to memories of her true family."

Mezoti heard a big sigh. "Yes, we're treasured friends, but nothing more. Seven and Icheb have her love. I don't think she understood the difference when she decided to stay."

Mezoti could hear the misery in Mazani's voice. "I care for her so very much. It's hard to realize she'll never see me as her mother. If only her people weren't so far away! They'll never be able to travel back to get her now, even if we could tell them they should come for her."

"Perhaps if she can maintain contact with Voyager through Neelix, her worries about Seven and Icheb will fade. Maybe she'll be more accepting of her life here," Arebi offered.

"Do you think we could bring Mezoti for a visit to Neelix's asteroid?"

"No, I'm sorry to say. If it's taken Masseni months to travel from there, it must be far beyond where the Wysanti have ever traveled."

"That's unfortunate."

There was a pause in the couple's conversation, but they must still be sitting there together. Mezoti hadn't heard the lounging chair's tell-tale squeak from someone getting up. Eventually, she heard Arebi say, with a catch in his voice, "If the people from Voyager do come back for her someday, how will you feel about losing another daughter?"

"Devastated. But we've already learned one of the most important lessons any parent must learn. A time comes in any child's life when the parents must let her go, to live a life away from them. We must say goodbye to Mezoti someday. If Voyager comes back for her, it will simply happen much sooner than it does with most children. We're her foster parents. Her guardians. We never did legally adopt her. Perhaps that was fortunate."

"True. I don't believe she really wanted that close a tie with us."

"Don't mistake me, Arebi. She's been a great comfort. The boys became young men long before their time. I'm happy they live with us, but we aren't 'raising' them. We're simply providing a home for them with their own people. Mezoti is so bright. She holds conversations with us in ways the boys never do; but she's not ours in the way our own daughter was. If and when Mezoti decides to leave us, I will cherish the time we had with her -- but I will let her go. Above all, I want her to live a happy life. If leaving us is the way for her to achieve that, how can we stand in her way?"

"We cannot. You're right, my love. We'd have to let her go."

Mezoti sighed. What should she do? Should she remain silent, or should she let them know she'd overheard their conversation? It was meant to be a private one, just between the two of them, but she had heard. After considering the best action to take for a short time, she decided honesty was best. Slowly, she walked into the main living area. The pair were still sitting morosely on the couch, just where she thought they'd be.

It was best just to come out with it. "I'm sorry I'm not the daughter you thought you were getting when I accepted your offer to live with you."

Mazani stood up and stretched out her arms to enfold Mezoti. Arebi followed suit, putting his arms around both of them. "I'm sorry you heard, my dear," Arebi said softly. "I never knew your hearing was that good!"

Despite herself, Mezoti smiled. "Fortunately, Azan and Rebi forget most of the time, too. It's the only way I know what's going on with them most of the time." She decided not to mention the fact that she could also listen to them subvocally. "Don't be sorry. I'm glad I heard. I felt all warm inside when I realized you understand. You're right. I'm not as Borg as I used to be, or maybe even as much as I want to be, when it comes to you. If I were truly Borg, I could have adapted better to your family. But if I were still Borg, I wouldn't recognize how good you are to me. I'm very lucky to be here. I know that."

"Dear Mezoti, we don't wish you were still a Borg just so you could adapt to us!" Mazani smiled through her tears. "Life might be easier if people could just tell their hearts when to love someone and when to stop, but emotions don't work that way. We know Seven and Icheb have always had your heart."

"Ever since the doctor removed my emotional inhibitor chip, I've struggled to understand what I was feeling. Even before I left Voyager, I think I knew I should stay there, but I was afraid of the bad things that happen to people on ships. I should have trusted Icheb and Seven and all the crew to protect me. I'm sorry I didn't listen to myself when I had doubts. Icheb warned me I could never expect to see him again if I left. Maybe if I communicate with Neelix sometimes, and he has a way of communicating with Voyager, we'll be able to exchange messages. That might make me feel better about not actually being with them. Seven and Axum can't even send messages to one another, because he's so far away from her. He lives at the other end of the Beta Quadrant."

"From what we saw in the message, your Neelix seems like a very nice person. I hope this Masseni can help you keep in touch with him, and that way, with the Voyager people, too." Mazani wiped her eyes. "Well, if I'm going to serve a nice dinner to this Masseni tomorrow, I'd better research what the Norvalen like to eat." After giving Mezoti another big hug, Mazani hustled away. Mezoti was sure she was still crying.

Arebi gestured to Mezoti to sit down next to him on the lounge chair. After she did, rather awkwardly, Arebi smiled sadly. Looking down at his hands, which he was rubbing almost raw from the force he was using, he said hesitantly, "I think there's something else you want to say to us. Do you want me to call Mazani back in?"

"No, it's all right if I just talk to you about this for now. You're a pilot. You'll understand. My destiny has always been to live in space. I didn't understand that when so many things started to go wrong on Voyager. Now I do. I don't believe I will live on any planet for my entire life, but for as long as I'm here, I'm glad it will be with the two of you."

"We're happy to have you, my dear. Now, I think you should go back to your room and work on that message you want to send to Neelix. He'll be as happy to get one from you as you were to hear from him."

Before she left him to work out what she wanted to tell Neelix, Mezoti gave Arebi another hug, comforting herself as much as she hoped it would comfort him. This had been a very difficult conversation, but a necessary one. It was better for the truth to be out in the open and recognized. Losing their daughter to the Borg was a tragedy Mezoti could never have comprehended while she was Borg. Now she did. Mazani and Arebi were such good people. Mezoti promised herself she would try to be the best daughter to them that she could be. Mezoti really did love them, in her own way. It simply wasn't as much as they deserved -- not as much as she loved Seven and Icheb.

=/\=

Mezoti sat down to review her message for Neelix before sending it up to Masseni's ship. He'd agreed to deliver it when he approached the Talaxians' asteroid, upon his return to the area in a couple of months.

Stardate 54980

Dear Neelix,

It was so good to hear from you. Your new home seems very nice. Masseni came to dinner at our house and told us you have been very helpful to the colonists inside your asteroid. That's why Captain Janeway used your expertise when she made you Voyager's liaison to new species whenever we encountered them on our journey. It's good to know you are now officially an ambassador for the Federation, even though you aren't on Voyager any longer.

Masseni told us you may be marrying Dexa soon. She seems very nice. I'm sure she's helping you adapt to your new world. I have very good foster parents, Neelix. Arebi and Mazani love me and take good care of me, but I still miss everyone on Voyager terribly, especially Icheb and Seven. I hope exchanging letters with you will help. Since you say you can still talk to Seven, I'd like you to help me exchange messages with my family on Voyager, too.

My teachers in school are very nice, and they've encouraged the other students to be more friendly with me, but somehow, I'm not close to any of them in the way I was to Naomi on Voyager.  I don't know if it's me or if it's them. Azan and Rebi have friendships from their sports teams, but even though I do play on teams at school, the other females haven't really accepted me. So maybe it IS me. I do like my school, though. I'm learning lots of new things, especially about the natural world here, but it is a funny thing. The more I learn about plants and animals and bugs here, the more I miss learning about space, and living on a ship.

Mazani told me that her daughter had a "pen pal" on another planet when she was a girl. When Arebi, who is a pilot, traveled to this planet, the two girls exchanged messages. They were friends for life, Mazani told me. Xericla still stays in touch with Mazani and sends letters to her about her family. She was very happy to hear that her friend's sons survive, even though her good friend did not. When Mazani told this story to Masseni, he suggested that Brax  might want to be my "pen pal," too. If I'm sending messages to you, I could send a separate one about my life here to him, and he could send answers back to me. Would you ask him if he'd like that? If he does, have him send me a letter back the next time you communicate with me and I'll answer his, too. You can share this letter with him if you like.

I have to send this letter up to Masseni. He's leaving for his next stop tomorrow morning. He's a very nice man. We enjoyed our dinner with him, and we hope to see him again very soon.

Neelix, it made me so happy to hear from you and see where you're living now. I look forward to hearing from you again.

Your friend, Mezoti.

After reviewing her message, Mezoti stood up and walked over to the window. The trees in the woods behind the house were sparkling with a new coating of ice and snow. Mazani had told her it was rather late in the winter for a storm like this one. It had come upon them quite suddenly, right after Masseni had gone back up to his ship. Mezoti had to deliberately shut out the subvocal grousing of the twins, who were annoyed their sporting event, originally scheduled for tonight, had been postponed. The other team's community had received a much heavier snowfall, and the sports league authorities mutually agreed to reschedule their game. 

Somehow, the twins' annoyance, coupled with the icy scene outdoors, matched her own mood. Neelix's message had made her very happy, and Masseni had been wonderful company at dinner the previous night; but this afternoon, she missed everyone on Voyager more than ever.

Trying to divert herself, she checked her sensor monitor to look in on the ant colony behind the house. The ants didn't seem to have been harmed by the sudden burst of bad weather. They hadn't really awakened from their winter sleep yet. She was glad of that. Perhaps she'd feel better when the bugs and flowers finally began to appear. She'd wanted to live on a planet, with weather and a natural world. She had that here, and now she wanted to live in space. How illogical! Would she never be satisfied with her life anywhere?

Turning her thoughts back to her visual letter to Neelix, she wondered, "Maybe I should cut out that part about not having friends at school." After thinking about it for a few minutes, Mezoti decided to leave her message as it was. Naomi once told Mezoti that Neelix seemed to be able to understand a lot of things that people hadn't really said. Naomi called it "reading between the lines." Mezoti didn't mind if he realized how lonely she really was. Actually, from the way Masseni looked at her a few times at dinner, she thought he was pretty good at "reading between the lines," too. She suspected he'd tell Neelix what he'd observed anyway.

She didn't have messages to send to Seven or Icheb. She didn't know what to say to them in the short time she had to prepare a letter to them. There was so much she would want to say, she didn't think she could fit it all in a message right now. Should she say she knows she made a mistake leaving Voyager? She didn't think she'd be able to hide that from them. Just thinking about it made her long to see them again.

The possibility of communicating with them in any way was so overwhelming, she simply couldn't think about it. It was enough, right now, to know that she had a way to share her thoughts with them in the future, to let them know they should come for her if they ever get the chance.

Mezoti decided it would be better to plan on what to say to Seven and Icheb -- and Naomi too, come to think of it, since she could write to her now, too -- and put it all down so that when Masseni came back, she'd have it all ready to take with him, to share her life with her Voyager family again. Especially now that she knew her own mind: she wanted to live with them again, in any way she could -- even if that way was simply through an exchange of letters. It was more than she'd ever expected once Voyager had traveled out of subspace communication range with Wysanti.

Mezoti returned to the family communicator and sent her message to Masseni, with an extra note to the pilot himself:

Stardate 54980

Dear Masseni,

I've attached my letter to Neelix to this message. Thank you so much for being willing to bring it to him. If you want to see it yourself, you may. There aren't any big secrets in it!

I hope you had a good time at dinner with us last night. I enjoyed meeting you very much and hope you come back very soon to visit us again. Thanks again for helping me stay in touch with my friends from Voyager.

Your friend, Mezoti

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Seven looked up from her console as Icheb entered Astrometrics. From the expression on his face, which was contemplative, almost grim, she came to a logical conclusion about the outcome of his first Kal-toh match with Voyager's Chief Tactical Officer. "I'm certain Commander Tuvok was gracious to you after your defeat."

To her surprise, Icheb shook his head slowly. If not for her enhanced Borg hearing, she doubted she would have heard his soft reply. "Not exactly."

"I have never known the commander to be anything but conciliatory after a victory in Kal-toh."

"He didn't win. I did."

Seven stared at her protégé and soon-to-be adopted son. "You beat Commander Tuvok in your very first Kal-toh match?"

She'd attempted to expunge any incredulity from her voice, but from the way he answered her, she must not have succeeded. "You told me you beat him once, in a single move," he said mildly.

"Did you apply the principles of elementary spatial harmonics to the game? That was how I succeeded. I must admit the sound strategy Mr. Kim had followed prior to my intervention was of great assistance to my victory." Seven realized she'd never given Harry any credit for this at the time it happened. She doubted he'd want to be reminded about the incident now, after so much time had passed.

"If I did, it was my subconscious mind that accomplished it. I took what I thought would be a productive preliminary move, and Harry started hinting that I should do something else. The commander told me to ignore any suggestions from Ensign Kim, because he'd never succeeded in beating the commander even once. He sounded quite confident, but when my next move created a perfect sphere, he looked as shocked as I was. At first, I suspected he had deliberately let me win, the way Brax told me his mother lets him win games sometimes to encourage him to continue playing; but the commander seemed quite perturbed by my victory. I assured him it must have been beginner's luck. Then I told him I had to come here. I believe Harry was going to challenge him to a match, thinking he'd have a good chance to beat him, but I heard Tuvok in the corridor behind me. He must have declined the ensign's challenge."

Seven was silent for a few moments. "I doubt the commander would ever throw a Kal-toh match to encourage you to continue playing, the way Dexa does with her son. Commander Tuvok would never admit to feeling pride in his ability to play the game so well, but I'm quite sure he does feel it. Too much to let a novice player win, certainly."

"I thought as much. If it wasn't my subconscious accessing elementary spatial harmonics, it must have actually been beginner's luck!"

Seven smiled at her son's modest reaction. "I'm quite sure it was your subconscious guiding your placement of the t'an piece. Unless you had changed your move to the one Harry Kim had recommended . . . "

Icheb smile was broader. "No. It was the move I'd planned on making."

"A wise decision," Seven agreed, smiling. "You realize, of course, that the only other time anyone on this ship has beaten Tuvok at Kal-toh was when I managed it."

"I am aware of that," Icheb said, and began to chuckle a little. "Now, what did you want me to do today?"

"Will you finish setting up your gravimetric sensor array and begin scanning for wormholes? I believe your most recent refinements to the device will make it even more efficient than it has been up to now."

"I will be pleased to do so, Seven."

Seven looked at him for a moment, her smile broadening. "Perhaps you have been spending a little too much time with Commander Tuvok lately. You're even beginning to sound like him."

"There are worse role models for me to follow, don't you think?"

With this, she heartily concurred.

=/\=

When Icheb entered the mess hall to get his dinner that evening, he was immediately surrounded by a group of his ship mates, led by Ensign Freddie Bristow. While the Kal-toh match between Tuvok and Icheb had taken place in the mess hall lounge area, and therefore had not exactly been a secret, the number of people congratulating him on his victory astounded him. Because of the numerous salutations he received, Icheb was barely able to choose his meal from Gerron, who was on dinner duty that evening. He was reminded again about Naomi's frequent comment about how quickly gossip circulated among the crew. Voyager was a very small ship, indeed, to judge from the evening's events.

When he was finally able to sit down at a table to begin consuming his food, Icheb quoted Naomi to Freddie, who had taken the seat next to him.

"Ah, I guess you don't know about the betting pool," Freddie sagely replied.

"Betting pool? About my game with Commander Tuvok?"

"Of course! I won more than fifty replicator ration credits from Engineering alone! No one else there thought you had a chance to beat him, let alone during the first match. Ensign Kim must have played the commander at least a hundred times in the past four years without ever getting even close to managing a win!"

Icheb smiled ruefully. "Then why did you take a chance on me?"

"Well, I admit, I didn't exactly go crazy with my wagers. I remembered that Seven beat him in one move a couple of years ago, so I figured you'd be able to do it at some point, too. All my bets were that you'd beat him in less than twenty matches. I never expected to collect right away. Way to go, Icheb!"

He wasn't sure how to respond to Freddie's praise, although he was able to mumble something about being glad to improve Freddie's replicator ration balance. Icheb still couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling Tuvok had allowed him to win. At the very least, Icheb must have been able to take advantage of an uncharacteristically careless move by Tuvok. After taking several more bites of his dinner in silence, Icheb casually remarked, "I haven't participated in the betting pools yet, although I know they exist. I'm considered a minor, and I'm not supposed to be gambling. That's what Seven's told me, anyway."

"This isn't that kind of gambling. It's pretty innocent most of the time. The main one going on right now concerns the date and time Chief Torres will deliver her baby. The maximum bet is only ten credits per person, but since just about everyone is participating, the winner will take in a decent haul. I think Ensign Wildman has even put one in for Naomi. Even the captain's taking part. I heard she just placed her bet through Commander Chakotay. You should be able to put one in, too."

Shrewdly, Icheb asked, "Has Seven put in her wager?"

"Um, I'm not sure. I don't think so. Is it against Borg rules or something?"

At that, Icheb had to chuckle. "I don't believe the Borg have any concept of betting on anything. That takes free will, which no drone has! Maybe the Queen might indulge, but who would be brave enough to meet up with her to accept her bet? The surest outcome would be one more drone for the Collective!"

Freddie shook his head and laughed. "I guess that was a really stupid thing for me to say! It isn't even something to joke about! You don't have to tell Seven about this, do you? I mean, you manage your own credits, don't you?"

"Oh, sure. I have quite a few credits I don't plan to use anytime soon -- certainly more than that maximum allowable bet. And if Ensign Wildman has allowed Naomi to take a chance, I guess I can do it, too. I wouldn't want to be the only one on board, other than little Aimee or Seven, who isn't taking part."

"That's the spirit. And maybe you can get Seven to do it, too. Then the only other person who isn't in it would be Lieutenant Torres herself. I don't think anyone has been brave enough to tell her anything about it."

Icheb sipped the last few drops of his Nutritional Supplement Five shake before asking Freddie how one went about placing a wager. "Just go see Chell. He's been keeping the tally. Tom wanted to do it, but we told him he was too close to the situation. He had to put his guess in really early, before he could have any real inside information about when it would be."

"Lieutenant Paris bet on when his own baby was going to be delivered?"

"Are you kidding? Of course! The pool was his idea in the first place."

=/\=

When Seven began to set up the Kadis-kot board for her daily game with Neelix, Icheb checked the Astrometrics chronometer. It was much later than he expected. He hadn't had his dinner yet, and he had a paper he needed to finish by tomorrow afternoon. Commander Tuvok had asked him to compare the development of three pre-spaceflight planetary cultures with each other, and describe how their particular belief systems subsequently affected their attitudes towards alien societies once they'd become aware of other races. He'd finished most of his research and outlined or written all the sections on Earth and Vulcan. At first, the third society was to be the Klingons, but then he decided it might be more interesting to include the Bajorans instead. He'd already written one paper about the history of the Klingon Empire, and the religious foundations of Bajoran society promised to make the paper much more interesting to read. Besides, Icheb didn't want the commander to think he was leaning on past research and "sliding by" instead of taking his studies seriously.

"Seven, would you mind if I left for the mess hall now? I need to work on my paper for Commander Tuvok tonight. If you need me, you can always call me back."

Seven looked up at Icheb and smiled. "Acceptable. All of the work the captain assigned us today is complete. I would not be preparing for a game with Neelix if it were not. He'll open the channel in approximately 56.5 seconds. Perhaps you'd like to say hello to him before you leave?"

"Of course," Icheb said. He closed out his terminal and walked over to where Seven was standing. He reached his position just as Neelix's face appeared upon the screen.

"Hello there, my two favorite former Borgs. How are things going for you, Icheb? Seven tells me you're doing very well in your Academy classes with Tuvok."

"Well enough. In fact, I can't stay to chat today. I have a paper to finish."

"Don't let me keep you. More time for my game with Seven, then!"

"Say hello to Brax and Dexa for me," Icheb said, waving to the Talaxian as he took his leave from Astrometrics.

He'd barely entered the mess hall and was just about to choose his entrée -- Chell, as he'd threatened, had prepared Plasma Leak Soup and Chicken Warp Core Done Blew, among other punny additions to the night's menu -- when Seven hailed Icheb. :::I'm sorry to disturb your meal, Icheb, but the neutrino emissions detector alert has sounded.:::

"Affirmative. I'll be right there."

Shrugging his shoulders to Chell and stepping out of the dinner line, Icheb hurried off, back to Astrometrics. He didn't know if he was more excited by the possibility his device had alerted them to a wormhole heading into the Alpha Quadrant, or if it was because the gravimetric sensor array he'd first constructed over a year ago had actually worked as it was designed to do. If it had, his paper might end up being turned into an instructor at Starfleet Academy on Earth, instead of Commander Tuvok!

=/\=

When he rushed through the Astrometrics doorway, Icheb almost skidded to a stop at what he saw on the sensor array screen. "Seven, is this right? Are there really that many wormholes in this sector of space?"

Her smile was dazzling. "I've checked and rechecked the results, Icheb. There's no doubt. There are hundreds of them. Because they're embedded within a nebula, they're not visible visually. Thanks to your invention, we were able to detect them easily."

"Have you notified the captain?"

"I have. She's scheduled an emergency meeting. I need to leave to share our findings with the entire senior staff. Under the circumstances, we must make sure Astrometrics is manned at all times until we know how this will affect our course. I need you to cover for me until I return. This will, I fear, delay your evening meal somewhat."

"Don't worry about that! I'd like to investigate this phenomenon in detail. At the very least, I'll try to count how many wormholes there are in this region."

"Another thing you can do is work on mapping where the wormholes are leading. I've already identified several that appear to end in the Alpha Quadrant, but the quadrant itself is very large. We would want to utilize one that ends as close to Earth as possible. And some may be too small for Voyager to travel through. Recording the dimensions of any possible routes would also be desirable."

"Affirmative. You'd better get to your meeting."

Seven laughed softly. "I will, Icheb. The sooner I do, the sooner the meeting will be over. And then you'll be able to have that dinner you're so hungry for."

Icheb laughed then, too. The last thing he had on his mind at the moment was his stomach! But then, he had no doubt he'd feel differently if the meeting lasted more than an hour or so.

=/\=

Naomi Wildman's old observation that gossip sped around Voyager at dizzying speed because it was such a small ship was never more true than it was today. Everyone was talking about the wormhole-punctured nebula by the time Icheb reached the mess hall for a well-deserved, but exceedingly late, dinner. Fortunately, Chell had not closed the kitchen at 2030, as he usually did, because so many other diners were extremely late to arrive and/or were so busy talking with their friends, they were taking an inordinately long time to finish their meals. Chell had no problem with this. As Naomi had often confided to Icheb, "Crewman Chell is the biggest gossip on the ship." This news about the wormholes was seemingly made for the chatty chief chef, who was as adept at speculating about which members of the crew would be promoted as soon as Voyager returned to the Alpha Quadrant (this, mainly with the Starfleet contingent), as he was earnestly discussing the fate of the Maquis upon their arrival. Would they face jail time, or might they receive commendations for services to the Federation because of the way they'd contributed to Voyager's safe return? Icheb decided Chell was glad to debate either side of the issue. As long as he could air his opinions in his own inimitable way, he was a very happy Bolian. His skin tone might be blue, but his mood certainly wasn't.

When Icheb walked into the mess hall at 2310, he thought he would need to replicate his meal. As it turned out, Chell was serving Tom Paris' favorite, "old-fashioned tomato and cheese pizza," to anyone who wanted a late meal and wished or needed to preserve their replicator rations. The cheese for the pizza was replicated, of course. The tale of Neelix's disastrous attempt at cheese-making had reached the status of myth on board the ship; but Chell had picked up the basics of producing a high quality pizza dough very quickly. He was willing to replicate mushrooms and pepperoni to place on the pie, and he always whipped up his own version of Italian sausage, both hot and sweet, for toppings. He also used fresh Talaxian tomatoes, bell pepper, and onions grown hydroponically in Cargo Bay One. "It's all made fresh! Great as a meal or a snack! Have a slice! Have four!" he cheerfully commanded Icheb when he went through the mess hall line.

Icheb ordered six slices, each with a different set of toppings, and managed to consume every one within twenty minutes. After all, mapping wormhole destinations was hard work. He hadn't stopped to take any sort of meal or snack break the entire time he was in Astrometrics.

He wasn't alone in the mess hall, either. Several members of the Science Department in one corner were loudly relishing the possibility they'd be back in the Alpha Quadrant by Christmas. Several engineers and security section people were scattered around the hall, too, chatting with each other about getting home, when they weren't earnestly evaluating technical factors such as hull stresses and energy consumption ratios which might crop up if the chosen wormhole presented any barriers to an easy flight through. The likely date of the delivery of Lieutenant Torres' child was no longer the major topic of conversation. Icheb thought the mess hall looked more like it did during a typical lunch hour, rather than at midnight snack time.  

Even though he'd just eaten three-quarters of a large pizza, Icheb needed "a little something extra," as Neelix had always put it. After recycling his tray and dishes, he walked over to the replicator wall and punched up one of his Nutritional Supplement shakes. When Icheb turned around with his drink, he noticed that one member of the crew wasn't chatting with anyone else. Instead, he was slumped into the corner of one of the couches in the lounge area, lost in thoughts that, from the expression on his face, were anything but jubilant.

Carefully, Icheb approached his crewmate. "Mr. Lessing," Icheb said. "Do you mind if I join you?"

Wordlessly, Noah waved him to take the seat next to him on the couch. Icheb sat down and took a few sips of his shake before the silence between the pair was broken.

"I'm surprised you aren't being bombarded by our crewmates, congratulating you on the success of your wormhole-detecting device. A gravimetric sensor, right?" Noah said.

"If any of them saw the way I was inhaling my pizza, they probably wanted to stay as far away from me as they could. I might have bitten them by mistake."

Noah chuckled weakly at Icheb's quip, but he sat up a little straighter in the chair. "That's one of the supplemental shakes the Doctor prescribes for you, right?"

"Yes, although I probably don't really need the supplements for my Borg implants anymore. The Doctor says regular food gives me pretty much all I need at this point. I like some of his concoctions, though. They're nutritious for anyone, not just former Borg. Tom Paris says the one I'm drinking now tastes like root beer to him. It goes really well with pizza." Icheb replied.

"I imagine it would. I like root beer floats for dessert, but I'm not sure if I'd enjoy them with pizza. As far as I'm concerned, root beer is too sweet. It doesn't go with savory foods."

"B'Elanna Torres has been drinking these shakes a lot since her pregnancy began. Tom told me she sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night and demands that he bring her one."

"When she isn't dragging him off to Sickbay because of false labor pains!" Noah laughed. Icheb privately congratulated himself for being able to cheer up the exobiologist. Those mental pats on his back didn't last long, though. Noah sat further up and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, and began to rub his hands together. "I guess you're wondering why I'm sitting over here instead of with my co-workers from Sciences over there," he stated quietly.

Icheb knew exactly why the former ensign of the lost Equinox had chosen this spot, but he simply shrugged his shoulders noncommittally and waited for Noah to tell him whatever he felt comfortable enough to share with him. After a pause, Noah went on, "I know the Maquis have an uncertain future, but because of things that happened on my last ship . . . the one that was dragged into the Delta Quadrant around the time Voyager was . . . oh, hell! Equinox was the ship from hell. I know I'm going to suffer the consequences of what our crew did on that vessel. All five of us will. We weren't looking forward to getting back to the Alpha Quadrant this soon, I can tell you that. You probably don't know what I'm talking about. This all happened before Voyager encountered your cube. Forget I said anything."

Noah began to stand up, but Icheb reached out and touched the arm of his companion, saying, "No, I do know."

Noah studied Icheb for several seconds before settling back into the couch. "I guess you've had to study the ship's logs as part of your training," Noah remarked resignedly.

"I have, but actually, it was Mezoti who found out first. She hacked into the logs very soon after we came on board. We'd heard whisperings a few times about something happening to the five of you, and Mezoti had to know all the details."

Noah smiled ruefully and shook his head slowly. "Man, I miss that kid. I guess you must miss her even more than I do."

"I do," Icheb sighed.

"Well, if you know what we did, murdering aliens and turning their bodies into fuel so we could get our ship moving faster, then I guess you do understand."

"According to the logs, your Captain Rudy Ransom told Captain Janeway you five were 'the best' of your crew and deserved a second chance. Maybe it won't be as bad as you think."

"I'd like to think that, Icheb, but I doubt it. Marla heard from her sister during one of the Project Watson transmissions that there's been talk about Equinox. The Ransom and Burke families seem to be pressing for commendations for our late captain and executive officer. If that sort of talk continues, the facts eventually will come out; and then we'll be given prison sentences instead of a hero's welcome. Marla may lose custody of Aimee. I think that bothers me more than whatever they may choose to do to me. Marla needs Aimee, and Aimee needs her Mommy. After what we did I deserve to spend time in prison."

Noah stopped then and took several deep breaths, as if he had been physically exerting himself. Maybe, in a way, he had. As far as Icheb knew, the "Equinox Five" never spoke about this to anyone, except, perhaps, each other. Admitting all this to Icheb must have taken a grave toll on the tall, gentle crewman who'd always treated the "Borglets" with kindness and respect. Perhaps sharing a bit of his own history, which hadn't ever become part of the gossip chain as far as Icheb knew, might be appropriate.

"Mr. Lessing, do you know why all the adult drones on the Borg cube we were on died?"

"They encountered some sort of pathogen, I heard."

"Do you know where this pathogen came from?"

"No, I don't think I ever heard anything about the source."

"You're looking at the source," Icheb relayed, more calmly than he felt.

Noah looked skeptically at Icheb, but what he saw on the cadet's face must have convinced him the revelation was neither a joke nor a lie. "You killed thousands of drones?"

"Thanks to an adjustment in my DNA that my birth parents introduced into my genome. Yes, it's true. I didn't know anything about this until after the captain went back to Brunal and rescued me from being assimilated again by the Borg. I'm responsible for those deaths -- or, at least, my body is. Seven and Tom Paris have told me my parents were responsible, not me. I had no part in the decision to use my body the way they did, but it's hard for me to ignore it. And if I'm assimilated again, I'd undoubtedly destroy all the drones on the vessel that does the deed." Icheb thought about whether to share the biggest part of the secret. He held his breath for a moment, then added, "The truth is, I've been working on refining this neurological pathogen as a weapon against the Borg; so if it's ever used, I'll be responsible for the death of who knows how many aliens whose only crime is that they were assimilated and enslaved. If I could get to the Queen and just kill her, I would. Eradicate the Queen, and maybe the Borg menace would disappear, but unfortunately, that opportunity isn't likely to ever come up."

"But that's not the same as what we did on Equinox," Noah said sadly. "If you've read the logs, you know what we did."

"From what I read, you were forced to cooperate, very much against your will."

"I'm afraid a defense of 'I was only following orders' never works out in a court martial."

Icheb had to admit this was true from his studies, but he didn't want to say this to Noah. It wasn't right that the commanding officers of Equinox would never be prosecuted because they were dead, while five of the crew they coerced to act in terrible ways would face punishment. There was one thing he could say, however, that was equally true: "Don't be so sure we're going to get to the Alpha Quadrant so easily. We're still trying to work out why so many wormholes are located in such a relatively small area of space. Maybe they aren't as stable as we need to get through. And it seems awfully convenient that the area is hidden so completely by that nebula surrounding it. We may find it's not the route to Earth we'd like it to be."

"I guess that old adage about taking things one step and one day at a time still holds true. Whatever happens, I'm glad I had this talk with you, Icheb. This is a painful subject. My conscience gets to me whenever I think about it."

"If I could terminate the Queen, after all she's done, I would. And I have to admit my conscience wouldn't bother me at all. At least, I hope it wouldn’t."

"That's the problem. Until something like this happens, you don't know what your conscience will do to you." Noah stood up and held out his had to Icheb's to shake it. "I'm on Alpha shift tomorrow. I guess I better hit my bunk and try to get some rest. Good night, Icheb."

After Noah Lessing left, Icheb sat on the couch in the lounge area for quite a while, reviewing what he knew about everything they'd discussed. His cautionary statement to Noah about the wormholes not necessarily being their route home was certainly true, but what if they could use one? What if they arrived in the Alpha Quadrant in only a few days or weeks? The new life he'd been imagining for himself, which he'd always assumed wouldn't happen until he was an adult, might be possible while he was still an adolescent. Although Icheb was sure he'd still want to be a Starfleet officer, he would at least have the option of following another path if he ever did change his mind. He might choose to study to be a physician. Becoming a full-time genetics researcher wasn't out of the question, either.

His personal life choices could be very different as well. If Voyager's journey continued for twenty or thirty years, his choices of mate would be extremely limited. Even now, only a few couples on board were beginning to edge towards forming a family, as Tom and B'Elanna had. And the only person even close to his age on this ship was Naomi!

He had to chuckle to himself over the image of Naomi standing next to him in front of Captain Janeway as they took their vows, but then he stopped to consider the ramifications. Naomi was only five years old, but she looked closer to twelve. At the rate she was going, she would be fully grown within five or six years. Naomi and Icheb were great friends now, but would they ever desire each other in the future? If they did marry in a future lived on Voyager, would they feel they'd settled for the only person in their age group rather than having a true choice of spouse? In the Alpha Quadrant, none of that would be a problem. They'd both have plenty of potential mates. If they ever did become more than friends, it would be because they wanted it, not because they only had each other.

Seven and Chakotay -- was that what was really happening between them? Settling for one of the few individuals on the ship who attracted them enough to even consider as mates? Icheb had heard from enough of the crew who had been on board Voyager from the beginning of the Starfleet/Maquis alliance who believed the captain and the commander had cared deeply for each other from very early on in the journey. They'd spent several months together on a planet they'd called New Earth when they were afflicted by a virus from a bug bite. The illness would have killed them if they'd stayed on the ship, but conditions on the planet controlled their symptoms. A Vidiian doctor who had become the EMH's friend after he treated her for a fatal illness on Voyager provided a serum that cured the command team, and they returned to the ship. Whenever anyone inquired about how close Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay had become when they weren't the captain and her first officer, the pair adroitly deflected the question.

Most of the crew suspected they'd become lovers on New Earth. They were convinced the only reason they weren't together now was attributable to Starfleet protocols prohibiting an officer from "fraternizing" with anyone under his or her direct chain of command. For the captain, that meant everyone (other than Michael Sullivan, the holodeck character who was the proprietor of Fair Haven's pub -- or so it was rumored). Actually, that meant the commander, too, since, as second in command, everyone was also under his direct supervision. Since Seven had never enlisted in Starfleet and technically she was only a "passenger" and "consultant," the rules apparently did not apply to her. Actually, they probably did apply, but if Seven wanted something, she never let a little thing like published regulations stop her from pursuing her goal.

Was that the real attraction she had for Chakotay? That he didn't have to follow the protocols as far as she was concerned? If that was true, Icheb felt even more uneasy about their attachment to each other than he did about how it might affect his own relationship with Seven.

If Mezoti had still been here, they could have talked all of this over, verbally and subvocally. No, he corrected himself, he would have been forced to speak to her out loud now, but that wouldn't have mattered. She'd have made sure he knew her opinions on everything. They'd been so close. Mezoti had been everything he'd wanted in a sibling. He'd known that even before she left. He wished he could speak with her again now, to share all they'd learned, and to hear her speculating about what this discovery meant to everyone. But she wasn't here, and Icheb didn't know when, or if, he'd ever get the chance to speak with her again. While a lot of scary incidents had occurred on Voyager since she chose to live with the Wysanti, if she had known the journey would only take another year -- and not even that long -- would she have been more willing to take her chances traveling with Seven and Icheb instead of choosing the safer path of living planetside? Maybe she wouldn't have left. Maybe he wouldn't have lost her.

Even though this was, in a way, a temporal matter, Icheb felt an ache in his heart, not his head. He wished he could travel back in time and let Mezoti know how soon their journey could end. Maybe he'd be able to convince her to stay on Voyager, with all of those who missed her -- even those like Noah Lessing, who'd been one of her teachers and, Icheb was certain, her friend.

Losing Mezoti was something he was convinced he'd never get over.

=/\=

Everyone on Voyager was abuzz with anticipation as the ship approached the "Wormhole Nebula," as Tom Paris had duly christened it to unanimous approbation. Icheb had secretly hoped Seven would be standing at the station she usually used when she was on the bridge, but today, she decided to remain in Astrometrics and had pointedly refused his suggestion that she needed a backup. Fortunately, the Ensigns Delaney had invited Icheb to come to Stellar Cartography and stand with them, along with virtually the entire Sciences Division, as Voyager entered the swirling gasses. Every screen there was tuned to views of the bridge, as recorded by the official log imaging system. Icheb had no doubt that everyone else had a way of watching, as well. Ensign Wildman had even consented for Naomi to stand with them, holding baby Aimee, since Marla Gilmore had to man her station in Engineering.

Thus just about everyone on Voyager was privy to the near collision with the Borg cube and to the way Lieutenant Paris suddenly ducked down as the vessel swooped all too close overhead. The sound of everyone in the room sucking in their breath, waiting to see if the cube would come back to assimilate them, swirled around Icheb. His discussion with Noah Lessing about the fate of any drones who made the mistake of assimilating Icheb, which had taken place only days before, came back to haunt him until it was clear the cube had failed to change course and, instead, was proceeding on its established heading.

Icheb excused himself and ran to find Seven staring at the main screen of Astrometrics. She barely glanced up as he entered, but after he asked her if they were looking at a Borg matrix of some type, she turned to face him.

"I'm not sure. It could be. Help me evaluate the data, Icheb. I'm sure the captain will need it very soon."

They worked in silence for several minutes before Icheb reported, "I count at least forty vessels."

"Forty-seven, to be exact," Seven replied.

:::Seven of Nine, report to the conference room for an urgent staff meeting,::: the captain's voice summoned.

Tapping her combadge, she responded, "I will comply." Turning to Icheb, she commanded, "Continue monitoring all activity in the nebula. If you notice a deviation in the flightpath of any of the vessels, contact us in the conference room immediately."

"I will comply," Icheb responded. A chill ran up his back as he realized he was speaking as a drone, not a Starfleet Academy cadet. He hoped he could remain the latter, and not have some reckless Borg drone try to assimilate him back into the Collective. Such an action would not be conducive to a long life for either of them.

=/\=

For the next couple of days, life on board Voyager continued much as it had for the prior seven years. Astrometrics was manned at all times, of course, since neither the captain nor Seven were ready to assume the Borg had not noticed them in the nebula, even though none of the vessels detected there had shown up on long range sensors. It was possible, if unlikely, that the Borg, for some unknown reason, could be tracking Voyager in a manner that was undetectable to Federation sensors. Continued vigilance was therefore mandatory.

When Icheb visited the Paris-Torres quarters the evening after the near-miss, Tom regaled him with a story about how Harry Kim had tried to entice Tom into taking the Delta Flyer for a spin back into the nebula in a last-ditch effort to find a way home. "He put it to me as 'one last adventure' for Captain Proton and Buster Kincaid to indulge in before I was too busy with fatherhood. I told Harry I already was home," Tom laughed. "When he insisted Captain Proton would never walk away from that kind of mission, I reminded him that Captain Proton didn't have a wife, with a baby on the way!"

Icheb thought it was a funny story, but he noticed B'Elanna wasn't laughing.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Megan had just walked out of the door when the order came from the bridge. Some sort of spatial rift was opening in front of Voyager. Commander Tuvok asked Ensign Delaney to evaluate its properties and report her findings as quickly as possible. When Icheb responded affirmatively, while also letting the commander know he'd been called to Astrometrics by Ensign Delaney, he knew there was one item he could check off his "to do" list. At least Commander Tuvok now knew Icheb was again too busy to finish composing a paper for him.

Only seconds later, Icheb reported, "From the tachyon emissions coming from the rift, I believe it is temporal in nature, Commander."

:::Thank you, Cadet,::: Tuvok answered. :::Continue evaluating the situation. Report any new details to me.:::

A minute later, Icheb contacted Voyager's tactical officer again. "Commander, I'm detecting evidence of weapons fire in the form of nadion discharges." He paused as he considered how unlikely the rest of his readings were, but the commander had asked him to report all his findings. This might be a very significant one. "I may be mistaken about this, Commander, but the weapons fire appears to have a Klingon signature."

Tuvok had not broken their communications link, so Icheb could hear him tell the bridge officers about the nadion discharges coming from the other side of the rift, along with Icheb's conclusion that they were consistent with Klingon weaponry.

While continuing his observations of the rift, Icheb turned on a console screen to allow him to monitor what was happening on the bridge after Tuvok closed off their communications link. He heard Harry report they were being hailed. He also heard a familiar voice and saw a face he recognized on the viewscreen, even though it was changed markedly from the one he knew. Shocked, he almost forgot to check the main Astrometrics screen to see the shadowy outlines of two Klingon vessels, following a small vessel, the one which held a person who looked and sounded exactly like his Captain Janeway -- albeit a considerably older version.

Before Icheb had a chance to report this new discovery, Commander Tuvok proved he'd noticed those in pursuit. :::Captain, a Klingon vessel is coming through.:::

The Janeway on the viewscreen ordered his captain to fire an anti-tachyon pulse at the rift to close it. :::In case you didn't notice, I outrank you, Captain. NOW DO IT!:::

Icheb couldn't even imagine what Captain Janeway was feeling, but she followed the orders of the woman on the screen. She identified herself as Admiral Janeway. Icheb's head began to spin. Was this another temporal anomaly? Would he actually meet this Captain Braxton of the Federation Temporal Police that Tom had told him about? What was happening?

When Admiral Janeway responded to a query Captain Janeway posed to her, Icheb's last question was answered, at least in part. To the captain's acid, ". . . what the hell is going on?" the Admiral had simply replied, :::I've come to bring Voyager home.:::

=/\=

If the days following the discovery of the Wormhole Nebula had been filled with anticipation, along with more than a little dread on the part of a significant percentage of the crew, the appearance of a Kathryn Janeway who claimed to be from some twenty-six years in the future created a sensation. When the woman arrived on board, everyone who saw her in the flesh remarked that she looked "just like the captain." If this Admiral Janeway is telling the truth, Icheb thought, of course she would look just like the captain -- just older.

During the first day she was on Voyager, Icheb saw her only from a distance. Although he knew she must be a couple of decades older than their captain, Icheb thought her quite lovely. Her hair was a silky, pure white. Her face was still beautiful, with only a bare minimum of wrinkles. While her figure had thickened slightly at the waist, as Icheb had learned was common with older humans, she carried herself firmly erect, like a much younger person. In fact, Icheb thought her posture tended to be a little too stiff. It was as if the years had turned her bones to steel, whether from disappointment or from the need to be vigilant always, never daring to relax for a moment lest she risk attack from some unknown quarter.

Although he knew he wasn't supposed to spy on anything going on in Sickbay, Icheb suspected the Doctor would, at some point, need to verify her identity through DNA comparison. While Icheb's assistance wouldn't be needed for such a simple procedure, he invented a fictitious experiment and positioned himself in the adjacent lab soon after she arrived, "just in case." Icheb was rewarded when he heard that familiar voice echoing out of Sickbay. It was even huskier than the captain's, but through his enhanced hearing, he determined its timbre was exactly the same as hers. When the second, slightly less husky voice also appeared, Icheb took a chance and leaned just outside his doorway. Once he heard the Doctor confirm the admiral was, in fact, the same person as the captain, but approximately twenty-six years older, Icheb stepped away from the lab and into the corridor. If they really were getting home in a matter of days he might not need to worry about the Doctor catching him eavesdropping; but after all of the mishaps Icheb had already experienced during his time on Voyager, he wasn't going to risk losing his lab privileges now. Better to be safe than sorry.

When he arrived at the mess hall, Icheb found it awash with rumors. No one knew anything for certain, however, until the entire engineering staff was called back to begin work on a special project. The admiral's ship from the future had three advanced systems. While one, a type of stealth shielding, wasn't compatible with Voyager's current level of technology, the other two were. Most of the engineers were assigned to install ablative armor over Voyager's entire surface. The rest, with Icheb and a few others from Sciences who were tabbed to assist, manufactured a number of extremely powerful transphasic torpedoes. All of these technologies had been developed under the direction of Admiral Kathryn Janeway, who identified herself as the "author of the book on how to defeat the Borg."

After the shields and torpedoes were fully installed, Voyager was to return to the Wormhole Nebula. They were going to try to get home that way after all.

=/\=

A hugely pregnant Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres was in the middle of a pep talk, praising "her teams" for finishing the application of the shielding over the ship's hull and for installing a full complement of the new torpedoes into their launching racks. She singled out Icheb and Freddie Bristow for their outstanding work. Now everyone was to reinforce Voyager's energy systems  in preparation for the plunge through the chosen wormhole. Just as the chief engineer finished her lecture, Icheb's combadge activated. Stepping back and away from the rest of the group, Icheb answered the EMH's hail.

:::Icheb, please come to Sickbay. Seven requires your presence.:::

"Is she sick, Doctor?" Icheb asked, perturbed. "It's not her cortical node again, is it?"

:::No, but her regeneration cubicle malfunctioned briefly. She's going to be fine, but she'd like to speak with you.:::

"Tell her I'll be right there."

=/\=

When Seven disclosed the Borg Queen had contacted her, Icheb became extremely upset. The Queen not only knew about their plans, she'd also caused the EM surge which had injured Seven. Once he was assured Seven was really all right, Icheb told her he was going back to work in Engineering, unless she preferred that he report to Astrometrics. The Doctor was keeping Seven in Sickbay for another hour or so before allowing her to return to duty. Icheb realized how unsettled Seven was by the entire incident when she allowed him to kiss her gently on the cheek as he said good-bye.

As Icheb was leaving, the Doctor took him aside and inquired, "Have you had any 'Borg Queen dreams' yourself lately?"

"Doctor, I don't have a cortical node anymore. You inserted it into Seven. The Queen can't contact me subvocally."

After a noncommittal "hmm," the Doctor asked, "How much time do you currently spend in your regeneration cubicle?"

"A couple of hours a week. During my last check-up, you said you weren't sure I even needed to be in it for that long."

"Ah, so I did. When was the last time you used it?"

"Well, I prefer to sleep standing up in an alcove, but the last time I had any current going through me was two nights ago."

"Just to be on the safe side, Icheb, I'd sleep somewhere else, perhaps even in a bed -- just in case the Queen has a way of getting to you through your remaining Borg implant system."

Icheb nodded agreement as he stepped out of Sickbay. So the Borg Queen knew they planned to utilize a wormhole to return to the Alpha Quadrant, and she didn't want them going into that nebula. To discourage this, she might try to hurt Icheb, even though it would be a lot harder for her to reach him than it had been to injure Seven. This wasn't good. Not at all. It was looking more and more like the plethora of wormholes inside that nebula was not a natural phenomenon. If it was what Icheb feared it was, he doubted the road home to the Alpha Quadrant would pass through there, no matter what Admiral Janeway insisted.

=/\=

Despite the Borg Queen's warning, the ship plowed on towards the Wormhole Nebula. This time, at Voyager's approach, a Borg cube confronted them. Admiral Janeway's futuristic weapons were as effective as she'd touted. When the Borg fired on Voyager, the transphasic torpedoes fired in response caused the cube to explode in a spectacular and, one might even say, unprecedented manner. When another cube faced off against Voyager, it, too, was blown to smithereens. Despite this evidence of the new torpedoes' effectiveness, more Borg cubes began to fire on the Starfleet ship. While the new ablative armor contained the damage, Voyager's shields began to weaken. This ship can't take much more, Icheb thought, as he watched the action from his preferred monitoring position in Astrometrics. They'd either have to flee again or try to force their way through a virtually impenetrable Borg blockade.

Just then Voyager burst through the thickest clouds of nebular gasses, which revealed a glowing ball of energy punctured with myriad openings. Icheb knew these apertures were wormhole entrances and exits. From the Borg memories he still retained, he recognized exactly what this was. It wasn't a Borg matrix, or even a part of the Collective's transwarp conduit system. It was one of six transwarp hubs -- all that existed in the entire galaxy -- which permitted the Borg to travel from point to point at velocities which made all other faster-than-light technologies irrelevant. Moving at maximum warp speed, Voyager would appear to be standing completely still, like an insect entombed within a piece of amber. 

It was, quite simply, the secret of the Borg's success. No wonder the Queen didn't want them anywhere near it.

=/\=

The captain and the admiral gave conflicting orders to Lieutenant Paris. Unsurprisingly, the helmsman obeyed his captain, not the admiral. Voyager flew away from the hub at maximum warp. While Icheb could observe this much on his monitor, he wasn't privy to the rest of the argument, which took place in the conference room only minutes after Voyager fled from further confrontations with Borg cubes. Fortunately, the Collective seemed to be content to let Voyager go, as long as it was heading away from their precious transwarp hub.

Although Icheb would have to wait for Seven or one of the other senior staff members to give him the particulars, he assumed the admiral was still insisting they use the transwarp hub to get back to the Alpha Quadrant, despite the danger to the ship from the Borg. Clearly, if the admiral had used the hub herself to get home, she wouldn't have needed to come to the here and now to convince the captain to use it. She must have passed on the opportunity, too; but what did that mean for this crew? While it was obvious that Kathryn Janeway had returned home safely, no one knew how many made it back with her. It stood to reason that not everyone now residing on Voyager would have survived. From his explorations of Federation literature, Icheb was very familiar with the Greek poet Homer's The Iliad and The Odyssey. It took twenty long years for Odysseus to return home to his family; and when he finally did, he was alone. Everyone who had gone with him to battle the Trojans had perished on the way back.

Icheb wasn't happy to make that association, and he quickly became aware that he wasn't the only one on board who had been exposed to the benefits of classic Terran literature. When he went to the mess hall, shortly after they'd turned away from the hub, to grab a quick bite before returning to duty in Astrometrics, quite a few of the crew were mentioning "Homer" and "Odyssey" in hushed conversations.

Since the admiral hadn't been forthcoming about which of them were still alive when the admiral left her time, it wasn't surprising the crew members were becoming markedly jittery about their futures. When Seven stopped by Astrometrics to confirm their meeting in the conference room had ended with toasts "to the journey," along with a unanimous decision by the senior staff to continue on Voyager's previous course rather than turning back to the hub (as the admiral still wished), Icheb didn't know whether to be happy or apprehensive. He hadn't been able to learn anything about his own fate, or Seven's, in the admiral's timeline. He thanked Seven for the information, however, and thought the matter had finally been laid to rest.

He was wrong, of course. He hadn't counted on the persuasive powers of Kathryn Janeway -- and the admiral had lots more practice at being her.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

In response to a summons from Captain Janeway, Icheb stepped into her ready room to find both Kathryn Janeways standing in front of him. From close proximity, Icheb could see the tiny lines around the admiral's eyes, which revealed her age more clearly than he'd been able to detect when he'd viewed her from a distance. She smiled as soon as she saw him, which made him feel as comfortable as he usually did whenever he spoke with Kathryn Janeway.

That is, not particularly.

"Icheb! It's so good to see you!" the admiral exclaimed heartily. "How are you doing? Is everything going well for you on Voyager?"

"Very well, ma'am. Sir. Admiral?" The captain preferred to be called by her rank in lieu of the many other forms of address considered appropriate for a commanding officer of the female gender. Was that still the case for this Kathryn Janeway? Icheb immediately thought he'd bungled the meeting when it had barely even begun.

The admiral chuckled lightly, however. "Admiral will do. Tell me, have you begun studying with Tuvok yet? It's been a long time. I'm a little unsure of exactly where you are in this timeline."

"Yes, m . . . Admiral. I passed the Starfleet Academy Entrance Examination several months ago. Commander Tuvok has been tutoring me ever since." He wondered if he should mention his very tardy paper, but he decided against it.

"Good, good. And you're pursuing some independent study projects as well, aren't you?" This question was asked with a quiet intensity that suggested she knew of his genetic manipulation investigations. Of course. If the timelines had diverged when she arrived in the Delta Quadrant, everything Icheb had experienced and done on Voyager up to then was the same for both Kathryn Janeways. Icheb glanced towards his captain. Other than a brief nod when he entered her Ready Room, she'd barely moved and hadn't uttered a single word since he did. She knew about the project of course, although he'd only spoken directly to her about it during its initial phases. He'd reported his findings to Seven, the Doctor, and Commander Tuvok ever since.

"Yes, Admiral. From your question, I take it you know the main objective of my studies."

"Yes, I know exactly what it is. What I don't recall is how much progress you've made to this point." Those eyes were boring into him now. It certainly wasn't a "Janeway glare," as the crew referred to it, since that was as good as a slap on the face. It was as if she wanted to peer into his mind and tease out every detail of his discoveries to date.

Icheb sighed deeply. "If you're inquiring if the weapon is ready, it is."

The captain looked quizzically at him and asked, "Are you calling yourself a weapon now?"

"No, Captain. You know that anyone can be a weapon if the serum I've developed is injected into their body and that person is later assimilated. However, I've been . . . tinkering with the genetics for a while now. In the latest version, the change will happen very rapidly. In minutes, even, rather than in days or weeks. Any drone in the same Borg vessel will begin to deteriorate almost as quickly as the one who injected the nanoprobes does."

"Good. Very good," the admiral mused, a satisfied look upon her face. The captain looked shocked. Obviously, neither Seven, the Doctor, nor Commander Tuvok had gotten around to telling the captain about his latest formulation of the serum. While he hadn't expected Seven or the Doctor to tell her, as Commander Tuvok had insisted it was his responsibility, Icheb was surprised that the ship's weapons expert had not yet done so. He'd known about this for weeks. It wasn't possible Commander Tuvok had forgotten to inform her, was it?

The captain broke this chain of thought when she inquired, "Icheb, I know you were also investigating whether or not your serum would affect other ships in the Collective. Do you have an answer to that question?"

"Perhaps," Icheb grudgingly admitted, "but I have no way to know without a test, and for that, we would need to be in a position for one Borg vessel to be close enough to another for the infection to spread. Although there may be many Borg vessels in and around the transwarp hub, I don't think that's the best place to go to perform testing protocols."

"I agree!" the captain laughed grimly, and even the admiral chuckled, although that's exactly where she wanted Voyager to go.

Icheb was emboldened to explain further. "The neurolytic pathogen affects the Borg nervous system along the neural interlink frequency, which communicates the orders of the Queen throughout the Collective via the Viniculum in each ship. The pathogen creates a very subtle, initially undetectable vibration in the frequency. As the rate of vibration increases, it eventually becomes obvious, but by that time, it's too late to stop its progression. The frequency reaches a level of distortion that creates chaos in organisms and, after a time, destroys the vessel itself. Since the neural interlink frequency connects all of the Borg, in theory, it would result in chaos throughout the Hive. It's difficult to tell, as I said, without testing. The only way the vibration's progress could be halted would be if the Queen destroyed every infected vessel -- and she'd have to know it was happening at all before it affected her, too. We know she's capable of ruthlessly eradicating her own vessels containing thousands of drones with little cause. She destroyed huge cubes and every drone on them when she was trying to stop a handful of Unimatrix Zero drones from breaking away from her control."

The captain pursed her lips and nodded slightly, acknowledging the truth of his observation, before she asked, "Do you think that's what happened to your Children's Collective Cube? The Queen ordered all of the affected drones to destroy themselves?"

"I don't think so, Captain. It would have been much easier for her to explode the cube, and then you'd never have been able to rescue us. I believe the pathogen my body creates caused the drones on our cube to lose the ability to communicate, and then the vibration interfered with their functioning to such an extent that they died, or perhaps terminated themselves out of confusion. That would explain why our cube remained intact. By the time the Queen recognized she'd lost her connection to our drones, it was too late for her to order our cube's destruction. She had to stop any Borg vessel from coming to investigate and catching the infection. She sent a message ordering us to terminate ourselves, a message we were unable to decrypt until Seven came on our cube and translated it for us. However, if the vibrations created by the pathogen continued to accelerate until they affected the cube's mechanical systems, once the systems deteriorated beyond a certain level, the vessel itself would lose structural integrity and explode."

The admiral shook her head. "That does explain what happened. You have an excellent mind, Cadet. I don't think I'm breaking any of the Federation Temporal Police's rules by suggesting you will become a fine Starfleet officer eventually."

Icheb grinned with pleasure. "Really? What is my rank in your time, Admiral Janeway?"

The admiral's face suddenly turned to a stony mask. The blue eyes staring at Icheb became cold, yet Icheb didn't feel a rush of anger emanating from her. Her brows had pinched together, causing deep furrows to appear; and her lips were clasped grimly together, as if she were struggling to hold back words she would regret.

It was as if his ability to communicate subvocally was restored, but not with other Borg like Seven or Mezoti -- with Admiral Kathryn Janeway. Icheb wasn't alive in her time. He didn't know how he knew this. He didn't know why he was also certain he'd never had the pleasure of reaching the Alpha Quadrant; but suddenly, he did.

"Let me rephrase that, Admiral. What was my rank as of the day I died?"

The stony look disappeared in a flush of red. "The Temporal Police would get after me if I told you that, Cadet!" she snapped, apparently not realizing she'd confirmed Icheb's supposition by the way she'd phrased her response. Her demeanor quickly softened, and she added, "There's no point in me saying any more about it anyway, Icheb. That time stream was extinguished as soon as I exited the temporal rift and came on board. None of this happened when I was the captain of Voyager. Everything's changed. There's no point in telling any of this crew what happened to those who served with me."

Stung, Icheb contritely apologized, "I'm sorry if I was insubordinate, Admiral. I didn't mean to offend you."

Both versions of Kathryn Janeway chuckled at the same moment, but it was the admiral was the one who answered him. "Curiosity is not the same thing as insubordination, Cadet, most of the time. And you didn't offend me." She sighed deeply. "You gave me a reminder -- as if I really needed one -- of all those we lost during the additional years my Voyager traveled through the Delta Quadrant. That's why I came: to prevent those losses from happening."

Icheb breathed more easily with the quick change of mood. He sensed the interview was coming to an end, but he had something else to say before it did. "Admiral, Captain, one more thing . . . I haven't administered the improved serum to myself yet, but just say the word and I will. If a 'sacrificial lamb' is needed to attack the Borg so we can use the hub, I offer myself." He stopped and swallowed deeply before adding, "That's why I was born, you know. "

The captain gently replied, "Thank you, Cadet. Your offer is noted. I trust we won't need to take you up on it."

The admiral had turned away from Icheb as the captain was speaking. Thanks to his enhanced sense of hearing, he could hear her whisper, as if to herself, "I have another 'sacrificial lamb' in mind."

He saw the captain glance sharply at her older counterpart at the same time she said to Icheb, "Dismissed."

As he turned to leave the Ready Room, the admiral casually added, "I haven't had a chance to visit 'Borg Central' yet on this trip, Captain. You don't mind if I follow our young friend on his way home, do you?"

The captain cleared her throat as if something was stuck in it, but when she spoke, her voice sounded the way it always did. "Of course, Admiral. Don't take too long, though. We'll need your expertise if we're to accomplish our mission."

The Admiral nodded and stepped out of the Ready Room door, with Icheb following on her heels.

=/\=

The admiral smiled at him once while they descended in the turbolift, but she didn't speak again until they reached Deck Eight and began the short walk to Cargo Bay Two. At that, it was only to murmur a soft, "Borg Central," in tones Icheb associated with someone longing for an unattainable objective. The doors to the bay slid open. The admiral entered and circuited the space at a slow pace, her fingers lightly stroking the surfaces of several storage containers which Neelix left behind when he moved to the Talaxian colony. She caressed the console Seven and Icheb used whenever they worked in their quarters. Eventually, she ascended the platform to the regeneration alcoves, two of which glowed with the acid green, flickering light of Borg technology. The admiral stood in front of both for quite a while, much longer than Icheb had anticipated. She seemed as intent at studying the cubicle Seven always used as she did his.

When the admiral finally descended the steps and headed towards the door, Icheb was at a loss for words. He didn't dare ask her again about his rank at the time of his death, but at that point he really didn't need to. As before, without knowing exactly how, he knew he hadn't lived for very long. He might not have even reached adulthood. As she approached the door, however, she turned back to him and said, "In my timeline, Naomi named her first son after you."

So perhaps he had lived long enough to develop some sort of relationship with Naomi. He decided not to ask the admiral if they'd ever become lovers, or if they'd just continued to be very close friends. Even if Naomi and Icheb had enjoyed a romantic relationship, the admiral might not know how physical it had actually been. As she'd already quite firmly informed him, that time stream had been obliterated as soon as she came through the rift and stepped on board. Perhaps in this new one Naomi would name her first son after someone else.

The admiral was still examining him closely, and here he was, standing in front of her, saying nothing at all. That wouldn't do. "Admiral, is there anything more I can do for you? Would you like me to accompany you to another location?"

She shook her head. "No, Ensign. I was simply remembering what a fine officer you turned out to be."

Had that just slipped out, or had she answered his earlier question in a way which shouldn't upset anyone monitoring temporal matters on Voyager at this moment in time? In fact, why was this moment in time occurring at all? Shouldn't the Federation Temporal Police have already swooped in to return the timeline to its original state? Yet here was a Kathryn Janeway from the future, apparently altering the past, without any visible attempts to stop her. What was going on here, anyway? Was this something that was meant to happen?

The admiral began to smile, in that crooked way the captain sometimes did. Before she left, he would risk one more query, or, perhaps, he would be better off simply stating it as a fact. "So, I guess I managed to graduate from the Academy."

Her smile broadened into a grin. "Yes, a very fine officer," was all she said, but her head bobbed slightly, in what Icheb took to be affirmation.

And then she slipped away.

=/\=

He went right to the lab after the admiral disappeared down the corridor, headed towards the turbolift. After reviewing all of his data and testing a tiny sample of the serum for quality, Icheb prepared enough of the substance to fill three hyposprays. It was likely only one would be required, but having a couple of spares was advisable, just in case more than one attack on the Collective was necessary. From the way the captain had addressed him after he offered to deliver the serum to the Collective, he didn't believe he'd be the first choice for the task, but he would insist on being the "first back up" if one was needed.

He suspected the "other sacrificial lamb" which the admiral had in mind was Admiral Kathryn Janeway herself. She hadn't come back in time to waste the chance to save the counterparts of her own crew. Harry had confided to Icheb that the device she'd used to travel back in time had burnt itself out getting her here. She had no way to go back to a timeline that probably was no longer in existence anyway.

Since Neelix was no longer on Voyager, he didn't know who else might volunteer for the third hypo. In other circumstances, Tom Paris might have; he was infamous for stepping forward and taking risks to protect everyone on Voyager. Circumstances precluded it this time. Tom was about to become a father, and his B'Elanna and new little daughter would need him here, to protect them to the end, if need be.

He had a suspicion that if a second back-up was necessary, his own Captain Janeway might fill the role. She'd volunteered for other missions that seemed to have little or no chance of success. Icheb knew this firsthand, since he'd been on board when she'd allowed herself to be assimilated in the matter of Unimatrix Zero. He was well aware that she'd planned to invade the cube all by herself. The senior staff insisted she accept companions. That was the only reason B'Elanna and Commander Tuvok had joined her team at that time, which turned out to be a very good thing. The mission probably would have failed if B'Elanna hadn't been part of it. Voyager and its people already would have been assimilated.

He didn't want to think about this anymore. Icheb didn't know if it was the time travel aspect or because this was a suicide mission for the one who would try to penetrate the Borg's defenses, but he had a pounding headache. Before he took to the bunk he'd been temporarily assigned in Freddie Bristow's quarters for a much-needed nap, he had one more task to complete.

=/\=

"Enter."

Icheb stepped into the Ready Room. The captain was alone. She looked up from her computer screen and said, "Yes, Cadet? What is it you want?"

"Nothing Captain." He walked over to her and gently laid down the three hyposprays on the surface of her desk. "Two spares. Just in case they're needed. The first spare is for me."

Captain Janeway nodded ever so slightly as she examined the items in front of her, her face a blank mask, but when she gazed up at him, her eyes glistened with tears. "Thank you, Icheb," she whispered softly.

He bowed and left the room before she had the chance to say, "Dismissed." He thought they'd both have trouble saying anything more -- and he'd have been right.

=/\=

There weren't quite as many of the crew lining the corridors as were there when Neelix walked to the shuttle bay for the last time, but the honor guard which lined the path Admiral Janeway traveled to get to her very advanced, specially equipped shuttle from the future was impressive enough. Icheb made sure he was there in time. He slipped in between Marla Gilmore, who was holding little Aimee, and Naomi Wildman. When the admiral passed by Icheb, a smile flickered on her lips briefly as she made eye contact with him.

She stepped through the shuttle bay doors, and in less than five minutes, she was gone.

Icheb walked Naomi to her quarters after they dropped off Marla and Aimee at theirs. Before she went through her door, Naomi asked, "What's going to happen now, Icheb?"

"First, we wait until the captain gives the order to move towards the hub again. All hell will break loose. Then we'll either be in the Alpha Quadrant; we'll be assimilated; or we'll be dead."

"Charming prospects, aren't they?" Naomi's wry expression was appropriate for an almost-teenager, but not for a five-year-old. She really was growing up fast.

"The first result is, don't you think? You'll finally get to meet your dad in person."

She sighed. "Yes, that would be good, but I'll lose my Voyager home. It's the only one I've ever known."

Icheb tilted his head. "I can't deny that. It will be painful for all of us, but don't you think we'll 'learn to adapt?'"

At this quote, so favored by Mezoti when she'd been part of the Voyager family, Naomi bit her lip, but she couldn't suppress her smile even as she sighed, "You're right, Icheb. I just hope we get the chance." She put out her arms, and he bent down to give her a big, comforting hug before she turned away and stepped into the quarters she shared with her mother.

As he walked towards the turbolift to head down to Engineering, his post for the duration, Icheb remembered the girl who was so terribly frightened of assimilation but still insisted on knowing if it was painful. Had that really happened just a year ago? Yes, not quite a year had passed since then. She'd grown so much in that short time. He had, too. When Mezoti briefly came to mind, he refused to dwell on her. This was not the time to regret her leaving Voyager. Only days ago, he'd lamented her loss. Now he was glad she would be spared this test of wills.

Two Kathryn Janeways versus the mighty Collective and its devious Queen.

It might even be a fair fight.

=/\=

When he reached Engineering, a very important personage was nowhere to be found. "Where's Lieutenant Torres?" Icheb asked Freddie.

"Haven't you heard? She's in Sickbay, having her baby."

"What? Now? Then who's at the helm?"

"Tom Paris is, of course." Freddie tittered nervously. "I see you have your priorities straight! You haven't even asked who's in charge of Engineering!"

"Lieutenant Chapman, of course. He's been second in command since we lost Lieutenant Carey," Icheb replied. Did Freddie think he didn't know that?

"Oh, yeah. Sure. You'd better check in with him. He's over there by Nicoletti."

Icheb reported to Chapman, who assigned him to a station. Then, like everyone else, he waited.

=/\=

Icheb didn't have any access to his Astrometrics screen to follow this battle, but he didn't really need it. His eyes were fastened upon the gauges and warning lights on the control board in front of him. Chapman had assigned him to monitor a section of Voyager's shields, both the standard ones and the new ablative armor plating in the same area. A set of dials had been tacked on above the upper margin of the control board, enabling him to keep a close watch on that new system, too. Icheb was aware of every blow the ship sustained from the way the entire vessel shook from each one, but the dials gave him additional information about the location and extent of any damage, as well as the shield strength percentage in the affected area. Most of the time, both shields and armor recovered strength somewhat after being struck, but the overall trend was downward. If the battle went on for too long, all of Voyager's defenses would inevitably fail; and then, as the saying went, "That's all she wrote."

From his own internal chronometer, buried inside his cortical array, as well as the one at the top of his control board, Icheb knew the battle had lasted for less than an hour. It felt like days. Every time he lost his balance as a particularly on-target shot hit the ship, Icheb held his breath until he sensed the hull in his area had not been breached. Icheb's fingers flew over his controls as he supplemented the automatic stabilizing system through his own actions. The shields and armor in his assigned area, on the port side of the ship, were holding up, but those on the starboard side were not. It was frustrating. Since he had no knowledge of the captain's strategy, he couldn't anticipate if one side was more exposed to the Borg's weapons than the other.

A line from the poem, "The Second Coming," by the twentieth century poet William Butler Yeats, kept cycling through his brain: "Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold . . ." He wished it would stop. He didn't want Voyager to fall apart. He refused to believe the rough beast, the Borg Queen, was slouching towards their ship even now. The admiral had to succeed. She had to.

Still, he kept expecting the call from the captain to come to the bridge or the shuttle bay, to ask him to lean forward and bare his neck for the hypospray that would turn him into an even more potent weapon than his parents had made of him; for the call to the final duty he could provide to save those who had been so kind to him when they rescued him from certain death many months ago. He'd enjoyed his life here, with an existence as an individual he could actually remember, unlike the time he'd spent growing up on Brunal with a mother who had produced him for the sole purpose of sending him to deliver death to the Hive and a father who may have loved him, but had helped her place Icheb in the path of the Borg for a second time. Then, the sacrifice had been averted through the actions of Captain Janeway and this crew. Now he was prepared to make it happen, if necessary, to protect all of those he had grown to love and admire.

So he waited, until he heard the announcement that the last of the marvelous transphasic torpedoes had been dispatched towards its target. Once that last one was gone, he endured what he thought would be his last moments as an individual.

And he waited, and then he waited . . . and then he heard a ripple of surprise and stunned relief flow from one engineer to another as the word came down from the bridge: "We made it! We're out! We survived! We're home. We've come home to the Alpha Quadrant!"

Icheb carefully examined his control board. The shields were all holding steady, maintaining the same level as the last readings he'd observed. The ablative armor was still intact. There was no sign of any more blows from Borg weaponry. The battle was over, and they must have won.

Wearily, he leaned against one of supportive ribs next to his station, listening to the cheers of his crewmates as they reveled in victory. They were home, but as far as Icheb was concerned, as Naomi had observed when they parted at her door, he was about to lose his.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Since Icheb was not one of the happy engineers who were rejoicing at their arrival "home," he was free to observe those few who, like himself, were more ambivalent. Escaping the clutches of the Borg was a great relief, of course, but many knew they had a trial of another sort in the offing. For some, enduring a trial might be a quite literal outcome. While Marla Gilmore had been excused from Engineering so she could stay with her little daughter during the plunge through the hub, James Morrow and Brian Sofin of the Equinox Five had been assigned to serve in Engineering. They were huddled in a corner behind the warp core, observing the party atmosphere. It wasn't surprising that their expressions were funereal at best. Of all of the returnees, the Equinox Five were the least likely to be pleased with what was to come.

Those who had been Maquis were also more subdued than Voyager's original Starfleet crew. The ones within Icheb's immediate field of vision seemed relieved the trip home was over, but they weren't jumping up and down in excitement, either. Icheb couldn't tell if Tabor and his long-time girlfriend Olandra Jor were embracing in celebration or consolation. After exchanging a very brief, sweet kiss, they leaned back enough to gaze deeply into each other's eyes. Icheb had to look away. He'd only seen a look this intense on a few occasions, when B'Elanna and Tom were the ones doing the hugging, the kissing, and the gazing. Icheb suspected Olandra and Tabor were experiencing a mix of happiness, relief, and apprehension. From what he recalled when he'd spent time with the couple, particularly the time they'd hiked Tabor's Bajoran Trail program on the holodeck, Icheb had a hunch they'd be able to face almost anything, as long as they were allowed to do it together.

Icheb noticed Lieutenant Chapman approaching the couple. Olandra saw the Starfleet officer almost as soon as Icheb did. When she took a step back and dropped her arms from Tabor's neck, the Bajoran engineer looked around and saw Chapman. "Sorry for the unseemly public display of affection, Lieutenant," he apologized, pulling her to one side, although he didn't seem that sorry.

"No apology necessary under these circumstances," Chapman assured them, smiling broadly. "If I was as close to anyone as the two of you are, I'd be hugging and kissing her myself!" He cleared his throat and added, with great sincerity, "I want you to know that everyone in the Engineering Division will fight for our crewmates who were in the Maquis. We've already discussed this. We want you to get the same accolades and rewards the rest of us may receive from Starfleet. We know we couldn't have made it all the way home without you."

As Chapman shook hands warmly with Tabor and Jor, Icheb glanced behind the warp core to see if anyone was saying anything like it to Sofin and Morrow, but neither one was within Icheb's visual range. As he bent to his right, thinking they'd simply stepped behind the glowing blue column of the core, his view was obstructed by Lieutenant Chapman's head as the lieutenant drew near to him. "Cadet, I want to thank you for all your services to Engineering during this engagement. I'll be letting the captain, Lieutenant Torres, and Seven know of your exemplary work. I'll bet those Academy instructors won't know what hit them when you land in their classrooms! You could probably give some of them lessons!"

"Thank you, sir," Icheb replied, a little embarrassed by the lieutenant's effusive praise. "Are there any diagnostics you want me to run while I'm still here? I can start by checking out the shield and armor area I was monitoring at my station . . . "

Chapman chuckled. "No, Cadet. Thanks for the offer, but that can wait. I was contacted by Seven a few minutes ago. She asked that I send you up to Sickbay . . ."

"She wasn't injured, was she?" Icheb interrupted, suddenly feeling extremely uneasy because he knew so little about what had happened to those on the bridge during what must have been a wild ride through the hub.

"No, nothing like that. I think Seven wants you with her when she meets the newest member of the crew."

"Has Lieutenant Torres had her baby?"

"I understand she has. Go on up there and meet her. And if we do need you to help out with anything down here, don't worry, I'll know where to find you. Dismissed."

Icheb didn't know where the impulse came from, but he took Lieutenant Chapman's right hand and shook it enthusiastically. A grinning Lieutenant Chapman put his other hand over Icheb's to return the gesture before saying, "Now, scoot!"

=/\=

As Icheb exited the turbolift and approached Sickbay, he encountered several crewmates from other departments who were celebrating in the corridors. The ship must have come through the fight fairly well. If not, everyone would be off repairing damage to critical systems to enable Voyager to travel on to Earth. He wondered how far they needed to go before reaching their ultimate destination. As Seven had pointed out when they'd first discovered the wormholes, the Alpha Quadrant was very large. If they were only at the edge of what was considered the Alpha Quadrant's boundaries, their journey still might take months. What if they'd exited near the borders of the Romulan Empire? Or inside territory claimed by one of several other races which weren't friendly with the Federation? Their unexpected emergence into what others claimed was their space could still trigger another battle or two, unless Voyager had exited closer to Earth.

He'd gotten that far in his ruminations when the Sickbay doors swished open. Several members of the crew were sitting on biobeds or being examined by the EMH and his secondary field medic staff, since Mr. Paris was obviously otherwise occupied. The Doctor looked up from his examination of Ensign Mulcahy's arm to see who had entered and began to recite, as if by rote, "If you're a walking wounded casualty and need triage, see Ensign Wildman or Crewman Lessing. If you're volunteering your services to assist with triage, please pick up a medical tricorder and stand near Mr. Lessing. If you're here to exult over our victory over the Borg, please take your celebrations outside in the corridor. I'm too busy here for a party atmosphere."

"Actually, I was told Seven asked me to come here to meet B'Elanna and Tom's baby."

The Doctor sniffed and inclined his head to the rear of the Sickbay. "All visitors to the rear. And make it brief. Lieutenant Torres needs her rest -- not that she's likely to get much in here, thanks to all the clamor."

When Icheb came near the biobed occupied by B'Elanna, he stopped and viewed the tableau before him. The new mother was gazing at her husband with a sweet grin on her lips. Tom was standing next to where B'Elanna was lying, holding their daughter, and gazing even more raptly at the little one's face than Tabor had been looking at his girlfriend. If Tom had been at the helm during the birth, as Freddie had indicated, this might be the first time the new father beheld his daughter. Icheb felt like an interloper. When he took a step backward, however, he drew the chief engineer's attention. "Tom, we have a visitor."

Tom's head swiveled towards Icheb and said dreamily, "Come meet our little girl."

Tom held the baby so Icheb could see her better. She looked a lot like her mother, although her forehead ridges were softer than B'Elanna's. Icheb didn't know whether this was because she was only a quarter Klingon, or if all newborn Klingons initially had softer features which matured into ones typical of the race over time. The baby was awake and looked in his direction. Icheb got the feeling that, as young as she was, she was able to see him fairly well. From his social relationship training, Icheb knew the most appropriate thing to say. Fortunately, it was the absolute truth: "She's beautiful."

"Yes, yes, she is," Tom said proudly, while B'Elanna chuckled softly.

Icheb turned to B'Elanna, saying, a bit slyly, "I think you have competition for the affections of your husband, Lieutenant Torres."

She laughed out loud at his comment. "Oh, I'm prepared for that. I don't mind sharing him with our daughter. He had to suffer through all those nights of false labor pains, too. Not that he had it as bad as I did."

Tom grinned as he made eye contact with his wife for a few seconds before gazing back down on their baby again. "It was worth it, wasn't it?"

"Yes. It was," she replied softly.

Icheb was going to step away then to allow the family their private time, but the doors to Sickbay slid open behind him. He turned around to see Seven walk through, followed closely by Commander Chakotay. When the Doctor began his spiel, he'd only gotten to, "If you're a walking wounded casualty . . ." before the commander waved him to silence.

Icheb began to move aside to permit the couple to approach the family group, but Seven put her hand on Icheb's shoulder and held him in place.

Chakotay announced, "We can't stay long, but we did want to meet the newest member of our crew before things got crazier on the bridge than they already are."

"What designation have you decided upon giving your daughter?" Seven asked politely.

Icheb couldn't resist. "Not Octavia, I suppose?"

Tom laughed. "No, not this time. We'll keep it in mind for the future. We'd like you all to meet Miral Torres Paris. Miral was B'Elanna's mother's name."

Since he'd found out that the maternal grandmother had died a couple of years ago, at the time B'Elanna herself had a near death experience, Icheb knew this wasn't something to joke about. He nodded slightly.

"Are you going to hyphenate her last name?" Chakotay inquired.

B'Elanna answered, "No. Torres will be her middle name. It's simpler that way. I don't think anyone will forget she's my daughter as time goes on. Not if she takes after me."

"And I'm going to love every minute of it," Tom declared. "So who's at the helm now, since you're here, Commander?"

"Since we're so close to Earth, I decided Jenkins could handle it."

"So close? How close are we?" Icheb asked.

"About a light year," the commander replied.

Icheb was too stunned to say anything more, but Seven squeezed his shoulder, whether to comfort him or herself, he couldn't tell. They'd arrived right on the doorstep of the central planet of the Federation! He felt a touch of panic as he realized he would be losing his home even sooner than he'd thought possible.

Whether their discussion would have continued any longer, Icheb didn't know. Their visit was cut short by the EMH at his most imperious. "Visiting hours for the crew are over, if you please. Let the family continue their bonding experience without further outside interference!"

They all turned to leave as ordered. Icheb walked with Seven out into the corridor, where several crew members were still celebrating. He was glad to see the commander had stepped away from them and had approached Crewman Lessing instead. Icheb didn't hear the verbal exchange between the two, but just before the doors to Sickbay closed to obscure his view, Icheb saw the commander clap his hand on Noah's shoulder. The Sciences officer smiled weakly in return. Maquis commander to Equinox Five crewman, both with uncertain futures, took a moment to comfort each other.

=/\=

Icheb finally learned what had happened in the transwarp hub later that night from Naomi, when he arrived in the mess hall and saw her sitting all by herself in the corner. Once Icheb had set his tray down on the table and taken the seat next to her, she informed him, "Mom is still working in Sickbay with the Doctor. We were lucky.  She told me there were only a few minor injuries to the crew, but the Doctor asked her to stay a little longer to keep a close eye on a couple of patients. She thinks he wanted to contact Starfleet Medical about his status."

"I was in Sickbay for a short time today. I didn't notice anyone lying down while the medics worked on them. I'm glad the injuries weren't serious. While I was there, I met Tom and B'Elanna's baby. Have you seen her yet?"

Naomi smiled. "I did. She's really cute. I went there to ask Mom if I should wait for her to be free before coming to the mess hall for dinner. Tom called me over to introduce me. He's a very proud dad." Icheb nodded agreement, but before he could say anything else, his companion sighed. "I hope my father will be just as proud as that when he meets me for the first time."

"I'm sure he will be, Naomi. He's been waiting years to meet you. That's even longer than B'Elanna was pregnant."

She giggled nervously. "My mom was pregnant with me for over a year. But you're right. He's known about me for three and a half years. I bet he'll be shocked when he finds out we're actually here so soon."

Icheb ate a few more forkfuls of his food before asking the question he hoped his friend could answer. "Naomi, since you always seem to know all the gossip, how did we get so close to Earth? I was too busy at my post in Engineering to know how everything went. And then I was called back to work on repairs to the shields until now.

"Well, you know Admiral Janeway's ship from the future was equipped with a form of stealth shielding that wasn't compatible with Voyager's systems, right? She used it when she went through the hub to accomplish her part of the mission. I don't know what her mission was, exactly. A diversion, maybe?" Naomi looked expectantly at Icheb, practically begging him to tell her anything he knew. Why she suspected he had information she didn't, he had no idea, but he wasn't about to tell her what he did know.

After Icheb shrugged his shoulders, she continued, "Well, I'm sure you knew about all the Borg vessels firing on us. You must have felt that in Engineering." He nodded his head as he chewed a bite of his casserole. "The transphasic torpedoes worked just as well as they did the first time we used them on the Borg. We were able to fly inside the hub. Seven had identified the best conduits to use to get closest to Earth, but it wasn't easy getting to one. There was a lot of fighting, and Voyager began to run out of the torpedoes. Eventually, we only had one left."

"I was at my duty station when Lieutenant Chapman announced the last one had been launched. Something must have happened before that, though, because the ship wasn't hit by weapons fire for a little while before that last one was sent off."

"Oh, that's when we were inside the Borg sphere."

Icheb stared at her in shock. "We were inside a Borg vessel?"

"Yup. Everything was timed just right. When the Borg ship came out into normal space, Tuvok fired the last torpedo from inside and blew the sphere open. A fleet of Starfleet ships were waiting there, ready to defend Earth from the Borg, but they didn't need to do anything. Voyager was the only intact ship they faced. And you know what the captain said to Admiral Paris, when we were hailed by Starfleet Command? She said, 'Sorry to surprise you. Next time, we'll call ahead.'" Despite the chatty, casual way she described this to Icheb, Naomi's laughter had a slightly hysterical edge. She wasn't as blasé about all this as she was letting on to Icheb.

"Well, I hope there never is a 'next time,' don't you?" Icheb said, smiling in a way he hoped was encouraging.

"Oh, I hope not, too." Naomi sighed then. "I was hoping someone would say the admiral's little ship came out of the hub before ours, but no one's said anything about her. If we hadn't been in the corridor when she walked to the shuttle bay to get to her ship, I wouldn't have known she'd even left. The official visual logs don't even show she was ever on the ship at all. Some of the logs are damaged in spots. I haven't seen her in any of the ones I've looked at so far. "

"Naomi, you haven't been hacking into the official logs, have you?"

"Sure. Mezoti showed me how to do it. How else do you think I found out about being inside the sphere and all? You know my mom wouldn't have told me about that."

=/\=

The captain didn't make an official announcement. That would have appeared in the official logs, and despite ample evidence otherwise, beginning with Captain Kirk's Enterprise and continuing to the present day, time travel was supposed to be impractical. Four years before, Voyager itself had traveled back to the twentieth century and obtained 29^th century technology, the Doctor's mobile emitter, irrefutable evidence that it was feasible. But, in the form of "scuttlebutt" passed by word of mouth to every person who resided on Voyager (with the exception of Aimee Gilmore and Miral Paris, who were too young to let anything slip), everyone was ordered not to say anything at all about Admiral Janeway's sojourn on Voyager. The captain would report everything she felt necessary to reveal during her debriefings with "the brass." Everyone else was to say absolutely nothing. If pressed, the staff could say the information was classified, and the interrogator was to go to the captain for an explanation.

They'd burst out of the hub so close to Earth, they could have reached orbit in hours. The captain reduced their speed to less than a quarter impulse, to give everyone a couple of days to absorb all that had occurred. Several visitors came to the ship, however. Lieutenant Reginald Barclay and a small contingent of Starfleet staff arrived the morning after the arrival to begin debriefing the crew. Icheb noticed they seemed to be starting with Voyager's assigned Starfleet personnel. Admiral Paris accompanied them, but he wasn't taking any part in the debriefings. He was on a much more personal mission.

The admiral came to welcome his son and his family back home. Although the only ones who knew for certain what Tom and his father said to each other were those in the Paris-Torres family quarters at the time, when Icheb passed Tom in the corridor later that day, the helmsman's smile was so radiant, Icheb was certain it had been a very happy reunion.

Lieutenant Barclay came to Astrometrics while Icheb was on duty there, bouncing in on his first "real life" tour of Voyager. This "Reg" knew exactly who Icheb was. They spent over a half hour discussing the neutrino emissions detector, Icheb's invention. Reg knew the device had led Voyager to the place where all of the wormholes were located, but he didn't seem to know about the transwarp hub yet. If he did, he kept it to himself. Icheb thought the main reason for this visit, other than the obvious one (to walk through the corridors of the ship he'd dreamed about for years) was to see if Icheb would let anything slip about the journey home, but Icheb had been Borg. He knew how to keep his own counsel, especially since specific orders to do so had been transmitted to him from the captain.

That evening, when Icheb went to the quarters he shared with Ensign Bristow, he found a message from Lieutenant Torres on the computer console. She'd spoken to Chapman and thanked him for his work in Engineering. "He has nothing but praise for you, 'Cadet Icheb.' We're asking Captain Janeway to confer a special commendation to you for your 'valuable contributions to Voyager's successful return to the Alpha Quadrant.'" Icheb noted she didn't give any further specifics in writing. She closed her message by inviting him to come by and visit the Paris-Torres quarters "any time."

This message was very gratifying (although Icheb decided that if he was going to visit the family in their quarters, he would take "any time" to mean "any time, after calling ahead first"). Icheb thought he might like to visit the family and was about to contact them when a new question struck him. Perhaps the Doctor could answer this one better than the new parents could. A visit to Sickbay was indicated.

=/\=

When Icheb entered Sickbay, the large room was silent and empty until the EMH shimmered into existence. "Please state the nature of . . . oh, Icheb. It's you. You're not suffering from a medical problem, are you?" Icheb thought it was sad that the Doctor actually sounded a little eager when he asked this, as if he needed something to do.

"No, Doctor. I'm fine. I just had a question for you. Where was Miral born? Is she like Aimee, Naomi, and me? Was she born in the Delta Quadrant? Or was she born in the Alpha Quadrant?"

"That's a very good question, Icheb. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to answer it. The only entry necessary for the birth certification is that she was 'born on USS Voyager.' Since her parents are both citizens of the Federation, she is also."

"Don't Tom and B'Elanna want to know?"

"They were much more interested in the fact that she was a beautiful and healthy little girl. Her place of birth is an academic question. If someone in the Federation wants to know, they'll need to peruse the ship's logs and take note of the time Voyager crossed the boundary between the quadrants. That is, if they can even determine where that is. Considering our route back to this quadrant was rather unconventional, the 'border' may be impossible to identify. It's not likely anyone really needs to know. Miral is a citizen of the Federation no matter where the ship was located when she was born."

"I guess that's true."

"Do you want more Delta Quadrant-born cohorts, Icheb?"

Icheb considered the question seriously. Did it really matter that much to him? Maybe it did, even if it didn't matter to Miral. "Perhaps I'm curious because I'm unsure of my own status."

"I'm sure you're considered a citizen, too."

"I don't think so --- not until Seven adopts me. When she does, I guess I'll be a citizen because she is, but I'm not sure if I will be until then."

"I never considered that there would be any question about your situation, Icheb. Of course, Marla Gilmore is adopting Aimee, and Naomi is also the child of two Federation citizens. There will be no uncertainty with either of them. It isn't a very comfortable feeling to be uncertain of your future, is it?"

It suddenly occurred to Icheb that the Doctor also faced uncertainty because of Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant. The EMH could face new challenges, too. "Are you worried about your status as a citizen, too, Doctor?"

The EMH snorted, "Citizen! I haven't been granted the privilege of personhood as of yet! All the  hearing concerning my kerfuffle with Broht established was that I was an 'artist' and could control my own works. Until a court of law unequivocally declares sentient photonics as people, I need to worry about my very existence as an independent being."

"Surely not! You have your mobile emitter. You aren't tied to Voyager's Sickbay, like you were when you were first activated."

"A piece of technology. That's all I was to the Dinaali and the Dralian trader, Gar. I was a commodity, to be bought and sold."

"I know it's ancient history now, Doctor, but people were also treated as commodities to be bought and sold centuries ago," Icheb gently reminded him.

The Doctor, who had been circling his Sickbay as he expounded upon his fate, stopped and stared at Icheb. In a more moderate tone of vocal subroutine he said, "You're quite right, Icheb. I hadn't considered that. I hope it doesn't take a war for photonics to achieve permanent status as beings worthy of existence -- as we saw in the Delta Quadrant, and which we also know from Alpha Quadrant history. It will take official recognition by the passage of laws or court determinations before I will rest easy about my future."

"You're just the photonic being qualified to push for that," Icheb stated with a smile.

"Thank you for your confidence in me. You may be assured I'm going to insist upon my right to do so once we arrive on Earth." The EMH smiled back at Icheb. "I wouldn't worry about your status, Icheb. I have no doubt Captain Janeway will insist upon citizenship for you, even before Seven finishes your adoption. You've earned a place in the Federation by your actions. ALL your actions, even those we aren't supposed to talk about."

The Doctor knew about Admiral Janeway's use of the serum he'd developed, of course, since it had been done under the EMH's supervision. Nodding his head to acknowledge he'd caught the Doctor's hidden meaning, he replied, "Thank you for this very interesting discussion, Doctor. I think it's time for me go. With everything that's been going on, I'm feeling really tired. I think I'll go to my quarters and crawl into my bunk to sleep. Oh, and thanks for suggesting that, Doctor. I find I actually prefer resting in a bed now."

"Excellent, Icheb. If we're done here, perhaps I'll see if any holodeck time is available this evening. Mr. Paris isn't free, of course, but I believe Ensign Wildman or Crewman Lessing may be willing to cover Sickbay for a few hours."

Thinking that Noah would probably be willing to do almost anything to divert him from mulling over his own uncertain future, Icheb said good-bye to the EMH.

As he walked back to his quarters, Icheb thought about his newly-discovered preferred manner of sleeping. I'm not a Borg anymore. I wonder how many of them are left?

That was something no one knew yet.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

By the time Captain Janeway requested the presence of all off-duty personnel at a general staff meeting on Holodeck One, Icheb had resigned himself to the imminent end of his life on Voyager. When he entered the holodeck, he saw Tom's recreation of Chicago's Old Palace Theatre was the program running. It was a logical one to use, since it required little in the way of adjustments to turn it into an auditorium capable of seating the entire crew. Those who were on duty would listen to the captain's remarks over the ship's comm system. Harry Kim was in command of the bridge while the meeting took place. It was unusual for an ensign to serve in that capacity, but then, Voyager was an unusual ship. He'd been in command for many shifts during the past few years. No one anticipated Harry's frustration over the lack of a promotion to last much longer. Everyone expected that he would be named a junior grade lieutenant any day now. Icheb had even heard a betting pool was running for those who believed he'd jump a grade to full lieutenant right away. Not many full lieutenants had as much experience in the command chair as Ensign Harry Kim did.

Icheb took a seat towards the back of the theatre, between Seven and B'Elanna. Tom, cradling little Miral in his arms, sat to B'Elanna's right. Chakotay was standing next to the captain at the front of the auditorium. She was clutching a lecturer's podium as if she needed its support while she addressed her crew. Perhaps she did. Much of what she was likely to share would upset many in her audience.

When the last of the those expected to attend had trickled in and taken their seats, the captain began, "Welcome, all, to the Alpha Quadrant." She had to wait several seconds for cheering to die down from the Starfleet contingent present. The sound was more subdued than Icheb expected. Then he noticed that all of the Equinox and Val Jean crew members were here in the auditorium. Commander Chakotay must have had to do a considerable amount of tweaking to his duty roster for everyone at a duty station to be one of the Starfleet regulars. Icheb hadn't really thought about why his scheduled shift in Astrometrics had been delayed. Now he understood, and he became a little uneasy. When he saw the Doctor sitting in the first row, his nervousness increased. The EMH had also been summoned to attend. The captain and commander must have information to impart directly to those who would be most affected by what they had to say.

When the room quieted, the captain continued, "I'm sure you've all noticed we've been traveling far more slowly than necessary to reach Earth. While I would have advised this in any case, since our return has shocked us almost as much as it has our family and friends, the Admiralty said they wanted time to arrange a proper celebration for our homecoming. Tom, upon my signal, you have permission from the San Francisco City Council and Starfleet Command to swoop Voyager over the Golden Gate Bridge. But you'll have to watch out so you don't fly into any of the fireworks displays they're sending up during the flight. We don't want Voyager shot down by anything as primitive as a sky rocket." Everyone laughed and hooted good naturedly at Tom, who stood up and bowed, with Miral still nestled in his arms. Icheb noted this news was received well by everyone present.

After the laughter died down, she continued, "The fireworks displays will be visible on screens throughout the ship. B'Elanna, I'm granting permission for you to be seated at the Engineering station on the bridge with Miral on your lap. I wouldn't want little Miral to miss this, even though she's unlikely to remember it. Right after you fly over the bridge, Tom, you'll take Voyager back up into the skies and assume Earth orbit.

"I understand the Enterprise has arrived and is in orbit. Captain Picard has offered to provide substitutes from his crew to man all duty stations whenever necessary for the next few days, to permit all of us to transport down for the planned festivities. A grand parade and a luncheon will be held in our honor. After the luncheon, we'll return to the ship right away and will remain on Voyager while Starfleet personnel continue debriefing us. They'll keep at it until they're satisfied the job is done. Since we've spent seven years traveling through previously unknown space, they have many events and discoveries to review. Please be patient with them. Answer all their questions in full. Be thankful you aren't the ones who'll have to analyze all of that data!"

While her audience chuckled at the image of their inquisitors having to absorb seven years' worth of the strange new worlds, cultures, interstellar phenomenon, and the odd gaseous anomaly they'd encountered in the Delta Quadrant, the captain stepped back and exchanged a sober look with Commander Chakotay. Icheb thought she needed to take a moment to collect herself. As the silence from the command team became a little prolonged, he could hear the rustling of the audience as they moved restlessly in their seats. No one missed their leaders change of mood. Captain  Janeway surveyed the audience, as if she wished to imprint the image of each person's face into her memory. There must be a reason those present were chosen to receive this information directly from the captain and commander. Icheb's apprehension grew.

After the commander spoke for the first time, saying simply, "Everyone, settle down, now. We're almost there," he stepped aside to allow the captain to step up to the podium again. The break must have helped, for this time, she spoke in the commanding tone of voice she usually used.

"Each member of our crew will be given specific instructions on what to expect after his or her debriefing has been completed. Please note, you must be prepared to be debriefed more than once. Some of us will have multiple interviews, with personnel from different areas of expertise asking the questions. I don't need to tell you these inquiries may dredge up some very unhappy memories. There's no help for it; we must cooperate with the process. Our journey through the Delta Quadrant was a unique adventure. Although I've been sending out official logs ever since regular contact was initiated with Starfleet Command via Pathfinder, no log entry can ever provide all the details the Admiralty believes it needs to know. Answer their questions as accurately and fully as you can. No subject is off limits in these debriefing sessions -- time travel included! I expect to be the one bombarded with most of those inquiries, but they may wish to hear from some of you about your experiences with temporal matters as well.

"Once you've been told you're allowed to leave the ship to visit with your friends and families, however, others will have questions -- especially reporters. Don't feel compelled to answer any question put to you which you feel is impertinent or obtrusive, especially regarding one subject about which you must remain silent. If any questions about the Equinox are asked by anyone other than Starfleet staff during a debriefing, your only answer must be, 'I have no information to share about that.' All information about the Equinox has been classified as top secret. It is not to be disclosed to anyone without prior authorization from Starfleet Command. I hope I've made myself clear."

The murmuring voices of the crew, combined with their nodding heads, reassured Icheb. He noticed all five of the crew from the Equinox were sitting together in the same row. They obviously had expected this subject to come up and wanted the support of the others whenever the captain might address the matter which affected them the most.

The captain sighed before making closing remarks. "As I look at you all, while I am mindful of those who were forced to remain at their duty stations during this meeting, I also recall many faces I wish I could see, or know are at their posts, but who are not and never will be again. I wish everyone who landed at the Caretaker's doorstep had survived and made it back with us. We lost too many of our fellow crew members along the way. They gave their lives so we could be here now, approaching Earth. None of us will ever forget them. I know I never shall.

"If someone asks you a question you feel disinclined to answer, change the subject. Feel free to share a less fraught anecdote which one of those who cannot speak for themselves might have offered instead. There are times to sidestep the inquiries of the merely curious. I'm sure those we lost wouldn't mind helping you out in this manner. We need to remind the entire Federation, as well as ourselves, how much we honor our lost comrades for their service. We will always remember them. Everyone else should, too."

The entire auditorium erupted in applause. When a few stood up, still clapping, others followed, until the standing ovation had spread to all but one person. That was Tom. He was sitting with his head down over Miral, who'd been awakened by the noise and was adding her own wailing voice to the accolades from the crew. B'Elanna bent down and took her baby from her husband's arms, freeing him to stand and applaud with everyone else. Icheb noticed a tear running down the helmsman's cheek. He hoped he'd remember to ask Tom why he'd reacted that way later, when they might get the chance to go over, in private, everything the captain and commander had said.

Icheb thought the meeting would end at that point, but after a minute or so, the captain waved her hands downward, signaling everyone to take a seat, and ceded the podium to Chakotay.

"I don't think any of you envy me for having to follow that speech of our captain's," he said, initiating another brief spate of applause before he continued his own remarks. "Everything has changed. Thanks to Pathfinder, and to our contacts with the Alpha Quadrant during our Project Watson moments with family and friends during the past several months, we know how profoundly the Dominion War altered everything we thought we knew about what most of us consider our 'home' area of space. Some of us, like Seven of Nine, Icheb, and Naomi, have always considered the Delta Quadrant 'home.' Their lives will undergo an even more radical change now that we've reached our goal. I hope everyone helps them with the difficult transitions they will need to make to life in this quadrant.

"While we will inevitably go our separate ways once all of the debriefings are done and new assignments are given out, we should remember one thing. The crucible of our experiences forged a Voyager family. We'll enjoy reunions in the future, I've no doubt; but before we get to that happy time when we can meet without worrying about what will come next, some of us will have to undergo trials of a different sort than those we endured during our travels. I've had the chance to speak with many of you over the past few days. The captain and I have been given more information about how the Admiralty expects to proceed with those of us who served on Equinox and those who were Maquis. We wish to share what we've been told with the ones who will be most affected. So, the captain has given me the honor of calling an end to this meeting. While Voyager's regular Starfleet crew members are now dismissed, we ask the rest of you to remain so we can advise you of what we've learned."

From the worried comments from some of the Starfleet crew in reaction to this news, Icheb thought many had not considered how differently their crewmates might be treated from the way they would be. Or, perhaps they'd been fully aware, but they'd put it out of their minds in the joy of reaching the end of the journey. Many were shaking hands and hugging their friends who were to stay at the meeting. Freddie Bristow sought out Icheb and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Roomie," he said. "You have nothing to worry about."

When the Starfleet crew had finally sifted out, taking Naomi with them since, for the purposes of this meeting, she was considered to be Starfleet, Commander Chakotay said, "All Val Jean crew members, please join me in the back of the room. We'll meet there. Our Equinox crew members, along with Thomas Paris, Seven of Nine, Icheb, and the Doctor -- please move up front. The captain wishes to speak with you."

After the small group had reassembled next to the podium, with the captain positioned in the center of them, she began, "I don't need to tell you that all of you are special cases. We know the Starfleet crew will be free to leave Voyager fairly soon, once their debriefings are finished. All of you, along with the former Maquis, won't be allowed to leave the ship until the authorities have decided exactly what's going to happen to you. Tom, did your father go over your situation with you during his visit?"

"He told me what I already knew. Before anything else is decided about my future, I'll have my Out-Mate Review -- the one I was supposed to have six years ago. You promised to speak up for me when you 'recruited' me for this 'short trip' into the Badlands, if you recall, Captain." When everyone laughed, it relieved a little of the tension, Icheb thought. A little, but not a lot.

"And I will do just that, Mr. Paris. I'll have lots more to tell them than I would have six years ago, I can tell you that."

"Some of it good, I hope," Tom said, a smile on his face, and everyone tittered again. His record on Voyager did have a few blots, but overall he'd done so well, no one doubted his prison days were over. His days as a provisional Starfleet officer, however, were very much in doubt. Icheb wondered if Tom really wanted to stay in the service after everything that had happened. He suspected he would, but only if B'Elanna was allowed to remain.

"Once your review is over, I suspect you'll be free to leave the ship. I don't know how long Commander Chakotay's former crew will have to wait until they're free to go, though."

"Understood, Captain. As long as B'Elanna is here, I will be, too. I refuse to be separated from my family until all of us are free to go wherever we wish."

She slowly nodded her head, a rueful smile on her face. Obviously, that was the response she'd expected from her "personal reclamation project." Turning to Seven and Icheb, the captain said, "Icheb, I understand several professors from the Academy are eager to interview you as soon as your Starfleet Command debriefings have been completed. Some may not want to wait even that long. Tuvok has recommended you receive credit for everything you've accomplished since your arrival on Voyager, not just for the course work you've completed since you were officially accepted by the Academy. He's gone on record that you've achieved second-year level, which would make you a member of the Class of 2380. The professors will decide if this is appropriate. Once they've decided where to place you, you'll receive a class schedule and a room on campus."

Seven regarded Icheb warmly, with her mouth pursed in the way he had learned was her way of wordlessly expressing pride in him. He was happy with all that the captain had related, but he still had a few important questions he needed answered. "Captain, have you heard anything about my status in the Federation?"

The captain glanced over at Seven, who moved her head ever so slightly, as if to give the captain permission to speak. That struck Icheb as strange until he heard what the captain had to convey. "I was going to let Seven inform you of that, Icheb. Since you've asked me, however, I'll tell you that your interviews will include one with an official from the local Office of the Courts. Since you will reside in San Francisco for the immediate future, that will be where your adoption hearing is to be held. I understand that's expected to take place within the next few weeks. Starfleet Command has requested your case be expedited, and I see no reason why it shouldn't be. Marla, that goes for Aimee's hearing as well. I understand yours actually will take place within the next few days, since the hearing had been scheduled to occur sometime this week even before our sudden return to this quadrant. The only reason Icheb's will take a little longer is that Icheb must be asked to express his opinion about whether or not he wishes to be adopted by Seven before his hearing can take place."

"Of course I want her to adopt me!" Icheb declared.

Everyone laughed as Seven placed her arm around his shoulders and gave him the slightest of hugs. The captain grinned and said, "We know that, of course. The courts insist on knowing it, too. They're just following their protocols. And Seven, Marla, since both of you are citizens, I've also been assured that Federation citizenship will also be conferred officially on Icheb and Aimee as soon as the adoptions are finalized."

"That's a relief," Marla said, giving her daughter a soft kiss on the brow. "Aimee will have a family to care for her, no matter what happens to me. My sister will be her substitute guardian."

The captain's smile faded a little, and she sighed deeply before saying, "That brings me to you, and to your former crewmates." The captain looked from Marla, to Noah, and then to Jim, Brian, and Angelo. "I haven't been given any information at all about what to expect for the five of you, other than the fact that all information about what happened on Equinox has been classified and is not to be discussed with anyone other than official representatives from Starfleet Command. I don't think I need to remind you that some unscrupulous reporters misrepresent themselves in attempts to gain a 'scoop.' If anyone should question you outside of debriefing sessions, don't answer them unless you've seen that person's credentials and are certain they're genuine. To be safe, I would refuse to answer anyone without the presence of Chakotay, or me, or your assigned legal counselor. Protecting you from difficulties on that score is a major reason the crew is required to remain on board Voyager until such time as they're given specific permission to leave. We may be asked to testify on your behalf. I know for a fact that several of your crewmates who would be allowed to leave Voyager fairly quickly have requested the right to remain on board so they'll be available to do this for you, as well as for our Maquis crew."

"Captain, does this have anything to do with what my sister told me about the efforts of the families of Captain Ransom and Lieutenant Burke for Starfleet to give commendations to them for their 'heroism' in the Delta Quadrant?"

The captain looked towards the ceiling, as if asking for the strength to answer Marla's query. "I expect it does, although I haven't been given any official word about it." She looked at the rest of the Equinox Five in turn and saw them shaking their heads. It was obvious to Icheb they'd all heard this rumor, either from their own family contacts or from Marla reporting what her sister had told her. "If they ask me for a recommendation . . . I couldn't . . ." The captain grimaced before continuing, "Seriously, for them to receive such an honor would be ludicrous. However, I will if it means all of you will be given commendations as well. At the very least, you deserve pardons for the actions you took under their direction. To free you from punishment, I'd swallow my scruples. Unfortunately, I doubt those in power will agree to my precondition. The Admiralty will do what they will do when it comes to your former commanding officers. Frankly, they'll be after me for more than a few messy decisions I made myself when we were all alone out there, but I do want you to know I'll support you to my last breath -- if they let me."

Icheb exhaled suddenly. Until then, he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath for the last part of this speech. He'd never heard the captain speak of what had happened during the encounter with the other "lost in space" Starfleet ship before, and he didn't miss the way Captain Janeway maintained eye contact with Noah Lessing while she talked about the Admiralty questioning her actions. Having reviewed the logs, Icheb realized one of her "messy decisions" had been the way she'd threatened Noah with death if he didn't provide answers to her questions after he was captured from an Equinox away team. She'd removed Commander Chakotay from his duties when he tried to stop her from carrying out her threat, too. Icheb heard she'd later admitted it wasn't her "finest hour."

It had never before occurred to Icheb that Captain Janeway might be in as precarious a situation as everyone else in this room. Her actions would be judged by those who had never been in as extreme a situation she'd been -- or that Rudy Ransom had been, either. It was a sobering revelation.

No one else uttered a word after the captain's declaration until she herself turned towards the Doctor, saying briskly, "I hope it goes without saying that I will be fighting tooth and nail for you to receive the status of a 'person' and citizen of the Federation, Doctor. Personally, I don't care if that status is conferred on any other photonic being at this point, although I'm certain there are others who would qualify. I'm confidant you'll do the fighting for all of them if necessary. Admiral Paris told me Doctor Zimmerman has already contacted the Admiralty about when you'll be free to visit him on Jupiter Station. I believe Starfleet Medical has also requested you come there for an extensive period to 'download' all you've learned in the Delta Quadrant. The fact you were able to heal your creator from an exotic medical condition they'd considered incurable has not escaped their notice. We'll let them hammer out an agreement, but I want you to relax. I assure you, you're not going to be decompiled or sent to any garbage handling facility. Not on my watch."

"I'm gratified to hear that, Captain," the Doctor replied. "Although I may wish to visit some of those facilities to assess conditions there. I'm sure they're appalling, and my brothers will need my support in their own fight for recognition."

"I'm sure you will, Doctor -- eventually. One thing, though. Please be careful how you communicate your experiences on Voyager to those who aren't already in the know."

After the round of laughter died down, the Doctor said, "Any future holodeck programs will look nothing at all like the original version of 'Photons, Be Free.'" The EMH managed to look apologetic at the same time he was preening at the captain's support of his program. Icheb didn't understand how the Doctor could convey both at the same time. Apparently Icheb's ability to recognize conflicting emotions still needed some work.

The captain closed their meeting-within-a-meeting with, "Like the commander said, we're family. We're all in this together, people. Remember that. I know I will."

Icheb was sure he would, also.

=/\=

Stardate 54993.2   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

Until today, I hadn't noticed I hadn't posted anything in my personal log recently. So much has been going on to distract me. Although I've had much to consider since our arrival in the Alpha Quadrant, I haven't been able to organize my thoughts well enough to record them here up to now. I'll try to do better from now on.

We've had our fly-by over the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco; we paraded through the city with confetti and streamers raining down upon our heads; and our "Welcome Home, Voyager!" luncheon is over. Several Federation and Starfleet officers who spoke at the luncheon advised us to be prepared for many more "welcoming" events. I hope they mean to include ALL the crew when they hold them.

I expected to view the fly-by and fireworks on the screen in Astrometrics, but Naomi invited me to watch them through the mess hall windows with her and her mother. Seven thought I'd enjoy it more if I were with friends instead of standing alone in Astrometrics, since Seven would be at her bridge station that evening. Several news organizations had contacted the captain and assured her they would transmit a view of everything from their own imaging equipment to us on Voyager, which meant we were able to see what those on the ground did, as well as the official log recording from the bridge viewscreen. I finished watching both recordings just before starting this log entry. It truly was a spectacular event. Seven was right. I'm glad my "live" view took place with friends, looking out of the mess hall windows.

Maybe it was the company. Ensign Wildman had tears in her eyes and hugged Naomi fiercely as we passed over the bridge. Tom managed to dodge all the sky rockets, just as the captain had cautioned him to do. It was exciting to see the bright colors and glittering rockets bursting above, around, and below us as we sailed by the bridge and up into the sky before assuming orbit around the Earth. As we made our first few transits over the night side of the planet, we could see other cities lighting up their skies with lighting displays as we passed over them, to let us know how happy they were we were home. That got to me. I felt moisture in my eyes, and Naomi reached out to squeeze my hand once she noticed. The fireworks which "greeted" me after I reached my home planet had been so very different. I saw them later when I hacked into the logs: Voyager, firing on the Borg sphere that was using a tractor beam to draw my Brunali transport inside their vessel; followed by the explosion of the photon torpedo which they'd transported inside my little ship in exchange for me. That saved me from enduring a second assimilation while simultaneously allowing Voyager to escape. The Borg sphere had been too damaged to pursue us.

Naomi told me afterwards that when she saw my tears, she guessed I might be thinking about something like that. I thanked her, but I think I need to speak to her again to let her know just how much her friendship means to me. We've grown very close in the past year, despite the difference in our ages. Actually, that difference has lessened quite a bit over the past several months. Ktarian children -- or half-Ktarians, like Naomi -- may develop physically in half the time human ones do, but her mental maturity level may be even greater than that of other Ktarian children of equivalent age. Naomi has lived virtually her entire life with adults. She never had day-to-day contact with any children until our Collective came on board. She's experienced many critical events just since I've known her, even before Admiral Janeway arrived on Voyager. (I'm not afraid to record that now, since the captain told us we must answer all questions in our debriefings. If we're revealing how we got through the transwarp hub, the admiral's coming from the future can't be concealed any longer.)

Anyway, since our fly-by occurred at night, our parade and the welcome home luncheon didn't take place until the next day. The parade was fun, although, since we were sitting in ground vehicles hovering just over the roadway, the spectators lining the streets and cheering us probably had a better view of it than we did. All we could see were the groups immediately before and behind us. I heard the band playing right in front of the vehicle I shared with Seven, Tom, B'Elanna, and Miral, but I couldn't hear any others. What I could hear was nice, although the music was very different from what I'd expected, based on music I'd listened to on Voyager. The group playing nearest to us was a Celtic pipe and drum band. Tom explained the swirling, almost wild sound came from the bagpipes. The music may have sounded strange, but I really liked it. B'Elanna didn't. She said some of the songs would have fit right in with Klingon operas. B'Elanna isn't a fan.

Tom had warned me the luncheon would be a "rubber chicken event." I wasn't looking forward to the meal after he said that, but it actually tasted very good. When I mentioned this to B'Elanna and Seven, they both chuckled. B'Elanna informed me that a "rubber chicken event" had more to do with the speeches we'd be forced to listen to, not the food itself. And she was right. There were a LOT of speeches. Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay were sitting next to each other on the main dais, which was located in front of all of the other tables in the hall. They were both asked to "say a few words" to thank everyone for the "warm welcome." I hoped Commander Chakotay's prominent place and chance to speak boded well, indicating that the Federation and Starfleet were welcoming the Maquis as warmly as the Starfleet crew.

I'd hoped to get a chance to do a little sightseeing after the luncheon, but we were transported back up to Voyager as soon as it was over. Captain Janeway explained we all had to stay on board until we were dismissed from our individual debriefings. I guess I can wait a little longer to visit Griffith Observatory with Tom. He promised to take me there to show me where Tom and Tuvok exchanged phaser fire with one of Henry Starling's henchmen. That occurred when Voyager went back to the twentieth century. That's where they met a woman named Rain Robinson who, Tom said, "was really smart and nice." That was before he and B'Elanna "got close," as he put it.

I've looked up a Rain Robinson who'd worked at the Griffith Observatory during the late twentieth century. After she left her job there, she took a position at NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena. She was on that staff during several of the unmanned missions to the outer planets; and she was a member of the team which planned the first manned missions to Mars. While meeting Tom may have influenced her choice of employment, Tuvok may have made an even greater impression. Tom admits she probably guessed that Tuvok's Vulcan ears weren't shaped the way they are due to a "family trait." That was Tom's explanation. Strictly speaking, that's an accurate description of why they look that way, though. Tuvok inherited those ears from his parents!

We understand Voyager will remain in orbit for a while, but rumor has it that it will go to Space Dock as soon as everyone has had their "dispositions" confirmed. All of the Borg-related and futuristic alterations which have been made to the ship are making Starfleet engineers "salivate," according to Freddie. They want to examine everything to see what can be adapted immediately and installed into Starfleet's current starships. During our trip through the Delta Quadrant, the crew encountered several other advanced propulsion systems which they've tried to perfect -- so far, without success. Although they hadn't managed to get any to work for Voyager before the admiral's temporal venture helped us return, now that we've arrived where the greatest engineering minds in the Federation are located, and with the resources available here, the problems inherent in one or more may soon be overcome. Seven has already been asked to make herself available for consultations about these technologies. I understand Harry Kim has been, too. No word on anyone asking Tom or B'Elanna about them -- yet. Once decisions about their future have been made (positive ones, I'm sure), I suspect they will be.

I'm scheduled for debriefings with Starfleet and Academy personnel later today. Seven has already been interviewed several times. While she believes she'll have to tolerate a few more before her "inquisition is over," she thinks I'll be released this afternoon once mine are finished. If she's right, I'll be free to do some sightseeing. Lieutenant Barclay has offered to bring Seven and me to the Starfleet Communications Center for a tour. He said he'll also show us around the Academy grounds if we wish. There's a gardener there that Reg would like us to meet. He said he's "a very wise man that's worth getting to know."

Aunt Irene wants Seven and me to visit her in Sweden as soon as possible. She says she's leaving her holiday decorations up for us, if we can't get there before the Christmas season is over. It's winter and very cold where she lives, but I guess we'll go. She told us the Aurora Borealis has been beautiful this year. I'm looking forward to seeing that.

=/\=

Icheb read over his personal log entry. After a short debate with  himself, he decided it was okay to leave it just as he'd dictated it. While mentioning her had made him a little nervous, there wasn't any need to hide Admiral Janeway's involvement anymore. The captain announced she was lifting the prohibition about revealing the temporal aspects of their trip home since, by now, if the Federation Temporal Police of the future didn't want any of this known, the trip through the hub and all their memories of it would have been erased. Voyager would be in the Delta Quadrant, still traveling towards "home," with no end of their journey in sight.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

As Seven had predicted, Icheb was allowed to take Shore Leave after his official debriefing interviews were over. The official ones went far deeper into the details than he'd expected, since he was only a cadet. They all wanted to know how he'd come up with the "anti-assimilation serum." Icheb had to gently correct them in this perception. "The neurolytic pathogen doesn't actually prevent the assimilation process from taking place. It halts it midway, however, and it disrupts the nervous system of the assimilating drone and spreads to others from there."

"That qualifies as anti-assimilation to me, Cadet," Captain Murtagh countered. "The result is exactly the same." Icheb decided he would not correct him further, since the one who had the neurolytic pathogen in his or her body would still die. He did correct Admiral Kempton of Starfleet Medical when he expressed the same sentiment as Captain Murtagh during his Academy placement interviews, which followed the debriefing sessions. The admiral accepted Icheb's explanation. He also suggested Icheb might wish to follow the medical sciences track at the Academy. He told Icheb he had too much potential as a physician to be "wasted" in another Science track, let alone in Command or Engineering. Icheb thanked Admiral Kempton very politely and said he would take his suggestion "under advisement."

Rear Admiral Marja Dombroski interrogated him on his knowledge of Borg engineering systems. He admitted that since he'd been expelled from the maturation chamber before his indoctrination as a Borg was complete, his knowledge was quite limited in comparison to Seven's. After he'd answered her questions for over an hour, the admiral shook her head and remarked, "If that's what you call limited knowledge, I'm looking forward to tomorrow's interview with Seven of Nine."

Professor Reagan evaluated Icheb's proficiency in Stellar Cartography, a subject which Icheb was very comfortable in discussing, thanks to his many shifts in Astrometrics. When Icheb described how he'd determined a high-resolution gravimetric sensor array might detect neutrino emission fluxes, which could lead them to wormholes and had, eventually, become the path home, Professor Reagan praised Icheb. He confided that Thomas Paris had been one of his students at the Academy, and Icheb's abilities "dwarfed" Mr. Paris's. "Didn't Tom do well in your class?" Icheb asked, a little taken aback, knowing how much Tom knew about the subject.

"To the contrary, in my class, Cadet Paris actually paid attention. He committed himself to learning the material. Many instructors complained about how he would do just enough to slide by in their subjects, but he was always -- forgive the pun -- one of my 'stellar' students. I'm complimenting you when I compare your level of knowledge to his. You have a very bright future, young man!"

Several other instructors spoke to him in a group, reviewing Commander Tuvok's records of his course work so far. While the group said they were unable to confirm they'd take his tutor's recommendation to place Icheb with the second year cadets, it "appeared to be reasonable."

By the time this last interview was over, it was almost 2100 hours. All Icheb wanted to do was ingest a quick meal and hit his bunk for a long nap, or even an early bedtime. Seven had been correct in assuming she would have another interview the next day, but she gave permission for Lieutenant Barclay to take Icheb on the tour as he'd promised, even though she couldn't go with them.

While Icheb enjoyed seeing the Project Pathfinder headquarters and touring the Academy buildings, he had to admit that meeting Boothby, the head gardener, was the highlight of his day. Boothby asked him all sorts of interesting questions that really made him think, even more than he had the previous day during some of the interviews by the Academy staff. At the end, he told Icheb, "I have a hunch we'll be speaking with each other fairly often, Cadet. Picking your brains is very entertaining. I hope you get something out of it, too!" Icheb laughed and said, politely, that he was sure he would.

When they walked away from Boothby, Reg told Icheb, "I'll b-bet you will talk to Boothby a lot, Cadet. He isn't easily impressed. I can't remember him taking that much time talking with me as he just did with you -- and on your first meeting! He likes you, Icheb. You should b-be honored."

=/\=

After his tour with Reg was over, Icheb transported back up to Voyager and found an envelope resting on his bunk, with "For Icheb, to be opened after Voyager reaches Earth orbit" written on the front in ink. He opened it and read it immediately. Once he'd finished, he realized why the letter had been handwritten: the one who wrote it hadn't wanted any evidence of what she had to say left in the ship's computer. She'd had no way to know this precaution would be unnecessary by the time Icheb received it.

54980.1 (or thereabouts--I'm still a little fuzzy about current stardates)

My dear Icheb,

If you're reading this, you must have gotten home safely through the hub. Or your Voyager took a different path than mine did all of those years ago, in my (hopefully) extinguished timeline. Too many of my people died in the sixteen years we slogged through the Delta Quadrant in our quest to reach the place you are now. Twenty-two of you lost your lives, needlessly, as far as I'm concerned. If I'd chosen to go through the hub in my own Voyager, I believe all of you would have survived.

Since I became the Sacrificial Lamb myself, I can tell you that I did it for my entire crew, but there were some "special cases."

In my timeline, Seven and Chakotay married. They had no children together. Seven's assimilation had put paid to that possibility. She didn't know this until after the marriage, when she discovered she was unable to carry a child to term. (Nanoprobes can be vicious little things. You should be glad you're a young man. They don't interfere with the production of sperm.) She'd adopted you before her marriage, however, so she assured me she was content because she already had a son. Chakotay never went through a formal process to adopt you; but as far as anyone knew, the three of you constituted a very happy family.

Three years after the marriage, Seven was mortally wounded during what we'd expected would be a routine away mission. She died in her husband's arms. Chakotay was never the same after he lost her. While I'm sure he cared about you, he seemed unable to show it. For thirteen years, I watched him turn into a shell of the vital man I'd encountered on the Caretaker's station. How I felt about losing the Seven I'd pushed, pulled, and harried into individuality is too painful for me to describe. I won't even try.

After this, I became much more of a mentor to you, since the one who had taken you as her son and her widower were both absent, in spirit, if not in body. Yes, you graduated from the Academy as one of the most distinguished "Distant Learner" cadets Starfleet ever enrolled. If you had been in the Alpha Quadrant and on campus at that time, you would have delivered the class valedictory speech.

Not quite two years after you attained the rank of ensign, we again encountered the Borg. Three massive cubes were on our tail. Any moment they would catch us. Every one of us would have been assimilated. You stepped forward and gave a speech very much like the one you gave me the other day in the Ready Room, about how your new and improved version of the pathogen your parents had inserted into your DNA could protect us. How you were born to do this; and this time, you were offering yourself up as the Sacrificial Lamb because you wanted to be, not because anyone else had thrust you into the role without your knowledge or permission.

I let you go. All three cubes were destroyed. Afterwards, as we proceeded on our path homeward, we found several debris fields which we determined were the remains of other Borg vessels which had also been destroyed through the transmittal of the pathogen via their vinicula, just as you'd postulated. The effects did not travel to any Borg ships far distant from Voyager's position when you made your sacrifice, however. The Queen must have recognized the danger quickly enough to contain her losses. The Borg Queen and her Collective continued to exist, frustrated by what had occurred, but still very much a threat to the entire galaxy.

We made it home eventually, surviving several more battles with the Borg before doing so. Many of the papers you wrote for Tuvok while you were his student contained ideas we utilized to develop our defenses. We only discovered this material after your death. Once Tuvok's deterioration had progressed to the point where I had to name Lieutenant Ayala as Chief of Security, we discovered your coursework in Tuvok's files. He was already suffering the effects of this serious illness as of the time I chose to visit your Voyager. That's why your captain was so surprised by the progress of your "tinkering." Tuvok had forgotten to tell her what you'd showed him. In my time stream, I also never found out about your experiments until you volunteered your life to save us.

There was one special friend who was devastated by your loss. Tom had just set up the betting pool to name the date when Samantha would allow her daughter's engagement to be announced when the Borg cubes discovered us. Before you made your offer to me, you cleared it with Naomi. She was a Distant Learner cadet herself at that point, close to graduation, and she understood you were doing it to save her as much as anyone. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one," and all that. She was the "one" in a way, too. Naomi was proud of you, but it took her a very long time to move on. She didn't find her life partner until after our return to the Alpha Quadrant -- not that she had much choice on Voyager.

By the time I left "my time" to visit the past, to right what I considered my wrongs, Naomi's sons Icheb and Mason had a little sister, Sabrina. They all knew about their "Uncle Icheb," who sacrificed his life so that Naomi could become their mother. I don't know what will happen between the two of you now. Perhaps nothing, since you're back in the Alpha Quadrant and will have no lack of potential partners to choose from.

But, thanks in no small part to you, the young officer with a big heart and even greater courage, Admiral Kathryn Janeway became the authority on beating the Borg. When you made that pretty speech to the two Kathryn Janeways in the Ready Room, I remembered something you said then that you left out this time, when you insisted you could destroy the Borg vessels who were after us. When I asked you what affect this serum might have on any other cubes (much like your captain asked of you), you replied, "It depends on where it's delivered -- and to whom." I never forgot that. For years, I mulled over your response. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that the best place to deliver it would be to the Borg Queen herself. I can't tell you for certain I finally succeeded. I hope I did, and that the Borg are no more. Whether I achieved my goal or not, if you're reading this, you're in a position to help the authority on beating the Borg in your timeline -- your Captain Janeway -- do just that, if she must continue my work.

My very dear boy, I'm glad I got to see you "alive and kicking" once again. Since your life is going to proceed in a very different fashion for you than it did for my Icheb, I decided I might as well tell you what I wouldn't and couldn't say in "Borg Central" that day. The Icheb's history I've just related is fiction now, the tragic account of another young man's life and death; something that might have been. You have your own path to travel and your own love to find. I hope you have a very long and happy life -- and one free of the Collective forever. Take care, Icheb.

                                                          Best wishes always,

                                                          Kathryn Janeway (version 1)

=/\=

Once he finished reading the letter, Icheb walked slowly to Borg Central, where the computer told him she was presently located. He might not have gone to her right away if she'd had any company, but Seven was alone, working on her computer console. When he entered Cargo Bay Two, she looked up from her task. From the way her brow crinkled, his face must have revealed an emotional reaction to what he'd just read. She shut down the console as he approached. Without further preamble, he waved the letter at Seven. "Did you know about this?"

He handed her the pages and impatiently waited while she read, at a far slower rate than usual. While the fact it was handwritten might have made it a little harder for her to decipher, Icheb doubted that was the reason for her deliberate pace. Seven tapped the letter with her finger a few times after she was finished and finally replied to his question. "I knew some of this. The admiral told me about Chakotay and me when she was trying to convince Captain Janeway to go through the hub. She thought I would intervene on my own behalf. I refused." She hesitated before raising her eyes to his and adding, in a much softer tone of voice, "She failed to share any details about what happened to her Icheb."

"Do you think knowing this is why the captain eventually gave in?"

"To preserve our lives? It may have contributed to her decision," Seven acknowledged. "Knowing your serum had successfully destroyed the three cubes in the admiral's time stream was undoubtedly another. The stealth technology must also have been a factor. The captain expressed disappointment to me when I told her Voyager's current systems were incompatible with that particular technology, and that it could not be installed to hide our entire vessel. Since the technology was able to disguise Admiral Janeway's ship, however, Captain Janeway knew the probability of success was much greater than any attempt we could have made using Voyager's complement of shuttles. After the admiral demanded to be the one to attack the Queen's Unicomplex, I'm sure it was an opportunity too tempting for her to resist."

"How much do you know about the admiral's attack, Seven?"

"Not the ultimate outcome, of course. Only she and the Queen herself experienced that. From the way so many Borg vessels were exploding around us, even those which Commander Tuvok had yet to target with transphasic torpedoes, I'm quite certain the admiral did manage to infect the Borg Queen with your serum. We know the transwarp hub and its connecting conduits have collapsed for as far as our sensors can reach. How far the destruction may extend beyond our current technology's ability to discern is as yet unknown."

"Naomi said the admiral's little ship 'disappeared' before it entered the hub."

"She planned to utilize its stealth ability to hide her presence long enough to penetrate the Unicomplex. The captain warned her the Queen would probably discover her sooner, rather than later, but the admiral said she would worry about that when it happened. This letter appears to confirm she intended to let the Queen be the one to assimilate her."

Icheb nodded. "Yes, if she did, that would account for such widespread destruction. Do you think the admiral always knew she would give up her life if she came back to this time?"

"I suspect she hoped we would be able to get Voyager to the Alpha Quadrant safely without having to make that particular sacrifice. By the time she left us, however, I believe she actually anticipated having a final confrontation with her nemesis. She'd accepted her fate. She no longer had the means to return to her own time stream, even if it still existed; it's clear there's no room for a second Kathryn Janeway in this one."

"Do we know the Borg are no more?"

Seven shrugged her shoulders. "No. That remains to be seen."

"Captain Janeway may yet need to become the 'author of the book on how to beat the Borg' in this timeline," Icheb sighed.

"Perhaps. And if she does, both of us must be in a position to support her in that endeavor. Who else knows as much about the Collective as the two of us?"

"Mezoti," Icheb replied quietly.

Seven nodded in response as a shadow crossed her face. Icheb needed no other confirmation that his Norcadi sister was still in Seven's thoughts, as she was in his.

Seven handed the letter back to Icheb. "I would save this. It's a precious document, a part of your history -- even if it's a history we hope you'll never experience in this timeline. How do you feel about her revelations concerning the other Icheb?"

He refolded the letter and slipped it back into its envelope as he contemplated his reply. She hadn't needed to tell him to save it; he knew he always would, if only as a memento of the remarkable person who'd written it. After giving Seven's question due consideration, however, Icheb said, "I knew Naomi and I became very close in the admiral's timeline because of an offhand comment she made in this cargo bay -- not even a week ago. So much has happened, it's hard to believe how little time has passed since her visit. I don't plan to share this information with anyone else, especially Naomi. About the rest . . . I guess I'm glad she answered my questions. That Icheb graduated from the Academy with high honors, even without the chance to attend any classes in person. I know the rank he'd achieved at the time of his death. I'd prefer not to think about the rest. None of these deaths will happen now. I hope not, anyway."

She put her arms around him then. Wordlessly, they comforted each other, mourning for the people who had been them, in a way, but not them -- or they hoped would not be them.

=/\=

As he walked back to the quarters he shared with Freddie, Icheb reviewed everything he'd learned about a future which had been eradicated through the admiral's sacrifice. While he'd learned a lot from the letter, it hadn't explicitly revealed all he might wish to know about why she came, or, more importantly, why she chose this particular point in time to arrive. The admiral could have returned to Voyager much earlier in the journey. If she had, she could have led them to the nebula with the transwarp hub, and thus to the Alpha Quadrant, even sooner than they'd discovered it. If she'd arrived before Voyager had been ordered to retrieve Friendship One, she might have prevented Joe Carey's death through her foreknowledge of Verin's duplicity. Perhaps they would never have discovered the Talaxian colony, and Neelix would still have been aboard. Since the Talaxian appeared deliriously happy with Dexa and Brax, Icheb couldn't really be sorry about that aspect, but he did miss him.

Icheb now understood that Tuvok's medical condition was the reason he'd lost to Icheb in the Kal-toh match, which had taken place a mere few days before the initial encounter with the hub. If Tuvok needed treatment, the sooner they returned to the Alpha Quadrant, the better. And if she'd arrived earlier, the relationship between Seven and Chakotay might never have even started. Icheb started to think about how nice it would have been if she'd come before Mezoti left Voyager before refusing to deliberate on this any further. The ship was still quite far from the nebula at that point. If she'd come that early, the Federation Temporal Police probably would have stopped her from interfering. In fact, maybe she did come earlier, in an altered timeline which none of them knew about because the Temporal Police stepped in and changed everything back to the way it had been. Icheb smiled briefly as this idea occurred to him.

It wasn't until Icheb had reached his quarters and stretched out on his bunk that it hit him. While Seven and Chakotay had become serious about each other, their relationship was still very new. The Alpha Quadrant offered other options for love they didn't have while traveling on Voyager.

What if Captain Janeway had formed a strong attachment to Commander Chakotay very early in their journey, as the ship's rumor mill insisted? Voyager's proximity to the transwarp hub might not have been the only reason the admiral timed her visit the way she did. Had she suspected her second in command's and Seven's relationship might never come to full fruition if it were to be disrupted now? If Voyager skipped those dangerous sixteen years, the lives of more than twenty crew members would be spared -- Seven's and Icheb's included. Chakotay might never become the "shell of the man she once knew." Was saving him from pain, from this bleakness of soul which had ruined his later life, her true motivation?

There could be another reason, too. All could be different for the admiral's younger counterpart. Once Chakotay ceased to be under her command, the protocol of a captain foregoing a personal relationship with her first officer would no longer apply. If they did care for each other, Captain Janeway could express her love for Chakotay, and he for her -- if he were free.

Ah, but there's the rub, as Shakespeare might have put it. Chakotay was very involved with Seven at this point. Icheb had no expectation at all that this would change.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 55001.8   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb

My Academy placement interviews are over. Yesterday morning I received written confirmation I will begin classes during the third week in January as a second-year cadet. I've received credit for a year and a half of course work, which I didn't expect. I'll need to take two required courses designed for first year cadets, but other than that, I'm "right on schedule" to graduate with the Class of 2380. When I went to Commander Tuvok's quarters to share this with him, he didn't respond to my request to enter. I was a little confused, since I knew he was there. I tried to contact him through the comm system, but he didn't answer me that way, either.

When I mentioned this to Tom in the mess hall, where we were both having lunch, he told me, "Tuvok isn't seeing anyone right now." I asked him if the commander was ill. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, and I admitted I'd received information indicating the commander was suffering from a serious medical disorder. Tom slowly nodded his head in the affirmative and suggested I send Tuvok a message he could read at his convenience, when he "feels up to it." So, without giving me any real details, Tom confirmed what I'd read in the admiral's letter. Commander Tuvok must be very ill if he's sequestering himself from the crew.

The Family Court interviewer I met with this morning, Mrs. Yuhl, was cordial but quite tenacious in getting at the truth of my situation. Apparently the documents she'd received from Seven and the captain lacked details about why I "left" Brunal. First, we spoke about how our Collective was discovered by Voyager and rescued just before the Borg cube exploded. She asked me about my "siblings" Azan, Rebi, and Mezoti. Why had I decided to remain on Voyager instead of moving to Wysanti when the others did? I answered her honestly that I'd considered Voyager my home by then, and I desired a career in Starfleet. Then she wanted to know why I left my parents' care after Captain Janeway returned me to them. I debated whether or not I should answer her the way I did the Antarean ambassador at Tom and B'Elanna's wedding, but I realized that wouldn't satisfy her. A version of that story was apparently in the existing court documents. I suspected it wasn't enough. So, I told her the truth.

I stayed as calm as I could as I told her my parents had injected me with a sedative and packed me into a transport, doctored to appear far more technologically advanced than it was, and sent me into the path of a Borg vessel to be assimilated -- and that it was the second time they'd done this to me. When the captain brought me to them, my parents assured Captain Janeway and Seven of Nine they wanted me to live with them on our home planet because that's where I belonged. Even though I was happy on Voyager, they demanded my return. They lied to Seven about how I was assimilated the first time. If not for Mezoti supplying accurate information about how and when that occurred, Voyager would have been too far away to save me when the captain learned the truth -- assuming she ever did . The Borg sphere would have already taken my little ship inside it, and I would have been assimilated once again. Voyager arrived just in time to rescue me before the Borg accomplished this.

As I continued to describe the events, I could see her becoming more and more agitated by what she heard. When I reported Seven told me my parents had proven themselves to be "unfit," she gasped. Looking down at her PADD, she frantically scrolled through it until she finally said, "None of this is in here! The captain claims they gave you up voluntarily!"

"Well," I responded, "my parents put me inside a ship and sent me into space to be assimilated by the Borg -- twice. They never expected to see me again after they did it the first time, but on the fourth day after Voyager agreed to their demands and returned me to them, they did it again. I think that would qualify as giving me up 'voluntarily,' don't you?"

I suggested the official ship's logs of the actions Voyager took to free me from the second assimilation should confirm what I'd told her. I contacted the captain and asked her if there was a procedure for the court to follow to obtain the pertinent ship's logs. She replied that if the court subpoenaed the records concerning these particular events, Starfleet Command would approve their release. I thought about asking the captain why she'd been so circumspect about the facts in the documents that had already been sent to Mrs. Yuhl, but I decided to wait and ask her that in private, after this interview was over.

Mrs. Yuhl contacted her superiors in San Francisco and requested the subpoena. It didn't take long. By the time she'd finished questioning me about my relationship with Seven and if I wanted to be adopted by her ("Of Course!" I told her), the logs had already arrived at Mrs. Yuhl's office. She shook her head at the same time she shook my hand to say good-bye. "I've heard a lot of horror stories about abusive parents, but yours has got to be one of the worst ever."

"It's going to be all right, Mrs. Yuhl. I'll always consider Seven my true parent, no matter what the courts decide. I hope you will let her adopt me, though. The Voyager family has been very good to me, but she's the best mother I could ever have. Seven cares for me, and she knows what it's like to be separated from the Borg's hive mind. She's helped me adapt and learn to live as an individual ever since she rescued my Borg siblings and me from our cube. Seven's genetics and mine may be that of different species, but we share a common heritage. We once were Borg."

After the social worker left, I went to see the captain in her ready room. I tried to remain calm when I asked her why the documents sent to the court didn't provide all the details necessary for them to make their determination. She sighed and said she'd encouraged Seven to send the entire story, but Seven had been certain they had sufficient cause to grant the adoption. Since I was so far away from my parents by now, it was inconceivable I could return to them. Then I inquired if Starfleet Command had given the captain any problems about releasing the information, since it was likely to include some classified material. She said she'd prepared an edited file of those events at the time Seven first filed the adoption papers, "just in case" she needed to provide more detail to the courts. This file was shared with Starfleet's legal division at the time. They'd cleared it for release as long as it was required to establish my status in the Federation. That's why she knew to tell Mrs. Yuhl she could obtain the logs by means of a subpoena.

As I was leaving, the captain admitted, "I may need to provide Seven with a little more instruction in the workings of institutions in the Federation -- the judicial ones in particular." As she said this, the captain was smiling at me in that quirky way she does, especially when Seven is the subject. I think she expected Seven's efforts to protect me from the truth would fail. And of course, they have, since I hacked into those logs right after I returned to Voyager.

Two hours after I said good-bye to Mrs. Yuhl, she contacted me from her office in downtown San Francisco. My Family Court Hearing is on the docket for next month, exact date and time still to be determined, but she told me, "I've reviewed the logs. It's all there; everything you told me is confirmed. There's even more you may not know about. I actually hope you don't! But I'm certain you'll be pleased with the court's decree once it's issued. I don't think it's premature to say, 'Welcome to the Federation, Cadet Icheb.'"

=/\=

On the day Seven and Icheb were to leave Voyager to visit Aunt Irene in Sweden, Icheb and Seven entered the mess hall and saw a group of crew members clustered around one table. All of them were Maquis or Equinox people, which wasn't surprising. With most of the debriefings concluded, virtually the entire Starfleet crew had left the ship to visit family, friends, or, if they weren't natives of Earth, to do some sightseeing denied them while the crew was enduring their interrogations. Everyone in the mess hall (other than Chell, who was serving breakfast) was standing around and chatting with Tom, B'Elanna, and Marla, who were sitting at a table with their daughters trying, semi-successfully, to ingest their breakfasts.

At the table in closest proximity to theirs, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok was eating his own meal, surrounded by a contingent of Vulcans. Icheb recognized Tuvok's family from images he'd  seen during visits to his tutor's quarters, either for lessons or to turn in course work. When the Vulcan officer saw them, he waved his hand slightly, gesturing for Seven and Icheb to approach. "Allow me to introduce my family. They are visiting from Vulcan." Each of the family members nodded in turn as Tuvok identified his wife T'Pel, his daughter Asil, his sons Varith, Elieth, and Sek, and Sek's wife Varin and their daughter T'Meni.

Icheb became so distracted by Tuvok's daughter Asil, a stunningly beautiful young woman, that all he could manage to respond with was a stuttering, "It is g-good to meet you."

Seven glanced sideways at Icheb, amused by his discomfiture, but all she said was, "You have a lovely family, Commander. I'm pleased to have the opportunity to make their acquaintance."  After nodding her head towards each one in turn, she turned briskly away, approached the wall with the replicator, and ordered her favorite nutritional supplement breakfast. Icheb followed meekly behind her and ordered the same thing, even though Chell's morning offerings smelled quite appetizing.

They chose to sit at the table on the side of Tuvok's family that was away from the group admiring the ship's babies. As he sipped his shake, Icheb watched the Vulcans as unobtrusively as he could. While he'd often observed Vorik and Tuvok, as well as the former Maquis Vulcan crew woman who kept to herself virtually all of the time, he hadn't seen them interacting with each other very much. They weren't family, of course. Seeing Tuvok with his was a revelation. T'Pel, Tuvok's wife, was very dignified, but her movements and the snippets of conversation Icheb caught were much livelier than he'd expected, to judge from his studies of Vulcan culture. Asil was even more animated. While Icheb wouldn't go so far as to say she was behaving emotionally, she clearly was much younger and less practiced in controlling her facial expressions than her brothers and sister-in-law seemed to be.

What intrigued him the most, however, was seeing young T'Meni in action. From a conversation he'd had with Tuvok several months ago, Icheb calculated she was now five years and eight months old by Federation Standard reckoning. When T'Meni, in a loud voice, asked her mother for permission to visit with Aimee Gilmore and little Miral at the next table, Icheb realized that Vulcans were not, by nature, grave and emotionally distant, which was the way those of other races perceived them. T'Meni wasn't demanding or ill-behaved, but Icheb could see she had a lot to learn about controlling the manner in which she expressed herself. Icheb heard her mother Varin softly admonish T'Meni not to "shout," for example. She did, however, grant her daughter permission to visit the other children.

Icheb recalled a conversation he'd had with Tom, shortly after the "Borglets" arrived on Voyager. Tom told him about the time Tuvok, the Doctor, and Tom were marooned on a planet with a temporal distortion. They thought they'd been lost for months, although only two days had passed for those on Voyager. During this stressful period, Tuvok admitted to Tom that as a young man, his family had sent him to a monastery for instruction, since he was anything but adept at controlling his emotions. Tom explained that Tuvok used meditation to maintain his balance around the rest of Voyager's crew, since it was comprised primarily of humans, along with several Bajorans, a couple of Bolians, and one very intense Klingon/human hybrid. Members of these species could be quite volatile. They had no need to curb their language or behaviors which a Vulcan could not display and still be considered culturally appropriate. Icheb had no doubt the presence of his family was a primary reason the lieutenant commander was able to sit so calmly in the mess hall while a rowdy group was partying right next to him.

The smell of Chell's breakfast was too enticing for Icheb to ignore for long. His shake simply wasn't enough to satisfy him. Once Seven excused herself to finish her "packing" for Aunt Irene's -- which puzzled Icheb, since her meagre wardrobe and a portable regeneration unit were just about all she needed to bring with her -- Icheb braved the Bolian chef's effusiveness long enough to choose a more substantial meal. The eggs, sausages, and toast disappeared down his gullet and into his stomach much faster than he would have liked, especially once he became aware, through his peripheral vision, of Asil discreetly scrutinizing him while he ate.

When a shadow fell across his empty plate, Icheb looked up and saw his tutor regarding him. Gravely, Commander Tuvok said, "Cadet, I wish to congratulate you for attaining advanced placement at the Academy. I was pleased those who evaluated you agreed with my assessment of your level of accomplishment."

"Thank you, Commander. I believe your guidance and the excellent instruction you provided me are the reasons they did so."

Tuvok looked briefly to his left, towards his wife, who had touched him lightly on the elbow, before nodding very slightly and responding, "An instructor is only as successful as his pupil is committed to learn. You have been one of the most promising students I have ever had the privilege of teaching. I must also acknowledge your . . . sensitivity . . . towards my . . . current state of being . . ." Tuvok paused and swallowed visibly before adding, "It is much appreciated. I apologize for not being able to invite you into my quarters when you wished to share your news. I was not well enough for visitors that day. It was gratifying to read your message when I was capable of doing so. Thank you for sending it."

As Icheb stood up, he became aware that Asil had taken a position to her father's right, although she wasn't touching him in the way her mother was. Icheb became aware that the sons were now gathered around Tuvok as well. They weren't simply waiting for him, Icheb realized. They were supporting him at this difficult time. His illness must be a very serious one for the entire family to have come from Vulcan. 

Icheb hesitated, because if he said what he was thinking, it meant he was acknowledging Tuvok's illness. He couldn't help himself, however. He said what he'd wanted to admit for several days. "Commander, I realize I didn't truly win our Kal-toh match that day. You should have won."

For the first time since he'd entered the mess hall, Icheb thought the Commander's demeanor brightened ever so slightly, as if he was pleased to have the truth of the game's outcome to be recognized. Icheb was surprised, therefore, by the lieutenant commander's response. "I disagree. Poor strategy, whatever the root cause, leads to a loss. You merely took advantage of an opening I gave you. If you had made such a move, I would have taken advantage of it to win the game, as I have done with Mr. Kim on numerous occasions. Your victory was real. When I am fully healed, however, I will challenge you to another game. I advise you to hone your skills in the interim. Prepare yourself for a rigorous match by playing Kal-Toh with others. I look forward to our future competition."

Icheb smiled. "I accept, Commander. Name the date and the time, and I will answer your challenge."

Tuvok nodded again. Surrounded by his entourage of devoted and attentive family members, he left the mess hall. Once the group had passed through its doors, Icheb glanced towards the table where Tom, B'Elanna, Marla, and their respective offspring were still seated. Tom winked at him. Icheb smiled back at his friend.

Although his family of origin had proven to be a bitter disappointment to him, his Voyager family had accepted Icheb with open arms from the very beginning of his stay on the starship. He hoped his Great Aunt Irene would prove to be just as welcoming towards him as those on Voyager had been.

=/\=

Any trepidation Icheb may have felt prior to the trip to Sweden disappeared as soon as they arrived at the transport station in Malmö. Aunt Irene was there waiting for them. So were her daughter Anna-Christina Olsson, her son Karl Magnus Anderson, and their spouses and children. Seven had told Icheb that her aunt had two grown children, but in their datastream messages, the aunt hadn't mentioned her grandchildren. The crowd that greeted them was as much of a surprise to Seven as it was to Icheb.

Not long after they arrived at Aunt Irene's home, several more cousins of various degrees of relationship appeared, along with an elderly gentleman who turned out to be Seven's maternal grandfather, James McGinty. He had traveled from his home in Brooklyn, New York, to reacquaint himself with his granddaughter. "While you're on Earth, you must come to Brooklyn for a visit. You'll find you have cousins, aunts, and uncles there, too."

When Karl's daughter Anna-Lise asked Icheb what it was like to travel thousands of light years through the Delta Quadrant, Icheb looked around the crowded room and said, "We had a lot of crew mates on the ship. A little like this family." A ripple of laughter traveled throughout the room. From that point on, Icheb felt at home.

Roughly half the days Seven and Icheb were in Malmö were spent meeting and visiting with members of their extended family. The rest of the time a smaller group of cousins took them sightseeing. On the third day of their visit, they went through a museum in Stockholm. A sailing ship which had been recovered from its watery grave during the twentieth century was a featured exhibit. "In the seventeenth century on Earth, the Vasa was much like your Starfleet starships, only it sailed the seas, not the heavens," Karl Magnus explained. "It was designed for exploration and to provide military actions to protect Sweden. Unfortunately, it sank during one of its early missions, but as a result, it was well-preserved when it was rediscovered. It allows us to see what the cutting-edge technology of its time was like." Because Icheb was captivated by the Vasa, Karl-Magnus brought him to a museum in Norway several days later, where a resurrected Viking ship, representing an even older technology of oceanic navigation, was on display. Karl-Magnus commented that when the Vikings came to call, "the people who were being raided reacted in the same way the people of Captain James Kirk's day did, prior to the Kitomer Accords, when they saw Klingon attack forces coming at them."

To Icheb's surprise, Aunt Irene's family tended to visit Copenhagen, in Denmark, as frequently as they did their Swedish capital. Copenhagen was closer to Malmö than Stockholm. Since Seven and Icheb's visit took place in January, Copenhagen's famous Tivoli Gardens were closed for the season, but they took the railway across the Öresund Bridge to visit other attractions that were available in the winter.

Icheb had asked to see the Little Mermaid in the harbor. He'd read the Hans Christian Andersen story when he'd explored children's literature after his return from Quarra. While they went to see the statue, it was a very brief visit. The day was bone-chillingly cold, with a mixture of sleet and freezing rain descending from the sky, and everyone agreed it was preferable to spend their time indoors rather than getting soaked in icy weather. Fortunately, Aunt Irene's daughter Anna-Christina had checked the weather forecast before they left Malmö. Wisely, she'd arranged for the group to visit the Danish Royal Library to view illuminated manuscripts from Earth's medieval period. Icheb and Seven were both very impressed by their beauty. Icheb thought the illustrated pages of the Copenhagen Psalter glowed with life, even though the artists which painted them had passed away some twelve hundred years before.

Afterwards, while eating a late lunch at a smorgasbord restaurant near the library, Icheb contemplated whether or not treasures such as the Psalter might have been created by Brunali artists in the distant past. During his very short sojourn on his native planet, he couldn't recall hearing anything about a museum, or even a library, exhibiting any items like these. If they had ever existed, like the Brunali children's books he couldn't remember, such things may have been lost as collateral damage when the Borg repeatedly raided Brunal.

When he asked Seven about this during their train ride back to Malmö, she confirmed that the Collective considered a civilization's art unimportant. "When the Borg assimilate a planet, such items are discarded as irrelevant. Perhaps someday, an anthropologist on Brunal will unearth scraps of such superb artefacts buried beneath rubble, left behind when the Borg scooped up its technology and people." Their cousins Anna-Christina and her daughter Anna-Lise were sitting nearby on the train, close enough to hear what Seven said. While they didn't comment about her revelation at the time, that evening after dinner, the subject everyone had been avoiding for the first few days of the family reunion finally came out into the open.

Karl-Magnus was the one who hesitantly broached the issue. "You know I am the namesake of my Uncle Magnus, Annika. I understand he . . . he became Borg when you did."

"Yes," Seven said succinctly. Icheb wondered if she would refuse to say anything more about him. He knew what happened to Seven's family was as bitter a subject for her as Icheb's parent's betrayal was to him.

"Annika," Aunt Irene said softly. "If you don't wish to tell us more about your parents, we'll understand, but I do wish to know if they're still Borg. Or do you think they're dead?"

Seven glanced over towards Icheb. His role in the destruction of the Borg was unknown to the general public. He doubted she'd say anything about their supposition that most of the Borg were dead because of the way so many of the vessels which Commander Tuvok had not yet attacked with Admiral Janeway's transphasic torpedoes blew up on their own. However, Seven's answer to her aunt concerned a series of events which took place long before he'd arrived on Voyager.

"When the Borg attacked The Raven, both of my parents were assimilated. The Borg also assimilate children, but they do not immediately become functional drones. They're placed in maturation chambers, sometimes for years, to be indoctrinated into the Collective until they are fully developed. Icheb did not remain inside his chamber long enough for this process to be completed. I did." She paused. Her grandfather McGinty was present, listening closely to what Seven had to say. She walked over to him and held out her hand, grasping his before saying, "I never saw my mother again, so I do not know if she survived the assimilation process. Not everyone does." The old man nodded slowly, absorbing this painful truth.

"What about my brother Magnus?" Aunt Irene quickly asked. Icheb realized she'd picked up on the way Seven phrased her response about her mother. Seven would have said she never saw either of her parents again if that, in fact, had been her experience.

Seven dropped her grandfather's hand and strolled slowly around the room, lost in her thoughts. Everyone remained silent, waiting for her to continue. Once she arrived at the large picture window of the room, Seven gazed pensively into the cold, dark night. Finally, in a soft voice, she recounted what had to be some of her bitterest memories. "When Voyager discovered what was left of The Raven, Commander Tuvok retrieved what he could from its computer, just before the wreckage fell down a canyon. That planet is more than fifty thousand light years away from here. The region's inhabitants, the B'omar, did not welcome Voyager. We were forced to speed away from their space before we had a complete understanding of what the lieutenant commander's tricorder contained. I believe the captain did skim through its contents, but not in any depth.

"Two years and five months ago, Captain Janeway asked me to study the data for a . . . a project we were about to undertake." She sighed before continuing, "I learned my mother had become alarmed and warned my father they should end their study. She felt they'd gained enough data and needed to return to the Alpha Quadrant to share what they'd learned. They were so far away from home by that point, it may have been impossible, but she didn't want to follow the cube they were studying any longer. She thought they'd been lucky the Borg hadn't noticed my father during his visits, even though he'd developed technology to hide his presence from them." She sighed again and looked back at her aunt, who was sitting very still in her armchair. "She was right, but her warning came too late. We were discovered."

At this point, Aunt Irene leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, and groaned, "Oh, Magnus, my dearest brother. Always your fatal flaw! The dog with a bone, that was you! Once engaged in a subject, you never seemed to know when enough was enough. There was always that one, last, fascinating tidbit of information you simply had to obtain." When she opened her eyes, she sighed and asked her niece, "When was the last time you saw him?"

"When I saw my father again, he was in the company of the Borg Queen. Papa was a drone, of course. She'd added his 'distinctiveness to her own,' as she always put it. She may have liked having him near her. Or it could have been for my benefit, since she wanted me to come back to the Collective."  Icheb could hear the steel return to her voice. "The project I'd undertaken for the captain resulted in my capture. The Queen didn't immediately take away my individuality. I will not share the tasks I agreed to complete for her while in her grasp, when she told me she would assimilate everyone on Voyager unless I cooperated with what she ordered me to do.

"When Captain Janeway and the crew rescued me, they didn't rescue my father. I don't think they were aware he was one of the drones near us. It might have been impossible, even if they did know. Everything happened so fast. We had to flee as soon as I was back on Voyager. Papa was still connected to the Hive and the Queen at the time. If Captain Janeway had rescued him, he might have tried to assimilate Voyager. Commander Tuvok hadn't had an opportunity to make any preparations to prevent such an eventuality.

"We know the vessel that followed us into the conduit at the time of our escape was destroyed. We believed the Queen and my father were both still on that ship, but the Queen communicated with me again later. She must have survived.  I have no way to know if he was also saved."

Seven looked towards Icheb then. He didn't need to hear a subvocal command to maintain his silence about what had transpired when the Admiral Janeway of the future made her suicide run at the Queen. He couldn't have said anything anyway. After all, they had no concrete knowledge of what had happened at the Unicomplex. All they knew for certain was that the hub and the conduits had been destroyed everywhere Starfleet had searched. Whether the Queen had been killed, along with the drone who had once been Magnus Hansen, they did not know. He nodded his head ever so slightly, just to let her know he'd understood.

Aunt Irene walked over to her niece, murmuring softly, "Oh, my dear Annika. I'm so, so sorry." She wrapped her arms around Seven and hugged her. Gradually, all of the cousins converged on Seven, with each, in turn, offering condolences. It reminded Icheb of Joe Carey's wake on Voyager. And perhaps, in a way, that's exactly what this was: a memorial service for a couple who had, in a sense, died when they'd lost their individuality due to their dedication to scientific research. As for their actual lives, those, too, had probably been erased. While Icheb hoped the truth would eventually be revealed, he felt that sinking feeling in his stomach again. It was unlikely they ever would know.

=/\=

While Icheb and Seven agreed the reunion with Aunt Irene and their new-found family had been a wonderful experience, by the end of the visit, they were more than ready to return to San Francisco. They wanted to learn how their crew mates had fared during their absence. Icheb checked into the Terran news services every morning and was able to report to Seven they'd missed two "Welcome Home, Voyager" bashes that were held while they were in Scandinavia, but he didn't find anything about the fate of the Maquis. More importantly, nothing had been said about Captain Ransom, Lieutenant Burke, or the crew of Equinox, either. Icheb saw a few feature stories about Starfleet crew members' reunions with family members, but nothing of any substance had been distributed by Starfleet Headquarters. Icheb wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing. He was eager to get back to find out what was really going on.

Although Aunt Irene invited them to stay with her for as long as they wished, Seven explained they needed to get back as scheduled. "The adoption hearing is set for next week. We must be there in case court representatives have any more questions," Seven explained.

Aunt Irene said she understood. As they were getting ready to leave her home, Seven shared something with her and with Icheb that even he had not heard before. "Aunt Irene, I wish you to know of a decision I've made. Yesterday, I contacted the court in San Francisco and asked them to make a revision in their documents. I will adopt Icheb using the name my parents gave me at birth. When I return to my duties, I will ask everyone to use the name Annika Hansen during my work assignments and in official documents."

Aunt Irene's eyes flooded with tears. "Oh, Annika, now I know you've really come home to us." Hugging them fiercely, she bid farewell to her niece Annika and soon-to-be grand-nephew, Icheb Hansen.

=/\=

Stardate 55017.8   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb (soon to be Cadet Icheb Hansen!)

We've returned from Sweden. The visit was great, but we're both very glad to be home. Chakotay was waiting for us in the transporter room to welcome us back.  Seven left with him. I went to the quarters I'd shared with Ensign Bristow. At this point, they're just mine. Freddie is in Seattle with his family. When we last spoke, he said he's reconsidering his career as a Starfleet officer. "I think I've done enough space traveling in the last seven years to last me a lifetime."

As soon as I tossed my luggage on my bunk, I checked on everyone else to find out who was still around. Forty-seven members of the crew remain on board. Almost all of them are Maquis or Equinox crew members, but the captain hasn't been released yet either. She's enduring interview after interview. By the time she's allowed to finally leave the ship, I think every single admiral, captain, or department head assigned to Starfleet Command Headquarters will have grilled her about everything that happened in the Delta Quadrant. It may take her seven years to relate all they want to know before her inquisitors are satisfied.

Tom and B'Elanna are here, but they don't have any duties. They're officially on parental leave, caring for Miral (who's even cuter now than she was when I saw her last). With Voyager in orbit around Earth, there wouldn't be much for Tom to do even if he were at the helm. B'Elanna is waiting for the decision on the Maquis. Tom's free to go off the ship whenever he wants, but he won't leave anytime soon. He's spending his time with his family. Tom's Out-Mate Review Board Hearing took place a few days ago. He's been officially discharged from the Federation Penal Settlement in New Zealand because of "time served." Since he was "on parole" with Captain Janeway on Voyager for twice as long as his sentence, that's not a surprise!

He hasn't heard yet whether he'll be able to continue serving in Starfleet. His discharge from the service after he failed to admit his fault in the accident at Caldik Prime would normally prevent that. "If I can't stay in, I'll look into revising some of my holodeck programs for publication. If the Doc can be a published author, so can I!" It's likely he'll only continue to be Lieutenant Paris if he receives a pardon expunging the general discharge that ended his Starfleet career after Caldik Prime. That might happen if the Maquis are pardoned for their military actions against the Cardassians. I hope so.

Naomi and her mother are visiting Sam's cousin in Toronto. Greskrendtregk hasn't arrived yet from Deep Space Nine. Last year he decided to accept a promotional position and stay on the station long-term. He assumed that when his wife and daughter returned to this quadrant, Voyager's first stop would be at their last port of call before heading out to the Badlands. He had trouble arranging for as much leave time as he desired (hard to imagine, in such a unique situation), but he's expected to arrive on Earth any day now.

Commander Tuvok and T'Pel are still in residence, as is their daughter; but the rest of the family has gone back to Vulcan. When I went to visit the Doctor in Sickbay to tell him about our trip to Sweden, Asil was with him. She was describing the work she does with her mother, which is the creation of devices to help those with medical challenges live independently. Asil is extremely pretty -- I became a little tongue-tied once again when I first saw her. After we'd spoken together for a few minutes, I got over my nervousness and enjoyed our conversation. She's very nice, and just as smart as I would expect any of Tuvok's children to be. When I mentioned my genetic research, she asked me if I would be willing to share a little of it with her. From the wording of her request, it was clear she already knew something about it.

We went to the lab adjacent to Sickbay. I showed her my genome, pointing out the alterations my parents had made to it to turn me into a neurolytic pathogen-producing organism. She comprehended the ramifications so quickly, I asked her if she was familiar with my work because she'd performed a mind-meld with her father. She explained she hasn't -- yet. She'll have to soon, once he's cleared to return to Vulcan. Since her mind is the most compatible with her father's of anyone in the family, she'll be performing the actual healing procedures. Asil admits she's not looking forward to it, but she's determined to help him recover.

Since she was a little girl, Asil has been able to read her father's surface thoughts, especially when he gets agitated. This is happening more and more frequently. T'Pel can keep him focused and control his distractibility, but Asil is uniquely qualified to provide the actual therapy, under the guidance of monks at a temple dedicated to healing. She said her father has a relatively obscure condition called "fal-tor-voh." It occurs in Vulcans who have suffered brain damage, either through physical injuries or from performing mind melds with those afflicted with very serious psychological disorders. The Doctor wasn't around when she told me this. I'm not sure he would have approved if he were, since he's always so careful to maintain patient confidentiality. However, I know what happened to her father during the Unimatrix Zero incident. Dr. Kadan's "therapy" on Quarra was also very damaging to him. Through my study of the ship's logs, I learned of other incidents which may have contributed to this illness. Seven years in the Delta Quadrant was not kind to Commander Tuvok's mental health.

Despite the seriousness of our subject, I enjoyed our discussion. Asil told me my work was "fascinating." That's something a Vulcan often says in place of "exciting." We spent a very pleasant hour in the lab. She had to leave when her mother contacted her and asked her to stay with her father while T'Pel attended a meeting at Starfleet Medical. After Asil was gone, the EMH called me into Sickbay to tell him "everything" about the visit to Scandinavia. I did my best. I'm sure he grilled Seven afterwards anyway. Seven's father isn't the only one who insists on learning every last tidbit of a subject that interests him.

That reminds me. I asked Seven if she wished me to call her Annika. She told me I could continue to call her Seven if I wished. "You're my son. If you wish to call me Mommy, I won't mind." I told her I thought I might be a little old for that one. After all this time, it will be hard to call her anything other than Seven, so that's what I'll stick with. She's fine with that.

We'll be going to court the day after tomorrow. We may not be required to appear in person. If we'd still been traveling in the Delta Quadrant, the hearing would have gone on without us. However, I think I'd like to observe the process. Mrs. Yuhl told us we're welcome to attend, so both of us will be there. I'm excited. Or maybe I'm "fascinated."

I think it sounds better when Asil says it.

=/\=

Personal Log Addendum

While I was visiting with Tom and B'Elanna, I finally had a chance to ask him why he was so moved during the captain's speech, when she told us about the parade and the rest of the activities scheduled for our first days back. He knew what I was asking him about. When the captain suggested we could share an anecdote about someone who wasn't with us anymore, if an outsider got too pushy about something we didn't feel like talking about, he thought of all of our lost ones, especially, Joe Carey. "And I thought of one other person. Lieutenant Stadi died at her post when the Caretaker pulled Voyager into the Delta Quadrant. I became Voyager's chief helmsman because she was gone. Stadi was Betazoid. She had the sort of captain-to-helmsman rapport that's hard for a mere human to match. She was a nice person, too. I wouldn't be where I am now if she'd survived, but I wish she had. You know what I mean?"

B'Elanna remarked, "I'm sure you would have been on her staff, just not the main guy. Hey, maybe you'd have married her instead of me!"

"NEVER!" Tom retorted, putting his arm around her and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. And then he leaned over towards me and said, in what I've heard is called a stage whisper, "I couldn't! She'd have been my boss!" B'Elanna laughed out loud when she heard that, but it made me think of the captain's situation in the Delta Quadrant with Commander Chakotay. She was his boss, too. And neither of them ever forgot it, either.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 55019.8   Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb (Hansen, as of tomorrow!)

Seven and I were gathering some possessions I'd left behind in Borg Central when I moved in with Freddie. After the court hearing tomorrow, I'll move to a dorm room on the Academy campus. The new semester starts next Monday. While I was there, Marla and Noah came into Cargo Bay Two to "borrow" a few crates in which to pack their belongings. "Are you being allowed to leave Voyager?" I asked Noah.

"You could say that," he said. His laughter sounded very bitter. 

Marla finished his thought. "Our Board of Inquiry hearings are over. There aren't going to be any courts martial for us, but . . ."

The Equinox people were told they would not face trials as long as they all resigned immediately from Starfleet. Because of pressure from the Ransom and Burke families to obtain citations for "bravery and services to the Federation" for the deceased captain and executive officer (Noah and the others get sick even thinking about that possibility), the Admiralty has permanently classified the ship and its missions top secret. If the Five are court martialed, everything that happened on "that ship," including the murder of aliens to turn them into fuel, is bound to get out. This would be a major public relations disaster for Starfleet, which is still reeling from some of the events which occurred during the Dominion War. The Five were told if they resigned, they would receive the same benefits the rest of the Starfleet crew will receive, according to the length of time they'd served and the rank achieved as of this date (which means Marla and Noah would be considered crewmen, not ensigns, the rank they'd both held on Equinox). They won't receive dishonorable discharges, but they can't be honest about the true reason they left Starfleet to anyone. Ever. And we can't say anything about this to anyone, either. If the secret is exposed, the Five could still face murder charges because, as Tom later explained to me, there's no statute of limitations for that crime.

The captain announced the decision this evening to everyone still in residence on Voyager. The crew who currently are off ship will receive personal visits from security staff people, who will explain everything to them, too. Marla didn't seem very upset. "It'll work out okay," she said. "I think I'd prefer to live on Earth from now on anyway." Marla and Aimee will stay with Marla's sister until she finds a job and things settle down for them. Noah agreed it was the best they could hope for, since none of them will be imprisoned. Noah also plans to stay on Earth. Without a conviction on his record, he'll qualify for jobs which require a security clearance. Jim Morrow, Brian Sofin, and Angelo Tessoni have all said they plan to ship out on commercial vehicles. They'll be "employable," too, which they might not be as convicted felons, even if their sentences were commuted to "time served," like Tom's was.

All of them will leave the ship today as ordered. We may still see them at some of the welcome home celebrations planned for the crew, however. When I spoke to Tom about it afterwards, he said, rather cynically, "They'll be allowed to come to the parties, if only to maintain the fiction their resignations were voluntary. Sorry, but it sucks, big time."

He's right. It does.

I wonder if this indicates what the "disposition" of the Maquis crew will be as well. I hope not.

=/\=

"Cadet Icheb Hansen, reporting for room assignment, sir."

The "sir" in question was a second year cadet waiting for him in the vestibule of Archer Hall, the building which would serve as Icheb's residence for the remainder of this academic year. She nodded her head to acknowledge his presence in that slightly stiff way Icheb noticed was virtually universal when one was introduced to a Vulcan. "You may refer to me by my given name Verit, Cadet Hansen. You are to be one of my suitemates. Follow me."

She held out her hand and relieved Icheb of the small duffel bag containing his study PADDs and miscellaneous paraphernalia. Once they were inside the elevator, she activated the controls to carry them up to the seventh floor of the dormitory. After exiting the lift, they walked down a corridor decorated in the grey color scheme so familiar to Icheb from his days on Voyager. Halfway down the hallway, she stopped in front of a doorway and pointed to a series of metal plates on its surface. Below the names "Sanchez, Tana, and Verit," he saw a slightly shinier piece with "Hansen" etched into it. After Icheb pressed his hand on the touchpad beneath the nameplate, the door swished open, allowing entry into a spacious room brightly lit by the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows which formed its exterior wall.

He gestured for Verit to walk through the doorway before him. As soon as he stepped inside and set his bags down on the floor, the door swished closed behind him. "There is no need for a male cadet to wait for a female one to enter a room at the Academy, Cadet Hansen."

While Icheb briefly considered explaining he'd merely wanted to avoid blocking her entrance if his bags got stuck in the doorway, he thought better of it. Even though it happened to be the truth, it sounded like a feeble excuse. Wordlessly accepting her reproof, Icheb looked away from her and examined their surroundings more closely. The space was comfortably furnished with a good-sized table and six chairs, two double desks, a couple of easy chairs, and a couch which looked exactly like the ones in the lounge area of Voyager's mess hall. Standard Starfleet issue, Icheb thought with amusement. Each side wall was pierced in the center by a small alcove, flanked on either side by square pieces of molding surrounding an empty glass pane. Icheb wondered if the occupants were allowed to post some sort of artwork inside the molding.

His companion interrupted Icheb's train of thought. "Your bed chamber is through that doorway, to the left. Cadet Austin Sanchez occupies the room to the right. As he will remind you often, he comes from the Great State of Texas, which is located along the Gulf Coast of this continent. Our other suitemate is Cadet Tana Farys. She is Bajoran. Are you familiar with the naming conventions of that world?"

"I am, Cadet Verit. I lived with Bajorans on Voyager."

"Good. She will inform you if she wishes to be addressed as Cadet Tana, or simply by her given name of Farys. And you may omit the term 'cadet' when addressing me, Cadet Hansen."

"In that case, please call me Icheb. I'm used to it. Until recently, I had no other designation."

She regarded him intently for a moment. Icheb returned her scrutiny, since he really didn't know what else to say anyway. Verit was pretty, although Icheb didn't think she was as beautiful as Asil. If she turned out to be as easy to speak with as Asil, however, Icheb thought they could become friends. Her coloring was similar to Ensign Vorik's, with pale skin, inky black eyes, and very dark hair, cut short, with straight bangs over her eyebrows. Once their mutual inspection ended, Verit nodded coolly to Icheb and walked towards one of the desks. Taking a seat, she picked up the PADD lying there and began to read.

As Icheb dragged the bags he'd brought with him through the door she'd indicated, he decided she must know a lot more about his history than he did about hers. That wasn't surprising. A few feature stories had been published about the young Brunali male, rescued from the Borg by the crew of Voyager, who had arrived on that ship when it returned triumphantly to Earth.

When Icheb saw his bedchamber for the first time, he was strongly reminded of Voyager's crew quarters. A narrow bunk was positioned at the short side of the room. Along the far side, he saw a built-in dresser, a closet, and a small sink. Another door, to the right of the sink, led into a sanitary cubicle and the bathing room he knew he was to share with Cadet Sanchez. He noticed the twin of the molding-flanked glass panel on his left. When he played with a small knob next to it, he saw that it was, in fact, a window that opened onto the living area. The knob controlled its opacity. He was able to clear his view completely, to see Verit reading at the desk, or leave it blank, the way it was on its other side. With another setting, he could view an imitation star field, either stationary or moving as if he were standing inside a starship. In the corner next to the window, a small desk and matching chair were positioned. A computer terminal rested on the desk's surface. A bank of shelves designed to hold small objects such as PADDs rose on the wall above the desk.

It was a small but efficient living space. He approved of its design. Anyone leaving this chamber for a first assignment on a space-going vessel such as Voyager would be accustomed to the type of quarters a junior officer was likely to be provided on their new ship.

It didn't take very long for Icheb to put everything he had away. He hadn't acquired much in the way of civilian-type clothing as of yet. In fact, he possessed far more PADDs with research data stored inside them than anything else. On the center of the shelf above the one holding his collection of PADDs, Icheb carefully placed the paper book Aunt Irene had just sent to him. Her daughter had told her how much Icheb had admired the original when he was given the privilege of viewing it at the Danish Royal Library. Inside the flyleaf of this reproduction of the Copenhagen Psalter, Aunt Irene had written:

Dearest Icheb. Welcome to the Hansen family! I hope you'll keep this book as a memento of your first visit to your cousins in Scandinavia. Come back to see us whenever you can.

Love always, Aunt Irene.

=/\=

If Icheb thought the rest of their suitemates would be as calm and self-contained as Verit, he quickly discovered his mistake. Cadet Tana Farys reminded him of a more self-confident Tal Celes. She had a strong but bubbly personality. Verit's comment that Cadet Austin Sanchez would remind everyone that he was from the Great State of Texas "often" turned out to be very astute. He was also extremely friendly and generous towards his suitemates, as well as just about everyone else he met. On the first night, Austin threw a "welcome, Icheb" party for what he described as his closest friends. Twenty other cadets showed up.

Before arriving on campus, Icheb decided that if asked about why he came back to live on Voyager after his brief return to Brunal, he would provide the same explanation he had given to the Antarean Ambassador O'Zaal, about having become "used to living in space." He never did get the chance to tell that story before the truth came out. While the four suitemates were having supper, before the party guests were due to arrive, Austin and Farys asked him about his experiences as a Borg. "How come you were assimilated, but your biological parents weren't?" Austin asked.

Icheb tried to recall the details of the story Leucon had foisted upon Seven, only to discover he didn't remember enough for that explanation to make sense. When he mentioned being alone in a small transport vessel when he was captured, Farys said she didn't understand how he happened to be alone. "Where were you going? If your ship was so small, you couldn't have been on a trading mission, could you?"

He looked over at Verit. While she hasn't asked him any questions, her eyes were boring into his in the same way Commander Tuvok's always had whenever Icheb had flubbed a response to a question during their tutoring sessions. Farys' befuddlement and Austin's obvious disbelief were even more evident than the Vulcan cadet's silent chastisement.

Icheb gave up and told them the real story. All of it, from the beginning, when he first woke up, alone on a Borg cube with no memory of his past life, having to cope with a thousand Borg corpses by himself; to when the captain transported him back onto Voyager when the Borg were going to assimilate him for the second time.

"How could your parents do something like that to you?" Farys cried out, when Icheb paused in his recitation.

Icheb sighed before answering her. "I've turned this over and over in my mind many times. I've talked it over with Seven, who was also rescued from the Borg and is now my mother, and with Lieutenant Paris, the chief helmsman of Voyager. My adoptive mother Seven is very bitter about what they did to me -- almost as bitter as she is towards her parents for deliberately putting her in the path of the Borg. Mr. Paris has been more helpful. He's tried to provide me with some perspective on this. Honestly, it's hard for me to even think about it, but sometimes I can't stop myself. Having seen what the Borg did to my native planet, the only answer I have is that they were so desperate, they'd try anything, even sacrificing one of their children, to stop the Borg from raiding them anymore."  

"But why did your parents sacrifice you in particular?" Farys asked.

"I can't answer that, Farys. When they were about to send me to the Borg for the second time, Yifay said I was important to them, although I didn't know why. But then she injected me with a sedative and put me to sleep without telling me the reason. It's possible I wasn't the only Brunali child given this treatment. Maybe a lot of us were, but my parents were the ones brave enough to actually send me into the path of a Borg cube."

Austin snorted. "Brave? I don't think so, sending their child to be assimilated like that. If they'd made that change in their own DNA and sent themselves to the Borg to be assimilated, maybe then I'd agree with you about their bravery."

"I once asked Mr. Paris about why they simply didn't give everyone on the planet this mutation, so if any of them were assimilated, the Borg would die from it. He said if the Borg figured out the source of the pathogen, they might simply go to Brunal and blow the planet and all its inhabitants to smithereens so it couldn't happen again. That might be why."

Verit, who up to now had remained silent throughout Icheb's story, said quietly, "Sacrificing one person instead of the many is logical, but to do it secretly, without even informing the one sacrificed or allowing him or her to choose to do this -- that is not. You do not appear to condemn your parents for doing this to you without your knowledge. Is that, in fact, true?"

Icheb smiled up at her. "It depends on the day of the week, I guess. Sometimes I'm very bitter about it. At other times, I'm glad Seven's parents didn't protect her, either, so she was on Voyager when my Children's Collective needed to be saved." He shook his head. "I had another story to tell you that wasn't exactly a lie, but it left out so much, it was as good as one. You can see how long it's taken me to tell you the story, and it's just about as painful for you to hear it as it is for me to tell it. I'd appreciate it if we keep this just between the four of us. It may all come out eventually, but it would be nice to try and forget it while I'm here with you."

They all murmured their agreement. When the crowd started arriving, Austin took on the role of host, introducing Icheb to all of his friends, keeping the party lively and the conversation superficial. The subject of how Icheb became Borg never seemed to come up.

At the end of the evening, when the last of the boisterous guests had slipped away to go to their own suites for the rest of the night, and after Farys and Austin had retired to their bedchambers, Icheb sighed in relief and sat down on the couch next to Verit. She leaned over and said softly, "It is most gratifying to find another suitemate who is as willing to listen to others as he is to express himself in a loud and raucous manner."

"Have I expressed myself in a loud and raucous manner?"

"No, you have not. It is refreshing. The suitemate you replaced was Andorian. Thirin was very intelligent and capable, but his manner of stating opinions was often -- loud and raucous."

"What happened to this Thirin?"

"He decided Starfleet wasn't for him after all. He went home in the middle of the last semester. I trust you will not come to a similar conclusion."

"Verit, I lived on Voyager for a year and a half. All of my closest friends were on that ship. Once I was accepted as a cadet, I served in many capacities, almost as many as I would have if I had actually been one of its assigned crew. I learned then that a career in Starfleet was my destiny."

"Then I truly welcome you to Starfleet Academy, Cadet Icheb. As the Klingons say, may your career be glorious."

=/\=

The day after Icheb's move into Archer Hall, Icheb established his final schedule for the spring and summer sessions. One requirement he'd already fulfilled was the sophomore field study tour on a starship or a space station. The letter sent to him placing him with the second year cadets confirmed this. "Your diverse assignments on USS Voyager since your formal acceptance as a cadet has already provided you with a variety of practical experiences in a Starfleet setting, the intent of the program." The list of other classes which were to be waived included Stellar Cartography 101, the freshman classes in Astrophysics and Engineering required of those planning to major in those fields, Basic Warp Theory and Design, and Elementary Temporal Mechanics. Commander Tuvok's physical training program was also deemed sufficient for Icheb to move directly into the first level of Basic Hand-to-Hand Combat, rather than needing to take a semester devoted to physical preparation. When Icheb recalled Tom's love for Sandrine's and Marseilles, the city in which he spent that semester, he was sorry he wouldn't have an opportunity to spend time on that campus.

In addition to Transporter Theory and Biochemistry I, the two freshman classes he needed to take, Icheb elected to begin the introductory course in Medicine he would need for certification as a field medic. His choices of classes for the rest of his schedule, however, would depend largely upon the major he would declare. This was an important, yet difficult decision. While he had enjoyed working in Engineering with B'Elanna's staff, the sciences were his true passion. He accepted that his experiences with Seven in Astrometrics, as well as his friendship with Tom Paris, influenced him, but how he came to make this choice was immaterial. Icheb was confident this was the track he was meant to pursue.

After he'd made his decision and officially declared Astrophysics as his major, Professor Chapman, the  head of the Engineering Department, passed him in the hallway and shook his head sadly. Icheb assured him that since he was "interested in becoming well-versed in many subjects," he'd take as many electives as he could in Professor Chapman's discipline.

Icheb decided he needed to speak with Admiral Kempton about his decision, too. He'd been eager for Icheb to become a physician, but that would have involved an additional year of study at Starfleet Medical Academy after graduation from the undergraduate program. Icheb contacted the admiral's secretary and asked for an appointment. The secretary told Icheb to "come over now. The admiral is eager to hear what major you've chosen." Icheb decided he might as well because waiting wouldn't make it any easier to tell the admiral his news.

Admiral Kempton expressed disappointment when Icheb told him he'd chosen to major in Astrophysics. After Icheb explained he planned on going for field medic certification, however, the admiral was somewhat mollified. Seeing this response, Icheb was encouraged to ask if he could continue doing some genetics research "on the side," as independent study. Admiral Kempton's demeanor brightened immediately. "Of course. We're planning a seminar in the subject for advanced students for the fall semester. From your accomplishments in that field, I'm sure you'll fit right in with the group. The other students would benefit from your participation, given your vast practical experience in genetic resequencing."

After he left Starfleet Medical, Icheb visited Professor Reagan in his office. "Congratulations on making a very wise choice, young man!" But when the professor saw how many classes Icheb planned to take in other disciplines, he groused, good-naturedly, "I see I'm going to have to share you with my colleagues, Cadet!"

Icheb shrugged his shoulders, smiling, as he replied, "I have a wide range of interests, Professor. I hope I won't prove to be a disappointment to you in Astrophysics."

Professor Reagan laughed, "I have no concerns about that at all, Cadet. I'm glad I'll have the pleasure of seeing you in my classes. When you're choosing your schedule though, remember, your major field of study is mine!"

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

The same week Icheb began classes, Seven and the newly-minted (finally!) Lieutenant j.g. Harry Kim began to work as co-leaders on the Delta Flyer Project. The admirals who had inspected the Delta Flyer II were greatly impressed by its maneuverability and durability. As one rear admiral noted, "If the prototype held up under Borg bombardment as long as reported, I'd feel a lot safer traveling in one of them than the shuttles we've been flying."

Seven pointedly noted that, "The Delta Flyer's primary creators were Lieutenant Paris and Lieutenant Torres. They should be the ones in charge."

Since both were still residing on Voyager, waiting for the fate of the Maquis to be announced, the Research and Development people were forced to admit they could not name them to lead the project -- yet. When Seven explained her involvement to Icheb during their regular comm chat, she told him she'd accepted the position on one condition. :::If the Maquis are cleared of the charges against them, and if Lieutenants Paris and Torres are reinstated, I must be allowed to step down. They're the ones who should lead this project. Lieutenant Kim insisted on the same condition of employment. I don't believe the R&D personnel were upset with us. They know who the best-qualified people are.:::

"You'll do a great job, Seven, but. . . " Icheb paused, since he wasn't sure how to put the rest.

Seven correctly interpreted the reason for his hesitation and rescued him. :::I trust they will become my superiors on the project very shortly. In the meantime, we will initiate work on the project. I've already nominated Lieutenant Kim to be our liaison with the R&D personnel and to be the one to report on our progress. He's shown the ability to deal diplomatically with such people in the past. I have not. I doubt I ever shall.:::

Icheb smiled but said nothing. He had to agree with her assessment of the situation. Icheb had no trouble visualizing the way she "nominated" Harry to be the liaison, either. Seven was fantastically talented and fiercely dedicated to the efficient completion of all of her assigned tasks. All, that is, except one. Tactfully dealing with authority figures was the one thing she'd never done well. Seven was terrible at it, and she had no interest at all in improving her skills in that area, either.

Icheb had suggested once that they take Academy courses together so she could become a Starfleet officer, too. She'd been quite emphatic in her refusal. Icheb had to admit that Seven's current position of civilian consultant was a much better fit.

And good luck, Harry, Icheb thought wryly. You'll need it.

=/\=

Several days later, Lieutenant Barclay invited Seven and Harry Kim to visit the Starfleet Communications Center, where Project Pathfinder and Project Watson were housed, so they could visit with Neelix during the Project Watson communication window. Seven asked if Icheb could come, too. Lieutenant Barclay said he could and cleared it with Admiral Paris.

Icheb was relieved when he discovered the timing would work out perfectly for him. He'd finish his last class that morning, go on the visit, have lunch, and be able to return to campus for his final two classes of the day. Icheb was eager to see Seven, since it would be the first time Icheb would have the chance to visit with her since his move to Archer Hall. He'd spoken with her over the comm system almost every day, but that wasn't the same thing as spending time with her in person. Once their eleven minute visit with Neelix was concluded, she promised they'd go to a nice restaurant. Harry had invited Reg Barclay to join them for lunch.

Neither Seven nor Harry had had an opportunity to visit the Communications Center before this. On the day Lieutenant Barclay brought him to meet Boothby, the Academy gardener, Icheb had been given the "grand tour." The guard at the reception area desk remembered Icheb from that other day, however, and she contacted Lieutenant Barclay to come down to meet his visitors even before Harry identified which staff person they'd come to see. Seven and Harry both claimed a connection to Pathfinder and this building, since some of the suggestions the two had made to fine tune the way the datastream was bounced back and forth to the Delta Quadrant had led to Project Watson, making daily, real time contact with Voyager possible.

"Welcome, welcome!" Lieutenant Barclay said enthusiastically, as the trio exited the turbolift on the Project Pathfinder floor. "We'll be able to make contact with Talax II in just thirty-six minutes. Let me bring you around on that tour I promised you, before it's time for our interstellar chat with Neelix."

Icheb tagged along, even though Mr. Barclay had already taken him on the tour. Reg had barely started his tour guide spiel, however, when Admiral Paris waved to the group. "It's good to see you all again. Please, come into my office. I'd like to get your opinion about something. Reg, make sure the door is completely shut behind you once you're inside."

Icheb was the first one through the door. While everyone shuffled inside the admiral's office, he glanced around at his surroundings and noticed a shelf above the admiral's desk, with several framed images resting upon it. One was of Mrs. Paris in a formal evening gown, looking quite glamorous. Pictures of the admiral's two daughters and their husbands, as well as one of Tom, B'Elanna, and little Miral, were also part of the grouping.

There was one framed picture on the admiral's desk of a very young Thomas E. Paris, dressed in his cadet uniform. Icheb had the feeling that one had been sitting on the admiral's desk for many years, possibly since he'd first learned his son had been reported lost in the Badlands. In fact, that image of Tom, taken in happier days, may have been placed on the admiral's desk years before Tom walked the decks of Voyager for the first time. As Icheb settled into one of the seats around the conference table in the admiral's office, he remembered a conversation he'd had with Tom after Icheb discovered his parents' duplicity. Tom told him that no one, even parents, are perfect. Icheb had always thought the admiral was very stern, but seeing that picture brought it all home to Icheb. Even when they were butting heads all the time during Tom's childhood and adolescence, Owen Paris had always loved his son.

Once the admiral took his own seat, he addressed the group. "Thank you all for consenting to this change in your itinerary. Some important information has become available, and I'd like to hear your opinion about it. Since it pertains to a message Ambassador Neelix sent me, I wanted to show it to you before your chat with Ambassador Neelix takes place. As you'll see, Neelix recommended we not discuss this openly during the Project Watson chat, and I concur with his recommendation. The message arrived yesterday through the compressed datastream part of the transmission. A few days ago, Lieutenant Barclay advised him of your planned visit here. I suspect that accounts for Neelix's timing. He wants me to share it with you."

The admiral activated the viewscreen on his wall, and Neelix's message appeared.

:::Admiral Paris, Lieutenant Barclay, I wanted to alert you to what I believe is vital information which I've obtained from our trading partners. I'm sending it to you this way, rather than during our normal communications window, because I don't want to take up a great deal of our Project Watson time giving you this report. I also believe it's better to limit the number of people who'll have access to this information until you feel comfortable enough about its veracity to decide to release it.

:::Several captains in this sector have reported finding very large debris fields which appear to be comprised of the remains of Borg vessels. From the estimated mass of the fragments, several must be all that's left of some very large cubes. The size of one suggests it's the remains of a Class 4 Tactical Cube, like the one Captain Janeway, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, and Lieutenant Torres invaded when that Unimatrix Zero matter came up. No one has reported hearing of any attacks to account for all this destruction. They haven't found any living drones in these debris fields, either, although several small Borg scout ships and spheres have been observed in this area. None of the small ships have made any aggressive moves. In fact, one Borg scout ship contacted a colleague of Captain Nocona's and asked her if he could gain access to a medical facility. He needed to obtain care for several of the drones on his vessel who were gravely ill.

:::Now, I know Borg nanoprobes generally cure most drone illnesses. The fact I'm speaking to you right now is a testament to that, since Seven literally brought me back from the dead with nanoprobes she took from her own body to resurrect me. Apparently the nanoprobes of these drones aren't healing the way they should. Another very interesting thing about this contact was the drone speaking with Captain Nocona's friend said he wasn't part of the Collective. He claimed everyone on his scout ship belonged to the Borg Resistance Movement initiated by Captain Janeway during the Unimatrix Zero action. I asked Captain Nocona more about this drone who was speaking with his friend. The drone identified himself as an individual named Sarin. This drone wasn't Captain Korok, the Klingon who helped us retrieve the captain, Tuvok, and B'Elanna. I met him when he came on board to meet with Commander Chakotay, Seven, and Icheb. Captain Nocona told me his friend directed Sarin to a planet which has advanced medical facilities . . . and Sarin thanked her! I found that to be as astonishing as anything else Captain Nocona reported.

:::We haven't had contact on Talax II with any Borg drones, freed from the Queen's control or otherwise. From the information you shared with me about Voyager's wild trip through the Transwarp Conduit to reach Earth, it's possible this is evidence that the Borg are in a very bad way. I'm not sure exactly what to think, actually, but I thought you should receive what I had as soon as I'd accumulated sufficient documentation to confirm what I've been told. The separate file I'm sending through the datastream contains all the information they've relayed to me in the past week about these fields: their location, composition, density of debris, direction of drift, calculations of mass, etc., along with any other small pieces of data that have come my way.

:::I will, of course, share anything else I learn about this situation as soon as it comes to me. Unless you tell me otherwise in a return message, I'll continue to send what I discover to you using this method, not in an open communication during Project Watson.

:::Ambassador Neelix, signing off.:::

When Neelix's message was over, Admiral Paris checked the chronometer on his wall. "I'd like to discuss this matter with you in some depth, but we only have a few minutes to get to the viewscreen before our connection with Neelix is due to begin. I know you were planning on going to lunch after your chat with our ambassador. Would you mind coming back to my office and ordering lunch to be delivered here? As my guests, of course. Ms. Hansen, Cadet Icheb, you're our Borg experts. Your assessment of how accurate his assumptions were about the size of these Borg vessels, judging from the volume of the remains, would be extremely valuable as we consider our response and what to advise Neelix and his partners."

Everyone accepted Admiral Paris' suggestion. As the group trooped out, Icheb's disappointment must have showed on his face. He'd been looking forward to having a casual chat with his mother, Harry, and Lieutenant Barclay in a nice restaurant. Even though he was curious about the data Neelix had sent, he wasn't in the mood for a working lunch, if for no other reason than he feared this would make him late for his last two classes of the day. As the group walked up the steps to the viewing area, Admiral Paris came beside Icheb and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Cadet. I'll make sure the next time you have a nice meal planned with your mother, it will be an exceptionally fine one."

That turned out to be an easy promise for the admiral to fulfill. The news Neelix shared during his Project Watson time would send Lieutenant Barclay into a frenzy of preparation to set up a formal dinner party. This wasn't going to be another "Welcome Home, Voyager" bash, either. It was to be a wedding reception.

And fortunately, Icheb also managed to make it to his last two classes in time.

=/\=

Stardate 55055 was a very happy day for the crew of Voyager. Even though the wedding of the Federation Ambassador to the Delta Quadrant and his Dexa had to fit into an eleven minute, seven second Project Watson communication window, the majority of Voyager's crew could attend. Neelix and his bride couldn't be physically present at their own wedding reception dinner, of course, any more than their friends could congratulate them in person; but they were delighted to share their big day with their friends in the Alpha Quadrant in any way they could, considering the distances involved.

Once the ceremony was over, the audience showered the bride and groom with good wishes until the window closed. The festivities continued for several hours, however. Everyone agreed the ceremony, though brief, was beautiful. The reception afterwards was appreciated by Voyager's crew for another reason. As Tom noted, "No long welcoming speeches! No politicians or admirals offering platitudes! It's just a great party with our friends, honoring another friend on one of the best days of his life!" From the way Tom gazed at B'Elanna while he proclaimed this, Icheb suspected Tom was also referring to another wedding held not quite a year ago. When Icheb thought of that ceremony, he felt a little pang. Mezoti was still with them that day. Icheb was sad that Mezoti was unlikely ever to know about Neelix's new home or family.

Lieutenant Barclay had arranged for other Pathfinder staffers to record the reception that was held in the happy couple's honor. The visual message would be sent to Neelix and Dexa over the next day's datastream. Icheb and Naomi asked to make a special recording for Brax, welcoming him into the Voyager Family. "I'm so happy for you, Brax. Neelix is my godfather and honorary uncle. He's just the best, so I know he'll be a great father to you." As Naomi said this she was smiling as brightly as she could. Once the staff person recording the message had moved on, however, she broke down in tears. Icheb held her and comforted her as best he could. "I miss him so much," she sobbed, "but he looks so happy. I'm glad for him, too."

"I'm glad for all of them," Icheb replied gently. "They deserve all the happiness they can get."

Icheb noted that Tom's prediction about the "Equinox Five" turned out to be true. They had been invited to attend this social function, and all of them were there. Icheb didn't care if their presence helped to disguise the true nature of their resignations from Starfleet. He was glad to see them. Marla didn't stay too long, since Aimee needed to get to bed, but, as she said to Icheb after the ceremony, "I couldn't miss this chance for Neelix to see how much she's grown!" Baby Miral was in attendance during the ceremony, too, but after the hors d'oeuvre part of the reception was over, and once the staff filming the party had time to capture her likeness with her parents and grandparents, Tom's mother and father brought her to their home for the night. Tom and B'Elanna were going have a "night off" from child care. Icheb didn't need to be told the pair would have their own private celebration once they reached their quarters on Voyager. Since there still hadn't been a decision announced regarding the fate of the Maquis, all of them had to return to the ship at the end of the reception.

Icheb had an early class in the morning and couldn't stay too late, either. Before he left the hall where the dinner was being held, however, he saw Tom standing alone in a hallway outside of the main room. Icheb was surprised to see Tom had a thoughtful, almost sad look on his face. When Icheb approached him and asked him if anything was the matter, Tom shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and said off-handedly, "Oh, nothing much."

Icheb knew that answer should be translated as 'yes.' "Are you sure, Tom?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders again, but the smile faded from his face as he admitted, "Dad said you were with him when he showed Neelix's message about the Borg to Seven and Harry."

"Yes, I was. Is that why you seem so . . . pensive?"

That made Tom chuckle like he usually did. "Pensive? I don't always joke around you know, Cadet Hansen." He sighed. "I have been thinking a lot lately about the Borg and what seems to have happened to them. I'd already accepted we were responsible for the death of a lot of enslaved people from the way all of those cubes blew up around us. Now it looks like it wasn't only in the conduit. And whenever I think about this, all those temporal shenanigans we were involved with seem tied into this somehow. It's not just the Admiral Janeway connection I'm talking about. I can't shake the thought that our excursion to 20^th century Southern California is part of it. I've asked myself over and over if the reason we had to return to the Delta Quadrant after our confrontation with Henry Starling ended was because the Federation Temporal Police meant for all this to happen."

"You mean because you went back to where you were when the whole temporal thing began?"

"Exactly. From all we know about temporal anomalies, people don't know anything about what really happened to them once it's over, but our memories are all intact to this day. The Doc was permitted to keep his 29^th century mobile emitter. That's definitely not supposed to happen. Instead of just being returned to our own century but in orbit around Earth -- which would have been easy for Captain Braxton to do -- we were sent back to the place where we'd been in the Delta Quadrant when the rift first drew us in."

"It's lucky for me you did come back. If you'd been sent directly to Earth in this time frame, you wouldn't have met Seven. You wouldn't have known anything about Species 8472. And if you weren't around to rescue us, the 'Borglet' Collective, including me, would have died along with First when our cube exploded."

Tom glanced up at the stationary image on the screen in the room where the reception was being held, showing the happy bridal couple with their son. He sighed and nodded his head. "And Neelix would have come all the way with us to the Alpha Quadrant, the lone Talaxian, trying to find a way to fit in. Kes would have been with him then, but only for a little while -- not much more than a year. He was still a bit of a con man back in those days. But we went back to the Delta Quadrant, and Neelix learned a lot of lessons after that which he's putting into practice now. He's making a difference by helping his own people on Talax II, and he finally has a chance for a happy family life with Dexa and Brax. You're right, Icheb. If our journey had been cut short, lots of things wouldn't have happened. Some of our crew who didn't make it home because of those extra four and a half years would still be alive. But to balance things out, others would have died instead, like Aimee, Mezoti, the twins, and you."

"I've heard people say 'some things are just meant to be.' Maybe this is one of them," Icheb responded.

Tom answered, "Maybe so. Well, I guess I've pondered this question enough for one night. I'd better get back to B'Elanna. Don't want to miss our 'date,' now that my parents have taken Miral for the night. My mother has been itching to get her hands on our daughter for weeks. She wants to spoil her rotten!" The words were jaunty, but Tom was quieter than usual as they approached the table where B'Elanna was sitting and chatting with Chakotay. Seven sat there, listening to their conversation without contributing to what they were saying.

After a very brief conversation with the others, Icheb bent down to give Seven a quick kiss on the cheek. "Don't imbibe too much of that synthehol, now, Mom," he said jokingly.

"Thank you for that advice, Icheb. It's a little late. If I'd indulged, everyone in this room would be very aware of it." She smiled warmly at him and patted him on the cheek. Icheb could tell something was bothering her, and it wasn't the fact that she was sticking to seltzer or that he was  leaving the party to get to his dorm.

Archer Hall wasn't far away by transporter, but Icheb took his time walking to the transit point. He had a lot to think over: about temporal displacements and anomalies; split second decisions that could lead to life or death; chance meetings that took on enormous importance later on, although no one realized it when it happened; and, especially, why his adoptive mother seemed sad at such a happy occasion as a wedding. He wasn't sure how to bring up what he'd sensed, or even if he should. He decided it would be better if he let her come to him. Really, maybe it was nothing. He could be imagining something was wrong when nothing was. Unfortunately, he had trouble believing that.

When Icheb arrived home, one of his suitemates was waiting for him. She was sitting on the couch in front of the exterior windows, gazing into the distance. The fog had rolled in from the sea, but the San Francisco skyline hadn't been completely erased. The mist transformed the lights of the city into a many-hued abstract work of art. It was beautiful -- and illusory.

The future might be something like this, Icheb decided. It was shrouded in obscurity. You had to traverse it, and you might think you knew the lay of the land, but did you really? You might not know when you've arrived at your ultimate destination because you don't recognize it once you've gotten up close. Too many variables.

But all he said when Verit asked him if he'd had a nice time was, "It was great."

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 55073.4  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

The fate of the Maquis was finally announced today. I'm so relieved. They all received pardons from the Federation president for any actions taken against the Cardassians. Admiral Paris told us Starfleet and the Federation Council had insisted upon this from the beginning. Since crimes were committed on all sides during the conflict, dropping the pending charges was the only sane way to settle things. Otherwise, the trials could go on for years. Even the Cardassians said they wanted it all over and done with. One exception was made, however. A charge of genocide could not be made against any of the Maquis, although they still could be made against some Breen and Cardassian individuals. When I heard this, I understood the Equinox Five were lucky they'd been dealt with so secretively.

The reason it took so long for the decision to be announced was the Cardassian government's reluctance to release all of the Maquis prisoners they were still holding. They claimed they didn't have any in custody, but a Bajoran special forces group unearthed proof that a substantial number of Maquis remained in a prison in the Gamma Quadrant. When the evidence was presented to the Federation Council, the Cardassians finally gave in. The Maquis have been repatriated. The pardons were announced once the released prisoners reached Bajor.

So, if the Cardassian agent Seska, who pretended to be Bajoran when she entered Chakotay's Maquis cell, had still been alive, she probably would have gotten off, too. B'Elanna's still bitter about her. She thought Seska was her friend and felt betrayed when Seska's true identity was revealed.

The agreement covered all the Maquis in custody, including those who were in Federation prisons. Chakotay has already made arrangements to visit his friend Sveta. She'll be released from the same prison in New Zealand where Tom was incarcerated before Captain Janeway had him placed in her custody for "just a few weeks." This also means that some Maquis who are still in hiding may be able to come out into the open. Tom's mother knows several from her charity work on Bajor.

I was glad to hear there was one other pardon issued. Tom's general discharge from Caldik Prime has been expunged. That clears the way for him to return as a regular Starfleet officer. He's already put in his request for reinstatement. He wrote it up while he was waiting to hear if he'd be allowed back in. B'Elanna says that she'll sign up again, too, as long as they waive her last two years of Starfleet Academy classes. I can't imagine having B'Elanna in one of my Engineering classes. She could teach them! Seven told me she's pretty sure Starfleet will agree, based on her extensive practical experience as chief engineer of a Starfleet vessel.

Seven told me that as soon as their parental leaves end, she expects B'Elanna and Tom to join the Delta Flyer shuttle project. The group is adapting the Delta Flyer to become the new standard shuttle for all Starfleet vessels. Starfleet Command was really impressed with how strong and useful they would be, compared to the shuttles they've been using. If B'Elanna doesn’t reenlist, Seven expects they'll hire her as a civilian consultant anyway, which is Seven's official title. She promised to let me visit their work site during my spring break. Since I have experience working on the construction of the Delta Flyer II, they might let me participate while I'm there. I'd love to work with my mother and my friends again, even if it's only for a few days.

One thing I'm a little sad about. Tuvok, T'Pel, and Asil are leaving for Vulcan tomorrow. I want Tuvok to be healed, of course, but I was hoping to spend a little more time with Asil than I've been able to, as busy as I've been with my classes. She told me I should visit Vulcan if I get the chance -- eventually. She anticipates she will be helping restore her father's health for the next several months -- maybe even longer. Her mother tried to convince Tuvok to go to Vulcan long before the pardons were announced, but he refused. He said he had to testify on behalf of many of the crew, and he didn't want to leave until he knew if his recommendations had been accepted by the authorities.

Asil also told me something which I'm not supposed to tell anyone else (although Tom knows). Her father had looked into the records of what happened at Caldik Prime some time ago, before Tuvok's mental state deteriorated. He noted that Tom was seriously injured in the crash himself, which I hadn't known before. When he made his false statements, Tom hadn't fully recovered physically or, possibly, psychologically. Commander Tuvok insisted on testifying in person when Tom's pardon was discussed. Perhaps his current condition made him more sensitive to issues of mental capacity, but Tuvok suggested that Tom may have been suffering from memory issues and/or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder at the time he made his initial statements. There is no indication in the court records these possibilities were considered when Tom was thrown out of Starfleet, although he came forward voluntarily to "correct the record." Tuvok believed they should have been. I would like to think that Tuvok's insistence on testifying helped Tom gain his pardon. Knowing this only increases the respect I have for my former tutor. If the opportunity ever presents itself, I would be happy to serve under him.

Chakotay is free to petition for reinstatement, but he hasn't told Seven whether or not he's going to do that as of yet. He isn't sure of his future path. Unfortunately, I visited Voyager one day to speak with the Maquis who are still on board, and I walked in on them in Borg Central while they were in the midst of a nasty argument. I wanted to slink away, but Seven told me I should just stand near the door. I heard every word of what was said, and it wasn't pretty.

Chakotay told her he wants to "explore his options" before deciding whether or not to return to Starfleet. I think the main reason Seven got so upset was that he said he's leaving in two days to visit his sister for a couple of weeks to talk over these options with her. Apparently he once told Seven he never wanted to be more than a "transporter trip away" from her, but he hadn't even mentioned this trip to her before he made his travel arrangements. When he saw her reaction, he told her she could come with him. Since her son is living on the Academy campus, she didn't need to worry about me. I don't think she liked the way he phrased that, even if it was basically true, because that's when she became really angry. His suggestion to come with him was an empty gesture anyway, since he's perfectly aware that she must stay in the Sol system for the foreseeable future because of the Delta Flyer project. When Seven reminded him of this (with a sneer, I must admit), Chakotay suggested the real reason she wants to stay is because she's attracted to Harry. Very coldly, she informed him that Harry is living with Libby Byrd, his old fiancée, who was widowed in the Dominion War. That was when Chakotay went a step too far. He said it didn't mean she wasn't still attracted to Harry.

Chakotay doesn't get mad often, but when he does, watch out! And I could say the same about Seven. She was . . . the best word is livid. If she still had an emotional inhibitor chip, she might have collapsed right there. She coiled her left fist (the Borg-enhanced one), but turned away from him instead. Chakotay stalked out after this, fortunately without saying anything else. I tried to have a pleasant visit with her after that, but it was awkward. Very awkward.

When I returned to campus I contacted Tom about what Seven had said about Harry. What I wished I could talk about was Seven's relationship with Chakotay -- but that subject, of course, was totally off limits for me to discuss with anyone other than the people who were in Borg Central during the argument.

Tom and B'Elanna know about Harry's current living situation, and they're appalled that Harry is involved with Libby again. They'd believed he'd outgrown her, but Harry's inability to develop a stable romantic relationship with anyone while on Voyager may have been the reason he's turned back to her now. Harry was friends with her late husband, and initially, he simply made a condolence call. Seeing her again reignited their romance. Tom told me Harry clung to the memory of Libby throughout the first year in the Delta Quadrant, which may have kept him from fully adapting to life on Voyager during that period. Worse, from B'Elanna's point of view, is the fact that Danny Byrd, Libby's husband, was B'Elanna's nemesis on Kessik IV during her early childhood years. Despite this, when Harry introduced Tom and B'Elanna to Libby, they tried to overlook the past and take her on her own merits.

Unfortunately, Libby spent most of the visit talking about was how wonderful it must have been for Tom to have an admiral for a father. He got the impression Libby was hoping to wrangle his help gaining an introduction to Admiral Paris. She said very little to B'Elanna at all, which annoyed B'Elanna. She suspects Libby's husband may have related stories about his Kessik IV days which painted B'Elanna in a very bad light. "Harry's just too nice for her, but he's so desperate for someone to love, he's gone back to someone who says she wants him. I think she just wants to be connected to the 'heroic crew of Voyager'  myself," Tom told me. In B'Elanna's opinion, Harry and Libby are "mok'tah," or "a bad match" in Klingon. I was glad to finish our conversation because this one was almost as awkward as the one in Borg Central had been.

If this is what "getting home" is like for everyone, I'm sure a lot of us are wondering if we weren't better off in the Delta Quadrant. I'm pretty torn. After what Admiral Janeway disclosed about what happened to "her" Icheb, I know I'm better off here, but it hurts to see how difficult the transition has been for so many others.

At least I'm happy at the Academy. My suitemates have welcomed me from the beginning. I feel comfortable with them all, but especially with Verit. I guess I have an affinity for Vulcans. She's majoring in a science, too, although in her case, it's Exobiology. Austin and Farys are Engineering majors. From speaking with some of the other cadets, I know I'm fortunate. Many of them have horror stories to tell about "the suitemate from Hell."

And I love going to class. Sitting in a lecture hall with a large group of students, studying with my suitemates -- it's such a change. I hardly ever experienced that before. Well, I did, for three days on Brunal. And maybe I did before the first time I was assimilated, too, but I don't remember that at all. Up until now, just about the only time I had a class with anyone else even close to my age was when Q Junior was on Voyager. He said he'd come see me at the Academy, and here I am. I wonder if the rest of the Continuum will let him get away from his father long enough to visit me? That would be quite an experience!

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

It was as if he'd conjured up Q by mentioning him in his log.

One afternoon after his last class, Icheb walked into his suite in Archer Hall to see Verit looking warily at a very familiar figure, dressed, as Icheb could have predicted, in the uniform of a senior cadet, with the insignia of the elite Red Squadron on his uniform.

"Itchy!" Q Junior called out.

"Are you familiar with this individual?" Verit asked Icheb, giving him the benefit of her most piercing glare.

While Icheb would have liked to say otherwise, he admitted, "I am."

"I will leave and give you privacy to renew your acquaintance," she replied icily, and stalked out of the common living room and into her personal bedchamber.

"Q! What have you been saying to Verit? I've never seen her act like this before."

"Well, I might have been . . . coming on to her a little bit. She's very pretty. I don't suppose you've noticed, have you, Icheb? Are there many around like her, but, uh, friendlier, if you know what I mean?"

"Don't you get enough action when you're traveling with your old man?"

"That's no reason to ignore any other opportunities that may come my way."

Icheb sighed. Leaving the PADD he was carrying on the dining table, he said, "Cadet Verit isn't an 'opportunity.' She happens to be betrothed to a young scientist on Vulcan and expects the marriage to occur sometime in the next seven years." Noticing a familiar gleam returning to Q's eyes, Icheb added, "And please note: as far as Verit is concerned, her betrothal is a form of marriage. She won't play with you, trust me. And yes, I have noticed. Verit is very attractive. My other female suitemate Tana Farys is also very attractive. If you're nice, she might be a little more receptive. She's between girlfriends at the moment."

"And your fourth roommate?"

"The term is suitemate, and Austin isn't your type. You might be able to convince him to go out on the town and show you the local places where he likes to socialize, though. He's got tons of contacts and seems to know just about everyone."

"Oh, Itchy, what about you? You're not still droning around, are you? Didn't I have any influence on you at all when I visited you on Voyager?"

Icheb sat down on the couch, laughing. "I'm too busy most nights to go on dates. I go out with other cadets in a group on the weekends, when my classwork is up-to-date. Since I'm not omniscient, I do have to keep up with my schoolwork."

"Point taken."

Icheb paused then and gazed critically at his unexpected guest. "And speaking of omniscience, how did you get away from your father? I thought you're supposed to be joined at the hip for all of eternity."

Q groaned dramatically. "Oh, I am, but I have a ringer who's agreed to take my place for a few days."

"A ringer?"

"My mother, actually. She's taken on my appearance. I hope she'll be able to keep up the charade long enough for me to have this little break with you. We tested it before I actually left, and she seemed to do a good enough job to keep him off-balance. It didn't seem like he recognized it was her, and not me, going off with him to the Moons of Peritzaz to check out the local wildlife. And those females really are wild and crazy! Putting up with that will be a real test for Mom."

Icheb's grin twisted ruefully. "You really are incorrigible, Q-Ball, you know that?"

"You remembered, Itchy! You haven't forgotten all our good times, have you?'

"You mean like stealing the Delta Flyer and getting zapped by an ersatz alien who turned out to be your father in disguise? Hard to forget something like that."

"And your sense of humor is improving, too! I'm impressed, Itchy."

"Q, I'd prefer you to call me Icheb, not Drone-Boy or Itchy."

"Well, what name do you think I should use while I'm here? I think the Q who committed suicide was called Quinn. If he hadn't done that, I might never have ended up being born -- but I don't think I want to use the same name he did."

"When Farys and Austin come in, we can talk it over. All my suitemates are very smart. Creative, too. We can come up with something."

=/\=

At first, when the five were having dinner, Q said he'd only nibble a bit, "just to be sociable, you understand. I don't usually eat anything, since I can control matter and energy on my own, you know." But, as the suitemates had decided on a "spicy/eclectic" meal that evening, Q began to do more than just sample the food. "Hesperat? That smells really interesting, Farys. And what's that you're eating, Austin? Tex-Mex? A burrito with verde sauce? It smells better than it looks. But wow! It tastes scrumptious!" Between mouthfuls of refried beans, pad Thai, and veklava, he eventually ate just as big a meal as any of the others had consumed. As they were ending their meal with a serving of iceberry torte topped with whipped cream, Q sheepishly admitted, "You people have developed some very tasty ways to ingest the matter your bodies require to transform into energy. This food is a lot better than the kitchen rat's on Voyager."

"Neelix. His name was Neelix, Q," Icheb gently reproved.

"Sorry. Neelix. His food was still pretty awful, though."

While Austin, Farys, and Verit had learned about the Continuum's existence during the course of their studies, they quickly discovered they were among a mere handful of people in the Alpha Quadrant who'd met a Q and were aware that they had. While "Dad" Q had shown himself to those on Voyager, to Picard and his Enterprise crew, and to the residents of Deep Space Nine, the Q generally disguised themselves as ordinary members of the races they encountered on planets they visited. Icheb took a back seat and let the others pepper their guest with questions about the Q. He felt it was only right, since he'd already had an opportunity to learn about them during the young Q's exile on Voyager (and more than he wanted to know about Q's father's capriciousness). When the subject turned to what name Q should use during his visit, however, Icheb voiced something he'd thought about before, but had never discussed previously with Q.

"How do you know which Q you're speaking about if you're all called Q? What if there are four of you conversing? How do you manage to keep everyone straight?"

"We always just know. Of course, they usually call me Junior, and I hate that."

"I don't think most 'Juniors' care for it much. We should agree on a name for you other than Junior. What about . . . Einstein? You certainly know a lot about e=mc² and all that, just from being you," Austin suggested.

"I don't think so. It isn't really 'me,' if you know what I mean."

After discussing several possibilities, including Galileo, Hawking, and Archimedes, they began to get a little silly. "What about Qupernicous? Or Quachrane? Hey, Quetzelcoatyl might work!" Austin added, laughing, "That was the name of an Aztec god. It would be perfect for a Q!"

"A god? Hmmm. Now, that's a name that might be worthy of a Q. But it's a little long, don't you think? Maybe we could shorten it to just Quetzal."

"A Quetzal is a bird that lives in Mexico and Central America," Verit pointed out. "While it's plumage is quite colorful, I'm not certain you'd desire an association with a member of an avian species, although they are quite intelligent. A name like Quinn, which begins with Q and is familiar to humans, might be more appropriate."

Q exchanged a glance with Icheb before replying, "Unfortunately, that one's already been taken, so it's not available. No others?"

"There's Queenie -- but that one's usually for a female. Couldn't you do a little gender bending?" Farys asked, looking hopeful.

"Um, no. Queenie has some very bad connotations. Too Borgish. Any other suggestions?"

"I've met people with the names of Earth cities," Farys answered. "There's Quito, and Quincy. Oh, and you could always go by Quasar. The name of a type of star would be perfect!"

"Quasar. No, I want to observe you here at the Academy. In order to do that, I'll need to fade into the background a little. I'm not sure that would be possible for a Quasar!"

"I'm not sure you'll ever be able to 'fade into the background' anyway, Q. I'm partial to Q-Ball myself, but I understand that would be just as bad as Quasar if you're trying to be less conspicuous. If you like, I can look up other names beginning with Q in the database." As Icheb began to get up from his seat, Austin suggested another possibility.

"I have a cousin in San Antonio named Quentin. There's also a variant, Quinton. Either one would sound pretty normal. No one would think it's odd or anything."

"Quinton. I actually kind of like the sound of that. It's unique, but in a way, it also honors my predecessor Quinn. Thanks. That's the one for me. I hope none of your professors notice me when I tag along with you to class, Icheb."

"Captain Janeway is teaching a class on the Borg this semester. Since she knows you, she may be able to come up with a reasonable explanation for your presence. You'll need to wear civilian clothes if you come to classes, however. That uniform would not be appropriate for someone who is not genuinely enrolled in the Academy." Verit's tone of voice became noticeably more severe when she spoke about Q's mode of dress.

"Right. How about this?" When the flash of light disappeared, his uniform had been exchanged for an exact replica of the outfit Icheb had habitually worn on Voyager.

"The brown color does nothing for you, Q. I mean, Quinton. You can still wear a red outfit, if you want, just not a cadet's uniform," Farys advised.

The flash was more subtle this time, as the color of the shirt took on a mixture of red and brown hues. "Much better," Farys said approvingly.

"This is pretty comfortable. Now I understand why you always wore this on Voyager, Icheb; but that brown color didn't do anything for you, either. Now, to pay all of you back for your welcome to me, why don't I take you to this little club I know on . . ."

Icheb interrupted him. "No interstellar side trips, please. We have term papers to finish." At Q's puzzled look, Icheb clarified, "You know, essays? You're familiar with them. But really long ones, based upon our research in our chosen fields."

"Oh, those. Yes, I know what you mean. I wrote a couple for . . . well, I wrote one for Aunt Kathy, after Icheb was kind enough to . . . provide me with a sample . . . so I'd know what Aunt Kathy expected from me. I'd never written one before."

"Aunt Kathy is Captain Janeway," Icheb explained. "That's what Q . . . Quinton calls her."

"Captain Kathryn Janeway is your aunt?" Verit's left eyebrow arched precipitously in disbelief.

"Honorary aunt. It's a long story. Maybe later. Seriously, though . . ."

"What was your essay about?" Farys asked. When Quinton explained the paper was about the history of the Continuum, Farys said, "Oh, I'd love to read it!"

With a snap of his fingers, Quinton produced a PADD, and after the group encouraged him (not that much was needed), he read it to a willing audience. When he finished, Quinton stood up to take a little bow to acknowledge the suitemates' applause.

"It's really neat to be speaking with a member of the Continuum. We probably know as much about them now as anyone in this quadrant, thanks to your presentation," Austin said.

Preening at this sign of acceptance, Quinton asked the group, "Do you think I should enroll in Starfleet Academy?"

"Why?" Verit answered. "If you're truly omniscient, you already possess the knowledge all cadets here are attempting to procure." Verit began to clear the table of empty serving dishes and eating utensils to return them to the recycler.  

Quinton sighed, "I wouldn't mind taking a few classes with you anyway. Just to test the hypothesis, you know, that I really AM omniscient."

"If you are omniscient, you already know my answer," Verit responded.

"I don't have to be omniscient to know you'd say 'no.' For a people that claim not to show emotions, you're certainly not shy about letting me know your reaction to me."

"Please, don't be insulting," Verit said, but her eyes danced in the way Icheb knew they did whenever she was VERY satisfied with herself. "As illuminating as this discussion has been," she continued, "it is time for the non-omniscient individuals at this table to resume their studies for the rest of the evening."

"In that case . . ." Quinton flashed away.

At the mumbles of surprise from his suitemates, Icheb advised them, "Don't expect any polite expressions of farewell from a Q. It's always an event when they show any courtesy at all, especially if they say 'ciao' or 'good-bye' when they leave you."

The suite was quiet for the next couple of hours as the cadets pursued their individual assignments. Quinton didn't reappear until all the suitemates, other than Icheb, had already retired for the night. Icheb was just getting up from one of the easy chairs near the windows to do the same when Quinton reappeared, with his body stretched out on the couch near the windows, his arms behind his head.

"Where have you been all this time?" Icheb asked.

"I went to see Aunt Kathy. She was surprised to see me without my father. You never told her what my mother told us? That my visit to Voyager was really a test to see if I had what it takes to keep an eye on my dad?"

"I recorded an entry in my personal log about it, but no. The subject never came up between us. We had . . . other things to talk about, whenever I had meetings with her."

"Yes, I guess you did," he replied thoughtfully. "That serum was quite an achievement."

"You know about . . . of course you do. What happened between the Queen and Admiral Janeway?"

Ignoring Icheb's question, Quinton asked Icheb to describe Voyager's trip through the hub.

"I can't really say from personal experience. I was too busy keeping watch over the shields at my station in Engineering. I heard from others though. It was pretty exciting. Lots of explosions, particularly of Borg vessels -- with or without the help of 'Admiral Aunt Kathy's' transphasic torpedoes. Can you tell me . . ."

"Aunt Kathy told me you're a real favorite with your professors, especially Professor Reagan. She said he calls you the "star of Astrometrics and Stellar Cartography.'"

"You're not going to tell me about what happened between Admiral Janeway and the Borg Queen, are you?"

Quinton ignored Icheb again. "How do you get along with the other students? I see your luscious pair of suitemates and Austin get along okay with you, but if you're doing so well, I'll bet others might be more than a little annoyed at how well you're doing, especially since you just got here."

Icheb admitted that he sometimes saw some resentment from others. "Quite a few come from Starfleet families who lost family members at Wolf 359. They still see me as a Borg drone, even though I couldn't have had anything to do with their loss.  I was still a little kid on Brunal when that happened. Assuming I was born by then. I'm not sure how old I am, exactly."

"Oh, you were around, all right. I checked once. But you aren't as old as you look, that's true enough." Quinton paused to look out at the view of San Francisco, visible through the suite's floor-to-ceiling windows. Eventually, he added, "I would imagine some are jealous about your loads of hands-on experience on Voyager, too."

"Maybe," Icheb cautiously acknowledged.

Quinton sat up and faced Icheb head-on. "It's going to be all right, Itchy. I'm sure you're going to be doing great in this timeline. Like my mom told you, even though we like to say we're omniscient, the Q can be surprised by what an individual is willing to do; but I know you. You'll follow procedures, but you'll put your life on the line if necessary. That whole, 'the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few . . . . ' You really believe in that. I'm a little surprised that I do, too. Aunt Kathy was amazed when I told her about the real reason I go wherever my dad goes; but she's happy that I'm helping to save the Continuum in my own small way. And yes, it's a small way, Icheb. I know that now."

"I'm not used to you being so modest . . . Quinton."

Quinton laughed. "I can be, sometimes. Maybe I learned it from you. Anyway, Aunt Kathy was also very glad to hear that what my dad said about my mom, about her rejecting both of us, wasn't really true. I told her I know what the admiral did, sacrificing her life for the good of beings who won't ever know what she did so they could live without the threat of assimilation. Even though she doesn't know all the details, Aunt Kathy seems to have changed, somehow. A weight came off her shoulders when she got her people home. She's grateful to be here, but even more, she's happy all of you are safe. Or as safe as anyone is in this galaxy."

"That's true. I came to grips with that when the admiral told me about what happened to 'her' Icheb, in the other timeline."

"That timeline is no more. I'm allowed to confirm that, at least. And I'm glad you're here at the Academy. Mom said you would be; and see, she was right! I like your suitemates, too, Icheb. I can't say much about what I might know about the future. I'm not supposed to 'influence' you, according to Mom. But it won't be out of line for me to tell you your suitemates are going to do great, just as you will. They'll learn as much from you as you will from them. You're still the only real friend I've ever had, Icheb -- maybe the only one I ever will have -- but I'm glad to get to know them, too. It makes me understand my dad's fascination with captains like Picard and Aunt Kathy. You're all pretty special."

Icheb was pleased to see this sober side of Quinton. This was the same Q he'd heard speaking when he was lying in Sickbay, close to death; the one who was willing to go with his "Aunt Kathy" to find a way to cure him of his injuries. He knew he'd like to spend more time with him, but how much would they have?

"Quinton, how long are you going to be with us?"

"I'm not sure, Icheb. As long as my mom can keep up the ruse that she's me, I guess. We'll have some fun -- even if we can't go off planet for it. I'm sure there are a few hot spots here."

"Tom Paris had some good times in Marseilles when he was a cadet. He'll have some ideas. And Austin knows as much about having fun as he does about engineering. He's a star to his engineering professors, too, you know, but he's always talking about blues and jazz clubs, especially the ones in his home State of Texas. If you liked the food we had tonight, he can direct you to the best Tex-Mex there is. You'll have plenty of fun, even if it's not as 'exotic' as the kind you have with your father."

"Hey, I think I'll enjoy the change. Following Dad around can be exhausting. Besides, there have to be a lot of hot girls on Earth, too, right?"

"Absolutely! Now, I do have an early class tomorrow. You don't really need to sleep, to you?"

"Oh, I rest every now and then. This couch will be fine. I might check out some of the local scenery while the rest of you are dreaming away."

"Well, enjoy your night. See you in the morning."

"See you, too, Icheb. And . . . thanks for being my friend."

=/\=

Quinton had arrived on a Tuesday. Captain Janeway introduced Quinton to the Academy superintendent as a "distant relative" who wished to audit a few classes during his short stay with his good friend Icheb. The captain's request was granted, and Quinton "Janeway" attended one or two with each of the residents of Icheb's suite, as well as several with Icheb. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut and listened -- most of the time. After his visit to one of Icheb's classes in his major, Professor Reagan commented to Captain Janeway, "Your relative knows quite a bit about Astrophysics. Is he considering enrollment here?" The captain thanked the professor, and said she wasn't aware of any such plans. If Quinton did express an interest, however, Captain Janeway assured Professor Reagan he would be among the first to know.

Since the Federation Council met in San Francisco, Quinton spent Friday morning in the visitor's gallery, listening to the proceedings until noon, when the council adjourned for the weekend. When he met Icheb for lunch afterwards, Quinton enthusiastically declared how interesting he thought it was to view such deliberations. "Politics. What a fascinating subject!"

Since Icheb had attained a somewhat less rosy view of the subject after the way his Maquis shipmates had been left hanging for so long, his only response was to take another spoonful of his plomeek soup.

By Friday, with the prospect of a very "interesting" weekend ahead, Icheb and his three suitemates had been motivated to have their school work sufficiently well in hand to be able to fully enjoy it. That evening, the promised whirlwind of activity began with a visit to a jazz club in New Orleans, which Austin assured Quinton would be "populated with lots of attractive young people -- especially of the female variety." The following day, they all traveled to Marseilles and visited the establishment which had served as the model for Tom's Sandrine's holodeck program. During this visit, while the group played pool, Icheb allowed Quinton to call him "Itchy," on the condition that he would allow everyone else to call him by the nickname of "Q-Ball." Austin became "Tex," Farys was the "Tenacious Lady T," and Verit eventually consented to respond when Quinton referred to her as "Madame Vulcan." On Sunday, Icheb convinced everyone to spend the day hiking along a trail in Yosemite, which he said was just like Tom's holodeck program -- only real. That night, Austin swept them to a blues club "in Austin, my hometown, of course!" The group barely made the Archer Hall curfew that night.

All things must come to an end, however, and just as everyone was having breakfast on Monday morning, Quinton received a "call" from his mother. "You can take it in my room, Quinton," Icheb said, leading him into his chamber. The "call" was a floating circle above Icheb's desk, with a harried Mom Q's head poking out of it.

:::Hello, Icheb. You're looking well. Sorry to bother you, but . . . Q, your father is even worse now than he was when we were first married! I'm not rushing you, my dear, truly I'm not, but how much longer are you going to be on Earth?:::

"Give me a chance to say good bye to Itchy and his friends. They're actually pretty cool."

:::You've had a good time on your vacation?:::

"I have. I'll be there very soon."

:::Thank you, dear. Good-bye, Icheb. Good to see you again.::: The face and the circle flashed away.

After Quinton told everyone he'd been called home, they said they were sorry to see him go. "It has been fun, hasn't it? It's been great to meet all of you. I'll try to come back pretty soon. I was really impressed by the way your Federation Council operates. Do you think I could make it as a diplomat?" he asked brightly.

"No," Verit answered succinctly.

"You're breaking my heart, my beauteous Madame Vulcan." He reached for her hand to kiss it, which she snatched away from his grasp before his lips could caress it. "Oh, sorry. The touch telepath thing, right? Very astute of you. We wouldn't want you to suffer. Who knows if you could handle the undiluted power of the Q touch?"

With her left eyebrow raised with disapproval about his boast, which belied the mild manner of her actual reply, Verit crisply stated, "I appreciate your willingness to refrain from touching me."

Tana Farys and Austin Sanchez had no such reservations. Farys gave him a hug, and Austin shook his hand heartily before the two of them walked out the door to get to their first class.

Icheb also had no qualms about shaking his friend's hand and giving him a quick embrace. As Quinton began to raise his arm in the way he often did just before flashing away, Icheb called out, "Q-Ball, wait. There's one question you haven't answered yet. What's really happened to the Borg? Are they destroyed as a monolithic entity? Or are the remnants simply regrouping? If the Q are really omniscient, you must know the answer. Please . . . "

"I'm really sorry, Itchy. I knew you were going to ask about that. Mom ordered me not to tell you. But don't worry. You'll find out the answer soon enough." And then he flashed away.

"Do you think he'll be back soon?" Verit asked.

"Probably not, although with the Q, it's hard to predict what they'll do from one minute to the next. From what I know of his father, though, you're lucky he didn't show up, too. Our 'Quinton' has been assigned to follow his father around to try to keep him out of trouble, and that's an almost impossible task. I guess Quinton needed the break."

"How long did you have to put up with him?"

"About a week. He almost got me killed once, but it was okay. It was his father who zapped me, so he was able to bring me back."

After a short period of reflection, Verit said, "I've never had an opportunity like yours, traveling through a distant quadrant, discovering species on previously unknown worlds. Compared to your life's journey, mine from Vulcan to Earth has been unremarkable. Quinton is a fascinating and very different life form to know, but I can now say, without reservation, that I'm pleased it was you, and not me, who encountered him on Voyager. A prosaic life's journey has its compensations, does it not?"

"You'll never get an argument from me about that," Icheb replied, as he gathered up his PADDs to spend a very ordinary and productive day at Starfleet Academy.

=/\=

The morning following  "Quinton's" departure, Icheb received a very conventional visual message from him.

Hey, Itchy,

I managed to sneak away from the old man long enough to tell my mother all about my vacation. (It helps when you can show her everything that happened in less than one of your seconds.) Anyway, she said humans on Earth expect some sort of thank you from a guest after a visit like mine. I pointed out that you weren't human, but that didn't impress her at all. Personally, I think she's been observing primitive bipedal humanoids more than she's been willing to admit to my father. Or maybe it's just that she really likes you. You're a good influence, she says.

We had a great weekend, but I have to say, attending classes with you and your suitemates was a totally new experience for me. Maybe if I can get Dad into reasonable shape for a while someday, I'll have a chance to get away and enroll in a school somewhere just for fun.  So, thanks, Icheb. And thank Austin, Farys, and especially Verit for me, too. It's been real . . . I guess that's all I have to say, huh? It HAS been real.

Your friend, Quinton the Q-Ball

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 55103.1  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

I just returned from another "Welcome Home, Voyager" reception. Everyone I spoke with hoped this one would be the last one for a while. Tom said he's tired of them and just wants to get on with his life. While he and B'Elanna have another fancy dinner to attend in a couple of weeks, that one isn't a "Welcome Home" event. His mother holds it every year to raise awareness and obtain resources for her charity work, aiding displaced people in the area torn by the Dominion War. After that's over, though, Tom and B'Elanna insist they'll decline all invitations for "Rubber Chicken" evenings. B'Elanna told me she was tired of them the first week they were back.

I was glad to see all five of our Equinox crew were present, but this may be the last time I will. Brian, Jim, and Angelo have signed on to commercial spaceships which will ship out at various times during the next two weeks. Noah is interviewing for jobs on Earth. He's up for one in Vancouver, British Columbia, at a biotech firm. His experience as an exobotanist on Voyager was key for him securing an interview. Captain Janeway gave him a positive reference, so it looks good for him. Marla's going to start her new job in two days. It's in San Francisco, so she'll be able to live with her sister until she finds an apartment. She told everyone to keep her in mind if they hear of a suitable place. While she loves living with her sister, she says it's time for her to make a home of her own with Aimee.

Seven and I were seated at the same table as Naomi's family, Tal Celes, Billy Telfer, and Mortimer Harren. We won't be seeing Tal or Mortimer for a while after this, if ever. Tal is traveling home to Bajor on the same ship that Tabor and his wife Orlanda Jor are. They're visiting his family and may stay on Bajor afterwards. They have no plans to enlist in Starfleet. Mortimer has been invited to join the staff at the Institute of Cosmology on Orion I, his" dream job." He'll be leaving the day after tomorrow. Billy will remain here. He's going for training as a Field Medic at Starfleet Medical Academy. It wasn't very nice, but I laughed when he told me that. Fortunately, I wasn't the only one who did. Billy took it well. "I know all about hypochondria already," he admitted. "I finally decided I should find out how to treat all those conditions I was so afraid of catching while I was on Voyager!"

I wasn't very impressed with Libby Byrd, Harry's former and possibly future fiancée. When Naomi and I were introduced to her, she was cordial, but as soon as she saw Admiral Paris with his wife on his arm, she wasted no time saying good-bye to us. She dragged Harry over to Tom's parents so he could introduce her to the admiral. I looked over at Tom and B'Elanna. They were whispering to each other, and both had grim expressions on their faces.

Later on, I went up to Tom and asked him if he could tell me what he was saying to his wife just then. "I told her my parents were really in for it now that the widow Byrd has met them. Did you see how she was hovering near them even after Dad turned away to speak with Captain Janeway? I just don't understand why Harry would go back to her after all this time. He's not the same guy he was seven years ago. From what I've seen, Libby hasn't grown up much at all, despite the loss of her husband. She seems really shallow to me. But what do I know?"

"Maybe it's just that you like the really complicated ones," Icheb replied.

"B'Elanna would qualify, I admit that!" Tom laughed. "I don't really understand their relationship, any more than I do Seven and Chakotay's. Icheb, did they really get together on Voyager, before we came through the transwarp hub?"

I told him they did. I wasn't sure if I should say anything more, but since Seven wasn't near me right then, I added, "It's been going on for a couple of months. Seven had her emotional inhibitor chip removed so they could begin their relationship." I was tempted to add something about the admiral's letter, but I decided against it. That's my secret to keep, and Seven's. As far as I know, she hasn't even told Chakotay about what happened in the other timeline.

Chakotay returned from his sister's two days ago. He and Seven seem to have made up. Last weekend I helped her move into a little house across the bay, located not far from the Academy campus. He moved in with her when he came back to San Francisco, but I still wonder how stable their union is. He sat on the dais next to Captain Janeway tonight, and every time I looked up at them, they were smiling and chatting very easily with each other. Whenever I looked back at my mother, she was watching them, too, but with a very stony expression on her face. While Seven looked beautiful in her elegant gown, I got the impression she'd rather have been in Astrometrics, or maybe checking out schematics for the new and improved propulsion systems for the Delta Flyer Project she's working on with Harry. Anyplace but here.

At least we had a very good time at our table, especially when we were talking about the naming conventions of Bajor and Ktaris. Tal Celes was very funny, explaining that the captain never seemed to remember that she should be called Ensign Tal when she was on duty. She always called her Ensign Celes. "I think Tabor had the right idea. He asked Chakotay not to let the captain know his personal name in the beginning. By the time she found out it was Daneil, she already had 'Ensign Tabor' stuck in her mind and never called him anything else."

Naomi's dad, Lieutenant Commander Greskrendtregk, explained that if Ktarian naming conventions had been followed exactly, Naomi's name would be Naomigreskrendwildman. When she heard that, Naomi groaned loudly and banged her head on the table, which really hurt her. Those little projections on her forehead are extremely sensitive. Her father explained that after the personal designation is chosen, the father's first two names and mother's last are tacked on after it to form a single unique name.

"I decided to split things up a little," Sam explained. "Her full name is Naomi Greskrend Wildman, but I never publicized her full name on Voyager. I believe the captain and the Doctor are the only ones who ever knew what the 'G' in Naomi G. Wildman stood for."

"Did you mind what Mom did, Dad?" Naomi asked.

"Not really, Naomi. Ktarians usually have multi-syllabic names. After our marriage, your mother's name became Samanthawildmantregk on my planet. That IS a mouthful. I'm pleased she made sure your name would include mine, and in the right order according to our practice. Having it spaced out a bit to make it easier for non-Ktarians to manage doesn't matter."

When the "Rubber Chicken" speeches began, Naomi and I slipped away to a side room in the hall so we could speak in private. She said her parents are very "lovey-dovey" at home. "He really is very nice, but having a dad around all the time is a big adjustment . He's trying to get to know me, and I'm trying to get to know him. But it bothers me whenever I hear him tell my mom how sad he is that he missed so much of my life. It's not like they could have done anything to prevent it. She didn't know she was pregnant when she boarded Voyager "

When we returned to our seats, I noticed Captain Janeway touching Chakotay's arm, laughing with him. He was grinning along with her. My mom scowled up at them, and I thought again she's just so different from Chakotay in every way. If Naomi thinks her adjustment with her dad is tough, what's it going to be like for me if Seven marries Chakotay in this timeline, too?

=/\=

Shortly after Tom and B'Elanna began working on the Delta Flyer Project with Harry and Seven, Icheb was invited to come visit their work site. As she'd promised she would, Seven stepped down from a leadership position on the project as soon as Tom and B'Elanna arrived. While the two were now the co-leaders of the project. Harry continued to be designated as the official "liaison" with the "brass."

"I'll bet Harry is just so happy about that," Icheb said sarcastically.

"Actually, he is. He believes the visibility he will achieve with the Starfleet administration will work in his favor. He's still very sensitive about how long he remained at the rank of ensign."

When he arrived at the project headquarters, Icheb discovered he wasn't the only person scheduled to visit that day. Captain Janeway accompanied Chakotay. As soon as they came in, Captain Janeway announced, "I'd like to present Starfleet's newest captain! Chakotay has been reinstated, and he's accepted a well-deserved promotion. Captain Chakotay will teach Anthropology at the Academy during the late spring and summer sessions."

Everyone congratulated him, of course, but Icheb could see his adoptive mother was perturbed by the announcement. Icheb suspected this was the first time she heard about this. Icheb wasn't surprised by the promotion. After the way he performed as Janeway's loyal first officer, Chakotay should have proven to the Admiralty that he was Starfleet "through and through." What did surprise Icheb was why Chakotay chose to talk over such an important decision with his sister before accepting such an offer. If he was truly committed to his relationship with Seven, shouldn't he have discussed this with her?

Icheb kept this observation to himself. When he congratulated Captain Chakotay, who was standing next to Captain Janeway at the time, he jokingly asked if he should take any of their classes. Captain Janeway laughed, saying, "You could teach my class on the Borg!"

Chakotay's answer was very different, even if he gave it with a smile. "If you're interested in anthropology, sure; but don't expect any special favors just because you're Seven's son."

Icheb laughed politely, but the more he thought about the comment, the more annoyed he became. Did Chakotay really think he needed to get "special favors" to pass an Anthropology course? Maybe it was just a joke, but Icheb didn't care for the implications. He immediately decided his time would be much better spent taking other subjects, such as Inter-stellar Ethnology or Interspecies Ethics. Even Klingon Physiology would be preferable. Who knew? Once he became a Field Medic, he might need to treat Klingons.

=/\=

Stardate 55123.1  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

Tom and B'Elanna invited me to attend his mother's charity event for the Desdichado Foundation. They help the families of the Maquis with food, housing, and medical care, among other services. Their primary focus is on the children, many of whom are orphans. I always thought Mrs. Paris was very nice. She had a lot of influence over her son, especially in the development of a sense of humor. (According to Reg, Admiral Paris has never been known for much of one.) When I heard her speak, however, I was even more impressed with her. Hers wasn't a "Rubber Chicken" type of speech. It was very short and sweet. She thanked everyone for their support for the foundation in this and in former years. Tom explained she traveled to Bajor for the first time when she thought Tom was lost to her. The idea for the Desdichado Foundation came to her during that first visit as a way to help others who had lost family members during the region's conflicts. After she found out Tom was alive, she became even more motivated to help those who hadn't been as lucky as she'd been to discover someone they loved had survived, beyond all expectations.

She introduced the keynote speaker, a Bajoran vedek  who works with her. Vedek Rikaar was a powerful orator. I was never bored listening to her speech. When I told her afterwards how much I enjoyed it, she congratulated me about how well I was doing at the Academy. I guessed Mrs. Paris must have told her a little about me.

B'Elanna came over to my date Verit and me after the speech was over and explained that Vedek Rikaar and her husband were both former Maquis. They were able to come to this dinner because they'd received their pardons from the Federation, too. B'Elanna knew the vedek. They'd been in Chakotay's cell for a while. Vedek Rikaar left shortly after Tom Paris was captured. "She and Tom were best friends at the Academy. They both had it rough after graduation. Since she met her husband Rikaar Tomas and had her little boy Tommy, things are going very well for her. Tom's mother has 'adopted' the vedek and her family. Little Tommy calls her 'Grammy.'"

"B'Elanna, I was under the impression you never knew Tom in the Maquis. Is that true?" Icheb asked her.

"No, I never met him then. I was on a different planet than the one we used for our base, renovating a ship, when Tom and the vedek ran into each other again there. She kept us apart because she wasn't sure if Chakotay would accept Tom into our cell. We were leaving the other planet to return to our base when he was captured by Starfleet. We lost the ship he was on, but the rest of us escaped in the one I'd fixed up. I still can't believe I swallowed all the lies Seska told me about him when we were bugging out of our base camp. I found out later he sacrificed himself so the rest of us could get away. He told Laren . . . I mean, Larys, that he didn't know anything about the Maquis plans, so his capture would be less damaging than ours would be."

After B'Elanna left us, Verit turned to me and said, "Have you noticed how much Rikaar Tomas looks like Commander Riker of the Enterprise? The resemblance is quite extraordinary."

"I have. It's amazing. If he weren't Bajoran, I'd think he was the commander's twin brother!"

After Verit and I returned to our suite, we speculated about how a Starfleet officer, even one who had resigned her commission to join the Maquis, would decide to join a religious order. It must be quite a story. If the vedek is so close to Tom's family, I may be able to find out more about it from one of them someday.

=/\=  

Several days after the Desdichado Foundation dinner, Verit asked her suitemate for a favor. "I've decided to study the genomes of various species for my major term project in Exobiology. Since you are the only known representative of your species in the Alpha Quadrant, would you be willing to share a DNA sample for my paper? It would be fascinating to compare yours with other species in the Federation."

"Of course. I have a PADD in which I've documented the genomes of many other Delta Quadrant species. You can borrow it, if you like. Your project would be unique if you included the Hirogen or Talaxians in your study, too."

"That would be most beneficial. I must confess, I had considered whether or not to ask if you had such a resource you would be willing to share with me. Since you're offering . . ."

"No problem. Let me find one. I have a few PADDs with that kind of information in them."

When he reached the shelf with his PADDs, he was pleased to see the first contained just the type of records she would find most helpful. When he handed it over to her, she said, "Thank you very much, Icheb. I will, of course, cite you as a source in my project report."

Icheb chuckled. "It would be fairly obvious what the source of your information about Delta Quadrant species must be, but thank you. I would expect nothing less from you, Verit."

Since Icheb was due to leave for a class right after Verit made her request, he only glanced at the PADD's list of contents when he checked to see if it contained what she needed for her project. There were other files, too, identified only by the Stardate each one had been saved. Icheb used such a code for many of his files. Since he was in a hurry, he didn't take the time to identify exactly what data the other files contained. If he'd done so, he might have chosen another to lend to Verit, who was fully capable of appreciating the importance of what her suitemate had shared with her. Some of those other files were backup copies from a very important gene resequencing project he'd undertaken, one which formed a critical component of the plan which led to Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

When Mezoti returned home from school that day, Arebi called her into their main gathering room and asked her to sit down on the squeaky couch near the family communication console. "Mezoti, our leaders have contacted me and asked if one of my children could help them with a message they're having problems decoding. Three Borg scout ships are in orbit around our planet, and the message is written in Borg Alphanumerics. Azan and Rebi won't be home for quite a while because of their Karfella game. Would you be willing to help?"

"Of course I will, Arebi. Can I gain access to the message on our console?"

"No. They want us to go to the main communications center to view it."

This was a surprise. What did they think the message contained? If the Borg had come to assimilate the Wysanti populace, the message would be unmistakable. It certainly would not have come in the form of Borg alphanumerics.

"When do we leave?" she asked Arebi.

He smiled. "I knew you would say that. We leave immediately."

=/\=

When they arrived at the Planetary Communications Central Complex, Mezoti was introduced to a variety of officials from the Wysanti Defense Agency. They quickly ushered her into a large room with a number of view screens mounted along the perimeter of the room, each bearing a message or image. None of the displays were blank, but none contained an image of a Borg vessel, either. When she'd walked far enough into the room to see what was on the largest screen in the room's center, which reminded her of the viewscreen on Voyager's bridge, she could see two messages displayed, one right next to the other. The message written in Borg alphanumerics was on the left-hand side of the screen. The one on the right was in Wysanti.

Mezoti quickly reviewed both of them. The Borg message was a little confusing, since some of the vocabulary was unlike anything she'd seen before, but she quickly grasped what it was trying to say. "The person who decrypted this message translated it accurately, except for the term 'medical assistance.' A better translation would be 'surgical procedures.'" She hesitated before continuing, "You did notice that the drones who sent you this message say they are individuals, members of the Borg Resistance Movement, didn't you? Captain Janeway set them free from the Borg Queen's control one Wysanti year ago. They're not connected to the Queen anymore. That seems to have affected their health. Their implants are failing, and their nanoprobes no longer heal efficiently. They believe surgical procedures are necessary to remove implants which are damaging them."

Mezoti turned to her foster father. "Nanoprobes are very efficient at healing injuries and illnesses of drones. However, when the five of us first came on Voyager, the Doctor removed any implants which were not working properly. He said he also had to do this to save Seven's life when she was disconnected from the Collective. This may be what's happening to these drones, too."

Deveron Marin, the Defensive leader, asked her, "We don't have access to the knowledge your Voyager Doctor possessed. How can our medical personnel assist these drones? "

"Actually, I believe you do. When we came to live here, the Doctor provided my foster parents with information about how to treat maladies of former Borg. One of our physicians removed a part from my cortical node that was no longer functioning properly. Arebi, if you allow our physicians to share the Doctor's instructions with other Wysanti physicians, I'm sure they'll be able to treat these drones."

"We'll do that, of course. But Mezoti, while your translation of this message may be correct, how do we know if the message was truthful?" Arebi asked.

"Why don't we contact them directly? They must have the ability to transfer their images here. I suspect the only reason they have not is that they don't want to seem to be threatening the Wysanti."

The leaders huddled for a few minutes, discussing Mezoti's suggestion. She thought this was ridiculous. Viewing the drones who sent this message wouldn't present a threat to Wysanti. Mezoti was surprised they hadn't sent a visual message right from the beginning. When she thought about it for a few minutes, however, she wondered if they'd approached other planets before this, but had been turned away. That would explain why they sent their message in script form, rather than through direct visual contact.

When the huddle broke up, Deveron Marin asked Mezoti to compose a message for his communications officer to send to the Borg sphere making the initial contact with Wysanti, asking them to open visual communications. Seconds after the message was sent, three figures appeared on the main screen.

Mezoti was dismayed by what she saw. From the murmured comments and the gasps from the people around her, she wasn't the only one. The Borg on screen looked nothing like the beings who struck fear to individuals throughout the Delta Quadrant. Oozing sores surrounded the implants on their faces and the visible parts of their bodies. Some implants seemed to have been torn out the drones' flesh, leaving gaping holes which were barely scabbed over. Mezoti was sure these wounds had become painfully infected. Their nanoprobes clearly were not working the way they usually did to heal these injuries.

Devoron Marin initiated vocal contact. "Borg vessels, you are directed to send two of your drones to a facility on our southernmost continent for evaluation. We are projecting a map to you to direct you to the proper location. How many . . . individuals from your three vessels require treatment?"

The drone in the center replied,  :::Fifty-one.:::

Mezoti was shocked, but she was pleased when Marin said, "Send the two who are the most critically ill down to the hospital we identified. As soon as we know what we must deal with, we can alert other facilities to expect you. We can prepare them so all those needing our assistance can be accommodated as soon as possible."

Mezoti was startled when the drone in the center said, ::: Wysanti Leader Marin, we have been searching for many time units for a people which will provide this assistance. We thank you very much for being willing to help us.:::

When the transmission ended, Mezoti turned to her foster father. "You may be certain they are not lying to us, Arebi. No drone connected to the Collective would ever offer thanks to anyone -- even each other."

=/\=

Several days later, all three scout ships had landed on Wysanti, and their sick and injured had been transported to one of several medical facilities designated to provide them treatment. Several other drones from each scout ship were functioning well enough not to need immediate hospitalization, but all were examined and found to need some level of care on an outpatient basis. All of them had implants which were beginning to fail. Based upon the data Voyager's EMH had provided Arebi and Mazani for the treatment of Mezoti and the twins, the doctors were able to perform the procedures he'd recommended.

When Deveron Marin contacted Mezoti and her family to thank her for her assistance, he explained, :::Even the so-called 'healthy' former drones are suffering a great deal of pain. I never thought I would feel so sorry for Borg drones.:::

"I don't know if they're really Borg now, any more than Azan, Rebi, and I are, Defensive Leader. I'm not sure what you should call us, either."

:::I think people will do for now. Thank you again for your help, Mezoti. The Wysanti are very lucky you were here to help us, or we might have decided to turn these unfortunate people away, too, the way other planetary governments did.:::

After the message from Deveron Marin terminated, Mezoti asked her foster parents for permission to visit some of the former drones in a hospital nearby. At first Arebi and Mazani were somewhat reluctant. "What if you contract one of these infections from them?" Mazani asked.

"Contact medical staff. Find out if I could be in danger. From what I saw on the viewscreen, their injuries began when they removed their failing implants improperly. That's why their infections began and eventually became so serious."

Mazani did as Mezoti had asked. The head doctor from a facility nearby did not believe the four former drones in his hospital would pose any danger to anyone who wished to visit them. Mezoti's hypothesis about how the infections originated was consistent with the reports the former drones had given to his staff.

Mazani and Arebi agreed to give their consent, but only if one of the foster parents went along with her. "You're too young to face such a sight by yourself."

Mezoti had never told her foster parents about the alien freighter captain on their cube, who had been so brutally murdered by First, Icheb, and herself when they'd tried to assimilate him. Mezoti would never forget that terrible experience. She wouldn't burden them with this knowledge, but it convinced her that she would be able to endure anything she might see during a visit to the injured former Borg.

The next day, Mezoti and Arebi visited the Sajar Medical Complex. Rather than Borg designations, the former drones receiving treatment identified themselves by the names they'd borne before they were assimilated: Tc'ikan, SEvuAla, Meruk'an, and Veria Sala. Although their scout ship was a very small one, Tc'ikan and Veria Sala had both carried the Unimatrix Zero mutation. They'd visited the virtual reality sanctuary until the Borg Queen destroyed it. "They took over our scout ship by breaking the communication link with the Collective and freed the rest of us from the Queen's control," Meruk'an explained.

"It's been very difficult," Veria Sala stated. "We met up with the other scout vessels in our group, and at first, our bodies adapted well to the loss of the communication link. We don't know how or why, but suddenly, our ship mechanisms began to work inefficiently, and our implants began to fail, bringing us a great deal of pain. Our medical drone tried to remove them, but our nanoprobes no longer healed us afterwards. We became as you see us now."

Arebi had allowed Mezoti to take the lead in conversing with the four, not out of fear --  they were much too ill to pose any threat -- but because Mezoti was very comfortable approaching them. However, upon careful consideration of what Veria Sala had described, he asked them, "Did you notice anything that was . . . unusual . . . during your travels?"

"Do you mean the debris fields?" Tc'ikan asked.

"Yes," Arebi quickly answered. If he'd thought he could avoid his foster daughter's curiosity, however, he was mistaken.

"What debris fields?" Mezoti asked.

Her foster father turned to her and explained, "We didn't want to upset you, Mezoti, but trading vessels have reported finding drifting fields of fragments. They all appear to be the remains of exploded Borg vessels."

"Yes, mainly from very large cubes and spheres," Tc'ickan confirmed. "All but one of the ones we discovered appeared to have been destroyed at the same time, 57.4 time units ago."

Mezoti made a quick calculation. "That would be a little less than three Federation Standard months ago," she said softly.

"Do you tell time the way the Captain Janeway does?" SEvuAla inquired.

"I do, but I keep it by Wysanti time, too. I lived on Voyager with Captain Janeway until I came to Wysanti one year ago. By Federation time, that would be a few months more than a standard year."

"Were you on Voyager when the Queen destroyed Unimatrix Zero?" SEvuAla asked.

"Yes, I was."

"We determined that one of the Borg debris field we found was destroyed at that time. Our ship's leader Avery, who was Four of Seven before our link to the Collective was broken, told us the Queen destroyed some cubes when she detected only one drone was no longer linked to her. It was fortunate for us that we were able to break free before she could do that to our scout ship. That field is very near to your planet," Tc'ikan said. "If your leaders have not personally examined one, we can give you the coordinates."

"I'll ask our Defense Leader Marin if he wishes to send out a ship to explore it," Arebi said. "He may be reluctant. We've heard the Borg often return to their destroyed vessels to retrieve components. Do you know if the Borg Resistance is still fighting vessels which the Queen controls?"

"Not for some time. The last reports of fighting ended at the same time most of the debris fields were created. We haven't met with any intact Hive vessels to resist against since then." Tc'ikan added, "We need to become healthy and whole again so we have the strength to fight them when we do. That's why we decided to risk approaching planets to ask for help. We've been in contact with other Resistance ships which also require medical assistance. Do you think your leadership will permit them to come here, too?"

"Now that we've seen the state you're in, that may be possible," Arebi cautiously replied. "Perhaps not too many at once, though!"

"We understand your fears," SEvuAla responded, very seriously. If she recognized Arebi was trying to be humorous, there was no sign of it from the way she spoke. "We remember assimilation. It is a terrible thing. Mezoti, we honor your bravery, coming here to speak with us. It can't have been easy."

She thought about how she could answer this for a moment before saying, "It hasn't been easy, but I owe it to you to help you. I know what assimilation is like. It's good I was here when you needed my help."

As Mezoti and Arebi were leaving the hospital, after saying good-bye to the former Borg they'd visited, Arebi said, "I know you regretted your choice to stay with us when Voyager continued on its journey. Do you still feel that way?"

"I miss Seven and Icheb very much. I always will. If I ever have the chance to see them and live with them again, I'd like to; but Arebi, I'm glad I was here to assist these people. They deserve our help."

"They do indeed. I'm glad you were here, too."

=/\=

Although Azan and Rebi had been reluctant, Mezoti convinced them to come with her and  Arebi to see the drones recuperating at Sajar Medical Complex. After that initial visit, they accompanied them on several other occasions without any prodding from Mezoti. Rebi admitted to Mezoti later that although they hadn't expected it, the twins felt a kinship with other beings who had been stolen from their homes by the Borg.

When the scout ship on which the four resided touched down on the complex's rounds, the twins were eager to visit it. This, quite understandably, made Mazani and Arebi somewhat nervous, but Avery, the leader of the scout ship, assured the grandparents she had no desire to kidnap them. "I will only take them for a short tour." It turned out to last longer than Avery had expected. After she identified several mechanisms on her ship which were beginning to fail. Azan and Rebi recognized what was going wrong because the same things had happened to equipment on their Children's Collective cube. They recruited Mezoti, and the three suggested ways to make repairs using substitute parts available on Wysanti. 

On the day Tc'ikan, SEvuAla, Meruk'an and Veria Sala received very good news, Mezoti, Arebi, and the twins were at the hospital. Their news made Mezoti more than a little sad. All four were to be released from the hospital and would return to their ship the following day. None of the other vessels belonging to the Resistance which had come to Wysanti had been directed to Sajar. When she left the complex that afternoon, Mezoti didn't think she'd encounter former Borg ever again.

Mezoti was mistaken. A few days later, the entire family was invited to a reception at the planetary capital. :::One of the leaders of the Borg Resistance Movement has landed and wishes to thank your family in particular for your assistance to his people during this crisis::: Defense Leader Marin's aide explained in the invitation. Although Mazani was still nervous about contact with any of the people who had killed her daughter and stolen her grandchildren, she finally agreed to go.

When the family arrived at the center where the reception was being held, they were happy to see Avery, SEvuAla and Veria Sala were among those present. As they waited for the event to begin, Tc'ikan also joined them. Most of the former Borg who were treated on Wysanti had recovered. In the end, only four succumbed to their ailments. Avery told them, "All of us are very grateful for the care we received here. You saved the lives of so many of us. What may be even more important, the information you passed on to us from Voyager's Doctor will enable us to provide care to anyone who becomes ill in the future. We came today to thank you."

Tc'ikan added, "Several more ships have arrived. All of them are also with the Borg Resistance. Most of those drones have been treated for their illnesses. We're planning to form a group to work on repairing all our vessels. Once that task is completed, our forces will move off to search for more of us. If we do encounter any ships still connected to the Hive, we'll try to free them, too." He stopped his explanation then, and pointed out a very tall figure striding in their direction. "Ah, look there! Our general is approaching!"

When Mezoti turned to look where he was pointing, she was delighted to see who it was. "It's Captain Korok!" she called out.

"Little Mezoti! Azan! Rebi! It's wonderful to see you again. I'm surprised to find you here, although I thought the Mezoti I'd met on Voyager must be the same one helping my people here on Wysanti. It would be too much of a coincidence that there should be two individuals named Mezoti who had been freed from the Collective."

The presence of the three Borg children on Wysanti was quickly explained, and Captain Korok was introduced to the grandparents. Neither had ever met a Klingon before, and they were a little stunned by the hearty nature of this former Borg, who displayed none of the reticence they'd become used to from their grandsons and Mezoti.

When the group broke up into smaller conversational groups, Mezoti moved closer to the Resistance leader. At a reduced volume, she asked him, "Korok, I spoke with Deveron Marin several days ago. We didn't know what to call the drones who are separated from the Collective. Do we still call ourselves Borg?"

"We will always be Borg, little Mezoti," he replied, "even after we've been separated from the Queen's control for many years -- even if every implant should be removed from our bodies! Never be ashamed of your history. We shared an experience that will never leave us, although we are now free to choose our own path. We no longer are duped into believing we live by consensus."

"I'm not ashamed of what I am, Korok. Although I prefer individuality, I know I will always be an individual who has lived as Borg. Thank you for answering my question. I am still Borg." As she smiled up at him, she could not hold back her feelings. "Oh, I can't tell you how good it is for me to see you, Korok!"

"Where are Seven and Icheb?"

"They're still on Voyager. I agreed to live on this planet when Azan and Rebi were found to be of the Wysanti people. Their grandparents asked me to live with them, and I agreed."

She looked up at Arebi, who had stepped near the two. He'd picked up the thread of her thought. "I'm afraid she's sorry she didn't stay on Voyager most . . . maybe all of the time." He looked worried when he added, "I hope you won't take her away from us. I know she would like to be with Seven and Icheb again, but from what you say about the Borg Resistance, it sounds so dangerous for a young girl . . ."

Mezoti was surprised to hear Arebi speak like this. Was he afraid Korok would take her with him to Voyager?

Korok must have understood the source of Arebi's worry. "It would be difficult to find Voyager if the ship is still traveling towards their Alpha Quadrant," he said, in as gentle a tone as a Klingon could muster. "My first responsibility is to the Borg Resistance, you understand. I must organize our ships so we can locate more of us. This can't be all who are left! I assure you, we will not assimilate anyone, but we need to protect ourselves. When we do encounter anyone still connected to the Queen, we must be able to continue the fight until all drones are free to live their lives as they choose, and not as the Queen's puppets!"

Turning back to Mezoti, he continued, "However, if I should ever again make contact with the most courageous Captain Janeway and her crew, I will tell them I saw you, Mezoti. I will also let Seven and young Icheb know you are well, but that you would like to live with them again. Is that not so?" While this last had been addressed to Mezoti, Korok looked to Arebi for an answer.

Arebi nodded slightly and said, a little sadly, "Yes, Captain Korok, it is. It's only the truth. But I'm glad to hear you have no designs against the Wysanti!"

"Never again, Arebi. Not one drone of the Borg Resistance wishes to steal the life of another being. We have seen millions, perhaps trillions of people, and thousands of planets, that have been destroyed by the Hive. It must end."

=/\=

A few days later, Mezoti said, "Arebi? I'd like to prepare a recorded message to send to Neelix the next time Masseni comes, so he can forward it to Voyager after Masseni delivers it to him. Is that permissible?"

"Of course. Have you drafted your message? I know you like to do that."

"Yes, I wrote it all out on this device. I don't think I'll have to refer to it, but I will keep it by me. I don't want to forget to say anything I want to say to Neelix, and to Voyager."

"I can set things up for you. Then I'll leave you to allow you some have privacy while you record it."

"Thank you, Arebi, but I don't mind if you hear it. Mazani can come in to hear it, too."

He raised his brows in surprise, but he complied with her request. After Arebi called in his wife, Mezoti began to recite her message to Neelix. By the time Mezoti had finished what she had to convey, Mazani was quietly weeping.

Mezoti went to her and put her arms around her. "I'm sorry, Mazani. You've done everything right. It's not your fault I haven't adjusted. It's mine. When I visited with the former Borg at the hospitals here, I realized I preferred their company to my contemporaries at school. I don't think I'll ever really fit in here. I wish I could be the daughter you wanted when you invited me to stay with you. I don't think I can."

Arebi was the one to put it into words: "Mazani and I have spoken about this many times when you weren't around to 'overhear' us. Making a home for you has been a privilege, but you're right. You were meant to live your life in space. Forgive us if we're not disappointed the Borg never assimilated us, so we were here to form a family when you needed one!"

Mezoti looked up into Arebi's face and smiled. "It's just as Korok said to us. I would never want anyone ever to be assimilated. Losing individuality is a terrible, painful fate."

Her foster mother was finally able speak. "We see how it is with our grandsons. We love them, but all they really need is each other. We love you, too, but we know you're the child of Seven and sister of Icheb. All children grow up and make their own lives. We will return you to your true family if they ever come for you. Since that's not possible now, we're here for you, for as long as you need us."

As Mezoti hugged her foster parents, and they hugged her in turn, Mezoti felt better. Arebi had known for a long time how she really felt. Now she knew Mazani had known it for some time, too. It's better for it to be out in the open. They were family in the same way everyone on Voyager was family -- but that isn't the same kind as Naomi and her mother Samantha are family, or even how Aimee and Marla Gilmore are. Mezoti now understood the difference. That was what she'd had with Seven and Icheb, and she'd let it slip away. If that mistake could ever be rectified, Mezoti would do it. It was a relief to know that Mazani and Arebi would not try to stop her, if it ever should happen.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Icheb concentrated on his studies. He was fully aware of how fortunate he was to be a cadet at Starfleet Academy. The Voyager crew members who remained in the Sol System treated him like a member of the family. Seven had accepted the responsibility of making him, quite literally, a member of her family through adoption. He'd been incredibly lucky when he'd been assigned to the same suite as Verit, Farys, and Austin. While a few people on campus may have resented him, Icheb's work ethic and general air of humility had won most of them over. He was respected for his intellectual achievements. Icheb didn't think his life could get any better.

It was all too good to last.

When Icheb stumbled, the cause was the usual elephant in the room for adolescents of any race which utilized single-cell reproduction. Despite Icheb's stated intention to remain free of romantic entanglements while studying at the Academy, his resolve was broken because of the way many other cadets "swooned" over his "face jewelry." It was inevitable. Icheb fell in love, or, at the very least, a reasonable facsimile.

Jolana Tor was enrolled in the same Basic Hand-to-Hand Combat class as Icheb. Although Jolana was Ktarian, she didn't look at all like Naomi Wildman. Instead of a row of protrusions on her forehead, she had bulges on each side of a narrow ridge. Her eyes, which were set deep, were a sparkling shade of green, like an Earth feline's. Her movements were fluid. Icheb was captivated whenever they were close to one another.

Perhaps the physicality of the class they shared had something to do with it. On several occasions they'd been partnered in practice combat situations, either as the defender or the aggressor. By the fourth time they were paired, Icheb thought their close proximity to one another was affecting his ability to breathe whenever they touched. After that class, Jolana bumped into Icheb as they were exiting the classroom. She apologized, but her body leaned against Icheb's for much longer than necessary. Icheb became extremely flustered, aware of multiple changes in his body chemistry that had nothing to do with the environmental control settings in the corridor.

"I love your face jewelry," Jolana breathed in his ear. Icheb couldn't seem to find any way to respond as she slipped her hand inside his elbow and directed him down the corridor. Two hours later, after Jolana had invited him to her private room in Montgomery Scott Hall "to get better acquainted," Icheb was initiated into the joys of sexual intercourse.

As they cuddled with each other in her bunk afterwards, Icheb reviewed the fragments of memories inherited from other Borg's pre-assimilation memories and came to the conclusion that all those months ago, when Tom Paris told Icheb that those memories were nothing compared to what it was like to perform the actual act, Tom had been absolutely right.

Icheb decided he must be in love.

For the next few weeks, when Icheb wasn't in class or studying, he spent the bulk of his time with Jolana. The sex was marvelous. She taught him something new almost every time they were together. Getting to know her was a little more difficult, however. Jolana usually deflected talk away from herself in favor of flattering him. When they spoke casually, the subject always seemed to be his life on Voyager. He told her about the rescue from the ruined Borg cube, and how adjusting to the life and choices of an individual was difficult at first. He spoke about his little sister Mezoti, who'd remained behind in the Delta Quadrant with their other "Borglet siblings," other than baby Aimee. She asked questions about alien races and learned about Icheb's life on Quarra. While there were many experiences he was still reluctant to share with her, he assumed they'd share more with each other in time.

When he did venture back to his suite to spend any length of time with his suitemates, he told them how perfect his Jolana was. They listened politely, but not with the enthusiasm he'd expected. He knew Verit was unlikely to be jealous (or be willing to express it even if she was), but Farys only said Jolana was "pretty enough," and Austin told him, "If she lets you do all the talking, no wonder you think she's perfect."

About three weeks after their relationship began, Jolana started to open up a little more around Icheb. While she still didn't reveal much about life on Ktaria VII (she never called her native planet Ktaris, Icheb noticed), she did make little comments about other people they knew which Icheb sometimes thought were a bit harsh.

At one point, Jolana was quite dismissive of Icheb's "little friend from Voyager." At first he thought she was referring to Aimee Gilmore, since he'd been talking about how he used to take care of her when they were living on Quarra. Then he realized she might be referring to Naomi. When Icheb asked her to confirm the "little friend's" identity, she said, "The half-Ktarian, of course. She'll be pretty enough when she's grown up, but that's probably because she's half human. Her father's people, the ones who call our planet Ktaris, are very different from us. They're so boring. They don't know how to have fun. We do."

Icheb changed the subject on that occasion, but over the next couple of days, he realized that when Icheb wasn't speaking about himself -- which was boring to him -- Jolana made a lot of cutting remarks about other cadets, not to mention the professors. Always, "just between us, of course."

The following Friday evening, he told Jolana he had a paper to write and would be too busy to go out on Saturday or Sunday. "Oh, you poor dear. You won't have any fun at all, will you?" But she said she had her own work to do and would check with him on Sunday evening, in case he finished his assignment earlier than anticipated.

In fact, his paper was done shortly before noon on Saturday. Rather than let her know he was free, Icheb began to think about how suddenly his life had changed. While the sex was absolutely glorious, having to talk about himself all the time to prevent hearing his girlfriend's negative opinions about their acquaintances was not.

Farys and Austin were both visiting friends off campus that weekend, but Verit was there, as she usually was on weekends. Verit asked Icheb where his girlfriend was, and he said they both had "something else to take care of." She was not fooled. Verit asked Icheb what was bothering him. His first response was, "Nothing," but when Verit gave him that intense Vulcan stare of hers, he found himself "spilling his guts." After a brief pause, Icheb asked Verit what she really thought of Jolana Tor.

She gazed at him in the same measuring way he remembered from the first day they'd met. Finally, she broke her silence. "Icheb, you are a most unusual person -- and not just because you are the only Brunali in this quadrant. Most males of my acquaintance wouldn't even notice if their lover seldom disclosed her own thoughts and always encouraged him to speak about himself. When she does share an opinion, from what you say, it's in the form of what humans call 'catty' remarks." Verit paused and added, "She does look somewhat feline."

A little stung, Icheb responded, "Isn't that comment a little catty, too, Verit?"

Verit raised her eyebrow in the subtle manner that showed amusement. "Perhaps it was, but you asked for my opinion of Jolana Tor. She does not impress me as being as attached to you as you are to her. You may enjoy the physical nature of your relationship, but I doubt it is likely to last for long. From my observations of you during the past few months, I find you are, by nature, very accepting of other people and their foibles. Your friendship with 'Quinton' is a prime example of this willingness to accept a person as they are, without judging them. I've never heard you make disparaging remarks about other people. You present yourself to others without pretense -- or if you do, I've never seen you do it. If 'cracks' are beginning to show in your relationship, it is because you view people very differently from the way she does. You are open with others. She is as closed off as a Vulcan, not because she adheres to a philosophy like the one my people follow, but because she's hiding something from you. Such behavior is the opposite of true intimacy."

"Verit, how do you know all this? Is it something you've learned through meditation?"

"This has nothing to do with the practice of meditation, Icheb. When you described the way you spend your time with your girlfriend, you revealed this to me. It is as I've said -- you're open with others and let them see your soul. I have been acquainted with Cadet Tor for almost two years. I've already formed my opinion of her. If you truly love her, your relationship will be difficult because of the fundamental differences between you. Are you in love with her?"

"I thought I was. I don't know anymore."

"You need to speak with her about this, Icheb. I predict she will not respond the way you'd like her to, but I may be mistaken."

Verit arose from the table and began to walk into her bedchamber, but she suddenly reversed course and said, "Icheb, I've never mentioned my practice of meditation to you or anyone else. I restrict this activity to the privacy of my room. How do you know about it?"

He sighed. "When you serve on a ship as small as Voyager, you notice things. Whenever you've reported you've had a difficult day, you retreat to your room. When you emerge, your equilibrium has been restored. I've also recognized a faint whiff of smoke I associate with a meditation lamp coming from your room. The same odor permeated Commander Tuvok's quarters whenever I entered it for a tutoring session. Everyone on Voyager knew he practiced meditation. He taught it to many of the crew. I made a logical deduction. Was I wrong?"

Verit returned to the seat at the table she'd just abandoned. "I find no fault in your logic. What else have you 'learned' about Vulcans during your time on Voyager?" The tone of her voice was mild, but Icheb heard an undertone of challenge in it.

"Please, don't take offense, but I know, contrary to popular opinion, that Vulcans experience emotions, sometimes very strong ones, which can be difficult to manage according to your culture's dictates. The practice of meditation is one method used to control them."

For a few minutes after Icheb's statement, the only sound in the room was that of the suitemates' breathing. When the rumble of circulating air erupted from the environmental control system vents, it was almost deafening. Shortly afterwards, Verit broke the spell of silence.

"Icheb Hansen, you are a very good person. I cannot tell you what to do about your relationship with Jolana Tor. You must decide that for yourself. If you wish to seek advice, your adoptive mother Annika Hansen undoubtedly would be a better resource than I. However, since you asked for my opinion, I will share it with you. You are wasting your affections on Jolana Tor. She will not return them to the same degree that you bestow them on her."

=/\=

Icheb wasn't as certain as Verit that Seven could advise him on romantic matters, considering her relative lack of experience in that regard. As far as Icheb knew, other than her current partnership with Chakotay, her only other romance had taken place with Axum in the virtual reality setting of Unimatrix Zero. Icheb did love his mother, however, and whether she had any advice to give him or not, he knew he should confide his uneasiness about Jolana with her.

A week after he'd bared his soul to his Vulcan suitemate, Icheb contacted Seven, who invited him to spend Sunday afternoon with her. When Icheb learned Chakotay was also going to be there, he felt a little more confident that he'd receive a measure of guidance from the visit. Thanks to the rumor mill on Voyager, Icheb was aware of several romantic episodes experienced by the ship's first officer during the journey through the Delta Quadrant. He was also the man who might someday become his stepfather. Although when he was honest with himself, Icheb knew he felt closer to Tom Paris, or even Harry Kim, than he did to Chakotay, perhaps asking for Chakotay's opinion would help them build a closer relationship.

When Icheb arrived at the cottage that afternoon, however, he never felt comfortable enough to open a dialog about Jolana with either Seven or Chakotay. While Icheb didn't walk into a serious fight, like he did that time in Borg Central, as soon as Icheb walked inside the cottage, he sensed a tension between Seven and Chakotay. This was not a good time to speak about problems of a romantic nature to the couple, nor was it wise for Icheb to explore the question about when, or if, Chakotay planned to adopt him.

They shared a light meal, a salad for Chakotay and replicated nutritional supplements for Seven and Icheb. The conversation at the table was stilted. The primary subject discussed was which flowers the pair would choose to grow, as their garden was a relatively large one for the neighborhood. When Icheb suggested they go outside after dinner to map out where to plant their choices, neither Seven nor Chakotay were "in the mood" to do that this evening.

Not long after that, Icheb told them he needed to get back to his room to complete a project (an imaginary one, but they didn't need to know that). After taking his leave of Chakotay, he walked out of the house with his mother and asked Seven if everything was all right between them.

"Just a small disagreement," she replied. "You have no need to be concerned." Even more than the contents of her response, he was dismayed by the way she said it. Seven would have replied with the identical lack of inflection before the removal of her emotional inhibitor chip.

Icheb walked back to the campus to give himself the opportunity to reflect upon his perceptions. The disagreement, he was certain, was anything but small. He couldn't help but worry. The more he tried to ignore the signs of profound discord between Seven and Chakotay, the more concerned he became.

=/\=

When Icheb woke up several mornings later, he discovered a message Jolana had left for him over the Academy communications network. :::Icheb, it's been great, but it's not really working between us anymore, is it? You're a great guy. It's been fun. See you in class.:::

And it was over.

When Icheb came into their common room, Farys asked, sympathetically, "Icheb, are you okay?"

"Okay? Yes, I guess so."

"You look a little sick, ol' buddy. Hey, it happens to all of us. Better to break up now, before you get in too deep," Austin said, nodding sagely.

Icheb stopped in his tracks. "Breaking up? Yeah, we did break up. How did you know?"

Farys explained, "I saw Jolana draped all over Xerxes Mironov in Vanetti's Pizzaria last night. You broke up with her before last night, I hope?"

"I, uh, well, I only read her message this morning. I didn't notice what time she sent it."

"She broke up with you by sending you a message! By the Prophets! That's disgusting. Not that I'd expect any better from her. So are you okay? Really?"

Icheb took his accustomed seat at the table next to Austin and thought about Farys' question for a few moments. He was surprised to find his earlier answer, about being "okay," was accurate. "I guess I am. I'm disappointed it didn't work out between us, but I can't say I'm devastated, either. Maybe I'm just stunned."

Austin said, "Don't worry. You'll find someone a lot better than Jolana Tor. She's the type who doesn't stick with anyone for long. You were just a novelty boyfriend -- another notch on her bedpost. From what I've heard, you're not the first guy she's thrown over without facing him in person. With that catchy face jewelry of yours, Icheb, you'll have to careful about others like Jolana who just want to have a fling with Cadet Icheb Hansen, 'from the very famous starship Voyager.' You'd best watch out for them, Buddy."

Since Verit had previously expressed similar reservations about Icheb's choice of girlfriend, he turned to her and said, "You can say, 'I told you so,' Verit."

Verit's elegantly expressive eyebrow flicked upward but retreated to its normal position almost immediately. "There is no need. Your disappointment will be temporary. You knew this was coming weeks ago. She was not worthy of you, Icheb."

Icheb had to smile at her blunt, but accurate, assessment of how he felt. Icheb sighed, got up, and walked over to the replicator and fixed himself a hearty breakfast. He was very hungry and swiftly wolfed down two servings of banana pancakes.

"You're already over her," Austin joshed. "You sure haven't lost your appetite."

=/\=

Stardate 55313.5  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

When I walked into my combat skills training class this morning, Jolana wasn't there. It was a relief. I didn't have to worry about being paired with her in any activities. At the end of the class, Sa'eri Maduk, my instructor, called me over and told me Jolana had requested a transfer to the other section of the class, which meets on different days of the week. He seemed a little reluctant to tell me, and then he said, "I realize you two have become very close . . . friends recently. Did she tell you she was planning on making this change?"

I told him she had not, but it didn't matter. Our friendship wasn't exclusive. He seemed quite relieved. When I asked if the fact there were now an odd number of students in this session would pose a problem, he said it shouldn't. "People are absent every now and then anyway. We always have to work around the numbers. You're one of several students who are ready to learn techniques for taking on more than one opponent at a time. I'll start introducing those skills during our next class. It will all work out fine."

When I walked out of the gym where the combat skills class is held, I realized what I'd told Mr. Maduk was true. Our friendship certainly wasn't "exclusive," not anymore. I have a hunch that it never was, from Jolana's point of view. My friends are right. I am already over her, but I'd still like to gain some perspective about what happened from someone who has more experience with romance.

At this point, consulting Chakotay is out of the question. Harry Kim had a chain of unfulfilling romantic affairs on Voyager. He sometimes seems as clueless as me, even if I ignore his current situation with Libby Byrd -- or maybe because of it. And when I remember how eager the Doctor was to give me advice about the "romantic overtures" I thought B'Elanna was sending me that time on Voyager --which I now think was a little on the creepy side -- I'd rather talk to anyone else about the subject. Naomi would probably give me better advice!

Of course, the best "anyone else" was the person I should have approached when I first became confused by Jolana's behavior. I think I can count on his advice not being creepy. He might even make me laugh about what happened.

=/\=

"Tom, how do you know when you're really in love?" Icheb asked, after "just dropping in" at the Paris/Torres home. He'd wanted to time his visit well, so he contacted them just before the dinner hour. They were able to tell him what time he should arrive to avoid any interference with their nightly routine.  Icheb had a chance to play with Miral. Thanks to her Klingon ancestry, Miral was very mobile for her age. He delighted the parents by telling them how beautiful their daughter was getting to be -- and so smart, too!

He'd timed his question to Tom well, too. B'Elanna had just carried the baby off to her bedroom for the bedtime ritual of nursing and singing her to sleep. Icheb didn't feel comfortable talking about this particular subject in front of B'Elanna, considering his misinterpretation of her friendliness for a sexual come-on when they were on Voyager.

"I thought you might have another reason to visit us tonight. I'm always happy when someone tells us how terrific our daughter is. I never get tired of hearing that from you, or anyone else I know, for that matter. I have heard a rumor you've been seen around campus with a pretty Ktarian girl who isn't named Naomi Wildman. It's over, I take it? "

Icheb related the history of his relationship with Jolana Tor. When his story was over, Tom commiserated with him. "You seem to be getting over her okay, so I'm certain what you felt was infatuation, not love. Thanks to her, you know what sex is like from first-hand experience, at least. Even though it's over, you've gained something from it. Was it all you expected?"

"It was pretty great," Icheb admitted with a pained chuckle. "I guess I'll miss that the most about Jolana. Our conversations were pretty shallow, now that I think back on them."

"Making love will be even better when you're truly in love with your partner. I guarantee you won't find the conversations 'shallow' then, either. Sharing your feelings will be really important to you then. From what you say, this Jolana didn't really open herself up to you."

"No, she always wanted to talk about me. At first I was flattered by that, but after a while, it got to be boring. Tana Farys, one of my suitemates, said most guys love talking about themselves all the time. She said I was the first guy she ever heard complain about it."

"Here's hoping Jolana isn't planning on publishing a holonovel exposé about 'life on the infamous ship Voyager.' She's not majoring in Journalism, is she?"

"That isn't a major at the Academy now. Was it in your day?"

"'My day!' Ouch!" Tom grimaced, as if in pain. "I've got to admit, it's been a few years since I was there with Laren, but I was joking about the Journalism part. Even in 'my day,' the Academy wasn't the place to go if you wanted to major in that subject."

"Laren -- that's Vedek Rikaar Larys, right? B'Elanna told me you were friends at the Academy when we were at your mother's dinner."

"Yes, she was." Tom hesitated for a moment before continuing, "You do know her name was Ro Laren then, right?"

"The Ro Laren who defected from Starfleet?"

"Yes. One and the same."

"She went from Starfleet, to the Maquis, to a religious order on Bajor?"

"Yes, quite a journey. I don't think I have time to tell you all about it tonight."

"You don't want to talk about her in front of B'Elanna, I guess."

"Oh, that doesn't matter. Thanks to the unlovely Seska, B'Elanna knew all about Laren and me before I ever had a chance to meet her. We were in the same Maquis cell at the time, but I never met B'Elanna until the Caretaker snagged our ships and dragged them into the Delta Quadrant. No, I was infatuated lots of times when I was your age, Icheb, and even a few times afterwards, but I've only been in love twice in my life. With B'Elanna, of course. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's really a miracle we both landed in the one place where our love for each other would have time to develop and flourish." Tom stopped speaking for a moment and looked away from Icheb as a slow smile spread across his face. "It took six years for us to finally understand we were meant to be together. Since then, it's been good. So good."

"And the other time, you were in love with Laren?"

Tom sighed. "Yeah. We were good friends at the Academy, but when we met again in the Maquis, we were ready for something more. But then I was captured by Starfleet. I was sure I'd never see her again even before I ended up in the Delta Quadrant. And now it turns out my mother has basically adopted Laren and her family! But it's all good. Laren and B'Elanna were friends in the Maquis. They've always respected each other." Tom bent his head down and made a show of looking over his shoulder to check on the location of his wife, but his chuckling let Icheb know it was all a joke when he whispered, "Although it is true my B'Elanna can be a wee bit possessive sometimes." Icheb began to laugh along with Tom, knowing how intensely B'Elanna could react to any threat she perceived to those she loved.  

"Seriously, B'Elanna knows there's nothing other than familial affection between Laren and me now. She's my third sister. Laren claims her own Tom is her 'perfect mate', and I know B'Elanna's perfect for me. Laren says her Prophets planned it that way. Maybe they did. Laren lost her own family during the Occupation, you know, but now she has another. It's like the way you and Seven became a family, although with my mom, there was no official court hearing or anything. Mom always liked Laren when she was at the Academy with me. She spent the school holidays with our family. Mom went to Bajor after she thought I was dead. That's when they met again. Laren says she's the one who adopted my mom so her little Tommy would have a grandmother. Mom loves him just as much as she does Miral and my sister's son."

Icheb had an easier time digesting the adoption part of Tom's story than he did about Tom's explanation about how he now felt about Laren. Finally, Icheb admitted, "I guess I don't understand how love works. You were her friend, and then you became lovers, and now you're really okay having Laren be like your sister? Is that possible?"

"To fall in love with someone you've known a long time as a friend? Sure. There's a tradition on Earth of falling in love with the 'girl next door.' It happens. Yes, we were really just friends, best friends even, when we were at the Academy, but nothing more. We'd never had any romantic feelings for each . . . well, wait. Let me be honest. I would have welcomed a romance with her when we were cadets, but there were certain . . . barriers back then. It's not my place to explain that part to you, Icheb. However, since she was my friend, she always gave me very blunt assessments about my dates. Girls who were interested in me always tried to get on her good side so they'd get a favorable review. She thought that was very funny."

"So love is complicated."

"It's complicated and simple at the same time, Icheb. It's not a bad thing to have a 'first love' that doesn't work out. That's pretty traditional, too. Many people become infatuated with more than one person before they find the one that's truly 'The One.' Sometimes you fall in love with someone who might actually be 'The One,' but something separates you. I mean, not to be depressing or anything, but widows and widowers do sometimes find another person to love after they've lost their spouse."

"You mean like Harry and Libby?"

"Umm. Probably not the best example. Hey, maybe I'm too hard on the girl. Maybe it will turn out okay for them." Tom cleared his throat and said, "My point is, just give yourself time. Don't settle for the first girl who throws herself at you. You deserve better than that."

"My suitemates agree with you. They say I'm better off without Jolana. And it's true that I was getting distracted from my studies when we were going out on dates." Icheb wanted to add that he was even more distracted when they stayed in, but he decided that was too much information. Fortunately, Tom's attention was caught by Icheb's admission about his studies.

"Your suitemates know the situation better than I do. It's not good if you were paying more attention to your social life when you were with her than to your studies. If I had it to do over again, I'd try not to be such a social animal at the Academy. I would have been a lot better off if I'd studied for every class the way I did for the ones I really liked. You know how we were forced into doing a little of everything on Voyager. We'd never have gotten home just on what I learned at the Academy. If not for people like B'Elanna, and the captain, and Seven -- and you -- I'm willing to bet we'd still be wandering through Hirogen territory."

"What a nice thing to say," B'Elanna commented as she entered the living area. "So, Icheb, are you here tonight because you need advice from Mr. Lonelyhearts here?"

Icheb laughed and admitted, "I did need advice from 'Mr. Lonelyhearts,' and he's given it to me. I broke up . . . well, the truth is, I was dumped by my girlfriend. The odd thing is, I don't think I'm really all that upset about it now."

B'Elanna sat down next to Tom and said, "Then you'll be okay. You're not a loner, are you? You have friends at the Academy?"

"My suitemates are great."

"I never made it all the way through, you know. I dropped out in my second year."

"Professor Chapman mentioned that. He was sorry when you did, B'Elanna."

"I know. I've spoken to him since we've been back. He examined me and gave me passing grades in every Engineering course he teaches. He helped me qualify for my unofficial-official graduation from the Academy -- based on time served in the Delta Quadrant, I think. A lot like what happened to Tom when he had his Out-Mate Review from Auckland." She looked over at Tom and smiled so sweetly, Icheb got the idea it might be time for him to leave them to their own company for the rest of the evening.

Tom confirmed this impression by his next comment. "B'Elanna, do you have any advice for our not-so-lovelorn Cadet Hansen so he can slip into his suite before curfew?"

"Only that Academy romances are often pretty shallow, no matter how hot and heavy they may get. I know that from experience, thanks to Max Burke. He called me B.L.T. and thought I'd be flattered. Honestly, I never did like it that much. And then, when we met up again . . . grrrrr."

"I guess I'm glad I had the 'hot and heavy' experience, but I think I'm better off sticking with my studies until I've graduated and established myself as an officer."

"That may be a good idea," Tom said, putting his arm around his wife's shoulders as they walked Icheb to the apartment door. "However -- you know there had to be a 'however' in there, right? Maybe the best way to look at it is to have fun with your friends, but until you find the person you really can't live without, don't try to plan out your life. To quote your Mom, 'It's inefficient.'  B'Elanna and I never met in the Maquis, even though we were more or less in the same cell, but despite incarcerations and getting thrown 70,000 light years away from home, we found each other. When the time is right, you'll find the person you were meant to love. Don't rush it."

As he left his friends' apartment building and walked to the transit station to transport back to campus, Icheb found himself thinking of Seven and Chakotay. Like Tom and B'Elanna, they'd met on Voyager. But whenever Icheb observed Tom and B'Elanna together, he could tell how much they loved one another. It may have taken years before they admitted their feelings for each other, but once they did, they were "all in," as Austin would say.

Seven's romance with Chakotay was nothing like Tom and B'Elanna's. Perhaps if they'd also had years for their love to grow in the limited environment of Voyager, traveling through the Delta Quadrant, the pair might have formed a very strong bond. Now that they were on Earth, Seven and Chakotay didn't seem to be growing closer to each other. Every time he saw them together, the cracks in their relationship were clearer to see. Any day, Icheb was sure he'd hear that it was over between them.

Maybe he wasn't assessing things clearly. He'd never been in favor of Seven and Chakotay's relationship. Since their personalities were so different, he'd never understood how they became lovers in the first place. While Tom and B'Elanna had made their very different personalities work for them, Icheb didn't see this happening with Seven and Chakotay.

If they did go their separate ways, Icheb hoped they would find a way to remain friends. While Icheb wanted this for the sake of the entire Voyager family, he also had to admit he hoped it for himself. Seven would take the end of this romance very hard. Losing her first "in the flesh" lover would bring her pain. Icheb hated to see her suffer, and he had no illusions that it would be easy on Chakotay, either.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 55324.5

Masseni came to call today and delivered wonderful news from Neelix. Voyager arrived home several months ago. Almost everyone is well. Most of his news was good, but there was one piece of very sad news. Lieutenant Carey was killed just a few weeks before Neelix found the Talaxian colony where he now lives. He said he was sorry he did not tell me about Lieutenant Carey before, but he didn't want to upset me in his first message.

He had more good news. He and Dexa are married. Brax is fond of his "new dad," which I was pleased to hear. They're very happy. Brax loves the idea of becoming my pen pal and sent me his own message about his life in the asteroid. I'm preparing one to send back Brax.

The best news of all, as far as I am concerned, is that Neelix sent along the schematics for a powerful communication system that will allow us to communicate directly with each other for a limited part of every day, if it's set up properly. It involves bouncing the signal a certain way off quantum singularities. Arebi examined the schematics, and he confirmed that Wysanti technology should be able to handle the construction of this device. It won't be exactly like speaking over subspace, but it's better than having to wait for months to share news. And maybe Brax and I can be datastream pals. That would be better than pen pals.

Arebi believes this communication technology will be of interest to Deveron Marin and the rest of the leadership. Masseni told us he was authorized to deliver the same set of schematics and instructions to the Antareans. The leadership of the Federation wants to strengthen ties between the peoples of the Alpha Quadrant and the Delta Quadrant like the Wysanti and Ambassador O'Zaal's planet. Captain Janeway must have convinced Starfleet to share this technology. Perhaps Seven and Icheb had something to do with it, too. I would like to think so.

Neelix inquired if we have had any former Borg drones come to the Wysanti world for help, because many have been coming to planets in the sectors near Talax II. He sent this as a warning, but since we've already had Borg Resistance ships land here, it wasn't necessary. The reply I prepared after we met with Captain Korok already includes this information.

Masseni said he's sorry we won't need him to exchange messages with Neelix once our version of the Pathfinder network is operational, but Arebi told him he was welcome to come visit whenever he wishes. We're grateful for his help. Just by delivering the schematics and instructions on how to build this device, he has provided a great service. Arebi looked at me then and added, "Who knows? Perhaps someone from here will want to go on a trading trip with you someday." I'm glad my foster parents understand now. They say I remind them of their lost daughter Barini, Azan and Rebi's mother. I know they loved her very much, and they've taken very good care of me. But I'm not Barini.

=/\=  

On Stardate 55410, Icheb received a communique from Admiral Paris.

:::Icheb, I have what I hope will be a pleasant surprise for you. Several months ago, Ambassador Neelix told me he'd met a Norvalen trader named Masseni, who sometimes visited the Wysanti. This trader agreed to deliver messages between Talax II and your sister Mezoti. Neelix didn't want me to say anything about this to you or Seven until he'd received a reply from Mezoti, in case something happened and the message exchanges couldn't take place.

:::As you will see when you read the messages, she actually sent two of them to Neelix, but she left instructions to share them with you, too. Another message was marked private and is addressed to you. I haven't read that one, since it's just for you, but the others contain information that will, I'm sure, be just as interesting for you to read as they were for me. I'm very impressed with your sister.  My son told me you're very attached to her. I can see why. If she has any interesting details from your letter that you'd be willing to share with me, I'd be glad to hear them. Enjoy!

:::Admiral Owen Paris, Director, Project Pathfinder  

=/\=

Icheb was stunned. Contact with his sister? To be able to exchange messages with her? Perhaps he shouldn't be that surprised. The datastream system had been operational even before the five Borg children arrived on Voyager. He'd been able to speak with Neelix through Project Watson since the return to the Alpha Quadrant. He'd even been able to view Neelix and Dexa's wedding ceremony. And now, thanks to the same technology, he would be able to exchange messages with Mezoti. He quickly opened the first message by date and was delighted to discover it was a visual recording.

:::Stardate 55233.8

:::Dear Neelix, Greetings!

:::I am recording this message to let you know that former Borg have been arriving on Wysanti over the past several weeks. They're all like our Children's Collective and Seven. They've been disconnected from the Queen's control and are individuals now. The drones said they were freed from the Collective after Captain Janeway's Unimatrix Zero action. Many have been very ill, however. Failing implants were poisoning their Borg systems as well as their flesh. The nanoprobes in their bodies could not keep up with the healing process.

::: I recalled that our EMH left detailed directions with the physicians who care for Rebi, Azan, and me on how to evaluate the functioning of our implants and when to remove them if they are not. He also gave the physicians information about modifying malfunctioning nanoprobes, and how to disable the "drone making function." The hospital staff reports that the procedure to disable the assimilation tubules is something every drone has asked to be done as soon as possible, even before they are fully healed from their injuries. They say they don't want to assimilate anyone ever again.

:::Since the first Borg vessels entered orbit, eleven others have arrived. Once their crews recovered, their ships began gathering in an unpopulated system nearby. They have no desire to resume any sort of collective mind. In fact, all are quite happy with their individuality. Several of the ships are under the direction of Captain Korok. Do you remember him? We met him when he came to speak with us on Voyager, after his ship helped us rescue the captain, Commander Tuvok, and Lieutenant Torres. He came to thank us for providing the medical care his Borg Resistance drones required. He left today to look for other Borg ships, whether they are connected to the Hive or not. If any Borg who is an individual needs help, our leaders told him to send them here. Our doctors have experience with how to treat them now.

:::We also wish to let you know that a large number of fields of debris, like the one Voyager passed by on its way to Wysanti, have been discovered by the former Borg and other space travelers who have visited this planet. The only Borg ships that we know are intact are controlled by the Borg Resistance. We believe the Collective has suffered some sort of catastrophe that has killed many of its drones. Since you say you are in contact with the Federation, you should let them know about this. Perhaps they can let you know if the same thing has been happening in the Alpha Quadrant.

:::I must confess I've often had misgivings about remaining on Wysanti since I left Voyager. Arebi and Mazani are extremely good to me, but I miss Seven and Icheb. I find my life experience has been too different from others my age for my contemporaries to relate to me or understand me. I continue to be the outsider. I notice this more because Naomi accepted me from the beginning. She made me her friend as soon as I arrived on Voyager. While Azan and Rebi are also outsiders, they play sports and have teammates. They've adjusted to life here with their grandparents, since they are best friends with each other. On a planet full of people, I find I am lonely. Mazani and Arebi care for me very much, and they try to help, but I know now that I really was meant to live my life in space.

:::If the Federation establishes a method of direct communication that would extend between Talax II and Wysanti, please ask them if you can share this knowledge with us. I would find it much easier living here if I could speak with you directly. It would also help the Wysanti. This planet is a little out of the way of other space-faring species. My visits to the former Borg when they were treated in Wysanti hospitals were as good for me as they were for them. Because I was here, I could be of service to people like me, who once were Borg. While this has made me feel a little better about choosing to remain here, I do wish I could see you all again.

::: I will continue to add to this recording until Masseni comes to take my messages to you, Neelix. So far, of the 497 former drones who have come here for treatment, 478 have survived. I will update these numbers and report them whenever I have the opportunity.

:::I hope this communication finds you well. I long to hear from you and see you again.

 ::: Your friend, Mezoti

(Please share this message with Seven and Icheb, if you can.):::

=/\=

::: Star Date 55325.4 --

:::Dear Neelix,

:::I was so happy to hear you are married to Dexa. Brax is very lucky to have you for a father. Naomi always said how good you were to her. I'm glad you found your people, and they accepted you as one of them. The Talaxians must be wiser than the Norcadi.

:::Masseni came to us with your message and with the schematics for Project Watson. As you can see from the message I recorded for you some time ago, the Wysanti  have had the same experience with the Borg Resistance Movement that you mentioned. When Captain Korok visited our planet, he told us the same thing. None of the scout ships or spheres that have come to Wysanti as of this time have encountered any Borg vessels which are still connected to the Queen; but until they are sure none are left to threaten any of us, the Resistance will continue to be vigilant.

:::This message may turn out to be a duplicate if we are able to use Project Watson before Masseni returns to Talax II. Masseni has become our friend, and we will look forward to his visits even if he no longer has to perform a messenger service between us. I enjoyed seeing Brax's message. I do want to be his pen  pal. I've sent him a letter along with this one to you. If the Project Watson system works, however, we will be better than penpals. We'll be datastream pals. We may be able to speak directly to each other on days when the Wysanti leaders don't need to use all the time for communication with you and those on other planets. I hope I do get a chance to speak directly with Brax sometimes. That would be fun.

:::I'm also glad you'll to be able to forward my messages to the Alpha Quadrant. I never expected I would be able communicate with Seven and Icheb so directly ever again. If the datastream works as it should, we'll be able to send replies within days of receiving messages from each other. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to learn that.

:::Your news about Lieutenant Carey is very sad. I was having a very difficult time when I received your first message. You were wise not to give me the bad news then. It would have upset me even more then than it does now.

:::I'm very glad you decided to stay in the Delta Quadrant, too. It's good to know I still have a friend here who knows me from my days on Voyager. Maybe someday I'll even be able to visit you on Talax II. I hope so.

:::Mezoti (Share this message with Seven and Icheb, too):::

When Icheb first caught sight of Mezoti's face as she delivered these first two messages to Neelix, he again felt the stabbing pain of loss. She should be here with Seven and him, not far away, with Azan and Rebi. She'd found a way to be of service by helping the Borg who had come to Wysanti for medical care, but it saddened him, just the same. Seeing her face and hearing her voice reminded him, even more than his memories, of how difficult their separation had been. He missed her more than ever. He should have tried harder to convince her to stay on Voyager. When he viewed her personal letter to him, he was able to see, from the way she stared into the imaging mechanism, along with the occasional catch he detected in her voice, that his little sister felt the same way.

:::Dear Icheb,

:::Isn't it amazing? We'll be able to communicate with each other. It seems too good to be true. I'm glad you'll soon be able to tell me how you're doing at the Academy. I know it's what you wanted. I hope it's all you expected it to be.

:::It's difficult for me here, even after all of this time. Perhaps the Norcadi are closer in personality to humans and Bajorans than they are to the Wysanti, because I always enjoyed my visits with the crew when I was living on Voyager. Maybe it was because they all had been traveling together for such a long time, far away from their family and friends. They made us feel welcome, didn't they? My teachers and many of the people I've met here have been cordial to me, but I've never been able to get over my feeling of being different. They're nice, but only Arebi and Mazani have made me feel like they truly care about me and want me to live on their planet forever.

::: My life as a Borg, even though I was never more than a neonatal drone, may have ruined me for life on a planet like this. When I saw Captain Korok coming towards me -- I guess I should call him General Korok now, because that's how the drones on his ship address him -- I felt like I'd always known him, almost as soon as our visit began. We were already friends. It was the same with the drones I visited in the hospital. We shared an experience as Borg that I think frightens the Wysanti people I meet. I guess it would have been worse if I'd been taken back to my home planet. They only wanted to forget me when Captain Janeway asked them to find a family I could live with there.

:::Azan and Rebi are still Azan and Rebi, if you know what I mean. They don't appreciate how wonderful their grandparents really are. I think they take them for granted. I don't, but as much as I'd like to be like Mazani and Arebi's daughter Barini, I can't be. I'm me, Mezoti. Their daughter was a very lucky female to have them as parents. I'm lucky they fostered me. They truly do accept me, but I find I can't be their daughter in the same way I was your sister.

:::You were right. You told me I could stay with Seven and you. I should have changed my mind and stayed on Voyager. If I could have looked into the future, I would have; but I must live with the consequences of my choice. Since I will be able to communicate with Seven and with you from now on, perhaps I'll be able to live with those consequences better than I have so far. I made a mistake coming here, but at least we'll be able to share a little of our lives through the Project Pathfinder technology.

:::But don't you make the mistake of thinking I'm better off here. I'm not. Please never forget me. I should be with you and Seven. Mazani and Arebi told me that if you do ever come back to take me away with you, they won't stop you. They see how it is with me. We all know where my true family lives. I would love to be able to be with you again.

:::I will send messages to you through Neelix whenever I have news. You may be hearing from me very often! If you get the chance, please send me your news, too. Let me see your face and hear your voice. It will please me very much.

:::Write soon.

:::Your sister,

               Mezoti:::

=/\=

Icheb listened to his messages three times in rapid succession. After the third viewing, he had to leave for Professor Reagan's Astrophysics class, but when he came home for lunch, he watched them again. Before leaving for his next class, Icheb backed them up on one of his PADDs. Afterwards, he jotted down a few notes on what he wanted say about his life at the Academy when he replied to her. Perhaps he would introduce Verit, Austin, and Farys to her. He could invite Naomi to participate. But maybe he should contact Seven first, to decide if they should each send a communication to Mezoti, or would she be happier hearing from both of them in the same message? He mustn't forget to send a thank you to Neelix for finding this Masseni person. And he should remember to thank Admiral Paris and Reg Barclay, too, because of inventing Project Watson so they could correspond . . .

Icheb caught his breath. He realized he was spinning in too many directions all at once in his excitement over seeing Mezoti again. He told himself to calm down and deliberately plan out everything, so their communications would proceed in as efficient a manner as possible.

He'd lost his sister. He needed to keep her close in some way; and for the time being, these messages would have to do. Once he was commissioned as a Starfleet officer, however, he resolved to volunteer for any mission that would bring him into the Delta Quadrant. Icheb had to see Mezoti again in person, even if he had to travel for years to get to Wysanti to do it.

=/\=

Stardate 55414.7  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

We sent our first messages to Mezoti this afternoon. In the end, Seven and I decided to record one message together, one with a group of friends, and then we each made one of our own for her. We became very emotional, especially when we were delivering our individual messages. We did our best to control ourselves when the others came to the house. We'd invited Naomi and her parents to Seven's cottage and recorded the one with all of us together. Naomi introduced her father to Mezoti and promised to send her own letters regularly, too.

Naomi's father only knows Mezoti from the stories Naomi has shared with him or from the messages he had the opportunity to view with us before we recorded our replies. "I know what it's like to be separated from the important people in your life. I'm honored you allowed me to share this experience with you." He told me that Naomi and Sam both cried when they heard about the message relay; then he laughed when he confided that Naomi was going to record a separate message for Neelix, scolding him for not telling her about his contact with her friend before this. He said Naomi also plans to ask Brax if she can become his datastream pal, too.

The more I see of "Gres," which is what he says I should call him, the more I like him. From what I can see, Naomi has finally gotten used to sharing her mom with her dad. When we finished recording our group letter, she gave him a hug even before she hugged Sam.

Captain Janeway told us she would send Mezoti a separate message, since she's visiting her mother in Indiana right now. Chakotay wasn't here, either. He's off-planet for a week to attend a symposium about rehabilitating the colony worlds, such as Dorvan, which still need help restoring their environments from the damage inflicted by Cardassian attacks. I can't say I missed him. Seven seems much more relaxed whenever he's not around.

When I returned to my suite in Archer Hall, I recorded the short thank you letters I'd planned to send to Neelix, Admiral Paris, and Lieutenant Commander Barclay (he was just promoted because of his work on Project Pathfinder -- it's about time!).  I also prepared one for Masseni, the Norvalen trader whose willingness to provide a "messenger service" has made all of this possible. I don't actually know him yet, but I think he must be a very good person because of what he's done for Neelix and Mezoti. Although Azan and Rebi didn't appear in Mezoti's message, I included a short one to be sent through the datastream to the two of them, too.

Then I prepared one last communication for Mezoti, introducing her to my suitemates. Austin told her that if she ever comes to Earth, she must visit him in Texas! Farys was her usual friendly self, too; but I was most moved by what Verit had to say. She told Mezoti, "Your brother is a valued friend to all of us, but especially to me. He has praised you on many occasions. Because of the affection he expresses towards you, I know you must be someone I would wish to know. I would also like to become one of your 'datastream friends.' "

Of course, I'd mentioned Mezoti to my suitemates from time to time. When I showed them Mezoti's messages for the first time, however, I couldn't hold back my tears. They knew I hadn't wanted her to leave Voyager, but I'd never burdened them with the knowledge of just how painful her absence has been for me to endure. I spent hours telling them stories about Mezoti which I'd never shared before. They kept encouraging me to tell them more about her. They understand how I feel now. I'm so grateful to have them as my friends.

I've decided that I will keep a visual record of important things that happen to me so I can send them to Mezoti from time to time. I've also asked the Doctor if he would accompany me and record a tour of the Academy grounds. I'd like her to know what it looks like. I also asked him if he'd go with me on visits with Voyager crew members like Tom, B'Elanna, and Harry, so they can send her greetings, too. He was eager to begin immediately, but he wasn't shy about expressing his resentment that I'd failed to invite him to Seven's house for the first group message to Mezoti. I explained that we didn't want to overwhelm her with too many people at first. I think that placated him a little, but I know I'll definitely have to invite him to be part of  the next set of messages. He'll never forgive me if I don't.

I'm looking forward to exchanging letters with Mezoti from now on, but if I'm honest with myself, I know this will only help me so much. I still miss her terribly.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

When Icheb entered his suite, he felt a little bereft. That morning he'd said good-bye to Farys and Austin. His suitemates were scheduled to go on their field study sessions this summer. Farys and Austin were both spending short vacations with their families before going to their assignments. Verit was leaving for hers at a space station near Vulcan. She planned to take her vacation once her field placement ended. Since Icheb had been credited with this course because of his service on Voyager, Icheb would be alone in the suite until the beginning of September.

He was afraid he'd missed Verit, too, but when he heard a muffled Vulcan phrase that she would never have uttered if she'd known he was in the suite, he made a show of calling out to her, "Hey, are you still here, Verit?"

"Yes," she shouted back.

Icheb tossed the PADD he was carrying on the table. When he reached the vestibule outside her room, he knocked to let her know he was there. She called out for him to enter.

On the rare occasions that Icheb had been able to glance inside Verit's room, he'd been impressed by how immaculately clean and well-organized it was. Not today. Several storage crates and a regulation duffel bag were stacked in the center of the room. Heaps of clothing were jumbled on top of her bunk. Her desk was littered with PADDs and paper books she'd taken down from the shelving above it. The drawers and doors of her storage wall gaped open, with the objects she'd pulled out sitting on the floor. Some items related to others were in piles, suggesting she'd made an effort to organize her things, but clearly, the job was beginning to overwhelm her.

"Verit, you don't have to pack everything, you know. We've all been assigned to the same rooms for the fall session."

She looked askance at him, with her hair poking up from behind her ears in an uncharacteristic manner. As she straightened her back and assumed a more erect posture, she slipped her hands over her head in a futile attempt to flatten the errant strands. "I am aware we are all scheduled to occupy this suite, but my presence may not be . . . assured"

Icheb took a step backward. "You're not thinking of withdrawing from the Academy, are you?"

"I do not plan to withdraw, no. However, there are certain imperatives involved for members of my race, of which you are not aware. If these conditions arise, I may not be able to return to the Academy for the fall semester. In that case, this room may be reassigned."

"I hope those . . . conditions . . . won't arise then. Yet. I mean . . . well, I hope you'll be back . . . when scheduled."

The more Icheb stumbled over his words, the harder Verit stared at him. When he paused awkwardly, not knowing what else, or even if, he should continue speaking, she sighed visibly and stated, "There were Vulcans serving with you on Voyager. Obviously."

"You know my first tutor was Commander Tuvok. And I worked in Engineering with Ensign Vorik. There was a female named Ensign Terrin, and, well, you realize that Voyager was traveling through the Delta Quadrant for seven years, so . . . "

"And it was, if I recall what you've said on multiple occasions, a 'small ship.'"

"It was. I know of at least two cases during the ship's journey. One was diagnosed after I became Commander Tuvok's student. Tom Paris told me Tuvok had Tarkalean Flu, but I wasn't satisfied with that explanation. I couldn't see how he could've been exposed to that illness, so I researched his symptoms and discovered . . .  more than I'd expected to find." He stopped then, unsure of what more he could say, but then added simply, "I know you don't like to talk about this."

Clearing a couple of PADDs from her desk chair, Verit pointed to it, indicating that Icheb should take that seat, while she moved enough of her clothing from one corner of her bunk to make room for herself. "I don't know why I continue speaking in vague terms about such things around you, Icheb. You are very well informed about my culture. Many are curious, but only the perceptive few who have spent significant time with Vulcans, as you did on Voyager, are as familiar with our customs as you are; and you are circumspect about sensitive subjects. I find that rare for a human."

Icheb arched his eyebrow and smiled slightly. "Perhaps that is because I'm not human."

Her eyebrow flicked upward, displaying that slight sign of amusement she permitted herself. "Of course. I stand corrected. Perhaps that is why we get along so well. Both of us are outsiders on this world, even though your adoptive mother is human . . . and Borg. As you were Borg, to a degree at least -- if my recollections of what you told us about yourself on your first day here are accurate. If my next question makes you uncomfortable in any way, feel free to refuse to respond, but are the Brunali similar to humans in personality?"

Icheb stopped to ponder her question for a long moment. He could not say he was upset by the question, but it wasn't an easy one for him to answer. He finally decided the appropriate response was exactly that. "I've asked myself the same thing many times, Verit. I have few memories of my life on Brunal. What I do remember is tainted by the way my parents treated me. From the little I observed then, however, I would say they act more like humans than they do Vulcans . . . or Klingons. But there's so much variation between individual members of any given race, comparing two different species is difficult. I don't know if I've ever completely forgiven my parents for what they did to me, yet I've benefitted from it in ways they never anticipated. I realize I'm better off here, on Earth, than I ever would have been on my native planet."

He paused, shaking his head in confusion. "I don't know, Verit. Am I making any sense at all?"

"You are, Icheb. While my question was well-meant, it was impertinent, even rude. Please forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive. I'm still trying to understand all that's happened to me. I may never be able to." After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Icheb asked her, "Is there anything I can do to help you pack? Perhaps we can set certain things aside, to keep in storage, so if the time for your marriage to be fulfilled arrives and delays your return to the Academy, we can ship them to you. Or you can pick them up whenever you do return."

She nodded. "Both are logical suggestions. I find I've collected many material objects which are not essential to my daily life, although I'm not yet prepared to part with them permanently. Placing them in storage here would be advisable. I know I will return to the Academy at some point, even if it is not in the fall. I welcome any assistance you're willing to provide. My transport is scheduled to leave Earth orbit at 2130 hours."

At her direction, he placed most of her PADDs and books in one of the storage crates, earmarked for storage on Earth, while others were placed in the same duffel bag with her uniforms, boots, and personal items. She planned to bring these with her on her field placement. Icheb also took the time to carefully fit her meditation lamp and its supply of oil inside the metal case designed to transport it safely from one location to another. Verit packed most of her casual clothing, along with many other items, in luggage to be sent ahead to her family's home on Vulcan. A couple of crates were filled with objects she'd collected during her stay on Earth, including interesting specimens and testing equipment which she would not need this summer. The laboratory to which she'd been assigned would be fully equipped. Icheb offered to store those in the upper level storage cabinets in his room, since several of his were still empty.

In a very short time, with the exception of a few objects resting on her desk, the chamber again looked like Verit's room, perfectly neat and organized.

Pointing to the desk, Icheb said, "Verit, you haven't told me what to do with these two PADDs."

"One of those PADDs is not mine. Don't you recognize it?"

He smiled as he picked up the PADD he'd lent her for her research project. "I'd forgotten all about that. Was it helpful?"

"Very. Your records of the Hirogen and Norcadi genomes were especially useful." She picked up the other PADD and slipped it inside her duffel. After she'd tucked it away, however, her gaze did not return to him immediately. This was strange behavior for her. Verit was always forthright in the way she interacted with her companions.

"Is something wrong, Verit?"

She opened her mouth as if to speak, closed it again, and only then made eye contact with him. "I appreciate the fact you trusted me with that PADD, but I'm not sure you meant to lend that particular one to me."

Puzzled, Icheb consulted the content listing. It contained the data he meant to share with her. Then he looked further down the list and noticed the files identified only by stardates. Opening one of them, he realized which experiments these files documented. After closing that one, he opened another, and there it was: his final formula for the serum, the one he'd followed on that momentous day he'd prepared three hyposprays, one destined for himself, which he'd delivered to Captain Janeway. As he stared at the formula, a stray thought struck him. He'd never asked the captain what she'd done with the two extra hypos, which were never needed. She might have administered one of them to herself, "just in case." He wouldn't be surprised if she had.

He looked up and saw Verit examining him closely. He smiled slightly, unconsciously mimicking one of Captain Janeway's frequent expressions. "You're right. I probably shouldn't have shared this particular one without checking all of its contents. I'm not sorry you know. I'm sure you do, or you wouldn't be looking at me like that now."

Verit looked away, with her own mouth pursed as if she was trying to suppress the very inappropriate expression -- for a Vulcan -- of a smile. She was in full command of her mouth when she met his eyes again. "It's a formula for a serum based upon a specific genome. Yours. I compared it with the sample you gave me that day. It isn't exactly the same though, is it?"

"No. It's one I 'doctored up' to introduce 'chaos into order' when the Borg assimilated the person carrying it. I told you what my parents did. They made changes to my genome to turn me into a Brunali 'Typhoid Mary.' The drones who captured me placed me inside a maturation chamber. I was turned partially into a Borg before the chamber malfunctioned. I have no idea exactly how much time passed before the mechanism failed and ejected me onto the floor of our cube. It may have been weeks. Judging by the smell I detected from the drone bodies scattered throughout the cube, they had been dead for some time. Decomposition was well-advanced."

"I've heard rumors that you helped create a weapon to bring Voyager home. Is this the weapon?"

"Yes. I experimented and found a way to make the pathogen it creates more virulent. We needed it to act more quickly if Voyager was to be protected."

"You didn't give this serum to yourself. I compared it to the sample I took from you the day I borrowed this. I saw microgenetic alterations on the third and seventeenth chromosomes within the retrovirus you used for the delivery system. They're not the same as in the sample's."

"Correct. Those were the changes I made on my own, so the pathogen would create the chaos effect more quickly. My parents also made a change on my thirteenth chromosome, but you couldn't detect it without having another Brunali sample. I didn't have to modify that one."

"So someone else delivered the pathogen to the Borg?"

Icheb nodded in the affirmative.

"I've also heard a rumor about a temporal incident. Did one occur? If so, was this how Voyager could travel through the Borg transwarp conduits safely?"

After a short pause, he replied, "Yes -- to all of your questions."

"That's not according to established protocols. While the principles of temporal mechanics have been identified, no one in the Federation is authorized to use them."

"Perhaps not, but it does happen. Lieutenant Paris believes we were allowed to do this by the Federation Temporal Police despite the protocols. We still don't know why."

"Federation Temporal Police? There is no such entity."

"There will be."

She stared at him. "So I take it this temporal incident involved someone who traveled from the future to our time?"

"Obviously. That person was the 'Sacrificial Lamb" who delivered the pathogen to the Borg."

"And time was changed. Voyager came home earlier than it had in another timeline, but the person responsible is no longer part of this one. No longer alive. That is what you meant by saying the 'Sacrificial Lamb?'"

"This person had reasons to disregard the restrictions on time travel. One of them was that in that other timeline, Icheb never sat with you in a suite like this. He never attended the Academy -- in person. You couldn't have become his friend after that Voyager returned to the Alpha Quadrant."

"I see. You died before that happened."

"My counterpart did," he corrected.

She glanced down at the PADD, which he still held in his hand. The file documenting his serum was still running on the screen. She nodded towards the PADD. "This modified genome was not included in my project. I thought it best not to refer to it in any way."

"Thank you. I'd prefer that Farys and Austin don't learn about this, either. They may hear rumors about time traveling, but the incident can remain a secret as long as no one officially confirms it happened. I believe that part may never be openly acknowledged."

"Icheb, when you told us your story on the first day you moved here, you concealed this."

"I did not. My story simply ended before my experiments began. Our guests were due to arrive. It was not for me to tell anyone else about what happened."

"A lie by omission is still a lie."

"Ah, but I didn't omit anything. Stories have an end point. The questions you had for me about what I remembered about my early life were answered, were they not?"

"You are splitting hairs, Icheb. However, I agree this subject is a delicate one. I'm pleased you trust me with the facts."

"It would be pointless to lie to you. You saw the evidence. You possess enough knowledge to know exactly what it means."

"True," she said. She reached down, picked up her packed duffel bag, and carried it into their main living room. Icheb followed with one of the storage crates he'd promised to store in his chamber. Within minutes, the room was devoid of any visual evidence that Verit had ever resided there. The one reminder was a faint whiff of the oil she used in her meditation lamp. Icheb hoped it would linger throughout the summer, to remind him of his friend.

Once all of Verit's luggage had been transferred into the living area, Verit referred once more to the events Icheb had finally revealed. "This person who sacrificed herself. I take it she was . . . very high up on the roster of Voyager . . . in both timestreams?"

"It is not for me to confirm nor deny," Icheb said, very aware that she'd correctly identified the gender of the Sacrificial Lamb.

 Verit nodded gravely, acknowledging his prevarication, but all she said was, "Then I must look forward to the day when your role is acknowledged by officials authorized to reveal it, whether the Borg's destruction proves to be complete and permanent, or only offers a temporary respite from their depredations against the individuals of the galaxy. Although the person who sacrificed herself may never be openly identified, I will honor her memory nonetheless."

"As do I," he replied. Icheb had to admire the subtlety of Verit's response. She'd clearly figured out who that person was. Verit had made a logical deduction; and logic, as Icheb well knew, was as fundamental a concept for Vulcans as efficiency was to the Borg.

And, to his immense relief, Vulcans were also justly renowned for their ability to keep a secret.

=/\=

:::Stardate 55457.3

"Hello, Neelix! Happy Prixin, Dexa and Brax! We're here at my parents' house to celebrate the holiday you brought to all of us! Miral, honey, wave to the Doctor so he can take your picture to send to Uncle Neelix. That's it! Mom, Dad, you're hosting this party! Why don't you come on over here and wave hello to our friends on Talax II!"

"Hello, Ambassador. As you can see, my son and all of his friends told us about the holiday you always celebrated on Talax and on Voyager. We decided to throw a party to commemorate the day here, too. Captains Janeway and Chakotay are co-hosting it with us. Your Doctor is taking these images so we can send them to you in tonight's datastream. Doctor, why don't you turn your imager towards yourself so you can send our friends on Talax II your holiday wishes."

"Thank you, Admiral, I will. (dizzying spin, ending upon the smiling face of the EMH) There we go. Hello, there, Neelix. I hope your whole family is watching this with you. Dexa, how are you feeling? Is your pregnancy progressing well?"

(husky groan from out of the picture)"Doctor, please! No diagnostic interviews today. We're here to have fun."

"Oh, yes. Sorry about that. Captain Janeway is right. I'll have to submerge my curiosity about Talaxian pregnancy symptoms for the time being. But Dexa, expect a message from me in tomorrow's datastream. Now, where were we? Oh, yes. Let me introduce my friend Miranda Hendrickson. She's an opera singer. Say hello to Neelix and his family, dear."

(rapid swing from the Doctor's face to that of a very beautiful, very blonde human woman) "Hello, Neelix! Hello, family! I hope you're having a wonderful holiday. Do you say, 'Merry Prixin?'  or just 'Happy Holidays'? (prolonged pause) . . . Darling, I haven't the faintest idea what else to say!"

"You did just fine, Miranda."

"Hey, Doc, point that thing back over here so the rest of us can get into the picture, huh?"

"I was only following your father's directions to the letter, Mr. Paris. Can't you see that? However (view swings back to a group of Voyager crew), here's our merry little group. We invited all of the Voyager crew still in the Sol System, but not everyone could come. Harry? Seven? Tell Neelix how your Delta Flyer Project is going."

"Doc, you should ask Tom and B'Elanna about that. They're leading that project now, remember?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Lieutenant Kim. That probably would be more politically correct . . . "

"Doc! Skip the sarcasm and just record . . ."

Icheb sighed deeply and shook his head as he paused the recording they'd sent to Talax II in last night's datastream. "I thought the Doctor was only supposed to record the party, not monopolize the whole thing."

"In the old 2D cinema days, they had a person called an editor who clipped out the best bits of film and patched everything together to make a movie. I wish we had someone like that we could call in today." Tom began to laugh. "Honestly, Icheb, you can't be surprised. Look how he narrated the entire 'Tour of Starfleet Academy' recording you made for Mezoti. He barely let you get a word in edgewise. Even when you ran into Professor Reagan, he took the introduction away from you. And he didn't let Reagan say very much, either."

Icheb shrugged, a rueful grin on his face. "You're right. I guess I forget what he's like when I don't see him for a while."

"Either that, or you're fiercely repressing the memory."

Icheb laughed along with Tom before they resumed viewing the very Doctor-centric recording of their Prixin party. Even the Doctor couldn't completely ruin the collection of images that would preserve the event for everyone who attended, however. The Doctor, true to his word, had sent a copy of his opus to everyone who was there, as well as some who couldn't make it to the admiral's home that day. When they reached the end of what amounted to a love-letter from all of Neelix's friends from Voyager to their one-time chief cook and morale officer, Icheb said, "Once he got out of his own way and just let everyone speak for themselves, he did a nice job with this recording, Tom."

"I thought so, too. When B'Elanna and I watched it last night, she sniffed away a few tears when the captain started talking about how the crew is scattering every which way. She's upset at the way Voyager has been dissected by the engineers at Utopia Planitia. She's afraid everyone in her department will have left for other posts before we're able to get back on board."

"Do you honestly think they'll ever let her fly again, Tom? I know Starfleet wanted to study all the improvements, but I've heard a couple of professors say the only time they'll let you take the helm again will be to park Voyager on the Presidio so Voyager can be turned into a museum."

"I've heard those rumors, too. According to Dad, there's a lot of controversy about turning the ship into a museum. Captain Janeway is adamantly against the plan, although she won't tell anyone why. B'Elanna's heard they've taken all of the Borg and Admiral Janeway additions apart to study them. She's afraid they'll never put everything back together right. I don't think they will be able to, unless B'Elanna, Seven, and Harry are there to tell them what to do. I think that may be why the Utopia Planitia people want her to visit next week. They say it's to answer questions about how she kept the ship running for seven years without ever pulling into a Starfleet dock for repairs or systems upgrades."

"A lot of hard work!"

"You can say that again."

"Seven told me she's been asked to go up to Utopia Planitia with B'Elanna and Harry for those meetings. Why didn't they invite you, Tom?"

"Well, besides needing to be here to take care of my daughter and ride herd on the Delta Flyer Project staff, I'm not an expert on Voyager's systems. I helped out whenever we had to make repairs, just like you, but that was under B'Elanna's direction. If they need me to explain anything about the Delta Flyer, I'm their man. But hey, that's why I've got the job I have right now."

"I can understand that. How much longer is that project going to last? You were able to build the Delta Flyer II in a couple of weeks after the original was destroyed by the Borg. Why is it taking so long now?"

"Icheb, have you heard the old Earth expression, 'Too many cooks spoil the broth'? That's why. We have all of these engineering gurus wanting reports every few minutes about what we're doing. We have Harry writing them up, but that takes him away from the project while he does. And then the bigwigs got the bright idea to include the Folding Space technology into the shuttle, along with the standard warp and impulse drives. We've actually figured out where we're going to fit that in, but, and here's the really big 'but': the propulsion geniuses -- or is that genii? -- anyway, the propulsion experts still have a teensy-weensy bit of work figuring out that technology. They've got the basic science worked out, but they haven't been able to build a working model yet. Until they do, we can't put it into the Delta Flyer shuttles, can we?"

"In other words, it's a bureaucratic mess."

"Icheb, you're catching on. I'm proud of you, my boy." Tom's grin was infectious. Icheb still looked up to Tom when the subject had anything at all to do with flying or navigation. He knew how lucky he was that Tom had been his tutor. Icheb qualified to fly shuttles at warp the first time he was tested, and Tom deserved much of the credit for his success.

"Well, Icheb, I guess I'd better get home. B'Elanna and Miral should be back from visiting Marla and Aimee by now. She'll be looking for me if I don't turn up soon. Before I go, though, how are you doing here in your suite all by your lonesome?"

"Lonely," Icheb said with a chuckle, although it wasn't really funny. "I'm glad I'm finally starting my summer classes this week."

"What are you taking?"

"I should have taken a Xenobiology class and a command track elective this past semester, but I was making up a couple of freshman courses I missed. I didn't have room in my schedule for everything, so I delayed these two until the summer session. They're more intense in the summer, because the session isn't as long as a normal semester. But since I'm alone here, I'll have plenty of time to study."

"Who do you have for Xenobiology?"

"Admiral Virdian. I understand he's excellent."

"He is. He began teaching here during my senior year. I'd already taken the courses he taught, so I never had him. Everyone who did said he was tough but fair. I hope that's still the case. I heard he was devastated when he lost his husband at Wolf 359."

"That happened years ago."

"Yes, it did, but that doesn't mean he's gotten over it yet. Some people never do get over a loss like that."

"For his sake, I hope he has," Icheb replied.

=/\=

Stardate 55552.7  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

We celebrated Naomi's sixth birthday at a party at the Wildman apartment this afternoon. It's hard to believe Naomi is only six. To look at her, anyone who didn't know her genetic history would presume she's at least thirteen. Since she's lived primarily with adults all her life, she acts older, too. She's very aware of this and always tries to act the part of a very mature adolescent. Every now and then, though, her true age peeks through.

There were a couple of actual children there. Miral is getting so cute. She's also walking, which B'Elanna says is scary. Klingons mature faster than most races other than Ktarians, but she thought that a three-quarters human, one-quarter Klingon might not. Those Klingon genes must be very powerful. Mrs. Paris told me Tom was walking "everywhere" at seven months of age, though, so Miral isn't that much more advanced in her development than her daddy was.

Aimee's a charmer. Although the Doctor has information about the two species which make up her genetics, no one really knows how that mix will work out. Aimee is probably the only child in the galaxy -- make that the universe -- from those particular genetic pools, since both races are so xenophobic. According to Mrs. Paris, Aimee seems to be developing at a fairly normal rate for a human child. Marla was glad to hear that, since Miral's rapid development was causing Marla to worry that Aimee's was a little slow. Mrs. Paris reassured her that Aimee's level of accomplishments seemed on par with that of both of her daughters when they were two years of age. She pointed out that boys tend to be much more physically active and often do things like sitting up and walking at slightly earlier ages. "But girls often learn to speak earlier," she noted. Aimee certainly isn't slow in that regard. She chatters away constantly, and you can actually understand about half of what she says. The other half, though -- she knows what she's saying, because when we ask her to repeat it, she says exactly the same thing. That doesn't mean we understand her the next time. Every now and then Marla is able to translate something because she's figured it out from earlier conversations with her daughter.

I must say, it makes me feel good every time I see Marla and Aimee together. Aimee really loves her mom -- and vice versa!

I wish my mom had come to the party. Seven had planned to, but then "something came up" at the last minute at the Delta Flyer Project that she "had to attend to." I think the "something" was another argument with Chakotay. He was at the party. Harry was, too, but without Libby. Harry made excuses for her, about how busy she's been with her volunteer work with the Dominion War Widow and Widower Foundation; but I think the real reason she didn't come was that she didn't expect it to be worth her while. She didn't know any admirals would be there, since Harry hadn't heard Admiral and Mrs. Paris were coming. If Libby had known, I have no doubt she'd have been there, sitting right next to him, monopolizing the admiral's attention all night.

Captain Janeway came late to the party, but Admiral Paris and his wife were there when I arrived and were still there when I left. I was glad to have a chance to visit with Admiral Paris. I usually only see him at big affairs, when saying more than a couple of sentences is difficult, or when he's acting in his official capacity as the director of the Project Pathfinder Program. Today he sat down with me, and we had a very interesting chat.

I hadn't known that Admiral Paris had facilitated Gres' transfer to Earth after Voyager's return. Gres had just accepted a position on Deep Space Nine, but once his wife and daughter were home, he needed to be with them. While Gres had some accumulated leave time, it ran out about a month after we came back. Sam and Naomi weren't ready to leave Earth yet. The Maquis situation was still up in the air, and Gres understood they wanted to remain until the status of their friends was announced. They thought they might need to testify in court, if anyone was indicted and put on trial. Naturally, he didn't want to go back to Deep Space Nine without them. He'd been without his wife for seven years, and he'd already missed too much of Naomi's childhood. He didn't know what to do, but Admiral Paris heard about his problem.

The admiral arranged for a "temporary replacement" for Gres on Deep Space Nine. Colonel Kira, the Bajoran commander of the station, understood Gres' dilemma, too. When Gres' replacement, Lieutenant Commander Chan, said she'd like to stay on Deep Space Nine permanently, Colonel Kira asked the admiral if an "arrangement" could be made to permit Chan to stay. The admiral accommodated the Bajoran commander by finding a post for Gres at Starfleet Headquarters. Needless to say, the Wildman family is very grateful to Tom's father. He told me it was "nothing" for him to do this, but it's made me see another side of the admiral. Tom's told me on several occasions that he gets along very well with his father now. The admiral is clearly ecstatic that his lost son has returned from the dead. Tom's personal evolution while under Captain Janeway's command has healed the rift between father and son.

The Doctor was there, too, with the woman he's been seeing lately. He met her at the opera. Miranda sings in the chorus with the San Francisco Opera Company. I'm not sure who suggested they perform a duet. I think it was the Doctor. After they sang together, Tom convinced Miranda to sing a solo. She really does have a beautiful voice. The Doctor was beaming at her while she sang. He also took images of her. Lots of images. And even more of everyone at the party. At one point, when he told Naomi to smile for the camera, she stuck out her tongue just as he snapped the picture. He wasn't pleased, but Naomi and I both thought it was a really funny image. We wouldn't let him erase it. He was gracious enough to send Gres and Sam copies of all the pictures he'd taken of the party.

After Naomi cut her birthday cake, Gres said they had something to tell us, and Sam announced she's pregnant again. While everyone was congratulating them, I took Naomi aside and asked if it bothered her that her future sibling had taken over part of her birthday celebration. She said it didn't. "What bothers me is that I'm going to be so much older than my brother or sister. We'll be different generations!"

"Not for long, considering how fast your people grow up," I said. "Your sibling will be an adult, just like you, before you know it." Naomi laughed and admitted the truth of my comment, but it's still jarring for her. For so long, it was Naomi, her mom, Neelix, and the crew of Voyager. "I love my dad and we get along great now, but it's so different living here. I'm used to having lots of people to visit just down the corridor. I liked living in space," she told me.

"Like me," I replied.

Then she confided a "secret." She's taking the Starfleet Entrance Exam in August. I was shocked. I asked her if she was old enough, and she said that since she's Ktarian, she's allowed to take it after turning six. That doesn't mean she can enroll right away. "I might be able to next year, even before I'm seven. Early entrants from Ktaris must pass other assessments to show they're psychologically and physiologically ready, even if they pass the academic exam. They might let me in for the spring session if I pass everything. If they don't let me matriculate as a full time student, I might be able to take some freshman classes for advanced placement. That way I'd be credited with some classes the same way you were."

"You've barely had a chance to get to know your dad. Don't you think that's pushing it a little?"

"Maybe, but that's why it doesn't bother me so much about the new baby. He'll be able to watch my brother or sister grow up in a way he didn't with me. And since they're both serving here at Headquarters, we'll be together a lot, even if I do move on campus. We'll see what happens. If I have a normal Ktarian growth spurt, I really would look like an Academy cadet!"

We discussed the latest letters from Mezoti. Thanks to the datastream service to Talax II, we get answers from Mezoti a few days after we send her a letter. It's great that we can see Mezoti and she can see us; but it's not the same thing as talking to her, the way we can to Neelix. Brax keeps in touch with both Mezoti and Naomi, his "datastream pals."  Brax is excited that he's going to have a baby brother or sister, too. I told Naomi how happy I am for Neelix, since he's building his own family inside the asteroid. Naomi said she was happy for him, too, but she looked a little sad when we talked about him. She still misses her Uncle Neelix very much.

When I saw that, I confessed something that I hoped would cheer her up. I told her I used to feel very sad Mezoti would never know about Neelix leaving Voyager to marry and form his own family, or that Voyager made it home. Now we exchange letters with her at least once a week! "Boy, were you wrong about that!" Naomi giggled. She was okay afterwards, but I must admit, I'm really amazed we're able to share our thoughts when we're so far away from each other.

Mezoti and Neelix have both reported that more Borg debris fields have been discovered, but the only intact spheres or scout ships found to date have been ones that have been taken over by the Borg Resistance. Starfleet still isn't ready to assume this means there's no longer a reason to fear the Borg. Naomi has heard that, too, and not just because of her correspondence with Mezoti. Since her parents are stationed at Starfleet Headquarters, Naomi is tied in almost as well as I am with Starfleet affairs. She may even know more than me. Life on campus can be pretty insular.

It was a very nice party. It would have been even better if Seven had decided to show up. And it would have been great if Mezoti had been here to wish Naomi a happy birthday in person.

=/\=

Icheb had heard that everyone adored Admiral Virdian as a teacher, leading him to anticipate a stimulating and enjoyable Xenobiology class. Icheb was attentive and worked very hard to produce well-researched written assignments. He participated in class. He expected to do as well in this class as he had in every other one he'd taken at the Academy. The one thing he didn't expect was the admiral's reaction to all of his attempts.

Admiral Virdian criticized every comment Icheb made in class, even though another student might contribute the same observation later and be praised for it. The admiral made it obvious he wasn't at all impressed with Icheb. While he never complained to Seven or any of his friends from Voyager about this disconnect between the admiral's reputation and the way he treated Icheb in class, the admiral's comments about the Borg gave Icheb a rather clear hint about what his problem with Icheb really was. As Tom told Icheb before the summer session began, the admiral lost his husband when the Borg destroyed the fleet at Wolf 359 in 2367. Icheb was sure his visible connection to the Borg was a constant reminder to the admiral of his lost spouse.

Although Icheb considered withdrawing from the class, he decided he would do his best and live with the results. If he failed, Icheb would simply take the course again from another professor. If he did well the second time he took it, the failing grade would be expunged, replaced by the new one. He was annoyed, though. His mother would undoubtedly think it was terribly inefficient for him to waste his time studying under someone who was prejudiced against him; but Icheb's stubborn streak, which previously had manifested itself when Seven tried to reject his donation of his cortical node to save her life, reappeared. Icheb refused to back down and withdraw from the class just because the professor didn't like him.

At the session's midpoint, Admiral Virdian assigned an essay on the subject: "Describe What It is Like to Be a Member of Your Species." Icheb was perplexed. Everyone else in the class would know what their subject would be. Even someone like B'Elanna or Naomi could either pick one of the species comprising their genome or choose to describe both of their heritages. But how could Icheb describe himself?

In the handful of days he'd lived on the Brunali world, he'd barely begun to learn what they were about before his parents shipped him back to the Borg. Because of his adoption by Seven, and his life on Voyager with a primarily human crew, he identified more with humanity than any other species. However, in good conscience, he couldn't claim he knew enough about being human to write an essay about that species, either. Of course, he'd been Borg, or "almost" Borg. While the Borg were an amalgam of any race the Collective came across that they wanted to assimilate, rather than a separate species, Icheb still knew more about the Collective than he did about his biological heritage or his adoptive mother's.

He finally decided that he could only write about himself, a Brunali child "almost" assimilated by the Borg and rescued by human beings. He imagined Admiral Virdian would be scornful of such a mish-mosh, but that was the only way Icheb could honestly present himself.

Icheb began his essay by using the first few sentences of his personal log, which depicted his expulsion from the malfunctioning maturation chamber and his confusion about who or what he was. He described how a second immature drone awoke, designated himself as "First," and began to give orders to "Second."  Three other "Borglets" joined them, but none were fully Borg, nor were they truly individuals capable of acting in the manner of their own species. Then he described the horror of the alien freight captain's attempted assimilation, and its aftermath:

"Five of Six and I tried to follow the instructions of First, who ripped the man's arm off to insert a Borg appliance into his armpit. But we were incomplete. None of us knew what we were doing. Later, we discovered our nanoprobes had been too immature to assimilate the alien. They could barely keep our own flesh and implants healthy, let alone turn another individual into a functioning drone. All we knew then was that this freighter captain we'd captured screamed and screamed until he couldn't scream anymore. Then he fell silent, awash in a pool of his own blood. Instead of making him one with the Collective, we'd murdered him. His remains rested there, a pile of mottled flesh resting on a metallic bed splashed with blood, until our cube exploded. Four of us, and a fifth who was such an immature infant she couldn't even breathe on her own, were rescued by Voyager. First died on the cube, his devotion to the Borg Queen continuing unabated until his last breath.

 

Five of Six became my little sister Mezoti. Second was me: Icheb Hansen. The alien we tried to assimilate remained nameless, without any designation we ever knew. He was just another corpse inside the dying Borg cube. His atoms, along with those of at least a thousand other dead drones, now float in space, somewhere in the Delta Quadrant.

 

No one volunteers to be a Borg. Drones are like the zombies of old cinematic entertainments. You are attacked and turned into the living dead, without any will of your own. The Queen orders you to do whatever she wants, and if she has any reason to doubt even one drone on a cube, she will destroy it without hesitation, along with thousands more who are on that vessel, too. I know. She did it when I was on Voyager, when my captain and two other officers invaded a cube to free a small number of drones from her control. Some of the debris fields floating in the Delta Quadrant have been identified as the fragments of cubes destroyed by the Queen that day, all because she lost contact with a single drone dwelling inside them.

 

I was returned to the care of my parents by the captain of Voyager, but after a mere handful of days they put me inside a single-person transport and sent me into the path of the Borg again. Voyager rescued me, but only then did we discover my body is capable of producing a pathogen that brings death to the Borg when I'm assimilated. All of those dead drones inside the cube on which I awoke were killed by me.

 

My parents were as willing as the Borg Queen to take away my individuality, even for me to be killed. Is this what the Brunali are like? I don't know. I don't have enough memories of my time before they put me in the first transport, or from those scant few days after they enticed me to live with them again and shoved me into the second, to know if they are typical of the species. I hope not. I can't describe what it is like to be of the Brunali. I simply don't know enough about them to say.

 

Now I live in the Federation. I have been adopted by a human woman, assimilated as a child by the Borg, who was also disconnected from the Collective by Captain Janeway and her crew. While many Borg mechanicals have been removed from our bodies and the Borg Queen can no longer order us to do her bidding, some implants remain within us, and probably will throughout our lives. We have been Borg, and, in a way, we always will be. The remaining implants are not why we will never be fully free of the Borg, however. We are haunted by our memories of that existence. We are marked by scars, some invisible to see, but always present. Would either of us ever want to go back to that zombie existence? No. We like who we are now. We are individuals who make our own decisions about how to live our lives. Any mistakes we make we will blame on ourselves, not an entity who cares nothing for those she rules.

 

There are not many like us, although we know of others who have functioned as individuals since they were freed by Captain Janeway's actions. Are we a new, unique species? I don't know about that, either; but I'm glad I'm here now. Maybe someday I will look around me and declare, 'Alien DNA notwithstanding, I'm more human than anything else.' But that is a hope, not an expectation.

 

I have lived a horror story. It is my fondest wish that no one else ever will."

Icheb read over his essay. There was much more he could have said, but he didn't want to plague Admiral Virdian with an essay as long as the Early Starfleet History presentation he once gave to Captain Janeway. Or as long as it would have been -- if she'd let him finish reciting it! If the admiral chose to fail him for not producing a paper according to his specifications, so be it. 

=/\=

Admiral Virdian made no mention of the assignment in class for the next two weeks, but Icheb thought what he'd presented must have made some sort of impression on the admiral. The negative comments ceased. Icheb hoped this meant he would pass the course with a decent enough grade that he wouldn't have to repeat it.

The day before the admiral was to administer their final exam, he distributed PADDs to the students containing their graded essay -- to everyone, that is, except Icheb. He was reluctant to say anything right away to the admiral, who spent that last class reviewing the syllabus, hinting at times about certain sections which "you would be wise to review prior to the examination." Once the class was over, Icheb would ask the admiral to give him his grade for his essay.

When the admiral announced, "Class dismissed," Icheb stood up, but before he could take a step forward, Admiral Virdian added, "Cadet Hansen, please report to me. I'd like to speak with you."

Icheb walked up to the teacher's desk and stood at attention, waiting for him to speak. "Please, sit down, Cadet. What I have to say may take a while."

Once Icheb had taken a seat, the admiral leaned forward on the surface of his desk and confided, "I have a confession to make. I'm not very proud of the way I've acted towards you during much of this course. I've always prided myself on giving the best of myself when teaching every one of my students, but I let personal feelings interfere with your experience." He cleared his throat before continuing, "When I reached the sentence near the end of your essay, when you said any mistakes you would make from now on would be your own, it struck me hard. I know I did make mistakes with you. Your reputation preceded you, Cadet Hansen. Every other teacher who's taught you has called you one of the most promising officer candidates he or she has ever seen. I didn't see it, but that was my fault, not yours."

Admiral Virdian looked away from Icheb and studied the surface of his desk for a moment. "I lost someone very dear to me because of the Borg. Whenever I looked at you, I never saw the Brunali boy who was rescued by Kathryn Janeway's crew. I only saw that metal plate on the side of your nose, which marked you for what you once were."

"Admiral, I know about the loss of your husband. I can only say I'm sorry for your loss."

"But you had nothing to do with it. You weren't Borg then. From what you wrote in your essay, I gather you never were completely Borg at all. On the day the Battle of Wolf 359 was fought, I imagine you were a young child, running around the surface of the planet of your birth."

"I believe I was, Admiral, although I don't know the exact date of my birth; but that doesn't matter. Even if I had been there, I couldn't have stopped myself from participating in the destruction. None of the drones who took part in that battle had any control over what they were doing. They were programmed, just like computers, to act the way they did."

"I've known that intellectually for a long time, but I guess I never fully accepted it. Then I read your description of assimilation, how a drone is turned into a 'zombie', as you put it. Thanks to your essay, I felt the of horror of that process, the loss of any will of your own. It pains me now to even speak of it, yet you were ordered to inflict that fate on another being. If he'd had the choice, the alien may well have chosen death rather than become one of your Collective drones."

"Was your husband assimilated, Admiral?"

"No. He died. His remains were found in what was left of the USS Yamaguchi. At least I never had to wonder what had happened to him, but I was always bitter to lose him that way. In the back of my mind, I think I always thought that if he'd been assimilated, perhaps I'd get him back someday, the way Riker and the crew of Enterprise were able to recover Jean-Luc Picard. After I read your essay, I was glad he was released from life and never had to experience that loss of self. It would have been absolute torture for a man of his temperament."

Icheb sighed deeply. "So many lives wasted, Admiral. I feel badly for all drones. I've often wished more could have been saved and returned to individuality the way my mother Seven -- Annika Hansen, that is -- and the five of us were." He paused a moment, wondering how much the admiral knew about their trip back to the Alpha Quadrant. Finally he said, "Millions must have died when we returned to the Alpha Quadrant through the collapsing transwarp conduit system. My mother told me she knows she participated in the decimation of entire planetary populations when she was a drone. It haunts her now, but at the time, she had no recourse."

"And you know for a fact the Queen ordered thousands of drones to be slaughtered because she couldn't 'hear' one drone on a vessel?"

"Captain Janeway witnessed her doing it. The Queen was using it as a tactic to try to make the captain cooperate with her. She wanted the captain to stop protecting the drones who went to the virtual reality of Unimatrix Zero, where they could be individuals again during their regeneration periods. I didn't put it in my essay, but the Queen ordered my 'Children's Collective' to terminate ourselves when she lost contact with our cube, too. We didn't follow the order. Until Seven came on board, we were unable to decrypt her message. We couldn't understand Borg alphanumerics well enough at that time. We didn't become competent using them until after we were rescued and brought to Voyager. Seven taught us the system because she thought we should know it; and it's a good thing she did. My sister Mezoti was able to read a message written in them and helped Borg Resistance drones obtain necessary medical care on the planet where she lives now."

"Your sister Mezoti didn't come here with you? I'd heard that a female child came to the Alpha Quadrant on Voyager."

"That was our baby Six of Six. She was adopted by another crewmate. Her name is Aimee Gilmore now."

"Is Marla Gilmore her mother? I remember her. She was in my class several years ago."

"That's Aimee's mother. She's resigned from Starfleet. I see them every now and then. They live here in San Francisco."

"I'm sorry to hear about her resignation. I thought she had a brilliant career ahead of her. It's a shame. Say hello from me when you see her again," the admiral remarked matter-of-factly.

Icheb was loathe to respond to this comment, but he didn't get the sense the admiral was speaking either ironically or sarcastically. Icheb hoped this meant he wasn't privy to what had happened on Equinox. Fortunately, Icheb didn't have to respond to the admiral's comment. Admiral Virdian rose to his feet, prompting Icheb to do the same, and said, "I'm sorry I didn't think to have this conversation with you sooner, Cadet. As you can see, even admirals make mistakes. Because of our lofty positions, it may be harder for us to admit it when we do. I hope you'll accept my sincere apology for the rough time I gave you."

"It's all right, Admiral. It may be good practice. I understand some commanding officers think cadets are coddled too much at the Academy!"

This prompted a smile and a slight chuckle from the admiral. "I certainly can't be accused of coddling you, can I, Cadet? By the way, I've sent your essay directly to you through the comm system. I don't think you'll be unhappy with your grade. And I have a suggestion. You might consider submitting the piece to the Academy literary magazine. You write well, especially when one realizes Federation Standard isn't your first language. Since your essay educated me on the true nature of assimilation, others may benefit from reading it as well." He extended his hand to shake Icheb's. "Good luck on the exam tomorrow."

"Thank you, Admiral. I'm heading to my suite to study for it right now."

=/\=

Icheb did do well on the exam. His final grade for the course was an A, the same grade he'd received for his essay.  

=/\=

Stardate 55717.4  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

While I was away on vacation, I took a break from keeping up my personal log. I've been very lax. It's time to catch up.

At the end of my summer session, during the break before my junior year at the Academy, Seven and I went away to Mars. B'Elanna and Tom had their vacations there at the same time. It was a working vacation for B'Elanna and Seven. They spent quite a bit of their time consulting with researchers up on Utopia Planitia, answering questions about how they adapted Borg equipment to work on Voyager. While I tagged along with Seven and B'Elanna on a few days, at others, I went sightseeing with Tom and Miral.

When I asked who was in charge of the Delta Flyer project while three of its leaders were here on Mars, Tom explained that Harry was left to run it during their absence.

"Wasn't he upset you left him by himself?"

"Icheb, have you ever heard the expression, 'like a pig in slop'? He's loving being 'The Man.' I can't blame him. Getting lost in the Delta Quadrant was the best thing that ever happened to me, but Harry would have been a lot farther along in his career if he'd been assigned to another ship and followed a more conventional career path."

"Assuming he'd survived the Dominion War." Tom sadly had to agree with that.

One weekend we all flew to Jupiter Station and spent time with Dr. Zimmerman. The Doctor had told me about the Dr. Zimmerman's assistant Haley and his pet photonic iguana, Leonard. The iguana was fun because he'd been programmed to talk and had a very acerbic sense of humor. Any being, organic or photonic, would benefit from maintaining a sense of humor around Dr. Zimmerman. I was more impressed with Haley than I was with Dr. Zimmerman. She was very sweet. Maybe Dr. Zimmerman programmed her with all the qualities he'd never bothered to develop in himself. Our EMH was very busy trying to cure his creator when he visited Jupiter Station last year, while the rest of us were still plowing through the Delta Quadrant on Voyager. Our Doctor could learn a lot from Haley -- in particular, how to exhibit patience when interacting with difficult patients. On the way back to Mars, Tom explained that if I ever hear the term "curmudgeon," I should visualize Dr. Z!

As much as I enjoyed observing the researchers on Utopia Planitia and the sightseeing, I was relieved when we returned home. I had ten more days off before classes were to resume, so I lived in Seven's house for a week before coming back to the suite. I didn't want to be alone on campus when I didn't have classes or anything to distract me. Staying with Seven and Chakotay at their home was okay. They didn't talk very much with each other, but at least I didn't detect any animosity between them. The visit made me feel a little melancholy, though. Having a chance to spend time with Chakotay made me realize how nice it would be to have a father.

Rather than get into any sensitive memories about his life on Voyager after Seven came on board, I asked him to recount events from his earlier life, and to share his perspective on the early years of Voyager's journey -- before the encounters with the Borg. His descriptions of his childhood on a world that maintained the traditions of the native American tribes were very interesting, but ultimately, very sad. Both of his parents are dead, and the life they lived there is, too. He admitted that one reason he likes to visit his sister is that it helps him regain a little of that history. She's working with scientists who are rehabilitating Dorvan so the tribes can move back there. The world was blasted by the Cardassians so badly, it's uninhabited at present, other than by work crews which are restoring its environment. Chakotay was still in Starfleet when the Cardassians attacked. It turned out to be his breaking point. When the Federation didn't protect planets like Dorvan, he resigned and joined the Maquis.

When he told me about the Vidiians, I felt bad for them, even though their method of dealing with their tragic illness was repulsive. Seven was with us when we talked about them, and she pointed out that if Kurros from the Think Tank was being truthful, the Vidiians may have been restored to health. At this point, of course, there's no way to know if he was lying or not. Seven and Chakotay both think Kurros embellished his claims about the "good deeds" the Think Tank did for others. He'd set up the attacks on Voyager to make the captain come to him; and when Seven didn't want to join the Think Tank voluntarily, he kidnapped her.

Most of Chakotay's stories were more entertaining. His tale about Marayna, the holographic character who turned out to be an alien scientist in disguise, was fascinating. She fell in love with Tuvok and tried to get him to stay with her on her station. Tuvok explained he had a family who needed him and suggested she visit her home planet to counteract her loneliness.

I wish I'd been able to meet Gegen, the honorable Voth scientist who was convinced his people were descended from a species which originated on Earth many millions of year ago. Gegen voluntarily gave up his theories when he was given an ultimatum: continue to espouse them, and Voyager's crew would have been held hostage for the rest of their lives. Not only would they lose any chance of returning home, their futures would have been even bleaker because the reptilian Voth were prejudiced against mammalian species. Chakotay showed me his proposal for a project to explore for evidence of a sophisticated dinosaurian culture. He believes the best place would be along margins of the continents as they existed at the time of the hadrosaurs, the most likely species to be the Voth's ancestors. Fossilized remains could be found deep inside rock strata or buried beneath the sea floor.

And I laughed quite a bit when he told me the story of  the stranded Ferengi "prophets" who made a "profit" from people they scammed. They'd fled from Federation justice by flying through an unstable wormhole. The people where they landed had legends which seemed to describe how the Ferengi arrived. They used those myths to take advantage of the populace until Chakotay, Tom, Neelix, and the captain put an end to their scam. The Ferengi managed to slip away through the unstable wormhole before it closed up, which prevented Voyager from utilizing it as a pathway home. I wasn't unhappy about that, since Voyager didn't encounter us until several years afterwards. They were still in the Delta Quadrant when we needed to be rescued.

Tom had already told me a lot about Voyager's trip back through time, when the ship landed in Southern California in the twentieth century and they met Captain Braxton. I was struck by Chakotay's tender smile when he reminisced about walking along the Venice boardwalk with Captain Janeway. Seven wasn't in the garden when he told me about that. She didn't see his face. It was better she didn't. I really like Captain Chakotay, but whenever he talks about Captain Janeway, his face just lights up. Chakotay's a great person. He just isn't right for my mom.

When I came back to the suite yesterday, Verit was in our common living room, standing next to a very tall Vulcan male. She introduced him as "my spouse Torin." They were dressed in very beautiful, traditional Vulcan robes. I became very uneasy when I saw them there. "Have you come back to pick up the things you left here last spring?" I asked. She replied she was returning to live here until our graduation. Torin is on the staff of the Vulcan Science Institute. He's here to finalize arrangements with Starfleet Medical staff for a research project. Torin will take part in a mission traveling to the Gamma Quadrant to work with the Founders. After their experience with the illness that almost led to their species' demise, the Founders wish to exchange information with Federation scientists and explore ways to prevent anything like it happening to their race again. He expects to be gone for approximately two years. Verit had trouble maintaining her Vulcan equanimity when he told me how long he'd be gone.

Fortunately, their marriage bond was confirmed a few days after Verit arrived home for vacation with her family, at the conclusion of her field study placement. She said she is relieved there will be no barriers for either spouse to continue following their career paths (for the next seven years or so, but she didn't mention that, and I didn't bring it up). Verit left most of her baggage in her room and asked me if I would transfer the storage boxes I'd been keeping for her to her room, too. I told her I would. For the next few days, Verit and her husband are going to do some sightseeing. He's never visited Earth before. Even though they're leaving for the weekend, I'll have company again. Austin and Farys are both due to arrive tonight.

We'll all be together for the six-week spacewalk course from early September until the end of October. Then we'll return in time for an "old fashioned Halloween." I told her I'd heard there would be lots of ghosts around then. Verit said Austin would share the Day of the Dead traditions with me, too. She was familiar with the Day of the Dead from residing here with Austin and Farys last fall. Verit had no trouble at all accepting the idea that the spirits of family members might visit the living for All Soul's Day. "A ghost is simply a katra that has not been stored properly." She was absolutely serious when she told me this. After she left with Torin for the weekend, I went to the database and researched Vulcan beliefs on the spirit world. It's intriguing to think that although Vulcans prize logic above all things, they also believe in the katra of those who have left this plane of existence. I'd like to think they have hard evidence of its survival after the body expires. It's a very comforting concept.

Let's see. I think I've caught up . . . no. There one more thing to record. It has to do with recordings, too. This morning I prepared a long transmission to send to Mezoti. I had an imager with me on Mars and recorded many of our experiences, both on Utopia Planitia and from our sightseeing trips, to send to her. I told her I hoped she'd enjoy them. I had a separate message to forward to her from Aunt Irene. She's begun a correspondence with Mezoti, too, which pleases Seven and me. Aunt Irene has invited us to Sweden for the Christmas holiday season -- Mezoti, too, although she  obviously won't be able to make it. Seven and I will. We hope we'll get there before Christmas, since several events celebrating the first anniversary of Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant are planned. Mrs. Paris has already told us to "save the date" for Miral's first birthday party. She promises it will be an "extravaganza."

We'll share images of all those events with Mezoti, too. It's getting a little easier to correspond with her now that it's turned into a regular routine, but I still wish she could be here on Earth with us. Someday . . .

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

During one of his piloting lessons with Tom, shortly before Voyager's discovery of the Talaxian colony, the pilot had decided Icheb should know what to do if the artificial gravity ever failed in a shuttle he was occupying. Tom had no reason to believe his piloting protégé would be in a position to take the Spacewalk course at the Academy anytime soon. Learning how to handle weightlessness seemed advisable, given one of Tom's experiences with B'Elanna, when they had to evacuate their shuttle just before it exploded.

Once the Delta Flyer attained orbit around a fairly large moon, Tom demonstrated the deliberate way a person needed to move in zero-G. "If your movements are jerky," he explained, "you're liable to shoot across the compartment and maybe slam your head against a bulkhead." After Icheb seemed to have gotten the hang of the technique, Tom turned the level of artificial gravity to half of Luna normal. They practiced for several more minutes before Tom turned it off completely, and both of them began to float around the cabin. At one point, Icheb pushed off the ceiling a little too crisply and bounced off the floor. With his quick reflexes, he was able to grab hold of the back of the navigator's seat and stabilize his motion before crashing into anything else, especially Tom.

Once they'd maneuvered back into the pilot and co-pilot seats, Tom turned the gravity back on. "You did well, Icheb. That's the first practical exercise covered during the six-week Spacewalk course at the Academy. Cadets take it during their third year. We'll practice inside the shuttle a few more times before proceeding to the spacewalk stage. When Voyager's in orbit around a planet where it would be a safe place to practice those techniques, I'll ask the captain to allow us to go outside of the ship. B'Elanna will be delighted if you qualify to complete repairs on the hull while the ship is aloft. Our Day of Honor 'spacewalk' was one of the best things that ever happened in our personal life, but we did almost die. She always turns a lovely shade of green whenever she thinks she needs to go outside the ship in an environmental suit. I suspect that's the real reason she asked the captain to land on a planet for that refit when we were in Lokirrim space. She was able to complete a fine-tooth check on the exterior dressed in her uniform."

The opportunity never arose. Voyager returned to the Alpha Quadrant very soon afterwards. Icheb told this story to his suitemates, however, and the week before their class was scheduled to begin, he demonstrated what Tom had shown him. Everyone practiced the movements wherever they walked inside their suite. "Thanks for the lessons, Icheb " Austin said at one point during their practice sessions. "It'll be great to be ahead of the curve in this class." And they were.

While Icheb and his suitemates were orbiting the Earth, especially while they were outside of the spacecraft and practicing exterior repairs, they enjoyed another experience that was almost as fascinating as learning how to manage their movements while weightless. For the entire six weeks, the great blue globe of Earth spun beneath them, glowing with its diverse beauty. The sands of deserts, the rocky promontories of mountain ranges, and, especially, the sparkling blue and green seas, revealed themselves in steady progression, day after day, while the lights of cities sparkled when they passed over the night side. They observed the weather from far above the surface, tracking several tropical storms forming off the coast of Africa, and as the trade winds blew them across the Atlantic Ocean to the Caribbean. Three deepened into severe hurricanes. Austin kept close watch on one that threatened to hit the Texas coast. It wobbled southward, slamming into the Yucatan and then into the interior of Mexico rather than maintaining a destructive course towards his home outside of Austin.

One day, as they stood together at one of the viewports of the station where the class was being held and watched one of the storms cross the ocean, Austin asked Icheb "Did your home planet have weather patterns like this?"

"I don't know. I wasn't there long enough to learn much about the weather patterns on Brunal."

"I'm sorry. I knew you weren't . . . I shouldn't have brought it up," the Texan murmured.

"It's okay, Austin. I can't forget my home planet. I know the percentage of the surface covered with water is much less than Earth's. I noticed that when Voyager was in orbit over Brunal, while I was refusing to even meet my parents. I couldn't access any of my early memories, but maybe my subconscious wanted to warn me of danger. I remember thinking it was a desolate sort of place, compared to a pretty planet we'd visited on Shore Leave not long before. I don't know if it was always grim like that, or if Borg incursions had something to do with the way it looked." He sighed then and added, "From orbit, you could see many scars left behind after the Borg assimilated entire cities. The damage to the environment was catastrophic. I remember my father Leucon telling me that this was the reason our people developed genetic resequencing technology. They needed to develop plants to restore the planet's ecology."

"Bajor suffered like that from the Occupation. The Cardassians poisoned entire districts on my planet through carelessness -- or sometimes just to be mean. They stole our resources and didn't care what would happen to us after they left. Our scientists are still trying to restore those areas using similar technology, and sometimes, the old-fashioned kind of breeding plants and animals through observation, trial, and error," Farys remarked.

Verit was the one who put it in perspective for all of them. "In my studies, I learned Earth's own people seriously threatened its environment when they developed some industries without taking steps to protect the biosphere. Fortunately, during the 21st century, steps were taken which limited the damage. They used plant life to remove excess carbon from the air, which stopped the average global temperatures from rising as quickly as they had during the previous two centuries. The size of the ice caps stabilized. When you see it now, so blue and aesthetically pleasing, it's easy to forget that destruction can come from the carelessness of the populace of a planet just as easily as it can from external invaders."

"That's good to remember, Verit. Thanks to my time on Voyager, I've seen many worlds. It would tragic if a lovely one like this were destroyed by the Borg. And even more, if its own populace ruined it through short-sightedness."

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Icheb spent the first weekend he was back on Earth with Seven. Chakotay was at a conference in Luna City and wasn't expected back until Sunday night.

Seven smiled and hugged Icheb when he entered the house; but after they sat down to enjoy the autumn garden, her mood was contemplative, almost Borg-like. Icheb asked her if she was feeling well.

"I'm fine," she replied. "It's just . . . I'm sure you've noticed Chakotay and I aren't arguing as much as we were, but it's not because we're more comfortable with each other. We have little to say to one another anymore. We seem to have drifted apart."

When Icheb asked her why she believes that, she admitted, "He often attends social events with Captain Janeway which I'm unable to attend. The Delta Flyer project is in its final stages, and I often must remain available to consult with our staff. It's not a problem if the event is on Earth, but many are elsewhere in the Sol System, out of transporter range."

"What does he say to you when you tell him you can't go? Does he decline invitations when you can't accompany him?"

"Chakotay accepts all social engagement invitations offered unless there's a conflict with his own schedule. He says he's grateful he was permitted to return to Starfleet and was promoted to captain. If he's asked to represent Starfleet, he goes. 'It's one of the duties of rank.'"

Icheb replied, "It is, but that doesn't mean he must accept every invitation."

She sighed. "I'm sure it's not. It's a sign of his discontent with the status of our relationship. We've had heated arguments in the past, especially over my lack of interest in becoming a Starfleet officer. He believes I would be offered a Starfleet commission immediately if I expressed an interest. Others have also told me this, but I can't understand why Chakotay, of all people, doesn't understand my unwillingness to comply. Even if, as he says, my knowledge, experience, and memories from Starfleet officers who had been assimilated by the Borg would allow me to be appointed without further schooling, I simply do not want a formal rank of any kind. My time in the Tertiary Adjunct to Unimatrix 01 was enough for me. I'm content with my position as a civilian consultant. Becoming an officer is your dream, not mine."

"Then you shouldn't worry about it. No one can accuse you of failing to contribute your expertise to Starfleet, even though you're not an officer. Tell me, Civilian Consultant, if your project is in its final stages, what you will do next? Will you remain here, on Earth?"

"I may move to Utopia Planitia. The staff there has invited me to work with them on the Folding Space Drive Project once the Delta Flyer shuttle series is ready for production."

"I thought the problems were all solved. The Delta Flyer shuttles have that folding space drive installed, don't they? Or did your team give up on that?"

"No, Icheb. The version the engineers finally came up with works well enough on a craft the size of a shuttle, but it's still not viable for larger spaceships. That's what they want us to work on. They've asked B'Elanna to join the work group as well."

"What about Tom? He's expecting to return to his position as Voyager's chief helmsman once the refit has been finished."

She looked away, a sad expression on her face. "I believe the refit has been finished for several weeks. Voyager hasn't been cleared for relaunch."

"Do you think it ever will be?"

"No," she said brusquely. "I believe the ship will become a museum. While Captain Janeway and most of our crew want the ship returned to active status, many in Starfleet Command would prefer that it remains on the ground forever. I understand many Federation Council representatives are also in favor of the museum concept."

Both fell silent for several minutes. Icheb had hoped to be able to serve on Voyager someday, preferably under Captain Janeway. That seemed unlikely now. He didn't like the idea the captain would accept a promotion to admiral, even though he knew the rumor she would "any day now" circulated constantly within Starfleet circles.

His desires meant nothing to those who had the power to make such a decision. Obsessing over what might never be was useless. His time would be better spent enjoying the surrounding garden. It was peaceful. He hadn't been able to visit it often enough since Seven moved to this house. The soft breeze stirred his hair, closely-clipped as it was, and caused the fall flowers to bob gently, almost as if they were the heads of alien animal life forms rather than representatives of the Terran plant kingdom. He would miss this if Seven moved to Mars to work at Utopia Planitia. When he mentioned this observation to Seven, however, she surprised him by her reply.

"I may keep the house. The position at Utopia Planitia would be time limited. Once that commitment is fulfilled, I may wish to return to Earth. I like this house. Besides, you should have a home available to you for as long as you're at the Academy."

"And, of course, Chakotay will still be living here, since he teaches at the Academy," Icheb remarked.

Seven turned away from him after he said this and looked far away into the distance. Eventually, she murmured softly, "I don't know if he would wish to remain here without me. Or with me, for that matter."

"Seven! What are you saying?"

She turned her eyes back to him and asked, "You've seen him with Captain Janeway, walking on campus, haven't you? Whenever I see him with Captain Janeway, they seem to be at ease with each other. She touches him on the arm, and he smiles back at her in the way I used to see him look at me. He seems to be more attached to her now than to me. Do you agree?"

He'd seen them together many times, and not just on campus. Whenever they were together, although he didn't notice any overt indications of a romance, he couldn't miss seeing how much they enjoyed each other's company. Icheb didn't know how to answer her. She did it for him.

"By your silence, you've confirmed my opinion."

"They're very good friends." The skeptical expression on her face after he made this innocuous, accurate, but very obvious observation prompted him to add, "Very good friends. Seven, please don't be upset, but from what I've seen, Chakotay and Janeway do seem good for each other."

She sighed. "I can't be upset when I think they are, too. Icheb, do you think Chakotay and I are what B'Elanna calls Harry and Libby's relationship? 'Mok'tah,' I believe is the Klingon term?"

"You've talked about this with B'Elanna?"

"She's known Chakotay for a long time. I asked her what she thought. I knew she would give me her honest opinion. When I asked her if she thought he was more attached to Captain Janeway than me, she didn't want to answer me at first, either. Then she admitted she did. She said she'd never understood how we became a couple in the first place. Then she mentioned her grandmother used that Klingon term about her parents, who separated when B'Elanna was just a child. I asked her to tell me exactly what this meant, and she did. It hurt, but I could see why she said it. Chakotay and I are . . . very different."

Icheb didn't say anything. He realized he didn't have to. Seven tightened her chin in the way she always did when coming to a decision with which she would brook no arguments. "I doubt our relationship will last much longer. It may be better if we broke up now. There's no point in prolonging a liaison that is no longer viable."

"If you do break up, will you be able to remain friends with him? And with the captain?"

"It will be difficult, but it will be much harder to interact with each other in the future if we end our relationship in a bitter argument. Captain Janeway has been my mentor and defender ever since my link with the Collective was broken. She's placed herself in harm's way for me many times. As fraught as our relationship has sometimes been, to end our friendship because we are both attracted to the same man would be unjust." She looked away from Icheb. "I'm not even sure I am attracted to Chakotay the way I was in the beginning. He's a fine man, but I think the Klingon term may be accurate. We aren't a good match."

"I wish I could say otherwise, but I've thought that for quite a while now."

She sighed as she continued to gaze into the distance, in the direction of the Pacific Ocean, although it wasn't visible from this garden. The only sign it was nearby was the faint scent of brine in the sea breeze blowing towards them. Eventually she said, "I will miss Chakotay. In the beginning, we shared a loving relationship."

"I'm sure you did, but Chakotay is the first man you ever had a relationship with. Your first love. There will be others, Seven. What you're feeling now is normal. Tom told me all about it when I broke up with my girlfriend."

Her head whipped around and she stared at him. "Girlfriend? What girlfriend?"

Whoops! He'd forgotten he'd never mentioned Jolana Tor to Seven before this. Sheepishly, he admitted, "I was seeing a cadet for a short time. My suitemates all thought Jolana and I were 'mok'tah,'  too."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"I tried to, once. Remember when I came to your house last spring? We spoke about gardening, but what I really wanted to talk with you about was my girlfriend. When I saw how things were between you and Chakotay, I didn't feel I could bring it up. You seemed so at odds with each other. I left early that day. I asked you if anything was wrong. You told me I shouldn't be concerned, but I couldn't help it. I was. Jolana dumped me a week or so after that."

Seven sighed. "You had a right to be concerned after all, Icheb. I'm sorry. If you'd confided in me, I would have listened and given you advice -- although I'm not sure how valuable it would have been. I haven't managed my own relationship very well."

"I spoke with Tom Paris. He helped me."

"He has ample experience in the subject," she remarked drily.

Icheb laughed. "He told me I had a case of 'First Love.' When you experience these feelings for the first time, you're sure you've found the perfect mate. When it doesn't work out, you feel terrible. Later on, though, when you find someone else, you know what love is all about because you've had that first experience. He told me when you feel real love, you'll know the difference."

"Axum was my first love, Icheb."

"That isn't the same thing. You were never physically together. Until you're actually with someone, and truly share yourselves, body and soul, you don't really know."

"Unimatrix Zero was a very unique place. How do you know what we shared?"

Icheb wasn't sure how to respond to this. Mezoti knew more about Unimatrix Zero than he did. However, the bodies of Seven and Axum were physically half a galaxy away from each other's whenever they visited that virtual reality. Icheb decided to answer her with another question. "I don't know much about it, that's true. Let me ask you this, though. Did you ever feel about Chakotay the way you felt about Axum? I remember how sad you were when you realized how far away Axum was from you in reality. That you could never be with him again in any way, since Unimatrix Zero had been destroyed."

She took a deep breath before answering, "I don't think I ever did. After I remembered how it had been between Axum and me in Unimatrix Zero, I didn't want it to ever end."

"I'm sure you didn't," he said, smiling sadly. "Is that why you've clung so closely to Chakotay for so long?"

"Not really. After what we learned about our relationship on Admiral Janeway's Voyager, I was sure we would be able to overcome our problems eventually. I thought our love would be enough. It isn't."

"Seven, with the limited number of available partners on that ship, and its long period of isolation from the Federation, that Seven and Chakotay had plenty of time to work out the rough spots. Admiral Janeway wanted to convince our captain to change her mind and cooperate with her plan. She told us what she needed to push her agenda along. She may not have known about any serious disagreements the two of them had. On the admiral's Voyager, there weren't any real alternatives for either of you."

"Chakotay could have entered into a relationship with Captain Janeway."

"You know she'd never have let that happen while they were captain and first officer of the same ship. She'd never have broken the protocols forbidding it. I'm not sure he would, either."

For a moment, he thought she might argue the point, but then she admitted, "It's true. If they'd wished, they could have formed a relationship long before I arrived on Voyager."

"Many of the crew believe they did, while the two were marooned on the planet called New Earth because of an insect-borne illness. They were alone for months and never expected to be able to leave. From what Tom, Harry, and B'Elanna have said, no one knows exactly what happened during that time, but when Voyager came back with the antidote, they didn't seem as excited about their 'rescue' as the crew expected. From then on, as the most senior officers on the ship, they remained close friends, but no one believed they ever went further than that. They always followed the Starfleet protocols about non-fraternization."

Seven pondered this for a long while, but when she spoke again, her question changed the subject. "Does it upset you to know Chakotay will not adopt you now?"

"He never did in the admiral's time stream, even though he married her Seven. I don't know how my counterpart felt about their relationship. I wish I'd received a letter from him, to find out what he really thought of their marriage. The admiral's letter said they were a happy family 'as far as anyone knew.' I find that curious wording. I sometimes think her Icheb felt left out of their relationship but never pushed the issue while his mother was alive. And once she was gone, that Chakotay sounds like he became seriously depressed. I'm not really upset our Chakotay never made any overtures about adopting me, even though having a father to love me would be nice."

"Chakotay and I discussed the possibility several times. He was ambivalent about adopting you because you had almost reached adulthood. I was unhappy he thought having a mother was enough for you. He believed we should have a child of our own."

"Could you? In the admiral's letter, she stated her Seven was unable to have a baby. The Borg put our Six of Six in a maturation chamber right away, when she was nowhere near being ready to live on her own. Is there a reason for that other than convenience?"

"Before you came to Voyager, I did have a child -- in a way, since he became an adult within hours of his birth. My son One was created from the Doctor's 29^th century mobile emitter, my DNA, and Ensign Mulcahy's. One's entire gestation was spent inside an advanced maturation chamber. Perhaps I would require such a device to have a baby of my own."

When she paused, Icheb hesitantly suggested, "Chakotay might have preferred to adopt Mezoti. She's younger. He might have found it easier to accept that she needed a father."

Seven gazed sadly at Icheb. "Perhaps. I would have preferred to adopt both of you."

=/\=

Stardate 55894.4 7 Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

My mother Seven and Chakotay have agreed they will be better off if they lived apart. He moved out of the house two days ago, into an apartment building reserved for Academy faculty. It's closer to the campus than Seven's house is, but not by much. They'll still be neighbors. They've agreed to remain friends and expect to continue to socialize occasionally. She asked me not to mention their separation to any of our friends and crewmates, which is a little disturbing. While Seven expects her relationship to end now that Chakotay has moved out of the house, she admits to retaining a slight glimmer of hope that "absence will make our hearts grow fonder." I do not wish to disillusion her, but I don't see that happening. However, I will honor her wishes not to disclose the change in their relationship until they see fit to announce it themselves.

There will be a big formal dinner marking the first anniversary of Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant in December, just before Christmas. Starfleet began planning it months ago, and Chakotay and Seven have agreed to attend together. Miral's first birthday party will be the same day, in the afternoon. Seven isn't sure she'll go to that one, since it will be geared to children. I plan on going to Miral's party on my own. Mrs. Paris asked me to help her set up some of the activities she has planned for the children at the party.

As a member of Voyager's crew, I was also invited to the formal dinner, of course. My suitemates received invitations as well. Austin will be home with his family for the holidays by then, but Verit and Farys will both come with me to the anniversary celebration. Technically, my "date" will be Farys. Verit will be attending "stag," since she's now a married woman. Torin left for his long-range expedition two weeks ago. He's not expected to return until after our graduation from the Academy. Farys was quite upset by the way he "abandoned" his bride, but Verit explained it isn't that unusual for Vulcan spouses to spend years apart. Tuvok and T'Pel were separated for more than seven years! While that is unusual, neither of them anticipated it would last that long.

Since she knows I'm aware of the facts of Vulcan life, thanks to what I learned on Voyager, Verit also spoke to me in private about the situation. She told me Vulcan couples do attempt to be near each other when they know the "time that is appointed" will soon arrive. Usually, they try to remain in close proximity from the end of the sixth year of their "cycle" until their pon farr is resolved. While to Farys or anyone else who asks, she claims to be completely "at peace" with her new husband's decision to take part in an expedition that will last for almost two years, I know she isn't. I think the reason she discussed it with me was to reassure herself that it doesn't bother her, when it actually does.  

If I wasn't keeping Seven and Chakotay's separation to myself, as I was asked, I would have discussed my perceptions about their situation with Verit. I can't, of course, but I have thought about it -- a lot. I see why they were attracted to each other. He's a very handsome man. She's an exceptionally attractive woman. Because of their limited opportunities for finding a compatible mate on Voyager, they became involved without taking into account the difficulties their very different personalities might present to an ongoing relationship. I can't blame Seven about this. Her lack of experience in these matters blinded her to the likelihood they would have difficulties adjusting to each other. I do wonder why Chakotay failed to anticipate problems, however. They were at odds from the very first hour Seven arrived on Voyager, and even more after the captain "adopted" her into the "Voyager collective." He's much older than she is, but the gap in their ages wouldn't have mattered if they viewed life the same way. He's a spiritual man who relies on his past experiences as well as his instincts when he makes decisions. Seven is all about facts and figures, but she's prone to making snap decisions. That can lead to complications which would be avoided if she weren't so quick to act.

What bothers me the most, however, is that he knows how difficult relationships can be. He was involved with Seska, a Cardassian spy (as B'Elanna often laments, since she was taken in by her as completely as Chakotay was). A former Borg, Riley Frazier, romanced him and then used him when the group she was part of wanted to form a "Cooperative." I know about those encounters because they happened on Voyager. It's hard to believe he hasn't had other romantic relationships even before this. He should have known better than to become involved with Seven, who was as innocent as a child in such matters. Her only previous attachment was with Axum during visits to Unimatrix Zero. As strongly as Seven may have felt about Axum, their entire relationship was played out within the confines of a virtual reality world. No matter how "real" it seemed to be, it was all, quite literally, in their minds. The little she actually knew about the physical aspects of relationships came from vague memories she retained from beings who'd enjoyed such experiences before their assimilation. I've compared my affair with Jolana to my memories from the same source. There's simply no comparison.

Admiral Janeway described how despondent her Chakotay became after he lost Seven on her Voyager. I wonder -- was that relationship really as close and loving as the admiral said it was? Or maybe thought it was? Did he fall apart because he felt guilt as much as pain from his lost love? The journey to the Alpha Quadrant lasted thirteen more years for the admiral's crew. After he lost Seven, he fell into a deep depression and never came out of it for the rest of his life. My Captain Janeway fell victim to that malady herself at one time, according to Neelix, so I guess she knew a lot about it from first-hand experience. But I also remember what Neelix told me about its source. Captain Janeway's depression originated from her feelings of guilt that she'd stranded the crews of Voyager and the Val Jean in the Delta Quadrant, protecting strangers instead of finishing her mission and saving her own people.

I guess I may be reading too much into this. We can't ask the admiral about the details anymore. She's gone. So is the entire history of her Voyager and its crew. All I can do is speculate, but I think the story she told us might have been oversimplified. She came back in time to change history to save the lives of the members of the crew she lost, including my counterpart. I accept that as fact. I'm sure she grieved for years. My Captain Janeway still grieves over those she lost in the seven years our Voyager traveled through the Delta Quadrant. It also must have been terrible to watch Chakotay fall apart while Tuvok deteriorated mentally. I wonder if guilt, rather than grief, was an even bigger factor than she'd admitted to us. And how much worse would it have been for her if she had loved Chakotay all those years, a love which would remain unrequited throughout her entire lifetime? If she felt for him the way my crewmates believe she did, his inconsolable grief must have been unbearable for her to witness.

I'm sure Seven will get over him eventually. I'm confident she'll find someone else to love who will be a much better match for her than Chakotay was. And now that Chakotay is free, I hope he'll find another love, too. There are no protocols forbidding a relationship with Captain Janeway anymore. They hold the same rank, and they aren't in the same chain of command.

I've learned enough about First Love from my research to know what I must do, or in some ways, not do, for Seven. First, I'll allow my mother to mourn her loss. A lost love is much like a death, I've discovered. There are stages of grief. I must be prepared for her to be angry with me sometimes, just because I'm there. She will be depressed at times, too. I'll resist the temptation to try to set her up with someone I'd like for a father. That doesn't work out very often. While there are a few stories about that happening, I have a hunch the reason people like to hear them is because they're so rarely successful. I'll make time to visit her at home as often as I can, even though I'll be busy with school. I must let her give vent to her emotions, especially since she now feels them fully. Eventually she'll feel better.

And it will be much easier in one way. I won't have to agonize anymore over Seven and Chakotay, a couple who, as B'Elanna said, are "mok'tah." A bad match.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Classes were suspended during the traditional holiday of Thanksgiving, held at the end of November in this part of the North American continent. Seven and Icheb received several invitations to spend the long weekend with various friends and acquaintances. Captain Janeway's mother Gretchen extended an offer to enjoy the day with the Janeway family in Indiana. Seven was reluctant to accept. She was certain Chakotay would be there. While their parting might have been "amicable," the wound left by the failure of their relationship was still raw. Since she'd already committed to accompanying him to the dinner commemorating Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant, she didn't want to see him again so soon.

Admiral and Mrs. Paris also extended an invitation to dinner. Their home was already going to be a quite literal "full house," however. Tom's sisters' families were coming, as was Reg Barclay, along with several more of Admiral Paris' colleagues from Project Pathfinder. And the Rikaar family was due to arrive from Bajor the day before the holiday.

Harry Kim's parents invited Icheb and Seven to their home, too. Once Icheb learned Libby would be there, he was very relieved when Seven thanked Mr. and Mrs. Kim for thinking of them, but they "already had plans."

Fortunately, this didn't turn out to be a falsehood. Austin had invited Icheb "and your beautiful mom" to Texas for his family's traditional Thanksgiving celebration. Icheb thought Seven might turn that one down, too; but when she learned Verit and Farys, who were both far away from their families, would also be there, she explained, "You have nothing but good things to say about your suitemates, Icheb. I've spent little time with them thus far. This will be an opportunity for me to get to know them."

Austin was delighted and promised to take his guests on a tour of the Texas Hill Country. "We'll be too full after dinner on Thanksgiving Day, but on Friday and Saturday, be ready to travel!"

=/\=

When Seven and Icheb arrived at Austin's home, they were a little overwhelmed with the number of people celebrating the holiday with the Sanchez family. Austin's three aunts, four uncles, ten cousins, along with his older brother's wife and children, created quite a crowd. "We get rowdy sometimes, but we all love each other. You'll see. We'll have lots of fun."

Icheb was confused when Austin's Uncle Jack called someone Jethro, and Austin answered. Farys began to giggle, and Verit's eyebrow arched high, as it always did when she found something amusing. "What? Is your uncle calling you Jethro?"

Austin sighed melodramatically and said, "I confess. That's me. Jethro is an old family name, and I'm the one in this generation unlucky enough to get stuck with it."

"So you're not really 'Austin from Austin' after all?" Icheb asked, unable to hold in his smile.

"Oh, he's not from Austin really. We're miles from there," Austin's nephew Jimmy explained.

"But Austin is my middle name," Icheb's suitemate replied.

"But the name came from the city," Icheb remarked.

"Not exactly. Momma's name before she married Pa was Dorothea Austin. My name comes from her old surname. So, now you know. I'm amazed Farys or Verit didn't tell you before. They were here for the holidays last year. They already knew about it."

"Your preferred designation is Austin. That's all true friends should consider," Seven proclaimed, in her best Borg-influenced manner. "I understand perfectly. After we returned to Earth, I asked to be called by my human name, Annika Hansen. Almost all of my acquaintances still call me Seven. At least Lieutenant Kim complies with my request and calls me Annika. It's very annoying. I've made my choice of designation perfectly clear. Why can't everyone use it?"

Icheb smiled quizzically. "Does that mean you want me to call you Annika -- or Mom?"

"That's precisely the reason I become so annoyed. Seven is your name for me. It isn't one for anyone else to use."

"That's a relief -- Seven," Icheb said, prompting a smile from his mother and a general ripple of "Miz Hansens" from all around the room. That's when Icheb noticed that everyone at the Sanchez home already called his adoptive mother Miz Hansen, and they were considerate enough to continue to do so throughout the weekend.

When they sat down to dinner, the long farmhouse table was loaded with food, much of it grown on the homestead. The Sanchez home was a well-preserved farmhouse constructed in the mid twenty-first century, but in a farmhouse style more commonly built over 150 years earlier. With almost fifty acres of land, the family continued to raise chickens for eggs, kept a couple of milk cows, and coddled a pair of longhorn cattle who were "Momma's pets," according to Austin. Most of the land was farmed. Many of the vegetables for the meal came from the huge kitchen garden Austin's parents tended religiously. Thanksgiving dinner was cooked in the kitchen in the old-fashioned way, inside an oven and on top of the stove.

When Verit learned the centerpiece of the meal, the roasted turkey, had been gobbling on the grounds until a short time ago and hadn't been produced out of a replicator, she passed on the meat and gravy. From the previous year's visit, however, Mrs. Sanchez knew Verit was a vegetarian who ate some dairy. She'd prepared several special dishes without ingredients which might offend Vulcan sensibilities. In addition to the green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes with marshmallow topping (although Verit discreetly left most of the topping to the side as "too sweet"), and hot rolls with butter enjoyed by everyone, there was one dish which was very much a surprise. When the tureen was placed in front of her, Verit was clearly pleased to see what it contained. "Plomeek Soup? Mrs. Sanchez! How . . . ?"

"You Academy types aren't the only ones who can research things, Darlin'. I wanted something special for you that you might have if you were home on Vulcan for a special day like Thanksgiving. Farys, I looked for a good Bajoran recipe, but the only thing I found for the home cook was Jumja tea! So, that's all I can offer you."

"I love Jumja tea! Thank you so much! Mrs. Sanchez, don't apologize. When I was a very young child, right after the Occupation ended, I remember many times when there wasn't much of anything for my family to eat. After I learned of this holiday, I thought it was a perfect way to show gratitude.  I'm happy to eat whatever you wish to share with me. Food in abundance is a gift from the Prophets. I'll ask them to bless your family for your kindness to all of us."

Several people around the table murmured their thanks and blessings, as well. Icheb glanced at Seven, who was sitting next to him, and brushed her hand. She squeezed back -- very gently, since it was her left, Borg-enhanced limb he'd touched. He was grateful for this chance to spend an extended amount of time with his adoptive mother. It was the first opportunity they'd had in some time, and he wanted her to know how special it was for him, too.

Austin's Aunt Maria had prepared a special treat to supplement the pumpkin, apple, and pecan pies Austin's mother had baked. When Seven saw it was New York-style cheesecake, she said she'd like to try pecan pie. Icheb suppressed his smile. When Verit asked him about it later, when they were walking around the garden while Seven was inside speaking with Austin's mother (and definitely out of earshot), Icheb told Verit about the time the Doctor hid inside Seven's neural network. "He ate a whole New York cheesecake. It was his first opportunity to explore human sensations like taste, so I understand. For weeks after they returned to Voyager, Seven went to Sickbay when she ate dinner to describe the flavors to him. I don't think it was totally altruistic of her, though. She was getting back at him. Her clothing was much too tight for several days because of his overindulgence. She had to go on a 'diet.' And she wasn't happy about it."

On Friday and Saturday, Austin brought Seven and his suitemates around the Texas Hill Country and shared several sites of historical interest with them. As Icheb noted to Seven when they were flying over a very dry part of the countryside, "It's not much like Sweden."

Seven agreed. "No, it isn't; but I do like it here. The people are very friendly. I believe hospitable is the correct term. I like all your suitemates." She paused before adding, at a whisper, "Especially Verit."

"That's not a surprise, is it? Vulcans and Borg tend to look at things the same way."

"Yes, they do."

"Are you glad you agreed to come here for the holiday instead of going to Mrs. Janeway's or Admiral Paris's?"

"Yes, I am. I've enjoyed meeting people who follow a different way of living than Starfleet's. It's as if we're exploring a new world. It's . . . refreshing."

"In a way, it is a different world," Icheb agreed. "We spend so much of our time in cities. Here in the country, it's a little like we've traveled back in time to visit earlier days on this planet. Sort of like a trip to Tom's Fair Haven -- except here, everything's real."

=/\=

On Sunday, a little before they were to share their final meal with their hosts, Seven pulled on the high-heeled western boots she'd borrowed from Austin's Aunt Maria and walked with Icheb around the perimeter of the property. A chilly wind was blowing out of the north, forcing them to sustain a brisk pace, but their cheeks were ruddy from the wind by the time their steps brought them back to the farm buildings. Before going on up to the house, Seven stepped through the barn doors. Icheb followed her inside. Although the cows and other livestock were still out in the fields, it was much warmer inside the barn and out of the wind. The smell of hay, mingled with a slight whiff of "barnyard," as Austin put it, made for a peaceful atmosphere.

Seven surprised Icheb by putting her arms around his shoulders and giving him a gentle squeeze. It wasn't something she did very often.

"Icheb, I'm glad I came with you to spend this holiday with your friends and Austin's family. We celebrated Thanksgiving on Voyager, of course, but many of Neelix's little 'traditional touches' to it remained, even after he left the ship. Now I can see how many of his 'traditions' had more to do with Talax than they did with Thanksgiving on Earth."

"True, but then, he wanted to include everyone, not just the humans. Making Plomeek Soup and getting Jumja tea for Farys was very nice of Mrs. Sanchez. It's something Neelix would have done."

"It was," Seven agreed.

"That's one thing Neelix always got right. He knew this holiday is all about giving thanks for your family and friends."

"That's very true. That's why I've been trying to find a way to say something to you. I believe I've found a good time for it. Icheb, when you asked me to adopt you, I thought it only right. You'd suffered pain . . . no, don't interrupt me. Let me finish. You offered me a part of your own self so that I could live. You were right about not actually needing your cortical node to survive; but if you did, you would have died. So, I thought it was my duty to take on the role of an older sister to you. Adoption would provide you with the stability in your life which had been denied to you up until then. I was pleased to be of service to you in this way."

Icheb felt the skin of his face becoming warm. He doubted it had anything at all to do with the aftereffects of the chilly Texas wind. "I'm glad I could be of service to you, too. We've been over this, I think? I still feel the same way towards you, Seven. I will always be grateful because you saved my life, too . . ."

"Icheb," she said softly, "I thought of myself as an older sister, but now I believe I understand what B'Elanna must feel for Miral, and Lieutenant Wildman feels about Naomi. I am so thankful to have you. You have cared for me, put up with me when I was unjust to you . . . and yes, I know there have been times I have been unjust . . . and, especially, although you realized my romance with Chakotay was fated to end poorly, you never said anything about it to me. You let me find out for myself; and when I was ready to talk about it, you listened. We have become a family far beyond my expectations. Perhaps I can say this now because the word has been said many times this weekend. I'm blessed to have you in my life. I could not have a better son."

Just as they had when the Doctor told Seven he would survive after the cortical node surgery transferring the essential Borg part from Icheb to Seven, several tears rolled out of Seven's eyes. Icheb found his own vision was blurred, and he was sure it was from the same bodily function. "Thank you, Seven. Or do you want me to call you 'Mom' or 'Annika' after all?" He smiled at that, because he was certain he knew the answer.

Of course, he did know what she would reply, but not the reason. "Seven is still the name you should use. But Icheb, you must understand, whenever you call me 'Seven,' what I hear you say is 'Mommy.'"

=/\=

Stardate 55986.1 Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

Today was a very big day -- or I guess I should say yesterday was, since I'm writing this in the early morning hours, after the events are over. Miral's first birthday party was held in the afternoon. Mrs. Paris scaled her plans back because of the big First Anniversary party in the evening, but it was still a pretty big deal. It was geared primarily to young children, but Naomi and I were both invited, too. Vedek Rikaar and her family are still here. They came to spend Thanksgiving with Admiral and Mrs. Paris, but they convinced them to spend the Christmas holidays with them, too. "Like old times," the vedek said. When she was at the Academy with Tom, she spent every Christmas break with the Paris family.

Chakotay had begged off because of the big dinner party in the evening, but Seven came to help Naomi and me control the masses of kids who had been invited. Naomi reminded her of her infamous "fun will now commence" comment when she first brought Mezoti, the twins, and me to play Kadis-kot on Voyager. Seven is able to laugh now at how rigid she'd been then. I'm a little ashamed at the way I behaved that day. Even though I still believe I needed to assert myself at the time, I could have been less belligerent about it. I was glad to see that Seven enjoyed the birthday party. She ran the piñata-breaking activity with great -- efficiency.

Miral's party ended at 1600 hours. We all had to rush home to get ready for the dinner that night, which started at 1900. When I entered with Farys and Verit on either arm, we arrived just before Seven walked in with Chakotay. They both sat up on the dais next to Captain Janeway. The rest of the senior staff was up there, too. I noticed Harry and Tom getting a little rowdy. I realize they were drinking some very good wine from the Picard family vineyards, but I think the fact this was likely to be the last grand "return" celebration for quite a while probably had a lot to do with their behavior. Of course, since Libby was sitting at the table with Admiral and Mrs. Paris, not next to Harry, that might have had something to do with their giddy mood, too.

Although Seven and Chakotay were sitting next to one another, whenever I looked at them, he was speaking with Captain Janeway, not Seven. I felt very bad for her. They still haven't announced their split publicly. From the way Captain Janeway was looking at Chakotay, I think she must know it by now. During the break between the soup and main entrée courses, Seven came down to our table to say hello to all of us. Before she went back up to her seat, she whispered to me, "The heart hasn't grown fonder, but it's all right." I understood. I hope so.

I danced a little with Farys. Verit preferred to spend most of her time speaking with T'Pel, and with Tuvok, too, whenever he came down from the dais to be near his wife. He's looking very well. I asked T'Pel about Asil. They're working together on a new project which she can't tell me about yet. I told her I was sorry Asil wasn't with them and asked T'Pel to say hello to her.

It's true. I get along with Vulcans very well. Unfortunately, most Vulcans wed other Vulcans. I guess I'll have to look elsewhere for a future mate.

Naomi was sitting with her parents at another table. I danced with her a couple of times, too. Her adolescent growth spurt, courtesy of her Ktarian heritage, has arrived. She's gotten tall and, I must say, very lovely. She told me she passed her academic examination for entrance to the Academy, but her parents don't want her to take the physical and psychological exams just yet. She won't be entering the Academy before her seventh birthday after all. "It's disappointing, but I know I have time," she told me. Sam is looking great. It's getting very easy to see Naomi's little brother whenever Sam turns her body sideways. She looks very happy. Gres looks even happier. Naomi said the baby will probably be born right around her own birthday. "My own personal birthday present," she said. Her eyes were twinkling, and I think she's very happy now that she won't be an only child.

It was quite an honor for me to be placed at the same table as Admiral Paris and T'Pel. Unfortunately, that meant we were at the same table as Libby, too. I wish I could get over my aversion to her, but she did nothing last night to warm me to her presence. I think the admiral asked his wife to dance as frequently as he did to get away from her incessant chatter. Libby barely said two words to T'Pel all night, even though they were sitting next to one another. Verit had taken the seat next to T'Pel, however, and my little group made conversing with her a priority. From the first time I met T'Pel, I've been impressed with her pleasant demeanor. She's very appropriately Vulcan at all times, but she exudes warmth in a way I can't really explain. Whenever I see them together, I understand why Tuvok is so devoted to his wife.

The biggest single topic of conversation at the table was whether or not Kathryn Janeway would accept promotion to admiral any time soon. Admiral Paris said, "It's only a matter of time. Whenever she says she wants it, she'll get it at once." Toward the end of the evening, after dessert had been served (no New York-style cheesecake, fortunately), Captain Picard came to our table, in the company of his chief medical officer, Dr. Beverly Crusher. At that point, the dais had emptied. Voyager's entire senior staff drew chairs up to our table and visited with each other. It was very crowded, so Verit and Farys left to speak with Naomi about what it was like to go to the Academy "from our perspective," as Verit put it.

As soon as the subject of Captain Janeway becoming Admiral Janeway was broached, the captain exchanged a quick glance with me. I thought she must be thinking about our visitor from the future. I know I was. Tom asked Captain Picard why he'd never accepted a promotion to admiral. Everyone knows it's been offered to him many times. Captain Picard said that he prefers to sit in the captain's chair. He'd rather be in the thick of the action rather than be the person who second-guessed the captains who had to act quickly, with whatever information they had available -- even when it wasn't very much at all. Admiral Paris pointed out that captains and admirals both had power, but a captain's was different from the kind admirals possessed. He asked Captain Janeway which she would prefer to exercise. She laughed off his question. Instead, she replied that as long as she's a captain, she can look forward to becoming an admiral. If she's already an admiral, "The only thing I can look forward to is retirement!" Even though most of the people at the table laughed, I noticed Tom didn't look very happy. I didn't laugh at all. I would prefer she remain a captain for the rest of her life.

As the party was breaking up, Harry asked if anyone wanted to get together for a more private celebration after the New Year. He thought he might be able to get reservations at Sisko's in New Orleans sometime in January. Seven and Chakotay agreed to go, which surprised me. Seven and I are leaving for Sweden tomorrow, and the day after New Year's, we're scheduled to go to Brooklyn to meet more of Seven's mother's family. Seven will stay in Brooklyn for a couple of days, but the Delta Flyer project is finally wrapping up. She'll be needed here for that. This means she'd be available for dinner at Sisko's, though.

I thanked Harry for the invitation, but I want to visit longer with the McGinty side of the family. My semester break doesn't end for more than a week after Seven must return to San Francisco. The family promised to take me to see some of the sights of New York City, since I've never been there. I want to order cheesecake while I'm there (although I don't plan on telling Seven). I'd like to see how the genuine article compares to the version I tasted in Texas.

I briefly spoke with Seven before I brought Verit and Farys back to campus. I admit, I was worried. I asked her if accepting Harry's plans for dinner meant she was reconsidering their relationship. She said no. "Reality has set in. It's over."  She agreed to go to Sisko's because she doubts Chakotay will. "I suspect he wants me to be the one to let our friends know we're no longer together. It's time. I'm tired of trying to avoid letting anyone know about his move to his own apartment. That was weeks ago. I don't understand why he wants to keep it a big secret."

In that case, I told her, I hope she'll have a good time at the dinner. After all, she'll have to put up with Libby! She smiled and told me, "Don't worry. I can handle anything Mrs. Byrd can say or do to me." I'm sure she can!

=/\=

Austin's family had invited them to "c'mon down to Texas" for Christmas. Verit and Farys had accepted his invitation, but Seven and Icheb had to politely decline. They'd already promised to spend the holiday with Aunt Irene in Malmö. This time, however, the only traditional holiday event they would miss was Saint Lucia's Day. Aunt Irene was not deterred. On the morning after they arrived, the traditional cakes were delivered to Seven and Icheb, courtesy of Karl Magnus' daughter Anna-Lise, who wore a crown of lit candles on her head as she brought their breakfast. "The feast day is on December 13^th, but since you couldn't be here, we decided to recreate it for you on the 23^rd," Aunt Irene explained.

After the Saint Lucia's Day make-up breakfast, the family got together and wrote up a chart with the dates each of the relatives would host a holiday party. Seven and Icheb agreed to forego any sightseeing trips. During their first stay, all the family gatherings took place at Aunt Irene's. This visit, the family members wanted to show off the decorations and their culinary skills so that everyone could enjoy a special dinner with them. At the halfway point of their stay, on the one evening which had been designated as "free, at home," Icheb commented, when they were alone, "The Hansen family appears to be very disciplined."

"Efficient may be a better term," Seven responded, smiling wryly.

"So maybe some of your love of efficiency was inherited from your family?"

"Or I may have learned it as a young child, while I was raised by my parents."

Icheb noticed that while Seven often seemed to be stifling anger when she spoke about her parents Magnus and Erin, on this occasion she seemed more pensive, even a little melancholy. To raise her spirits a little, he countered, "So you aren't totally 'Borg,' Seven. Perhaps that's why the Borg placed you in the position they did. They noticed your natural traits and assigned you tasks that suited your innate personality."

"Your hypothesis has merit," Seven agreed with a smile, and her mood became much brighter.

Afterwards, Icheb wondered what sort of position he might have filled if he had become fully Borg. Since they didn't do experiments or invent anything, but rather assimilated technologies and people they coveted, Icheb decided his own talents would have been wasted as a drone. He hoped he would never have an opportunity to find out otherwise.

=/\=

On the day after New Year's, while they were packing to visit the McGinty relatives in Brooklyn before heading back to San Francisco, Aunt Irene bustled up to them and said, "I wish you could have stayed longer! Next time, you must visit us at summer solstice so you can enjoy our long, long days! It never really gets dark in midsummer."

Seven replied, "We may do that. Icheb is scheduled for a training cruise this summer, but I'll try to come, whether he's able to or not."

Aunt Irene nodded and said she hoped Icheb could come, too. Then she sat down and said, hesitantly, "You haven't mentioned your friend Chakotay at all this trip. Has something happened to him?"

"No, Aunt Irene. He's fine. We're just not together anymore."

"I'm so sorry, Dear."

"It's for the best. If we had remained in the Delta Quadrant longer, I believe we would have become permanently attached. Our abrupt return changed everything for us. For everyone, really. But if we didn't come back as soon as we did, Icheb and I might never have met you."

A teary-eyed Aunt Irene hugged both of them in turn. "I'm glad we were able to meet again, too. Our family was broken for such a long time. It's so good to have you back."

=/\=

As planned, Seven's visit with the McGinty side of her family lasted only two days before she moved on to San Francisco. Icheb stayed for the full week. While he did go into "the city" with his family three times for theatre-going and the sampling of as many different Earth cuisines that he wanted ("Just as many as in San Francisco," he whispered to his cousin Jamie at one point),  he spent the rest of his time the same way he did during the recent visit to Scandinavia. As his great-grandfather had told him, he had a lot of aunts, uncles, and cousins in this area, and everyone wanted to meet the new relative from the other side of the galaxy.

Erin had been the middle child of five born to James and his late wife Mary. Her siblings all had at least four children each, some of whom were already producing another generation of McGintys. Icheb finally sat down one night and asked Seven's grandfather to help him make a genealogical chart so he could keep everyone straight. Since several of the cousins were close to Icheb in age, he had the chance to experience a different kind of family life from the one he knew on Voyager, or even in Sweden, where the families were smaller in size. He remembered how sad he'd felt when Q left Voyager, while they were still in the Delta Quadrant, and the only person close to his age was Naomi. The large and friendly McGinty family gave him a taste of what growing up on Earth with a large and sometimes rambunctious family must be like.   

When Icheb arrived at Seven's house after his return from Brooklyn, he said he agreed with Aunt Irene. Summer, when the weather allowed for a greater range of activities, was a better season for visits to Sweden or Brooklyn. "Your Grandfather McGinty said spring is an even better time in New York. And you can try some genuine New York style cheesecake while you're there!"

"I'll think about it," she replied, making it clear, by her expression, that she'd already made her decision about tasting any more cheesecake. "I'm glad you're home, Icheb. I missed you."

"You haven't seen me for much longer periods when I've been on campus," he said.

"True, but I knew where you were most of the time. You were easier to reach. We hardly spoke with each other while you were staying in Brooklyn."

"We did travel around a lot from house to house," he admitted. "Did you go to New Orleans for dinner the other night? Harry was able to get reservations at Sisko's, wasn't he?"

"Yes." She nodded emphatically, but she didn't say anything more until he encouraged her to "spill" what had happened. It was quite a tale.

As Seven had half-expected, Chakotay decided not to go after telling Harry he would. That left Seven to travel by herself to the restaurant and explain to their friends why he wasn't there. "Libby was simply . . . insufferable. The woman deliberately mistook every word I said. I think that's a big reason Tom and B'Elanna left even before our dinners were served. They took their meals home in carry-out containers."

"They left you alone with Harry and Libby?"

"They had a valid excuse. Miral had been crying much of the day. Her back teeth were breaking through her gums, and she was in pain. Mrs. Paris' birthday celebration was scheduled for the next day. Tom didn't want his mother dealing with a fussy Miral when there were things Mrs. Paris might wish to do to prepare for her party. I couldn't really blame them. The last thing they needed that night was to put up with someone acting more childishly than their baby -- and for far less cause. After they'd left, Libby picked a fight with me over some sort of trifle. I can't even recall what started it now. She made a complete fool of herself, accusing me of having designs on her fiancé's body, of all things. If I'd wanted Harry's body, I could have had it years ago. At any rate, she stood up and said, 'Let's go, Harry,' expecting him to take her home.

"Harry refused to cave in to her demands. He said it wouldn't be right to do that to the restaurant staff, since our dinners had already been ordered. She flounced out by herself. If she really was worried about me wanting to begin a relationship with Harry, she shouldn't have gone and left him alone with me."

"I'm sorry you had such a terrible time, Seven."

"Actually, we had a good time once Libby made her exit. Harry was being . . . Harry. He tried to make excuses for her, but then he admitted he shouldn't bother. I agreed. She isn't worthy of him. We had a very nice dinner. We had an opportunity to reminisce about our experiences on Voyager. I must admit, I wasn't always nice to him. Harry tried to help me fit in, or as he put it, to make me 'part of the team,' and I was often rude and rejected his suggestions. I sometimes told him truths he wasn't ready to hear, but he never held that against me. He's a true officer and a gentleman. While I may not have always been fair to him, he always was to me."

"I'm still sorry it happened. The next time we get together, Libby will be even more insulting than she's been in the past."

"I don't know if we will see her in the future. At Mrs. Paris' birthday party, Harry showed up without her and told us what happened when he arrived at the apartment they were sharing. She made no effort to apologize for her behavior. He told us they had a nasty fight, and he said, 'It's over.' He's living in his parents' home again. His father is happy they've broken up. Apparently he's never really liked Libby. Harry's mother is devastated. She wants grandchildren in the worst way. And if Libby were their mother, it would be exactly that!"

"Do you think he means it?"

"I do. Over dinner, we were honest with each other about the likelihood that neither of our relationships seemed destined to last. As you pointed out when I was facing the end of my romance with Chakotay, our relationship was influenced by a lack of mates available to us on Voyager. Libby turned to Harry when he came back into her life so unexpectedly, when she was still mourning the loss of her husband Daniel Byrd. They were 'engaged' to be married, but they never made any plans for a wedding. Harry admitted to me that something always held him back from committing to a date. Perhaps he sensed their relationship wasn't based on true affection."

"So, now the field is clear! You can date Harry!"

She laughed lightly. "I don't know about that, but it will be very nice to be friends and coworkers again, without worrying about her jealousy. Harry and I work well together. We always have."

"What do Tom and B'Elanna think?"

"Tom is thrilled. And B'Elanna never liked Libby, which isn't surprising. Libby is the antithesis of B'Elanna in every possible way. None of us will miss the Widow Byrd. You're not too disappointed, are you, Icheb?"

"Not going to miss her at all!" Icheb responded to Seven's teasing.

Later, when he was lying in bed, Icheb's thoughts turned to Seven and Harry. Was it possible they'd become a couple? Seven didn't think so, and Icheb didn't think it was too likely, either. Even though Icheb thought Harry would have been a better match for Seven than Chakotay, she could have become involved with him years ago if she'd desired him. At least they could explore the possibility now, if they wished. If so, they'd better get started soon. Seven confirmed the Delta Flyer Project was finally finished. She would be leaving for Utopia Planitia very soon. Tom, B'Elanna and Miral were going there, too. Tom was assigned as chief test pilot for the new prototype. Harry would be up there for a while, too, but after final approval for building them came, he'd return to Earth to initiate the production of the Flyer series. Once that was running smoothly, if Voyager still wasn't flying again, Harry would request a transfer. With his new rank of lieutenant commander, Harry's next post would likely be on a much bigger starship than Voyager.

And after that -- well, who knew? The Voyager team was breaking up. Icheb would miss them, but then, he was moving on, too. Professor Reagan had informed Icheb he'd been tabbed to head an Astrometrics field unit on his training cruise, which was scheduled to take place this summer. Icheb was lucky so many friends had been near him for this long. He had to become accustomed to saying "good-bye" to them, even though he would make new ones when he moved on to another post himself. That was life in Starfleet, the career path he'd chosen to follow.

=/\=

Chapter Text

=/\=

Stardate 56036.9  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

I was called into the superintendent's office early this morning. He told me my training mission has been moved up. I'm to pack my duffel and leave with a group of other cadets at 1300 hours for Spacedock. We're to be transported to our ship -- and it's Voyager! The superintendent noted that I'd already been named as the leader of an Astrometrics training group. Because of my experience on Voyager, it made sense for our unit to staff that ship.  Then he said, "Cadet, this is a practical mission. We need additional bodies to staff Voyager." And then he explained what this was all about.

A rift is forming in space in an area between Vulcan and Earth. A convoy of ships will travel to the area to guard against whatever might come through it. He handed me a PADD with long range sensor telemetry. It wasn't a transwarp conduit aperture, and because of my experience in Astrometrics when the admiral came through, I knew it wasn't a temporal rift, either. And then I realized what it must be. "Fluidic Space?" I asked the superintendent, hoping I was wrong. He told me that's what it looked like to Professor Reagan and his colleagues, too.

When he informed me that Captain Janeway and her senior staff would be manning Voyager, I felt a little better. They've had experience inside Fluidic Space. I couldn't be assigned to a better place, and I knew it. I didn't say this to the superintendent, however. As I was about to leave, he told me the names of the cadets in the group I was to supervise were on the PADD, too. I quickly checked the list. At first I didn't see many names I recognized, but then I saw Verit's. She appeared to be the only Xenobiology major included. I asked the superintendent if that was deliberate.

"It is, Cadet Hansen. Many of Voyager's original Science Department staff are still available in Sector 001 and will serve on Voyager. Although Cadet Verit specializes in Xenobiology, she possesses excellent credentials in Astrometrics, too, as I'm sure you're aware. Just as vital in this situation, you know her well and know you can trust her. When I suggested to Starfleet Personnel we add her to your unit and provided my rationale, they agreed, even though both of you are still in your junior year. Most of the other cadets are senior Engineering majors. A few are majoring in Astrometrics, but you possess practical experience the others lack. We're putting you in charge. We believe you'll be up to the task."

I thanked him for his confidence in me. He told me that by this time, the other cadets had been contacted by their advisors and were packing to join me. He dismissed me, and I rushed off to Archer Hall to pack my own duffel.

Farys and Austin were upset they weren't going with us. Word hasn't gotten around yet about the real reason our "training cruise" has been pushed forward so abruptly. Verit nodded slightly in approval when I told them we didn't have time to explain now, but I was sure they'd learn all about it before we got back. When they heard me say that, I think they got the message this isn't a normal training mission.

There are twenty of us. While I'm nominally the leader of the cadets, my true leadership role will be in Astrometrics. The engineers were called in to supplement Commander Torres' staff. She has more vacancies than anyone else, since more of her staff took positions on other ships. Some, like Freddie Bristow, had decided to resign their commissions to find work in the civilian arena. We've been waiting for a long time for Voyager to relaunch.

The ironic thing is, Freddie's here on board. In the zoo that was Spacedock, I saw him standing with -- of all people -- Marla Gilmore and Mortimer Herron. Mortimer was on vacation from his dream job on Orion One. His leave was cancelled, and he was sent up to Voyager to serve with us. Marla was even more of a surprise. I'll have to speak with Marla later to find out how she managed to be here. I didn't have time then because we were placed on different transports bound for Utopia Planitia. Voyager was waiting for us there.

=/\=

Stardate 56041.2  Personal Log Entry, Cadet Icheb Hansen

It's been difficult keeping up with my personal log. We're very busy with drills of all kinds. The refit changed some ways the ship is controlled or handled, but after the first few practice runs, I was able to get a good feel for the changes. I figured out how most of Astrometrics worked on my own, even before Seven came in and gave me and my staff a quick lesson on how to work all the equipment.

It feels very funny to call my fellow cadets "my staff," but I'm in charge of the ones who work in Astrometrics or Stellar Cartography more than I expected. Megan Delaney, who's now a full lieutenant, is in charge of Stellar Cartography, so that's good. Jenny isn't on board. She's on Deep Space Nine, interviewing for a position on that station. If we survive whatever happens here, I think she'll be annoyed she wasn't with her twin. Seven is the head of Astrometrics, of course, but I'm second in command, even over any regular crew who might serve here. Seven believes the captain will want her at her bridge station once we arrive at the rift's location, so I'll be in charge of the Astrometrics lab then. I know more about how everything works than anyone other than Seven or Harry. He'll be on the bridge at the rift, too.

I wish I hadn't put, "if we survive," in my log, even though it's true. We have no doubt now we're dealing with a rift between our space and the realm of Species 8472. I've held a couple of meetings in the mess hall, familiarizing the cadet crew with Fluidic Space and its people. Most of what I know comes from the logs, since Voyager's contacts all predate my arrival on the ship, but I've had more time than the others to study the species. Commander Tuvok assigned me to study our encounters with them when he was tutoring me. None of the others had such access.

Commander Tuvok has been living on Vulcan. He's traveling on another ship and will meet us at the rift. Until he arrives, Lieutenant Ayala is heading Security and Tactical. Admiral Paris is with us on Voyager. Sam Wildman and Gres are both here, too, but Naomi remained behind with Mrs. Paris and Miral. Tom and B'Elanna are here. While Mrs. Paris is used to having her husband and son go off into space, caring for Miral and Naomi is a new experience. Tom told me, in private, that she's very worried about all of us, "but she knows it's our duty." Naomi begged to be allowed to come, but her parents told her very firmly they wouldn't allow it. Naomi eventually realized that accepting her parent's edict would be a sign of her maturity when her application to the Academy was submitted this spring. She wants to enroll this September. I certainly hope that can still happen. A lot will depend upon how this encounter turns out.

I finally caught up with Marla a couple of days ago in the mess hall with Noah Lessing! When they were called up, they were shocked to learn their post-resignation "benefits" from Starfleet included reserve duty for the next three years. Marla told me it's a good sign for them. It means Starfleet Personnel didn't know about the forced aspect of their resignations. The secret of the Equinox must be holding. Admiral Paris himself contacted them and told them, under the circumstances, they didn't have to serve. Marla and Noah both told him they wanted to be here with their crewmates. Marla's sister's family is caring for Aimee.

At this point, we're all as ready as we can expect to be after a shakedown cruise of such short duration. Fortunately, the rift is opening very slowly. According to Tom, when they went into Fluidic Space years ago, when Seven first came as a Borg to Voyager, the rifts opened more quickly. However, they didn't have to be that big for one ship to slip through. As this one grows, we're wondering how big the ship or ships will be when they finally emerge.

Just in case, I prepared a "last message" for Mezoti, and one for Seven, too, even though she's on Voyager. It's possible she could survive even if I don't. The message for Mezoti was sent back to Earth to be sent through the datastream if anything happens to me. I wanted her to know that whatever happens to us here, "I treasure my little sister. I've always missed you, Five of Six. I'm very glad I got the chance to know you. Be happy in whatever you do." It goes without saying I hope there's never a need for Commander Harkins to send it to her (even though I just did).

He'd be the one to transmit it, because Lieutenant Commander Barclay is on Voyager with us. I think he's the only one here who's truly delighted to be serving during this crisis. His fondest wish has been granted: Lieutenant Commander Reginald Barclay, serving under Captain Kathryn Janeway on Voyager -- just "one of the guys."

=/\=

The signs were there. Every instrument monitoring the Rift told Seven and Icheb the same thing. Several ships were approaching, on course to emerge into what was now being called Dry Space by everyone in the convoy.

A few seconds after Verit stepped into Astrometrics to serve her morning shift, Captain Janeway called Seven to the bridge. Icheb nodded to his adoptive mother as she walked out of the lab. The night before, the two had taken time to share experiences they'd never gotten around to telling each other before. While neither of them mentioned the words, "just in case we never get the chance again," that possibility loomed large in both of their minds.

Every nerve and residual Borg implant in Icheb's body virtually buzzed with anticipation as well as dread. The crisis would be resolved soon, one way or another. Icheb was glad that Verit would be serving here with him during this critical time. She always maintained a sense of calm under difficult conditions, and he was confident their stations would be manned efficiently. Verit worked well in tandem with Icheb, just as he always did when he backed up Seven.

The wait was agonizing, even though barely ten minutes elapsed before the first of the ships finally emerged. As each followed another, they formed a line in front of the Rift. "I count twelve ships, Icheb. They are bioships, are they not?" Verit asked.

"Yes. The organic lines are distinctive. The ships are composed of living tissue. I've seen images through my studies of Voyager's logs, but I also know them from my Borg memories. It's interesting. While I retain much of what was instilled in me during my time in the maturation chamber, there are gaps in my knowledge, facts I never learned during my short time in the chamber. The ability to recognize the bioships of Species 8472 is imprinted in my brain. The Borg Queen must have feared they would retaliate against the Collective at some point. Every drone had to realize who they were as soon as they appeared."

"Is it true your mother Annika told Captain Janeway they were invading our space?"

"The Borg Queen instructed her to say that, but the Borg attempted to assimilate their species because of its unique properties. When Species 8472 came into our space, their incursion was a counterattack. The Borg were the aggressors."

"From the manner in which the bioships have aligned themselves, they do not appear to be taking an aggressive stance towards our convoy," Verit observed.

"I agree," Icheb replied, in a surprised tone of voice. "They've left a large hole in the center of their formation, right in front of the rift. That's poor tactics if they mean to attack. It appears they're waiting for another ship or ships to arrive to fill in that gap."

Verit suggested, "Their ships are on picket duty, guarding the entrance to the Rift. That is to be expected, when you consider the Borg invaded their space, and that's the entrance to it."

Icheb nodded his head. He'd come to the same conclusion. "And we're doing the same thing, in a way, Verit. We're guarding our space from them."

"I trust they'll offer some sort of communication to our convoy before making any aggressive moves," Verit stated evenly, although Icheb could see she was gripping the side of her console so tightly, the fingers of her left hand twitched several times. The color of her skin had lightened noticeably from pressure, revealing the pale greenish undertone of Vulcan flesh.

"I trust. Perhaps I should say, I hope," Icheb replied, glancing over at his suitemate. She looked back at him and tipped her head ever so slightly, acknowledging that he'd expressed something she herself may be experiencing but would never state openly in front of anyone but Torin.

Icheb wondered if her husband knew about the events happening here. Were bioships appearing in other quadrants as well as this one? Was this, in fact, the beginning of an invasion? There was nothing more for the pair to do but wait as patiently as they knew how. And wonder.

=/\=

After enduring two hours of almost unbearable tension, Verit announced that three other ships appeared to be approaching the entrance into Dry Space.

"Yes, but they aren't bioships. At least the first two are not." Icheb sucked in his breath suddenly. "They're Borg spheres!"

Verit maintained her equanimity better than Icheb had. "The third is a bioship. Quite the largest we've seen. Does it appear to be in pursuit of the Borg vessels?"

The three ships burst out of the Rift simultaneously. The bioship, which was, indeed, larger by a factor of three than any of the other ships in line, smoothly pulled into the center of the gap left in the line of first arrivals. The two Borg spheres pulled alongside the large bioship, one on either side. While neither of the spheres could be considered small, they were far from the largest of their type. Icheb decided neither of them were bigger than the Borg Resistance ships reported by Neelix and Mezoti.

Icheb had maintained an open channel to the bridge, with the audio turned down to a very low volume. As Icheb had informed Verit, "I find it valuable to keep track of what is happening in this way, especially when the captain makes contact with another vessel." Widening the angle of the image along the side of their large screen, they could see the bridge's main viewscreen, with Tom's head just beneath it as he manned the helm. The cadets watched and listened as Harry announced the largest bioship was hailing Voyager.

The view of the bioships in front of the Rift split into thirds, revealing images of the beings manning each ship. The equivalent of the bioship bridge filled the center of the screen, while the views on each side revealed Borg interiors.

"Isn't that old Boothby, the Academy gardener?" Verit asked, pointing to a white-haired human figure in the exact center of the screen.

"Not the gardener himself, I'm sure. This must be his facsimile. Captain Janeway and Chakotay met him at a station where Species 8472 was training their people to infiltrate our quadrant. That took place before I came on board Voyager. Captain Chakotay met one of the beings on the station who was being trained for the task. She told him to call her Valerie Archer."

"That other male looks like Admiral Bulloch," Verit said. "The person on the left side of the viewscreen looks like a Klingon Borg."

"That's General Korok! I met him once. He visited Voyager after his sphere helped us rescue Captain Janeway, Commander Tuvok, and B'Elanna Torres. Mezoti said he visited the Borg recovering on Wysanti several months ago. I'm surprised he could travel here this quickly."

When the Klingon Borg image spoke, against all protocol, the person Korok addressed was not the captain. "Paris! It's good to see you again, and under better circumstances, I trust."

Icheb and Verit exchanged hasty glances with one another. "Better circumstances? That sounds positive, Icheb, does it not?" she said.

Icheb didn't get a chance to respond. He heard a gasp, then his mother murmuring a name: "Axum!" He turned his attention to the right side of the split screen. The person standing there was also formerly Borg. Icheb remembered him from anxious, often shadowy fragments of images Mezoti had transmitted to him during a time he was still capable of communicating subvocally, when his sister was upset by Seven's visits to Unimatrix Zero. Before he could answer Verit, the image spoke in the hissing, husky flutter of an improperly functioning vocal processor. Icheb knew those sounds well from when he'd had issues with his, when his Children's Collective first encountered Voyager. "Annika, it iss alsso good to ssee you oncse again."

The Boothby image interjected, "Well, now, that's a good start. We've found friends on the good ship Voyager. I hope the rest of the folks on your ships are just as willing to talk first before firing their weapons. We've come to visit. We have information you need to know to relay, and, I suspect, we have a fair amount of negotiating to do, too. Peace talks, I gather you call it?"

Verit slapped her palm against the side of her console. Icheb leaned forward and took several very deep breaths in rapid succession. Verit had once told him this was a good preliminary to initiate meditative techniques. Deep cleansing breaths were calming.

Peace. Not war. It was almost too good to be true.

But, as it turned out, it was true.

=/\=