VIRTUAL SEASON 7.5

episode 25

Ripples in Time

Ripples in Time

By Jamelia and Rocky

Teaser

"Science?" the captain asked.

Although her mouth suddenly seemed dry, Ensign Samantha Wildman managed to respond, "All readings normal, Captain," without actually croaking the words out like a bullfrog on a lilypad.

This was only the second time Sam had had the privilege of manning this station during the dozen previous slipstream jumps. She was nervously excited, yet thrilled and gratified for the opportunity. To experience moments like these, after all, was the reason she had become a Starfleet officer in the first place. Despite all that happened to her family and the crew of Voyager during the past eight years, she didn't regret her decision to become a part of this mission. This was her life.

As the captain continued checking in with each station before they began, Sam looked around the bridge one more time. Megan Delaney stood at the adjunct Astrometrics station behind the captain, monitoring the ship's position as she and Tom Paris finished plotting the course towards the stars of home. She caught Joe Carey's eye at engineering and exchanged an encouraging grin with him. Commander Chakotay was alert but calm from his seat to the captain's left. Tom, his hands making small, last-minute adjustments to the helm, spared a quick wink in her direction

Harry Kim was bouncing on the balls of his feet in barely-contained excitement. Finally, he said, "Boy, I can't wait to see Orion from my parents' back yard."

"Be patient, Harry," Chakotay said. "We've got five more jumps to go before you'll be doing that. A lot could happen before then."

"We are back in the Alpha Quadrant at least," Megan observed.

"Perhaps, but I'm with the Commander," Captain Janeway said. "Until we're in orbit around Earth, I'm not going to anticipate which constellations might be whirling about my head."

Commander Tuvok interrupted the conversation as he calmly relayed, "All departments report they are ready to begin, Captain."

All bantering stopped. It was time.

Captain Janeway ordered, "Take us into the slipstream, Mr. Paris."

Sam felt adrenaline rush through her body. If all went well--as it had every other time that Voyager had used the new slipstream drive--in just a mere 120 seconds from now, they would be several thousand light years closer to Earth.

While keeping a watchful eye on her instruments, Sam's eyes strayed to the main viewscreen several times, first as the slipstream 'tunnel' formed, and then at brief intervals to admire the sparkling web itself. This 'hole' in space was actually an optical illusion, formed as the light from the stars was simultaneously compressed, stretched, and woven together as Voyager literally slipped along the currents of space. The science wasn't precisely the same as that for transwarp conduits, but the effect was similar. They were falling through space, speeding towards Earth. Home.

Joe's periodic reports from the engineering station, "All drive systems stable," were reassuring. As they neared the two minute mark, Sam found herself breathing easier. Almost over now. Only four more jumps, and she might find herself wrapped in Gresgrendkrendrek's arms once again.

She apparently wasn't the only one feeling more relaxed. Harry said breezily, "You know, I can just about taste my mom's steamed dumplings now."

"Watch it, Harry," said Tom. "You don't want to jinx us, do you? I can still remember my heartburn after Neelix's last attempt at making your mom's dumpling reci--What was that?"

Sam had felt it, too, a distinct "bump," like a ground car's wheels jounced by a pothole in the road. She had the fleeting sensation that the ship was slipping sideways instead of straight forward, despite the compensation of the inertial dampers. She glanced up at the viewscreen and noticed a rippling effect in the side of the 'tunnel.' Quickly, she accessed her instruments and noted a disturbing energy spike blossoming.

Before she had a chance to open her mouth, however, the ship suddenly began to shake wildly. The slipstream tunnel on the viewscreen shattered into a thousand splinters of light. The stars of normal space momentarily become visible in the widening rifts. Then the viewscreen abruptly went blank.

"Naomi!" Sam cried out instinctively, holding frantically onto her console. But it was to no avail--the ship pitched like an ocean liner in a storm. Down turned into up, as they were thrown into total blackness. Even the emergency lights on the bridge were out.

ACT I

The dull red alert signal was the only illumination for several seconds, until the emergency lights flickered back on.

"Report!" Janeway called, as she watched the members of the bridge crew pick themselves up off the floor, dazed and shaken. Chakotay helped Sam Wildman to her feet, then rubbed his shoulder and winced as he scrambled back into his seat.

The captain jabbed at the panel next to her. No response. Communications were down. "Are we still in the slipstream?"

Paris ran his hands over the helm controls. "I can confirm we're not moving at all, if that's what you mean."

"We've definitely exited slipstream, Captain," Kim responded from Ops.

"'Definitely', Lieutenant? Have we got internal sensors?" Janeway said in disbelief.

"No, ma'am."

"Then how--"

"The last readings I had before the--whatever it was--indicated we were about to exit. I remember thinking it was a little too soon, that we should have stayed in for another few seconds." Kim shook his head. "But there's no way of knowing for sure."

"Not until we get some of these systems up," Chakotay agreed, pushing away his blank terminal in frustration. At the engineering station, Carey had gotten down on the floor and was working underneath his console.

"There was a spike in the energy readings," Sam reported. "I remember thinking it looked like we were falling sideways, if such a thing were possible."

"I had the same feeling," Megan said. "I've never seen anything like that before."

"Maybe some type of overload in the system," Janeway mused. She went over to the Tactical station. Tuvok appeared to be getting some readings, if his look of concentration was anything to go by. "Tuvok? Any idea of what happened? Did we hit something, or were we fired upon?"

"In slipstream?" Paris said incredulously, turning away from his nearly useless controls. "It's like riding a wave, arcing over normal space, while being carried along by the current. What's to hit?"

"There's a lot we don't know about slipstream," Chakotay reminded him curtly. "There may be 'rocks and shoals' concealed in the current that we aren't aware of."

"I concur," Tuvok said. "It does appear that we were 'thrown out' of the slipstream, prematurely or otherwise. Though it is highly unlikely we encountered any physical obstacles, or that we were fired upon. In the latter event, we would have detected the presence of another ship within the slipstream." His habitual frown deepened as his console flickered slightly. "Our current status, Captain, is that weapons and shields are down."

"Consistent with the 'normal' situation upon leaving slipstream?" the captain said, though she already knew the answer.

Tuvok said it anyway. "It is impossible to answer that without bringing some of the major systems back online first."

Janeway's lips tightened. "Any word yet from Engineering?"

"Negative, Captain."

Within a few minutes however, communications began to be restored--sporadically. Janeway's expression didn't change as she heard the recital of damage sustained. Times like this she wondered if it wouldn't be simpler to just state what *was* operable.

"So it's back to frantic repair mode, while we remain blind and almost toothless," Chakotay said softly .

Janeway returned to her seat, and pushed an errant lock of hair out of her face. "Our first priority is getting those shields up."

"Not the sensors, Captain?" Chakotay said in surprise.

"I'd rather be safe until I'm able to look at my surroundings and see that they're benign after all," Janeway retorted. She punched her communication panel. "Engineering!"

"Torres here," came the static-filled response at last.

"B'Elanna, what happened?"

"The drive was going fine," the chief engineer said. Despite the bad connection, her exasperation came through loud and clear. "Then some sort of 'hiccup' occurred."

"What do you mean by that?" Janeway asked.

"I can't really explain it," B'Elanna said. "All we know at this moment is that something must have happened to cause the slipstream 'wave' to begin to fold."

"So we did exit prematurely," Janeway said. She glanced up at Harry, then at the engineering station where Carey was emerging from under the console. "Lieutenant Carey, do you concur?"

"Yes, ma'am," Carey said, getting to his feet. He was their resident expert on slipstream, or the closest they had to one. "There's no question about that. We weren't due to exit into normal space for another 1.7 seconds." He exhaled sharply. "The question is why. We've done this a dozen times already and this never happened before."

"Unfortunately, past successes are no guarantee of future ones," Janeway said grimly. "Let's see if we can come up with some answers."

"Right after we get shields, sensors, weapons, life support and propulsion," put in Chakotay. He nodded to Carey, who promptly headed for the turbolift. He could do more for them in Engineering than on the bridge.

"Life support is up now, Captain, and you should have thrusters as well," B'Elanna said over the comm.

"Warp drive?" Janeway asked, though she hardly dared hope.

"We won't be going anywhere in a hurry, Captain," B'Elanna confirmed. "We're still venting plasma, a result of having blown out half a dozen of the EPS relays. I should be able to get you half impulse shortly. Maybe in another ten minutes or so."

"All right. Do what you can, B'Elanna. But get those shields up ASAP." Unable to remain seated, Janeway walked over to the main viewscreen and stared at the dull opaque surface, as if she could will it to life.

She didn't know how long she stood there before she heard the welcome report, "Sensors and shields online, Captain."

"It's about time--" Janeway began and then she stumbled as the ship shuddered. "What the hell was that?"

"A phaser blast," Tuvok responded. "A direct hit to the aft section of the ship, and a glancing hit portside. Possible hull breach on deck 8."

"A breach? You said shields were online!"

"The aft shields were not at full strength to begin with and collapsed almost immediately," Tuvok said. "However, we still have functioning shields in the front part of the ship." The ship shuddered again, though not as strongly as before.

Janeway reacted immediately. "Helm! Come about!" She glanced at the main viewscreen. It was still blank. She swore under her breath, as she started for the upper level of the bridge. "Mr. Kim, I need to see what's going on."

"I'm on it, Captain," Harry said, working frantically. "Hold on..."

"Are we being targeted?" Chakotay asked. A logical question, as any enemy deliberately firing at them would doubtless be able to pinpoint the weaknesses of their shields and wreak more damage.

"Negative," Tuvok replied. "I do not believe these shots are specifically aimed at us." The main viewscreen abruptly activated, revealing a ship roughly the size of Voyager, being pursued by three smaller vessels. Raiders, perhaps. "We appear to have stumbled into the midst of some sort of battle."

"Tom, back us away from there, keeping our shielded areas facing forward," Janeway ordered. Even as she spoke, twin phaser blasts lanced out from the raider closest to their quarry.

Tuvok said, "The larger vessel does not appear to be well armed. Her shields are weakening."

"I'm picking up a distress call, Captain," Harry reported.

"Let's hear it," Janeway said.

"To all Caephidian vessels--this is the Batina. We are under attack and require assistance. Our situation is grave. Please help us! We have women and children on board--" The message was cut off abruptly.

"Their systems are failing," Tuvok said.

Janeway bit her lip. At first glance, the Batina and her attackers were of an unfamiliar design. As always upon emerging from slipstream, they didn't know anything about the region of space they found themselves in, or the situation unfolding before them. But considering they had crossed over into the Alpha Quadrant on an earlier 'jump', it wasn't outside the realm of possibility that Starfleet vessels had penetrated this far.

"Harry, can you tell me anything about them, any identifying characteristics about these people? Anything match with what's in our data banks?"

"Sorry, Captain, their hull plating is too dense to get much detail, at least with our sensors at less than optimal strength. I'm reading approximately eighty life signs--they appear to be a reptilian species. But that's it."

Janeway nodded absently, her mind on the next part of the equation. Aside from the glancing shots earlier, the raiders seemed to be ignoring Voyager. For now. "Weapons status, Mr. Tuvok?"

"Phasers are still off line, but the photon torpedoes are operational."

"Better than nothing," Chakotay said.

"It'll do," Janeway agreed, "though I'd rather not get involved unless we have to--"

Her words were cut off when one of the raiders wheeled about and let off a volley in their direction. "They're not taking any chances that we're going to remain neutral," Chakotay noted.

"Doesn't look that way," the captain said. "Mr. Kim, open a channel. Alien vessel, this is the Federation starship Voyager. We are not a party to your dispute--" The raider fired at them once more.

"That went over well," muttered Paris from the helm, as he tried to keep the shielded sections of the ship facing the enemy.

Janeway didn't waste a glance in his direction. She leaned forward, her eyes intent on the screen. With weakened shields, waiting was not an option. "Mr. Tuvok, target the ship that's firing on us."

"Aye, Captain." Tuvok looked up. "Direct hit. And it appears to have done a considerable amount of damage."

It was with a certain amount of satisfaction that Janeway watched the other two raiders break off their attack and flee. But her satisfaction was tempered by the sight of the first raider firing at them again. "Tuvok--"

A second torpedo arced out toward the raider. Janeway watched its progress. Suddenly, a brilliant flash lit up the screen. The raider was gone; a few bits of debris floated in space where it had been.

Chakotay was on his feet. "Did our torpedo do that?"

"Negative," replied Tuvok. "The raider exploded before our torpedo reached it."

"A warp core breach caused by earlier damage?" Janeway wondered.

"Either that, or perhaps the Batina was not as defenseless as we believed," Tuvok said. He added, "We should know shortly. The Caephidian vessel is hailing us."

***

"This is Captain Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. To whom am I speaking?"

The Caephidian captain was female. Her reptilian heritage was clearly evident by the prominent skull ridge which rose upward and back from her forehead, as well as the narrow gold-colored eyes which appeared to have a faint film overlaid on their surface. She was clad in a close-fitting dark green uniform, and her skin, covered with fine scales, was of a single pale tone. "I am the Master of the ship Batina, conveyance of the Matriarch and the Royal Kin. I wish to thank you for your assistance in battle. We did not expect such actions from strangers." She paused. "Pardon my intrusiveness, but I am not familiar with your Federation."

"We picked up your distress signal, Master..." Janeway said, her voice trailing off just enough to indicate she was waiting for a name to be supplied. When none was forthcoming, however, she went on, "You are correct--we are strangers in your region of space, and do not know anything about your conflict, but your vessel was under attack, and you said that there were women and children present."

"The Matriarch herself is on board." The Master turned away abruptly to confer with one of her officers, also female.

Janeway murmured to Chakotay, "Notice she hasn't told us her name, or the name of her leader."

"Maybe we're supposed to know who the Matriarch is without asking, as she's clearly the most important figure in this area of space," suggested Chakotay. "Or perhaps the Caephidians attach a great deal of ceremonial importance to the exchange of names, and rely on the use of titles when dealing with outsiders. There's ample precedent for this among other cultures we've encountered."

"Then they're probably shocked I've been so free and easy with volunteering my own name," Janeway said.

"Could be," he whispered, then subsided as the Caephidian turned her attention to them again. She appeared to be somewhat flustered. Behind her, the activity level had increased and shouts could be heard.

"Once more, I thank you, Captain of Voyager. Under other circumstances, the Matriarch would have wished to greet you personally as well, but at present we are experiencing some difficulties on board our vessel, which I regret demand my full attention."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Janeway asked. The Caephidians did appear to be under a great deal of stress.

"It's nothing serious," the Caephidian said, although her expression belied her words. "During the battle we sustained damage to one of the main power generators in the Ovarium, and there is concern that some of the young may have been injured."

"Are you still experiencing power fluctuations?" Janeway asked.

"Yes, we are," admitted the Master.

Janeway glanced at her bridge crew. "If you wish, I can send over an away team to assist."

"We would not want to impose," began the Caephidian. She stopped and held a whispered conference with another officer. "Thank you, that would be most kind of you. Our Matriarch looks forward to thanking you as well."

Janeway turned to Chakotay after the transmission ended. "Commander, put together an away team, some engineers as well as medical personnel."

"Aye, Captain."

"I'll be leading this one myself," she said, and caught his immediate look of disapproval.

"Do you think that's wise, Captain?"

"This is a First Contact situation, Commander," she reminded him. "I also got the distinct impression that the Caephidian Matriarch is particularly eager to speak with me." His expression didn't change. "There will be security along, of course." She leaned forward and continued in a lower voice, "And if it will make you feel better, you can come along as well to make sure I stay out of trouble."

He rolled his eyes but made no further comment.

Janeway stood and glanced around the bridge, mentally gauging the rate of repairs. "Well, as soon as the transporters are back on line--"

"Captain!" Kim was staring at his console, his face suddenly ashen.

"What is it?" she asked, concerned.

"As more of the systems have come back up, I've been able to pinpoint our position." He took a deep breath. "From these readings, it looks like a lot more went wrong with the last jump than just getting thrown out of the slipstream prematurely."

The captain waited, steeling herself for the bad news she knew was coming. "Go on, Harry."

"We're back in the Delta Quadrant, Captain."

***

Voyager's away team materialized in the Caephidian transporter chamber. Janeway looked around warily, careful to hold her arms in a non-threatening pose. Three Caephidians stood facing them, but none of them made any move to speak. Janeway waited, her thoughts automatically going back to her own ship and the frantic spurt of activity that had been touched off by the news that they had somehow gone off course in the last slipstream jump. She shook her head slightly, forcing herself to concentrate on the First Contact situation she and her crew found themselves in now.

Finally, one of the Caephidians stepped forward. Janeway was fairly certain this was the Batina's captain, or rather 'Master', who had spoken to them earlier. "Thank you for coming to our aid, Captain."

"We're happy to do what we can, Master . . ." Janeway paused, to allow the Caephidian to identify herself in any way. Perhaps in person the aliens would be a little less guarded. The Master did not answer immediately, however; the wait was long enough for Janeway to wonder if she had offended her. "I'm sorry, but would I be transgressing the customs of your people if I were to ask your name?"

"My given name is Crolay," the Master said, a little hesitantly.

"I am Kathryn Janeway."

"Yes, so you stated when we first hailed your vessel." Crolay inclined her head, as if in thought. "I believe our customs are somewhat different, as I seldom need to use my name at my current rank, except when I meet with masters of other vessels." She added hastily, "And you are clearly the Master of Voyager, so it is entirely proper for us to make use of the other's name. Your people freely use names regardless of rank, I assume."

"Yes, that is true, but we often use ranks or titles instead of names." Janeway gestured to the other members of the away team. "Let me introduce you to my staff by all three, so you may use either, according to your preferences. This is my first officer, Commander Chakotay; my chief engineer, Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres; Lieutenant Susan Nicoletti of our engineering staff; Lieutenant Thomas Paris, our chief helmsman, who is here in his other capacity as primary field medic; Lieutenant Michael Ayala, our assistant chief of security; and Crewman Mark Gennaro, also part of our security department. Lieutenant Paris, Lieutenant Ayala and Crewman Gennaro all have a great deal of experience assisting in ship's systems, however, and they are available to assist your engineering staff as well."

Chakotay stepped forward with his hand held out in greeting, and was met with a stunned silence.

Crolay looked away as if embarrassed. "I'm sure they are quite talented in their own way, Captain, but I'm sure your primary engineering staff is more than sufficient. Please, Chief Engineer, Engineer, will you follow my Master Engineer . . . Hesaway . . . She will lead you to our power generation systems."

The Master Engineer nodded stiffly and gestured with her arm for B'Elanna and Susan to follow. Her voice was somewhat higher pitched than the master's. "We are working on our main power supply and have that well in hand. The junctions to the Ovarium were destroyed, however. We have temporarily stabilized the nesting cylinders by providing them with an emergency energy nodule, Chief Engineer, but we need to reconstruct the main system to the Ovarium before the emergency power runs out. We don't have much time, and we lack the necessary parts to repair the system before we can get help from other ships in this area. Most do not carry what we need."

"We know all about scrounging for parts! Let me see what you need. We may be able to replicate some of the equipment on our ship . . ." B'Elanna and Susan Nicoletti followed the Caephidian Master Engineer through a tall, narrow door that resembled a porthole.

As the voices of the engineers faded away, the Caephidian Master said, "Please, Captain, come with me. Our Matriarch wishes to meet with you personally, to thank you for your assistance. "

"Are you sure you don't want any help from my other staff? My field medic, Tom Paris, could scan your eggs to make sure none have been damaged in any way. He . . ."

The Caephidian Master tittered, in what Janeway took to be laughter. "There is no need for that, Captain. You may bring your males with you as your guard of honor, of course. It is only your due."

Janeway looked guiltily at her "males." She hadn't brought them along as some sort of status symbol! Chakotay's lips were tight together and his jaw was set, eyes staring straight ahead, in the expression he had whenever he was extremely unhappy about developments. Ayala and Gennaro were alert but unsmiling, with the classic "security guard" mask on their faces. The only one who seemed to think it was at all amusing was Tom, who raised one eyebrow in a manner most reminiscent of Tuvok but with a most un-Vulcan crooked grin across his face.

***

Initially Tom was alert, as he always was in a First Contact situation. The Caephidians seemed genuinely eager for their help. Once B'Elanna and Sue had left to assist in engineering, the rest of the away team was taken to meet the Matriarch. Tom wanted to help the Caephidians more directly, but if they wanted him to be a member of Janeway's "male" honor guard, then he would be satisfied with that role. He wasn't particularly fond of diplomatic missions, but he could do them if he had to.

They followed Caephidian Master, who was apparently the captain of the Batina and equivalent to Janeway in rank, through a series of passageways. The Caephidian's technology seemed fairly advanced. Once, the Caephidian stopped the group before a doorway and bowed deeply and reverently before taking them into the chamber. The area looked much like one of Voyager's cargo bays, down to the containers it held; however, the temperature and humidity levels were significantly higher than they had been elsewhere on the vessel. Tom looked more closely as they passed through and realized that the containers looked like stasis chambers, each containing one large ovoid. This must be the Ovarium, with Caephidian eggs in incubators--a reasonable development for an advanced, space-traveling race that reproduced by laying eggs, Tom thought. It freed the mothers from having to sit on a nest during the gestation period. He'd never really thought much about how such things were done before, but now that he was a father, he found the subject interested him.

It also helped Tom relax. 'No way they're going to attack us when they've got their kids around here,' Tom thought. 'Not when B'Elanna and Sue are helping repair their incubators.' He'd felt, from the beginning, that the Caephidians were exactly what they had said they were--a group of females and their offspring, and no threat to Voyager's crew. Now he was sure of it.

Tom itched to use his medical tricorder and get some basic metabolic data about the Caephidians. Over the years Voyager had come across surprisingly few reptilian-like species, and he couldn't help wondering if they were somehow related to the Voth. There was a basic physical similarity at first glance, though the Capehidian epidermis was covered with much finer scales, all of a single pale tone. But it would be bad form to do anything of that sort before receiving permission. Chakotay had spent quite a bit of time with the Voth, he remembered now, with that scientist--Gegen was his name. He wondered if Gegen had told Chakotay much about the Voth and their methods of reproduction. Somehow he'd never had the chance to find out. He made a mental note to ask Chakotay later, or better yet, ask B'Elanna if she could find out for him.

Yes, that was a much better plan, he decided. While Tom was getting along with Chakotay much better lately, B'Elanna was still much closer to the first officer. And besides, whenever Tom brought up the subject of reproduction with his wife, somehow they seemed to find a way to experience a little activity related to reproduction themselves afterwards. He smiled a little to himself at the thought.

And that was why Tom was smirking noticeably as their group moved around a bank of equipment and encountered a regally-dressed figure, standing in an alcove, and obviously waiting for them.

"Our Matriarch, and Keeper of the Life Force of the Caephidian People," the Master intoned, and dropped to one knee. Janeway and the rest of the crew immediately followed suit. "This is the Captain of Voyager."

Janeway rose gracefully and made a slight bow. "I am honored, Matriarch."

"The honor is ours, Captain," the Matriarch said. Her voice was low and husky and carried an unmistakable ring of authority. No attempt was made at introducing the Voyager males, and indeed it appeared as though the Matriarch did not even notice them. However, before drawing the captain to one side so they might continue their conversation in relative privacy, the Matriarch's eyes rested unblinkingly on Tom for a moment.

'Great, Paris. A wonderful first impression, once again,' he mused dejectedly.

It took him several minutes to realize that Chakotay, Ayala, and Gennaro were also being totally ignored by everyone except two towering figures standing on either side of the alcove. They carried wicked-looking blades on staffs that were even taller than they were. They were in full body armor; even their faces were almost completely hidden by their helmets. A single long narrow slit bisected the face place, through which only a hint of the eyes could be seen. But Tom was sure that they were staring at him.

He felt much less relaxed after that.

***

"All right, I think we're ready to test it," B'Elanna said, with one more turn of her hyperspanner.

"Yes, Chief Engineer. I believe we are," the Master Engineer agreed. She stepped to a nearby control panel, which lit up at the first touch of her digits. B'Elanna felt, rather than heard, the faint hum of power returning to the console. Ten sets of eyes--one Klingon/human, one human, and eight Caephidian--turned to the readout screen above the console which had been identified as the Ovarium's main control panel. "Shutting off emergency energy nodules." The indicator arrows for the ten occupied cylinders descended. "Reconnecting main power to the Ovarium cylinders."

All ten arrows began a steady rise, stopping well within the strip which marked acceptable tolerances. The Caephidians murmured in approval. B'Elanna said, "Yes!" and gave a thumbs up sign to Nicoletti.

The Master Engineer's reaction was not one of relief but of intent study of the readouts. Finally, she reacted, heaving out a deep breath in what must surely be a big sigh of relief. "Yes, we have been successful. Your 'jury-rigging' seems to be working well, Chief Engineer, Assistant Engineer. We cannot express how much this means to us. Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Hesaway . . . I mean, Master Engineer . . . "

The Caephidian bobbed her head in what B'Elanna was beginning to think was a way of showing amusement. "You may call me by name, if I may call you by yours . . . B'Elanna Torress."

"Of course you may!" B'Elanna replied gratefully, sensing that she had been given a gift by the Caephidian Master Engineer. "We've had lots of practice with jury-rigging the past eight years."

"Have you? What is the significance of the past eight years?"

"Eight years ago, we were transported from one side of the galaxy to the other. We've been trying to get home ever since."

"Ah, I see! That must have been very difficult for you."

"Yes, it has, although it's had its compensations," B'Elanna said, gathering up the last of her tools and placing them in her work bag.

Sue chuckled. "I'll say. It took you and Tom almost seven years to finally get together when we were taking bets about it only a few months after we got here!"

" 'Get together?' " Hesaway asked.

"Get married. Mated. However you want to call it. Lieutenant Paris, the field medic who came over here with us, is my mate." B'Elanna and Sue waved their farewells to the Caephidian engineering crew as they followed the Master Engineer out of engineering.

"Ah. Now I see! Parress. Torress. With your people, the mate takes the ending of the female's name, instead of the beginning, as it is for us" Hesaway indicated the passageway they were to take and added, "So that is why Chakotay and Janeway are named as they are."

B'Elanna and Sue both laughed at that. "Not quite. Torres and Paris are our original names. We gave our daughter the name Miral Torres Paris, though, so her full name has both of ours. And Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay . . ." B'Elanna hesitated. How could she explain their relationship in terms

the Caephidians would understand? She decided to change the subject. "So you have a mate, Hesaway? And his name begins the way yours does?"

"Yes . . . it did." The master engineer stopped walking for a moment and bowed her head. "My mate Hesavek is dead. He was part of Tirgan's war crew. Tirgan was our Matriarch's Consort. His trusted Second turned upon them and destroyed their vessel." She began to walk again, almost spitting out her next words. "Nareb! That traitor! He's the one who attacked us, too; we're all sure of it! May he become the hunted one, slain for his treachery by our loyal warriors!"

B'Elanna grimaced. Politics and dead mates. Terrible way to change the subject.

Hesaway apparently did not notice, however. "That was why the Batina was called back to the Homeworld. We had planned to remain on our holiday until after the babies are hatched, but it no longer seemed to be safe to be away. Almost all of the young ones in the Ovarium are related to our Matriarch. One of them is hers, in fact. We are all hoping she has a daughter this time, since she has lost Tirgan. And one of the eggs is mine--my first."

"I'm very glad your child is safe, Hesaway. Especially under the circumstances. When will your baby be born . . . hatched . . . ?"

"My child should emerge from her shell about twenty minim from now. It has been such a long wait!" The Caephidian raised her head and became more erect as she spoke of her child.

"How long has it been?" B'Elanna asked, sensing that Hesaway was struggling with a powerful emotion, either fear or pride or--anticipation.

"Half a kodesh." The Universal Translator indicated that a kodesh was roughly equivalent to a Terran year.

"That short! I wish my Miral had decided to be born in half a year!" B'Elanna exclaimed. Sue clapped her hand on B'Elanna's shoulder sympathetically as the chief engineer groaned, "I carried Miral for a full nine months."

"And inside your body, too?" asked Hesaway. At B'Elanna's nod, she said, "How uncomfortable that must be! I carried my egg inside me for 30 minim, but it seemed to be forever!"

"Seemed like forever to me, too!" B'Elanna said. "But now she's here, and speaking of that, I need to get back to her."

"Of course. Here we are now, at the Ovarium. The Matriarch should still be here. There she is. First, though, look in this cylinder. Here is my daughter."

Despite the importance of the personage awaiting them, B'Elanna and Sue both took the hint and cooed over the egg--so perfectly shaped! One of the most beautiful eggs they had ever seen, and would undoubtedly produce an exceptional Caephidian child . . . one of the most perfect ever born.

***

Tom was extremely glad to see his wife looking so cheerful when the away team gathered together again, and even happier since her reappearance meant they would be returning to Voyager. Aside from the fact that there was plenty for all of them to do back on their own ship, it had been a waste of time, not to mention an uncomfortable two hours, standing around as the captain's "honor guard" while she chatted with the Matriarch and the Master of the Vessel. Or should that be Mistress of the Vessel? Tom wondered if the Universal Translator had a glitch in it. Whatever. His shift should be long over by the time they got back, and Tom would be glad to get home to his little girl.

But first, the requisite diplomatic send off. Tom straightened up, brightening only when B'Elanna stepped next to him and gave him a surreptitious touch of the hand in greeting. At least she seemed to have had a productive time! The Master/Mistress Engineer was reporting to the Matriarch and the Master/Mistress of the vessel that the eggs in the Ovarium were all safe. The Batina was repaired well enough to get back home. Mission accomplished . . . now, to get back to Voyager, figure out what went wrong with the slipstream to put them so far off course, and get back to . . .

"Captain Janeway, the Ovarium is again functioning as it should, thanks to your invaluable assistance. We cannot fully express how grateful we are for all you have done, but please, let us make a token gesture. Once we arrive at our Homeworld, we shall hold a Feast of Gratitude for our deliverance. Please accept our invitation to attend."

"We would not wish to impose, Matriarch," Janeway said, clearly trying to find a polite way to refuse. "We really must resume our journey, particularly as we have recently deviated from our course."

"Perhaps my own staff can provide you with assistance on that endeavor. Please, Captain. Grant us this favor, as one mother to another."

Tom shot an interested look at the captain. Mother? Were the Caephidians under the impression that they were all Janeway's children?

"Well," the captain hesitated, then acquiesced. "Perhaps that would be a good idea after all, especially if we can replenish some supplies. My senior staff and I would be honored to attend your 'Feast of Gratitude.'"

"Good. We will expect you, your chief engineer, . . . and do you have other mothers on board your ship we could also honor at our feast?"

"Yes, one of our scientists is a mother as well," Janeway said. "She has a daughter who is already training to become an officer."

"Excellent."

"Guess I've got baby sitting duty that night," Tom offered, seeing the sour face B'Elanna pulled at the unwelcome news she could expect to be torn away from her engines again--and for a diplomatic function of all things.

"Guess you're right about that, Flyboy," B'Elanna said ruefully.

Tom looked up and saw the Caephidians staring at him, probably that he'd had the effrontery to talk in front of the Matriarch. He began to sweat.

"Babysitting?" the Master Engineer said, turning to B'Elanna.

"Child care," B'Elanna said. "Since I will be at the feast, my mate will stay with our daughter." Something compelled her to add, "He often helps take care of her--in fact, he's really wonderful with her."

The Caephidians all tittered, but the Matriarch addressed Captain Janeway again. "Ah, just as you explained to me how your first mate stayed behind to care for your daughter Molly when your current mission began, as she was with child."

'The Captain's daughter?' Tom almost blurted out. 'Molly? Say, wasn't that the name of the captain's dog--' With a major effort he clamped his jaws together and resolved not to say a word until he was safely back on board Voyager. He didn't dare look at Chakotay or anyone else.

The Matriarch was speaking once more. "Well, this has been a most interesting meeting. I look forward to the Feast, Captain. We will have much to discuss."

Tom was never so glad to see an away team mission end in his entire life.

***

"The Voyagers have departed, your Majesty." Hesaway bowed low as she rejoined the Matriarch and her superior, the Master of the Batina, who were still in the alcove off the Ovarium, conversing in low tones. "Their transport technology appears quite sophisticated."

"More advanced than our own technology?" the Master asked.

"No, I would not say that, but they seem quite advanced and resourceful. B'Elanna . . . their chief engineer . . . told me they have been cut off from their home planet for eight years and have had to 'make do,' as she said, to repair their ship with what they can find."

The Matriarch nodded. "Their Captain Janeway told me that, too. They are not at all like the typical mammalian species. Their males care for infants! Amazing!"

"Perhaps not all of them do. This Parress may be unusual," the Batina's Master said.

"Not according to Captain Janeway," the Matriarch observed. "Their males often participate in the rearing of the young, even daughters, unlike our own. Many devote their lives to science, medicine, and government. Obviously, they are less interested in following the ways of war or the hunt than in being productive members of society. Not that I would want them to come to a banquet, or run the government in any way but as its defenders!"

"Do you think we can trust them?" the Master asked.

"More than we can Nareb!" Hesaway retorted sharply.

"Yes, I do think we can trust them--to a point. We need to know more about them before we can be sure of it, however."

"Matriarch, shall we send a message to the Homeworld? We could ask all who are within reach of our Communications Network what they know of these people. Surely they passed some of our vessels on their path here," the Master suggested.

Before the Matriarch could reply, however, a small figure ran out of the corridor and hurled itself in her direction. A much taller being thundered into the alcove in hot pursuit, but was unable to stop the smaller one from slamming into the Matriarch.

"I'm so sorry, my lady," the woman gasped. "I couldn't keep him away any longer!"

Tirgana, Matriarch of the Caephidians and Keeper of the Life Force, wrapped the small one into her arms. "It's all right, Nepay. I didn't want to be away from him any longer, either." Turning her attention to her son, she spoke more sternly, "Nan! You are very naughty to make your tutor so out of breath from running after you like that."

"I wanted to see the mammals! I can *smell* them, Mama. Are they still here?"

The adults tittered. "No, Nan, they have gone back to their ship," Tirgana said with a slightly admonishing shake of her head.

"Will they come back so I can see them?"

"We shall see. They are following us to the Homeworld."

The Master of the Vessel and her Master Engineer exchanged glances. The voice of their matriarch had assumed an intimate tone, as it did whenever she spoke with her youngster. "Matriarch, we have duties we must attend," the Master said.

"Of course. Go. Please send for word about the strangers, as we discussed."

"We shall do so," The Master said. Bowing respectfully, the two officers from the Batina took their leave.

"You may leave us now also, Nepay," the Matriarch said to the new arrival, who had been Tirgana's childhood tutor and now served her son in the same capacity. "I will take care of my son now that the other-worlders are no longer here to disturb us."

"Very good, my lady," the elder Caephidian said, backing out of the alcove and leaving mother and son alone.

When they were alone, Tirgana asked, "Would you like to visit with your future sister or brother for a little while, Nan?"

He nodded vigorously, as only the supple young ones could, and followed his mother to an incubator set off to the side in the Ovarium.

"Is our egg safe now?" Nan asked in a hushed voice.

"Yes, the visitors from Voyager helped make it safe."

"What are they like, Mama? Do they have the same number of eyes and arms as we do? Or do they have many, like the Dakrila?" Those had been the last alien species he had encountered.

"Two eyes, two arms, two legs. Very much like us in some ways, but their skin is smooth, the males as well as the females. And their faces changed as they spoke. The tissues must be very soft."

"And did they have hair?" The little boy's eyes widened at the thought.

"Some, on their heads, and a little on their brows."

"It must tickle them!"

"It might. I didn't ask."

"I wish I could ask them."

"They might consider that a rude question, Nan. But I have an idea--they will be coming to our Feast of Gratitude. Would you like to come to the feast, too? And see them for yourself?"

"Oh, yes, Mama, please!"

"It will be a special adult's dinner. You will have to be very good and not make a commotion if you want to stay for the whole meal."

"I'll be very good--good enough to make Papa proud of me."

The Matriarch said nothing. The words would not come through her suddenly constricted throat.

Nan stiffened and said, "I forgot. Papa can't be proud of me any more."

"He is still proud of you, Nan," Tirgana whispered. "He always will be, just as he will always love you, but he cannot come and tell you anymore."

The young one fidgeted a moment as he looked in the view panel of the incubator. Plaintively, he asked, "Mama, are you sure Papa will not come to see me ever again?"

The mother found her voice. "No, Nan, he cannot. He has been killed in battle. He would if he could. He was a very special father."

"I know. He always played with me, like I was a big person, not a little one."

"Yes, he did, didn't he?" Tirgana touched her son on the shoulder gently. "You know, the mate of one of Captain Janeway's officers came here. He plays with his little daughter, too, I understand." She stroked the bright blue splash of scales on her son's temple as he rubbed his face against her waist. "His eyes are almost as blue as your mark."

"I wish I could see them."

"We shall see. Now, shall I read you a story before you have your dinner?"

"Yes, Mama, please."

The Matriarch put her arms around her first-born hatchling and gave him a quick hug. After another appreciative look at the egg which was precious to them both, the two Caephidians--one large, one small--walked slowly away from the gently humming incubator. Mother and son were both silent, minds full of

memories of the absent Tirgan, Consort of the Matriarch. He would never return to his mate or surreptitiously care for his first-born hatchling, of whom he had truly been extremely proud.

Tirgana, in her persona of Matriarch, would never be able to find a punishment harsh enough for the one who had slain her consort. She could not even imagine one as severe as Nareb deserved. If he ever came into her hands, however, she would do her best to find one-- even if it meant personally tearing him apart, limb from limb, with her own clawed digits.

***

The senior staff was assembled in the briefing room. Although the department heads would normally have met at that hour, the agenda of this meeting was entirely concerned with Voyager's current situation. Astrometrics had already given a preliminary report on the region, making note of some interesting celestial phenomena in the area, including a number of nascent singularities.

"...all systems are now fully operational, Captain, including the warp drive," Kim said, finishing up the report on ship's operations.

Janeway nodded. "Status of weapons and shields?"

"Back to maximum capability," Tuvok answered. "After further review, I believe that our lack of phasers-- as well as the relative weakness of the shields--when we first emerged from slipstream was not due to any unusual occurrence, but rather the 'typical' effect of slipstream and its drain on our power systems."

"But we'd found a way to work around that," objected Chakotay. "After the first few jumps, we hadn't been emerging completely blind and defenseless."

"That was more due to some creative jury-rigging on our part, as opposed to any permanent solution," the chief engineer said immediately. "Considering how many EPS relays we blew coming out of the wave, it's not surprising that our 'fix' didn't hold up."

"Still, the major systems came back on-line pretty quickly," the captain noted. "Which was extremely fortuitous." Thinking of the battle they'd stumbled on, she turned to her chief of security once more. "Tuvok, do you have anything else to add?"

"I have detected no further signs of the raiders in the last two days, Captain. They appear to have left the vicinity completely. And as we have journeyed closer to the Caephidian homeworld together with the Batina, other vessels have arrived and now act as escort. It is highly unlikely we will witness any more attacks in the immediate future." He shifted slightly in his seat. "I would like to take this opportunity, Captain, to remind you of the risks inherent in our current situation, from a political point of view. Though it was not our intent to become involved in any internal conflict, the fact remains that we have taken military actions on behalf of the Caephidian Matriarch, and as such our neutrality may be considered suspect."

"But those actions were in our own self-defense," said Paris. "That raider fired on us first."

"Nonetheless, Mr. Paris," Tuvok said, "the end result is the same."

"I'm aware of the potential difficulty, Mr. Tuvok," the captain replied evenly. "However, I don't plan on sticking around long enough for that to be a lasting concern. We're heading for the Caephidian homeworld, yes, to attend the Matriarch's feast of gratitude. At the same time, I hope to have the opportunity to conduct some trade and otherwise replenish our supplies, which is always a primary concern." Particularly since their journey had just gotten longer, she added silently. "And then we'll be on our way."

As if reading her mind, Chakotay said, "The real issue here, of course, is the slipstream. Any theories on what went wrong?"

Torres shook her head, clearly not happy. "Unfortunately, we're no closer to finding any answers." She got up and went to the display on the wall. "This represents the situation in a typical jump," she said, manipulating the images to match her words. "Using slipstream is like catching a wave and riding it to shore as opposed to having to swim the whole way through. The 'wave' forms a passageway of sorts

around the ship as it's going through--the slipstream conduit--which in theory lasts for as long as we generate the effect. In the past, the variances became unstable after more than just a few minutes, due to the extreme power drain. Which is why we've limited our attempts to two minutes."

"But this time, something caused us to be thrown out of the slipstream prematurely," Paris said.

"Or caused the slipstream itself to collapse," noted Janeway.

Torres exchanged glances with the captain. "That seems to be the more likely theory," she said, "though it's odd that it should have occurred just before we were planning on exiting anyway."

"Could it have been related to our preparing to exit?" Chakotay asked.

"No," Torres said emphatically. "I don't see how." She prepared to run the simulation again. The image of a ship appeared on the crest of a wave once more. "Here's the ship, proceeding at normal velocities within the slipstream." The sides of the ship began to glow. "We have the build-up of malleotron particles on the hull, as usual, which slough off upon our exit into normal space. There is nothing out of the ordinary, nothing we haven't seen occur a dozen times before." She sighed in frustration. "I've run the power relays, correlating the variance changes with each successive 0.2 seconds of the entire 118 seconds we spent in the slipstream for this last jump. And each time I come up with nothing. No explanation as to what went wrong."

Janeway's frown of concentration matched that of her chief engineer. "Another question is, why are we back in the Delta Quadrant? Could it be related to the collapse of the slipstream wave, that we were somehow 'thrown' in the wrong direction?"

Once more, B'Elanna shook her head. "I don't know--yet. We're working on that. So far we have some theories, but until we run a few more diagnostics, we won't know for sure." She returned to her seat. "But at least there's one consolation, Captain. We haven't lost too much ground; we've only backtracked about 5,000 light years. Easy enough to make up--once we have the slipstream working properly again."

"And in the meantime, we may be able to plot a slightly different course which will help compensate as well," put in Megan Delaney. "If we alter our trajectory, cutting through a larger swath of the Beta Quadrant than we did previously, we also ought to shave another light year off the total. I've started some simulations and have all the Astrometrics personnel working on this. At the same time, we ought to be able to get a more accurate fix on our current position."

"Which will be helpful from Starfleet's end as well," the captain said approvingly. "Any progress on reestablishing the FTP communication, by the way?"

Kim answered, "Not yet, Captain. For some reason, we're having trouble getting a fix. It could be the distance is too great."

Considering they hadn't been able to establish the real-time link to Starfleet during their previous time in the Delta Quadrant, this made sense, Janeway acknowledged. "See if you can make any progress there, Mr. Kim."

"I'll be working with Icheb and Naomi in Astrometrics next shift, Captain," he said.

Janeway rose to her feet. "Then it looks like we've got all the bases covered. Dismissed." As B'Elanna turned to go, Janeway touched her arm. "I know you're giving this your best efforts," she said quietly. "And I want you to know, I have every confidence in you."

B'Elanna gave her a somewhat haggard smile. "Thank you, Captain. I appreciate it."

ACT 2

Janeway tugged on the bottom of her formal dress jacket and frowned one last time at her reflection. "I've always hated these things," she grumbled, crossing from the bedroom into the main living area of her quarters. "Whoever designed these dress uniforms seems to have been going for maximum discomfort *and* ugliness at the same time. And managed to get both exactly right. Or wrong, as the case may be."

Chakotay looked up from the couch where he was reading a PADD. "You could always switch uniforms, you know." He smiled briefly. "I think that's what Starfleet was hinting when they sent the specs for the new duty uniforms recently."

"New to us," Janeway corrected him automatically. "They were adopted by all personnel two years after we were 'lost' in the Delta Quadrant." She paused for a moment as she attached the last pip to her collar. "Starfleet didn't exactly order us to switch. In fact, I think they'd be very disappointed if we showed up on their doorstep clad in the latest 'Fleet styles, instead of the uniforms that were standard back when we first disappeared. They want us to look the part of a ship cut off from the rest of the Federation, thousands of light years from home."

Chakotay shrugged non-committaly. "Maybe. But then why waste the bandwidth sending us the specs?"

"So after the formal presentation and welcome home of the 'lost sheep', we can then change back into current officers in a hurry." She attempted a lighter tone. "Hope that's an omen for our readjustment."

He didn't answer.

"Besides," she persisted. "Have you gotten a really close look at those new uniforms?"

"The gray and black looks rather nice, I thought."

"The regular uniforms are all right," she conceded. "At least for the men. Haven't you noticed, though, that the women's tunics look a little snug on top?"

He did look up then. "Got a problem with that?" he said teasingly.

"I know *you* don't," she shot back. "But the new versions of the dress uniform? Absolutely awful. It looks like something a waiter would wear. A waiter for a second-class establishment."

"Then you shouldn't complain about having to wear the current one," he said, his attention back on his PADD once more.

"I suppose you're right," she said. She leaned over his shoulder. "What's that you're reading?"

"The latest fuel consumption reports."

"Sounds like fun."

"Maybe it's not the most fascinating subject, but it is important." He flashed her a smile. "Someone's got to work around here, you know."

"What, you don't think attending the Matriarch's feast is work?" she said in mock outrage.

"It is." His voice had lost its former lightness.

"Then?" She gave him a searching glance as she seated herself beside him. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were upset you couldn't attend."

"I'm not upset," he said, turning slightly away from her.

"Annoyed, then."

"I'm not annoyed." He sighed. "Look, I know we have to respect the cultural and societal mores of the different species that we encounter, and it's clear that the Caephidians have a strong matriarchal society. The males aren't valued too highly, apparently, other than as breeders."

Her head came up sharply at the word 'breeders.' She wondered if he was going to get in another dig about her 'daughter Molly'; he'd already teased her quite a bit after the away team had returned from the Batina. "And war leaders, apparently," she reminded him, hoping to change the subject.

"Great. As Tom Paris said, we can make love, as well as war."

"I'm not disputing your prowess in either department, my angry warrior," she said with a smile, as she traced his features lightly with her hand. She stopped. "Chakotay, what is it? This isn't like you."

"What's not like me?" he said, his eyes once more on his PADD.

She reached out and took it from him. "This moodiness."

"I'm not moody." He tried to reclaim the PADD, but she held it away. "Don't you think you should be going, Captain? You don't want to keep the rest of the landing party waiting in the transporter room."

"A few more minutes isn't going to make a difference." She watched as he slid off the couch and walked over to the replicator. "I mean it, Chakotay, if it were anyone else acting this way, I'd say you were brooding."

"I'm not brooding," he said, calling up a cup of tea. "Just...thinking."

"About?"

"Various things," he said evasively.

She waited. Her patience was rewarded when, after a few moments, he sat down next to her again with another sigh. "As we get closer and closer to home, I can't help but wonder what kind of reception we're going to get. The Maquis, I mean."

She caught his gaze in her own and held it. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I will not allow Starfleet to think for even a moment that they can treat any member of my crew differently than the others."

"Even your first officer?"

"Especially my first officer."

"Why?" he challenged. "Because I'm your lover?"

"Because you're a damn good officer who's been instrumental in the survival of this ship over the past seven plus years, that's why." She glared at him. "What I don't understand is why you would even think for a moment that our personal relationship has anything to do with it."

"I'm just wondering what's going to happen, where I'll fit in, once we get back." He forestalled her objection. "Even if the Federation does decide to issue a general pardon to the Maquis."

"I'm sure you could find a suitable position in Starfleet," she said, adding swiftly, "Even without my help."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." He put his drink down on the coffee table, without having tasted it. "Kathryn, did it ever occur to you that I might not want to stay in Starfleet, even if they'll have me?"

She gaped at him, even as she wondered why she found this so surprising. "I know that your past association with the 'Fleet wasn't always smooth, and that your parting was less than amicable--"

"I resigned my commission because I could no longer serve an institution that could blithely sacrifice my people for the sake of a political settlement," he said sharply.

"Yes, I know," she reassured him. "But I thought, once aboard Voyager--"

He interrupted once more. "It was because of you, Kathryn. What you offered me and my crew. Despite the fact that we were wanted criminals, you offered me the chance to work with you instead of against you. And the way you treated all of us as equals from the very start." He ran his hand through his hair distractedly. "Not too many other Starfleet commanders would have reacted the same way. Probably would have had us thrown in the brig instead for the next seventy years, or however long it would take till we got home." His lips twisted in an ironic smile. "I suppose we were very lucky that it was Voyager who was sent out to arrest us, and not some other vessel."

Her brain could not get past his initial statement, his implication--no, his assertion--about the Maquis. Somehow, she hadn't given much thought over the years that the more 'diverse' elements of her crew hadn't fully accepted the Starfleet way, that instead they served solely out of a sense of personal loyalty to her, the captain who offered them a way, however tenuous, of getting back home.

She looked over at Chakotay once more, studying him more carefully than she had in some time. Ever since Prixin, when she had decided to allow their relationship to progress to the intimacy they both had wanted for so long, she hadn't stopped to analyze very much, content to live in the moment, even as the light years separating them from home became fewer and fewer. With a sudden pang, she realized that coming home might take away the most precious thing the Delta Quadrant had given her. Her own plans were somewhat nebulous, but it had never occurred to her to wonder if in the future Chakotay would still be there by her side.

She strove to keep her voice steady. "So you're saying you're going to leave Starfleet? What will you do? Where will you go?"

He shook his head slowly. "I don't have any answers. Not yet. And besides, it may not be up to me. Or even you, for that matter."

A sudden chirp from her comm badge made them both jump. "Transporter room to Captain Janeway." She recognized the crisp tone of Ensign Mulcahey.

"Janeway here."

"The away team is assembled, Captain."

"Thank you, Ensign. I'm on my way." She turned back to the man she'd come to depend on so much over the years. "Chakotay--"

"Go, they're waiting for you." He made a shooing motion with his hands. "We can continue this another time."

"All right." She gave him a quick kiss. "Take care of my ship for me."

"I always do."

"I know. And I appreciate it." She gave him one last lingering glance before she headed out the door.

***

"Just what. . . I don't need . . . tonight . . . when I've got . . . so much to do . . . figuring out how . . . to get the drive fixed . . . so we can get . . . back on track . . ."

Every guttural phrase B'Elanna muttered was punctuated by a vigorous--almost vicious--stroke of her hairbrush, relentlessly dragged through her thick mane of hair. She didn't stop until it didn't dare *not* gleam in the light of the dressing table mirror. The last thing she needed tonight was to attend a diplomatic function. She was the chief engineer! She had responsibilities to her crew mates and to her ship. She never enjoyed getting all gussied up for functions like this anyway. Why did it always seem she was forced into doing something like this when she already had so much to do?

Adding insult to injury: B'Elanna could smell the heavenly scent of fresh popcorn wafting out of the popper. Leave it to Tom to replicate an ancient machine for popping corn instead of just ordering the stuff already made from the replicator, but she had to admit it tasted better that way.

A little more lipstick, another puff to her nose, and B'Elanna was as ready as she would ever be. As she stalked out of the dressing room, B'Elanna grumbled beneath her breath about sacrifices made for people who didn't even notice what was being given up, not really expecting any answer. Her husband and daughter, clad in matching rust-colored sweatsuits, were far too busy to pay any attention to her anyway.

Her mood was not improved by the sound of her daughter gurgling with delight at her father. Tom, of course, was encouraging her, growling, "Are you swinging that bat'leth at *me*, my little Warrior Princess?" His voice was muffled from rubbing his face in Miral's sturdy tummy. Ruefully, B'Elanna decided she would much prefer to join them instead of going to an alien banquet with foods that had a high probability of being either bad for her or horrible tasting.

"Oh, I really wanted to see this movie, too," B'Elanna moaned when she caught sight of the television screen. "I think Hepburn's got better form swinging that golf club than you do, Tom."

"Listen to her, Miral. I think I'm being insulted again--as if it wasn't bad enough being ignored by the Caephidians."

"I don't notice any major damage to your ego, Tom." Despite her pique, which had started as soon as she'd been ordered by the captain to attend the evening's event, B'Elanna's spirits were raised by the sight of her daughter, cuddled up in her father's arms. Sighing, she asked, "Are you sure you don't want to talk me into playing hooky from this dinner?"

Tom grinned back at her, "I'd love to, but the captain would kill me. It's okay. We can watch it again another night, B'Elanna. Tracy and Hepburn in 'Pat and Mike' is one of my favorites. Don't you think Hepburn looks a lot like Captain Janeway?"

"She certainly sounds like her."

She gazed at the screen for a few minutes, enjoying a few scenes from the movie. Most of the time, Tom's movie choices were about as compatible with B'Elanna's as his taste in holodeck programs, but Tracy and Hepburn movies were different. It hadn't escaped B'Elanna's notice that the competitiveness of the couple was not unlike the way the two of them sometimes acted. And the actress did resemble Captain Janeway more than a little, although B'Elanna was not about to admit that to Tom.

Finally, she said reluctantly, "I guess I'd better go. I'm supposed to meet Sam, the Doctor, and the captain in the Transporter Room. Don't let her eat that popcorn. She's liable to choke on the kernels. You know what the Doctor said."

"We'll be fine. Have a nice time at dinner," Tom said, settling down on the couch with Miral and absently breaking up pieces of the popcorn so that only the tiniest, softest pieces would end up in Miral's inquisitive mouth.

"Don't miss me too much," B'Elanna called out as she stepped through the door. The only answer was the flickering light of the television set. B'Elanna's family was so engrossed in what they were watching, she doubted they even knew she had gone.

***

"You look great, Mom."

"Thank you, Naomi," Sam replied, fluffing her hair one more time as they left their quarters. Naomi's comment gratified her immensely. While she had always enjoyed a close relationship with her daughter because of their unique situation on Voyager, Sam could never hear enough compliments like that. What parent could? Especially from someone who was, in human terms, a teenager.

"The cadet dress uniform is pretty nice, too, I understand. I wonder if I'll ever get a chance to wear one?" Naomi sighed dramatically as she followed her mother into the corridor and headed towards the turbolift with her.

"Oh, at the rate we're going, I'm sure you will--once you get to the Academy." Sam smiled sweetly, perfectly aware of the path this conversation was taking.

"You know, I've heard that the Caephidians really value motherhood, especially having daughters," Naomi remarked, a little too off-handedly. "Are you sure it wouldn't be a good idea if I came along with you to represent Voyager?"

Naomi's voice was deceptively mild; her blue eyes shone with sincerity. She was the picture of innocence. Sam unsuccessfully tried to stifle her smile as she said, "The Caephidians also value doing one's duty very highly. And you have an assignment tonight in Astrometrics, don't you?"

Naomi wrinkled her nose in frustration. "Drat. I hoped you'd help get me out of it."

"Dealing with being on duty at inconvenient times is a necessity when you choose the life of a Starfleet officer." Sam kept her voice deliberately mild, not wishing to provoke her daughter unduly, although Naomi didn't really seem upset.

She quickly showed she wasn't as she grinned, "Well, it was worth a try, wasn't it?"

"It sure was," Sam gave her daughter a quick hug as they stepped onto the lift. "And you know what? I'm a little disappointed you're not going, Honey. I really wanted to have an excuse to show you off to the Caephidians."

"Next time," Naomi said.

"You bet," Sam replied as the door swished open at Deck 9.

"Betting about what?" B'Elanna asked as she stepped briskly onto the turbolift, tugging at the hem of her dress uniform jacket.

"We were just saying that next time the Caephidians ask us to dinner, we should ask to bring our daughters along with us so we can show them off," Sam said.

"The next time the Caephidians ask us for dinner, I hope I don't have a ship to fix!" B'Elanna replied bitingly. "I'm too busy for nonsense like this! I'd gladly trade places with you, Naomi."

Wisely, neither Wildman responded to this statement. The door opened again almost immediately. "Deck 8. This is my stop," Naomi said. "See you later, Mom. Take notes so you can tell me all about it!"

"Have a good shift, Honey." As the turbolift moved upwards again, Sam sighed, "She's growing up so fast."

"I know what you mean. I can't believe how big Miral is getting. We had to replicate her another pair of shoes this evening because the ones she had were too small already. It's not possible. Wasn't she born only a few days ago?"

"I'm sure it seems like that," Sam agreed. "They insist on growing up right before your eyes, long before we're ready, don't they?" The two bobbed their heads in shared sympathy, acknowledging that universal complaint of mothers.

As they exited the turbolift at Deck 4, a stormy-faced Jenny Delaney stomped into it and grunted, "Deck 8."

"What's with her?" B'Elanna asked, momentarily shaken out of her doldrums at the sight of someone else in a worse mood.

"She's not happy about having to take care of Astrometrics while I'm out having a good time at the palace," replied Megan Delaney as they walked down the corridor to the transporter room.

"There's a lot of that going around," Sam remarked.

"As if I really have time for a diplomatic dinner while we've got so much to do here!" Megan complained.

"Lot of that going around, too," B'Elanna said dryly, exchanging a bemused glance with Sam before changing the subject. "Is the captain here yet?"

"No. The Doctor and Harper, who's got the security shift, aren't here yet, either."

"Well, while we're waiting . . . " B'Elanna tapped her comm badge. "Torres to Carey. Joe? What's the status of the drive? Did you find out what happened yet?" B'Elanna rapidly strode into the transporter room as she received the latest diagnostics results on the slipstream drive. Sam and Megan followed more slowly.

Sam happened to glance over her shoulder towards the turbolift just before the transporter room door closed. "Hold open!" she ordered as she saw two people exiting the lift. "Oh, my!" Sam exclaimed, drawing the attention of her two companions and Mulcahey, the transporter technician on duty.

"Kahless! It's Katharine Hepburn!"

::::B'Elanna? What did you just say?:::: Joe's voice echoed out of the comm badge. His curiosity was to go unsatisfied for the time being, however, as B'Elanna's response was to say, "Torres, out."

Ensign Julia Harper's lips were tightly pursed, as if that were the only way she could prevent herself from erupting into guffaws of laughter. Sam had a hunch she looked a lot like Harper. From behind her, Sam heard Megan gurgle something unintelligible, while Mulcahey turned his head away, snickering audibly, before getting himself under control and calling the captain to let her know the away team was assembled and waiting for her.

Sam wasn't quite sure how long the awkward silence lasted after Mulcahey's communication with the captain ended, but it probably wasn't as long as it seemed.

B'Elanna finally broke the silence. "Tom put you up to this, didn't he?"

"Why, yes, Lieutenant. He helped me establish my appearance. I would have asked you, but I know how busy you've been. How do I look?"

"Like Queen Arachnia," B'Elanna stated flatly, revising her first opinion somewhat. Sam realized that both actually were somewhat true.

"I was in a theatrical mood," the Doctor replied archly. "This is, after all, going to require quite the rare performance from yours truly, your humble photonic physician. I'm not used to being an alto, you know--although it's certainly preferable to being a soprano."

The voice was feminine but low-pitched and a bit raspy, with an accent that was just like that of the legendary twentieth century actress, yet with an undeniably sarcastic edge that was definitely the Doctor's own contribution. The cheekbones were high and aristocratic, just like Hepburn's; the frame slender; the stride long and graceful; but the hair . . . oh, that hair!

Even in the early days on Voyager, Captain Janeway had never worn her hair in quite this swooping, exotic a style. She recognized it from trips to the holodeck with Naomi and Icheb when they wanted to play the Captain Proton scenario in the days when Sam was unwilling to allow them to go there unchaperoned.

Just then, the doors to the transporter room parted once again to permit the captain to enter. She stopped dead in her tracks just inside the door, eyes narrowed, and stared at the EMH for several seconds. Sam held her breath.

The captain cleared her throat. "Let's get going," was all she said, as she led the way onto the transporter pad.

As the transmogrified doctor posed next to the captain, Sam had the wild urge to comment about how much the two resembled each other. She successfully refrained from voicing the observation, but she distinctly heard Megan whisper, "Jenny is never going to forgive me for missing this."

"I just hope Naomi will," Sam murmured back, as Mulcahey worked the controls and the transporter room faded away, to be replaced by glistening walls of carved jet black marble.

***

The chamber the feast was held in appeared to have been carved out of a single massive piece of rock. The Voyager officers had beamed directly into the Matriarch's mountain fortress several hours ago, but the subsequent tour had shown them just how vast the palace was, with seemingly endless corridors and chambers on multiple levels. Janeway wouldn't be surprised to learn that the entire mountain had been hollowed out to accommodate the Matriarch's palace and main seat of government.

She picked up her goblet and took a small sip of wine, glancing around the long banquet hall as she did so. The walls were hung with intricately woven tapestries, portraying heroes and legends of the Caephidian past, a pictorial representation of their history. The Matriarch herself had woven the most recent panel, they had been told, depicting the major accomplishments of her mother's reign. A bare space beside was clearly intended to one day be filled with her own exploits, woven by her offspring and heir. But so far, the Matriarch had no daughters.

The captain had unobtrusively run her fingers over the smooth rock wall, whose rich veins of color indicated the presence of various minerals, colors which perfectly matched the tapestries and other draperies. The scientist in her wished for a tricorder to analyze the composition of the unfamiliar materials, but of course it would be a breach of good manners to scan her hosts' dwelling in such a manner. As it was, the Doctor was the only one of the away team equipped with a tricorder, which he had used to surreptitiously scan the lavish dishes on the table to determine their compatibility with Human and Klingon physiology.

"Best to avoid the me'urav ashalmay," he'd murmured to her, as they took their places at the table, at the Matriarch's right side. "And eat only small amounts of the k'hazeh. The rest of the food shouldn't present any problems, although you should be aware that all of the beverages have alcohol contents ranging from five to 70 percent."

"I hope that everything is to your liking, Captain," the Matriarch said, after the second course had been cleared away. She was resplendent in a deep purple velvet gown, richly embroidered with gold and silver threads. It set off her pale skin tones perfectly. A thick white ribbon, which bore a single multi-colored gem, was arranged across her forehead; the symbol of her office. It reminded Janeway of the diadem worn by Eastern monarchs in Earth's ancient past. Chakotay would have found this detail very interesting, she knew; he would have particularly loved to have an opportunity to study some of the tapestries up close. She tamped down the pang of regret, along with the memory of their last conversation, and turned to her hostess.

"Yes, everything is fine, Matriarch," Janeway answered.

"Please, call me Tirgana."

Janeway smiled. "Then you must call me Janeway," she said, remembering the Caephidian naming customs. She gestured at their surroundings. "I must say, we are truly honored by this lavish feast you have arranged for us."

"The honor is ours, Janeway," the Matriarch replied graciously. "We owe you a great debt of gratitude for your assistance." She inclined her head to where B'Elanna sat, deep in conversation with another Caephidian female, the First Science Minister. "And perhaps we will be able to return the favor and help you resume your way."

"That would a definite benefit." A serving woman brought out plates heaped high with zimmelt, a delicacy that was the particular favorite of the Matriarch. Janeway took a cautious mouthful and immediately took another. Although it was a vegetable dish, it had the texture and flavor of braised veal, in a rich and pungent sauce. Janeway made a mental note to find out if Neelix could duplicate the recipe.

The Matriarch hadn't missed her guest's reaction. "And of course, we will be more than happy to supply you with provisions."

"On behalf of my crew, I thank you."

The Matriarch turned to speak to one of her courtiers who had entered the hall, a woman who Janeway had been introduced to earlier, although she couldn't quite recall her name or office. So as not to eavesdrop, she turned to see how the other members of the away team were faring.

The Doctor was discussing opera with the Minister of Culture. Fortunately the Caephidians saw nothing untoward about his appearance this evening, though the captain herself found it easier not to look in his direction for more than a few moments at a time.

"Ah, but if you feel that way, then you would appreciate Margueritte's aria in the Metropolitan's performance of..." the Doctor was saying with an expansive wave of his hand. Beside him the security officer, Ensign Harper, concentrated on her food and did not appear to be comfortable engaging any of the Caephidians nearby in small talk.

Samantha Wildman and Megan Delaney were listening to Susera, the Minister of the Interior. "...the vessel which attacked the Matriarch's ship belongs to Nareb, formerly Second to our late War Leader Tirgan."

"Do you have evidence for this?" asked Samantha, obviously surprised by the matter-of-fact statement.

The Minister nodded. "It is not the first time he has moved against the Royal Kindred."

"You mean he killed Tirgan?" Samantha said.

"Yes," Susera said emphatically. "Six weeks ago, he murdered the Matriarch's Consort, doubtless hoping to fill that position himself."

"And he probably wouldn't stop there," put in Megan.

The Minister looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean, Lieutenant?"

"That once he established himself as head of the army, or War Leader, Nareb would probably try to use that as a tool for overthrowing the government. How much of your fleet has he taken control of?"

Bemused, the Caephidians within earshot all began shaking their heads. "No, you don't understand. Nareb wishes to fill Tirgan's shoes in every respect, including the role of Consort. Then his progeny, if he were to sire a daughter, would one day be the next Matriarch," Susera's aide Galera explained.

The Voyager officers exchanged glances. "You mean he wouldn't try to seize power in his own name?"

Now the Minister began to laugh. "A male as ruler? What a preposterous idea!"

"They can think no further than battle and the hunt, and of impressing females," chimed in Gelara. "I cannot begin to think of what a shambles everything would be in if the males were ruling our society."

Despite herself, Megan grinned. "Can't argue with that one," she murmured to Samantha.

"You're thinking of Human males," Sam reminded her, although her lips twitched slightly.

As the Matriarch was still occupied, the captain glanced around the banquet hall once more. There must have been over one hundred people in the chamber, she estimated. They ranged in age all the way from the Matriarch's elderly great-aunt, to a few young children. There was even a baby, the Matriarch's niece Bragila, who looked to be younger than Miral Paris. With one exception, all the attendees, as well as the servants, were female.

The one exception was the Matriarch's six year old son, Nan. He had smiled shyly when the visitors were introduced, and then had been led off to a smaller table by his nursemaid Rakila. Janeway could see him now from where she sat. Another woman had joined them, and was clearly trying to coax the little boy to eat some more. Janeway bit back a smile as Nan shook his head emphatically, and scowled.

"I don't want that!" he said loudly. "I told you that before, Majalay!" His face was flushed, perhaps due to temper; the large birthmark above his brow stood out in greater relief than usual.

Majalay exchanged glances with Rakila. "Just a little bit, and then you can have your dessert."

"NO!" yelled Nan, and then he lunged forward. It looked at first as though he was trying to grab something on the table, the forbidden dessert perhaps. But when his body began jerking convulsively, it became evident that something was very wrong.

The Matriarch rushed over, alerted by Majalay's scream. "Nan!" A knot of people quickly gathered around the boy's still thrashing form. "Where is the Physician?" she cried.

Janeway and her officers had also risen, but the Doctor waded determinedly into the fray. "Stand back, everyone."

"The Royal Physician," said the Matriarch once more, desperately holding onto her child's flailing limbs as if she could will him to recover. "Where is she?"

"Your pardon, Matriarch," said one of the courtiers. "The Physician was called away earlier to attend to a family emergency--"

Meanwhile, Voyager's EMH had whipped out his tricorder and done a quick scan. He reached into his medikit and brought out a hypo. Glancing at the boy's mother, he waited for her nod before injecting the drug.

The change in Nan was immediate. He stopped thrashing, and lay deathly still.

"He's not breathing," said the Matriarch, her eyes wide and fearful. "Do something!"

The Doctor held up a hand. "Just wait a moment...ah, there we go." In the tremulous silence, the sound of the boy taking a deep breath sounded like a triumphant roar. "He should be all right now."

The Matriarch gathered her son into her arms and held him for a long moment. Finally, she looked up. "Once more, I am in your debt, Captain. And of your valiant crew."

The Doctor frowned over his readings, and then glanced at the child who was sitting up, very pale, and looking confused. "Has your son ever experienced anything like this before?"

The nursemaid Rakila spoke up nervously. "Never." Beside her, Majalay nodded.

"Can you tell what it was, Doctor?" asked the Matriarch, as she stroked her son's forehead with a trembling hand. Nan closed his eyes and leaned against his mother, clearly exhausted.

"From what I can tell, he experienced an allergic reaction, most likely to something he ate. Was there anything served tonight that he hasn't tried before?"

Again, the two nursemaids exchanged glances. "Just the agvania sweet," Majalay said at last. "But he only had a little bit."

"Sometimes, that's all it takes," the Doctor said and stood. "With your permission, I would like to accompany Nan back to his quarters and run some more tests." He forestalled the Matriarch's worried question. "Just to make sure that everything is all right."

"All right. You have my permission," the Matriarch said. Reluctantly, she handed Nan to Rakila. "I will come up shortly." She turned to her guests. "I am sorry for the interruption."

"Not at all," Janeway said. "In fact, we really need to be returning to our ship."

"Are you sure we cannot offer you hospitality for the night?"

"No, thank you. We wouldn't want to impose upon you any further, especially when you have other concerns." Janeway watched as the Doctor followed the nursemaids out of the hall, Nan in tow.

"And of course, you are anxious to return to your mates," the Matriarch said, with a wistful note in her voice. Janeway recalled once more that the Matriarch's consort had died not too long ago.

"Yes. Once more we thank you, Matriarch."

"We will be in touch, Captain."

***

The Doctor hurried down the deserted corridor, trying to keep the rapidly retreating backs of the Caephidian nursemaids in sight. The passageway twisted and turned, at one point shifting to a steep incline and then plunging downward once more. It occurred to him that the women were deliberately taking a circuitous route to keep him from learning too much about the location of the Royal Apartments within the palace compound.

Finally, he saw Majalay and Rakila come to a halt. Rakila, who had been carrying Nan until now, handed the boy to Majalay, along with a whispered comment. The Doctor saw their lips move, but even with his enhanced sensory abilities, he was unable to make out what the women were saying. Majalay made a quick gesture with her free hand--the other was supporting Nan's head against her shoulder--and Rakila scurried off, moving even more quickly now that she was no longer burdened by the weight of the child.

Majalay turned impatiently to the Doctor. "Watch your step." She tapped her belt and an entire section of the wall slid away in front of them, revealing a small chamber, which the Doctor guessed to be some sort of turbolift. Majalay motioned for him to precede her, then stepped in herself, the door instantly closing behind her. As the 'lift moved there was total silence, except for the sound of Nan's breathing.

When the door opened once more, a vastly different hallway was revealed. Two guards sprang to attention, the first that the Doctor had seen. He supposed the other corridors contained sophisticated surveillance equipment, making the physical presence of any security officers superfluous. But the Royal Apartments apparently were a different story. The guards glanced curiously at the Doctor, then at Majalay. The nursemaid nodded curtly. "This is the Voyager Physician. She is with me by permission of the Matriarch."

They passed through a series of antechambers, then a large room which looked as though it might be a schoolroom, equipped as it was with a number of computer terminals and tables with various holographic displays. One was a representation of the Caephidian solar system. A few toys were scattered about as well.

Another guard, dressed like the first two in full body armor and helmet which completely obscured any facial features, stood poised outside what the Doctor assumed was Nan's bedroom. Once again Majalay explained the visitor's presence.

Majalay laid the boy down on his bed and began to remove his boots. Nan's eyes were closed, and his breathing indicated he had fallen asleep. She held up a preemptory hand when the Doctor approached. "He is exhausted and needs his rest."

"I won't disturb him, I promise," the Doctor said. He shifted his feet to avoid stepping on a small stuffed animal, roughly similar to a Terran rabbit, if that animal was covered in scales. He bent down to pick it up and laid it on the bed next to Nan. "I just want to run a few simple scans, to make sure he is completely recovered from tonight's events." He added, "It is the Matriarch's wish that I do so."

Majalay didn't answer, though her disapproval was evident. She gently eased the lavishly embroidered waistcoat over Nan's head and slipped on a loose nightshirt. She moved Nan's head onto the pillow and pulled the golden coverlet up to his chin. Her hand rested on his shoulder for a moment, her lips trembling. Then, her features settling into an expressionless mask, she took up a position next to the head of the bed. "You may proceed with your exam, Doctor."

He could tell she was reluctant to leave him alone with the boy. "Thank you," he said, reminding himself that as one of the nursemaids charged with Nan's care, she was undoubtedly very attached to him and any irritation she was exhibiting was her way of expressing her anxiety over what had just occurred.

"Where is Rakila?" he asked, as he pulled out his mediwand and began scanning the boy.

Majalay appeared taken aback for a moment. "She had an errand to perform."

"Will she be returning shortly?"

"That is no concern of yours," Majalay snapped.

The Doctor said soothingly, "I just wanted to know so that I can personally reassure her that Nan is all right, that it was nothing she did which caused him to react in this manner."

"Of course not. Why would she think otherwise?" Majalay said. The Doctor looked at her sharply, thinking he'd caught a note of uncertainty in the nurse's voice.

"No reason at all. Allergies can be difficult to discern, especially if they appear without warning, and with such dramatic effect." As he spoke, the Doctor kept his eye on his tricorder and then casually aimed the mediwand in Majalay's direction.

"Is Nan all right?" said a new voice. The Doctor looked up to see an older woman in a simple dark gray tunic enter the bedroom, a look of mingled shock and concern on her face. "Majalay, what happened? I heard Nan was taken ill at the feast."

"He had an unpleasant reaction to something he ate, I'm afraid," the Doctor said. The woman looked up in surprise; evidently she hadn't noticed him standing there. He held out his hand to the newcomer, as Majalay didn't seem inclined to make the introductions. "I am Voyager's Physician."

"Nepay, the Royal Tutor." She looked down at the sleeping child. "Is he all right now?"

The Doctor put away his instruments. "Nan will be just fine."

"That's good to know," Nepay said, relief evident in her voice.

Majalay stepped forward quickly. "If you're finished, Doctor, I will have someone escort you to the transporter chamber, so you may return to your ship."

"Thank you, but I would first like to report personally to the Matriarch," the Doctor said. "And leave a message for your Physician, so she can be fully briefed on what transpired this evening."

"Of course," said Majalay, though clearly the sooner the Doctor left the happier she would be. She turned to the Tutor. "Nepay, perhaps you wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all," Nepay said. "Just let me say good night to my favorite pupil." She bent over the child's bed and lightly touched his cheek, a tender expression on her face. "Pleasant dreams, little one."

The Doctor nodded, his mind on what he would say in his report to the Matriarch--and to Captain Janeway.

***

"She still isn't very happy, is she?" Icheb said softly.

"No, she isn't," Naomi replied. She hoped that their superior officer had not overheard them. Jenny Delaney had been pouting since she arrived in Astrometrics, obviously annoyed that her sister had gotten the opportunity to attend the Matriarch's feast while she was stuck "babysitting" cadets. Since overhearing that comment, Naomi and Icheb had both worked very hard at their stellar mapping duties, on their very best behavior so as to avoid upsetting her any further. "Usually, she flirts a little with Lieutenant Kim whenever

he's around, but she hasn't done it once tonight, even though he's been here more than on the bridge tonight."

"Harry has been seeing Marla Gilmore for some time now. Perhaps she expressed a lack of appreciation for anyone flirting with Harry but her?"

"Maybe . . ."

By her tone, Naomi was clearly not convinced. Icheb, however, was not in the mood to gossip tonight.

"We can take a break in the mess hall in a half hour. Neelix and Sarexa said they were going to have Pleeka Rind Casserole on the menu tonight."

"That is, if Lieutenant Kim hasn't eaten it all already! He loves it."

Icheb grinned. "I like it, too. We could take our trays to aeroponics if you want. 'Kes's Flower' is in bloom now," he said, referring to one of the Ocampan's plant hybrids. Even though he had never met her, it was a favorite of his, and he looked forward to its blooms as avidly as any of those who had known Kes.

Naomi smiled. "Maybe, if we can't get a good table in the mess hall." Naomi turned back to her work, trying to figure out what was wrong with the resolution on her console screen. The engineers were so busy right now, she hated to ask them to take the time to fix it.

"Icheb, can you help me get a clear picture on my console?" she finally asked. "It's definitely off."

"That's odd," Icheb said. "Mine is not clear, either, but I just finished a diagnostic and it says the screen is calibrated properly."

Naomi walked over to his station and looked at his work. As he scanned different quadrant views she could see that, like her own console, the screens all had a blurry quality, almost a double image. There was one major discrepancy however--one area where the star fields didn't match up at all. Suddenly she touched his wrist and said, "Hold that view, Icheb. Look at that! This is a lot more than just an instrument problem!"

He nodded agreement and called Jenny Delaney over immediately.

"What is it, Cadet?" Jenny asked as she approached.

"I was just incorporating the new star charts with the ones in our data base. I was having some trouble, since there are many minor discrepancies, but Naomi just pointed out one that is not minor."

"It's almost as if we're getting two images of the same star field superimposed on each other, off by only a few degrees," Naomi added. "Except for this one here. This nova is exactly where the brown dwarf we catalogued a few months ago should be."

As Jenny stared at the images, the pinched look on her face vanished. Quietly, she said, "The only way that brown dwarf could be the same star is if we are displaced in time, not just space."

Icheb looked up from his console where he had been running another set of data. "Three hundred and ninety seven years into the past, by my calculations."

Naomi was staggered by the implications. "Shouldn't we call the captain to see this?"

"I don't know how we can get word to her right now. She's on the planet with the Caephidians." Suddenly Jenny caught her breath. "Interacting with the Caephidians. It may already be too late not to have changed the future! We'd better send for Harry, and for Commander Chakotay and Tuvok right now, though. This changes everything."

ACT 3

Janeway sat in her Ready Room, trying to assimilate the astounding revelation from Astrometrics that had greeted her as soon as she returned to the ship. That was one hell of a misstep in the last slipstream jump, she thought, if it had displaced them temporally as well as spatially.

The physical distance was the least of their worries now. Certainly, it was disheartening to discover that Voyager was once more back in the Delta Quadrant--particularly after the jubilation that had greeted the earlier announcement that the ship had crossed over the invisible boundary into the Alpha Quadrant. But a dispassionate review of their situation showed that they had really only lost a total of five thousand light years. That could be easily made up--just hop right back in the slipstream. Once they determined what had gone wrong on this past attempt, she reminded herself. Still, they had over a dozen successful jumps prior to this. No, the physical distance was not the issue.

The news that they were stranded in the past, with no clue as to how to get back--this was serious. And as always when dealing with time travel, they'd have to be extremely careful not to inadvertently do anything that would change the nature of their own reality. She smiled briefly, without humor. She could certainly feel a little more sympathy for her (once and future?) nemesis Captain Braxton and the complexities that he faced, particularly when it came to Voyager. They'd certainly had more than their share of time travel experiences over the years. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling a major headache coming on.

The door signal chimed. "Come," she called, hoping it would be Tuvok. A calm dispassionate viewpoint was what she needed right now. Both he and Chakotay were due to join her in a little while to discuss the situation, and hopefully present some options.

To her surprise, she saw that it was the Doctor, once more back to his usual male appearance. She remembered now that he had stayed behind on the planet to treat the Matriarch's son. She'd forgotten all about it in the shock and confusion surrounding the most recent development. Clearly the Doctor had just returned and had come by to give her his report.

"Yes, Doctor," she said, motioning him to a seat. "How is the boy doing? Were you able to determine what caused his illness?"

"As I suspected, it was a simple allergic reaction, and when I left he was quite recovered and sleeping peacefully. No, Captain," the Doctor said, his brow furrowed, "that isn't what I came to speak to you about."

"Then what is?" she asked.

"While we were on the planet, I made an astonishing discovery that you need to know about immediately. It changes everything about our situation here."

She held up a hand. "Thank you, Doctor, but I already know."

His surprise was evident. "You do? But how? I only found out myself when I did the initial scan of the boy at the feast."

"Ensign Delaney notified me a few minutes ago," she said, more calmly than she felt.

"How did Ensign Delaney know? She was standing nowhere near me at the time."

"Not Megan, Jenny," she said, giving him a curious look. "Jenny was in Astrometrics this evening, working with Icheb and Naomi. It was their observation while charting star positions which revealed the temporal displacement."

If the Doctor had appeared to be puzzled before, that was nothing compared to the look on his face now. "Temporal displacement?" He suddenly slapped his forehead. "But of course! Now it makes perfect sense to me."

She got up and went around to where he was sitting. "Doctor," she said carefully. "What are you talking about?"

He stood as well. "What I discovered on the planet. I ran a hurried bioscan of the Matriarch's son at the feast, then another, more thorough, one in his quarters. I also scanned his nursemaid, tutor and one of the guards--all without their knowledge." He hesitated a moment, and said, "Captain, the Caephidians---they are a species we have encountered before, though that was not what they called themselves."

"Who are they?"

The Doctor's voice was very quiet as he answered. "Hirogen."

She stared at him for a long moment, not sure she'd heard him properly. "Hirogen! Are you sure?"

He nodded. "There's no doubt about it. The DNA matches exactly." He sighed, a surprisingly human gesture. "You would have probably discovered it yourself, if you had seen any adult males. But all of our dealings up to now have been with females, who lack the mottled skin and ridges of the mature males."

Hirogen. She shivered involuntarily; she remembered the vicious hunters all too well, how from the very first their encounters had been marked by extreme aggression, remembered too how the Hirogen had taken over her ship and forced her crew into the role of prey.

"But the societies are so different..." Her voice trailed off. Clearly something major must have happened within the past few centuries to cause so drastic a change.

She closed her eyes, the throbbing in her forehead having changed to a full scale pounding.

***

"One more minute of your time, Matriarch?" Susera, the Minister of the Interior, bowed low. Standing a step behind her, Ristina, the government's leading scientist who also served the government as the primary Science Advisor, also bowed respectfully.

Tirgana sighed. "It's very late, Susera. I've been kept up almost all night by the Warrior's Council's questions about the campaign they wish to wage against our former Second. Can't it wait until morning?"

"We would not think of bothering you at such an hour if we did not feel it was of the utmost urgency," Susera replied. The perpetual wrinkle between her eyes that Tirgana had always thought of as the Minister's "worry furrow" was even deeper than usual tonight.

"Very well. Walk with me back to my apartments and tell me what you must let me know at such an hour."

"Matriarch, you asked us to try to find out what we could of this ship, Voyager. We have sent messages over the Communications Network as far as it reaches, but no one has ever encountered a ship called Voyager. It seems to have appeared out of nowhere! We've also inquired about this Federation they represent. No one has ever heard of it, either."

Tirgana picked up her pace. "This is quite unexpected." She moved to the right of the corridor, the closest place where a communications terminal was located, and contacted her old tutor.

::::Yes?:::: Nepay drawled out her response sleepily.

"Nepay, you reported that Voyager's physician took care of Nan and then left hours ago . . ."

::::Why, yes, she did. ::::

"And Nan was well when you last saw him?"

::::He went to sleep shortly after their Doctor left. Nan was fine, as I told you. Their physician was very skilled and very good with him, too, from what I saw.::::

"Please check on Nan for me. I've just heard some rather disturbing news and I wish to make certain he is still 'fine.' "

::::Of course. It will only take me a few nuta.::::

"Thank you, Nepay. I'm sorry to disturb you."

::::Don't worry about it, my lady Tirgana. I will always serve you and your family in any way I can. It's just a little harder to wake up in the middle of the night, now that I'm in my dotage!::::

"You, never!" The Matriarch said gently, before cutting off the signal.

Turning to her courtiers, Tirgana mused, "I feel certain that Janeway is trustworthy, but it's wise to be careful."

The science advisor cleared her throat. "Matriarch, I also feel no ill will from those on Voyager. I spent a great deal of the evening speaking with their chief engineer. From the story she told about their journey and their hardships, I cannot believe they would be a deliberate threat . . ."

"You are too trusting, Ristina! That has always been a weakness!" Susera grunted.

"As I was saying, I do not believe they would offer a *deliberate* threat, but there could be another explanation for their not being known to our neighbors. B'Elanna told me the new propulsion system they use is somewhat difficult to control. Also, when they come back into normal space, a great number of transformed particles can be detected around their ship. They call the particles 'malleotrons,' but there is no doubt about what they are actually detecting."

"Any sign of chronitons?" the Matriarch asked sharply.

"They say no. I've asked Crolay--the Master of the Batina--to check her own sensor records to see if any are found, but . . ."

"Tirgana! Tirgana!" The Matriarch looked up sharply and saw Nepay loping wildly down the corridor. "Nan is missing!"

"What!" The Matriarch and her aides stopped abruptly in their tracks as the tutor, gasping for breath, fell to her knees in front of them.

"I went to your chambers . . . At first, Rakila did not answer, and I began to worry . . . I called a guard to knock down the door, and just before he was going to do it, Rakila finally opened it. She assured me Nan was well, but I told her you ordered me to check on him . . . and he was not there! And when I asked Rakila where he could be, she could not answer me! And Majalay was not even there for me to ask her what she knew!"

"Susera, call Evasek to put all our forces on the alert." Since her consort's death and the discovery of Nerab's treachery, Evasek had been serving as interim War Leader. "Ristina, check on the position of Voyager! I want to ask Janeway and her Doctor about this! And Nepay . . ." Tirgana bent down and helped her old tutor up off her knees, "Where is Rakila now?"

"I left her in your apartments, Matriarch. I'm sorry . . . I didn't think . . . I had to get word to you and I . . ."

"Nepay, you have done exactly what you should have done. Now, bring me Rakila so we can find out what she knows. I want to find my son! Now go!"

***

"Bridge to Captain Janeway."

Janeway stirred, having been in the midst of a particularly deep sleep. "Janeway here," she said groggily. Her eyes still shut, she automatically reached across the bed. But instead of a warm body next to her, her fingers found only empty space. She raised herself to a sitting position and confirmed that she was indeed alone. Chakotay must have gotten up already.

"Captain, we're being hailed by the Matriarch's Science Minister," Ensign Lang said.

After the recent revelations about the Caephidians' identity--and Voyager's temporal displacement--Janeway was reluctant to have more contact with the aliens than absolutely necessary. It appeared, however, that she had no choice. "All right. I'll take it here, from my quarters," Janeway replied. She caught sight of the chronometer. Hastily, she threw on her robe and keyed the terminal.

The tall figure of the Caephidian Science Advisor, still dressed in her robes from the Gratitude Feast, appeared before her. "Janeway here. Good morning, Minister Ristina. Excuse me for not being dressed yet, but my crew was letting me sleep in this morning . . ."

"Your dress is of no consequence, Captain. What is important is that your ship is still here, in orbit around our Homeworld."

"We would have said good-bye if we planned to leave, Minister," Janeway said, smiling crookedly at first, but something about the stiff posture of the Caephidian alerted her. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes, Captain, very wrong. The Matriarch's son is missing."

Janeway took a moment to digest this. "You've obviously searched the palace grounds before contacting us, I presume."

"Of course. No one has seen him. Our sensors do not record his unique biosignature anywhere on this planet or in the fleet. And one of his nursemaids is also missing."

"You've scanned Voyager, too, I take it, and know we don't have them here."

"Regretfully, yes, we have--and without your permission. You understand our need for haste."

"I do. You wish to speak to our Doctor, then, to see what h . . . she knows?" Janeway's voice was grim.

"Yes, Captain. She was one of the last to see Nan."

"I'll have the Doctor contact you immediately." Inwardly, the captain sighed as she made a mental note to warn the Doctor he'd better get ready to reprise his 'Hepburn persona' for another performance. They didn't want the Caephidians any more upset than they already were.

***

Janeway strode onto the bridge several minutes later. "Report."

Chakotay stood up to yield the command chair to the captain. "We've consulted our logs. Five vessels left orbit during the night, two during the Feast itself, another two shortly after the Feast ended, and one that left later, about three hours ago."

"Anything inherently suspicious?" Janeway asked. "Or was this all just routine shipping?"

"The last one to leave was a small, fast courier vessel." Chakotay added meaningfully, "The Caephidians haven't been able to match it up with one of their vessels--it has an unknown registration. They're trying to trace it right now."

"Did you conduct any sensor sweeps at the time?" Janeway asked, though she didn't think it very likely.

"We didn't think to do one, sorry, Captain," Chakotay said. "We can't know for sure, but as it's the only one that hasn't responded to the Caephidians' hails for information, I'd say that's the one that has the boy on it."

"Have you advised the Caephidians of this?"

"I informed their Science Minister about five minutes ago, right after I put Voyager on yellow alert."

"And she spoke to you?" Janeway said in surprise.

"Yes, in fact, she approved of me being on duty." Chakotay gave a sardonic smile. "Apparently the Caephidians are on 'Warrior Alert,' so they weren't surprised to see a male in charge of a vessel equipped for battle."

Janeway took her seat and sat for a moment, fingers steepled in front of her chin, considering her options. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me, too."

"Captain, we're being hailed again by the Caephidians," Ensign Lang reported.

"On screen," Janeway said, getting to her feet. The Matriarch herself came on the viewscreen. At her side stood an adult male, the first such Caephidian Voyager had seen. His mottles and ridged skin clearly identified his species.

The Matriarch spoke first. "Captain Janeway, I've asked my War Leader Evasek to be here with us. I hope you do not mind."

"Not at all. My first officer informed me that you are on 'Warrior Alert,' as are we."

"Thank you, Captain." The Matriarch's voice changed, became softer and yet more urgent. "I have something to ask of you."

"Yes," Janeway said, closing her eyes for a few seconds. Somehow, she knew what the Matriarch was going to say.

"My son has disappeared, along with his nursemaid. I suspect foul play on the part of my enemy, the murderer of my consort, who almost certainly was the one who attacked our ships a few days ago. Our forces are on the alert, but they are scattered. I have limited resources close at hand. Can you please help us? It would give us an advantage, perhaps, since the traitor Nareb would not know much about your ship and its technology."

Janeway sighed deeply, feeling a knot in her stomach the size of a fist. After hesitating longer than she wished, she finally said, "I understand. Your reasoning is sound, but I will need to consult with my senior staff first, Matriarch. I hope you understand. I'll contact you shortly with our answer."

If the Matriarch was disappointed, she gave no outward sign. "Of course, Captain. I would tell you to take all the time you wish, but I cannot. Every nuta my son is missing, the more danger he will be in! As one mother to another, please say yes."

Janeway was saved from having to respond to the heartfelt plea as the Matriarch broke the connection abruptly. The viewscreen was once more occupied by the sight of the Caephidian homeworld rotating serenely in space.

"One mother to another," she murmured half to herself and knew that, in a way, it was true.

ACT 4

Janeway's voice betrayed very little of the inner conflict she was obviously feeling. "I don't need to remind the two of you just how tenuous our position has become."

"Indeed," replied Tuvok. He and Commander Chakotay were conferring with the captain in her Ready Room. "Even before the Matriarch's request for assistance in the matter of her kidnapped son, our position was already quite precarious."

"Aside from the issue of non-interference with a planet's internal affairs, there is the Temporal Prime Directive," Janeway agreed. "Even without it being a question of a critical cusp in a society's history, anything we do, no matter how minor, may have unforeseen results."

"Perhaps more information will help clarify things," Chakotay said, speaking for the first time. He leaned over the captain's desk and called up a data file on her computer terminal. "Once we became aware that we were dealing with Hirogen, and we pinpointed our temporal location to exactly 397 years in the past, I decided to do a little research."

"But how?" asked the captain.

"Donek," Chakotay replied simply.

Tuvok looked up sharply. "Indeed." More than a year earlier, Voyager had encountered a group of renegade holograms who had seized the Doctor and Lieutenant Torres, as part of their rebellion against non-photonic life forms. Donek had been one of the scientists involved in developing the optronic data core information--hologram technology--obtained by the Hirogen during their earlier takeover of Voyager. After the resolution of the crisis, Donek had downloaded some information regarding Hirogen culture into Voyager's databanks.

"What have you found?" asked the captain, looking at the file with interest.

"There's a lot of material to go through," Chakotay said, "So I'll just give you the highlights. Approximately four centuries ago, Hirogen society underwent a fundamental change, from a matriarchal society, to one in which the ritual of the Hunt was elevated from a mere symbolic representation of their ancient past as hunter-gatherers, to play a leading role in the culture. This was all due to just one individual, a War Leader by the name of Branan."

At the touch of another control, a picture of the fabled leader appeared. At first glance, he resembled a typical Alpha Hirogen, large and muscular, with mottled skin and skull ridges. Looking closer, Janeway noticed a prominent blue birthmark on the left side of his forehead, cutting across one of his brow ridges. "Branan...Nan! Of course!"

"Yes," Chakotay said. "The current Matriarch's son, Nan. Evidently he became the Consort of the next Matriarch, and that was his rise to power."

Janeway paused for a moment, deep in thought. "Tirgana must not have had any daughters, so a close female relative of hers was probably her heir." Suddenly, she nodded. "She has a niece, the daughter of her sister, who at this moment in time, is just a baby a few months old. She was present at the feast we attended. Her name is Bragila."

"Considering what we know of Caephidian naming conventions, it is obvious that Nan married his cousin and adopted the prefix of her name, adding it to his own, upon becoming Consort," Tuvok said. "It is fortuitous that the data Donek gave us included so much detail."

"He was the hero of his people, Tuvok," Chakotay said, his voice rising in excitement. "Of course they preserved the important details of his career. And mimicked him as much as they could. I'm willing to bet that the custom of the hunters daubing their ridges with paint before a hunt is an attempt to copy their great leader's most recognizable facial feature. Even the name of the race reflects the impact he had on them--Hirogen, 'the progeny of the hero.'"

Janeway closed her eyes. "That explains so much." She passed a tired hand over her face. "I don't suppose the records speak of any kidnapping that occurred when he was just a child, do they?"

"Sorry, Captain," the first officer said. "The historians were only concerned with what happened after he became an adult. There isn't even any mention of who his mother was, or that she had ruled before him."

"Clearly they were rewriting the details of their ancient past, not wanting to be reminded of the old matriarchy," Tuvok said. "Though there is evidence from the Hirogen we met, in our own time, that the females remained behind on their planets, attempting to hold the society together while the males went off to join the Hunt. The males still spoke of bringing trophies to impress the females." He looked over at the captain. She was staring silently at the screen once more, at the picture of the adult Branan.

"This just makes my decision even more difficult," she said at last. "I can't help but wonder what if the boy doesn't survive this incident now?"

"Doubtless another would have become War Leader in his stead," Tuvok said immediately. "According to the report of the away team, one of the eggs in the Ovarium on board the Batina belongs to the Matriarch--we can assume she had a second son."

"And if he were the one who married his cousin and became War Leader," Janeway said, "Perhaps he would not have had such a drastic effect on Hirogen culture."

"There is no way of knowing for sure," Tuvok objected. "We can ask what would happen to Hirogen culture if Nan didn't live to adulthood. But there's also the possibility that his brother could have had an even more adverse effect."

"A more adverse effect?" Janeway questioned. She gave a brief humorless laugh. "A society which turned away from the pursuit of science and the arts--remember the communications array we found, when we first encountered the Hirogen? Each relay station was powered by a microsingularity. The scientific knowledge needed to harness such a thing, the level of technological development this implies--and look at what their descendants became, just a few centuries later."

"And under another ruler it is possible the society would have experienced wars or invasion from an outside force," Tuvok objected.

"A good point," Chakotay said. His own face clouded over. "On the other hand, we may have already affected the course of Hirogen history, albeit unintentionally."

"What do you mean?" Janeway asked.

Chakotay said slowly, as if he himself did not care for the direction his thoughts were taking him. "This kidnapping is really the second attempt on Nan's life, don't you see? When we first encountered the Batina, it was under attack. What if the object of that attack was Nan, not the Matriarch herself?"

"The Caephidians gave us the impression that what Nareb hoped to gain was to become the Consort," Janeway said.

"And in the process he would have killed any other offspring the Matriarch already had, so there would be no question of his own progeny ruling after him," Chakotay responded.

"If she already had daughters, I could understand that," Janeway said. "But Nan is male."

"A male child who might grow up to take revenge against his father's murderer," Chakotay pointed out.

"So you're saying that because we intervened and prevented the boy from being killed in the first attack, that *we* caused Hirogen society to turn out this way?" She turned away. "It doesn't make sense."

Chakotay smiled tightly. "Braxton's law: A causes B, and B causes C. C in turn causes A to occur."

"So we're basically damned if we do and damned if we don't," the captain said with a sigh. "So much for upholding the Temporal Prime Directive. How do we know if we're obeying it or breaking it?"

Tuvok decided this had gone on long enough. "Captain, this type of reasoning is illogical. There is no way of knowing the might-have-beens, no way of gauging if our past or future actions ultimately bring about the demise of the Hirogen culture." He paused for a moment to allow his words to sink in. "Nor is it advisable to attempt to take matters into our own hands, and force the development of another society into a path which we deem to be more acceptable. It is not 'morality' to inflict one's own morals upon another culture." He did not add that this was the reasoning behind the development of the Prime Directive in the first place.

Janeway gave a quick shake of her head. "You're right, Tuvok. We'll get nowhere if we allow ourselves to get lost in endless possibilities. All I can do is decide the case on its own merits." Her mouth twisted. "This is a young child we're talking about--no matter what he may or may not become in the future." She nodded a dismissal. "Thank you, gentlemen. I'll let you know what I've decided shortly."

***

The Matriarch's voice was deadly quiet, yet carried a note of warning. "Tell me again, Rakila, from the beginning, what transpired. Beginning with last night until Nan was discovered missing."

The frightened nursemaid wrung her hands together in a gesture of appeal. "I have told you, Matriarch, everything I can remember. As I did the first time you questioned me."

"I wish to hear it again," Tirgana said with a calm she did not feel. "Perhaps there is some detail you overlooked that you may remember now. When did you last see Nan?"

"Last night. After the feast, Majalay and I brought him back to his bedchamber and put him to sleep. The Voyager Physician examined him, said he was all right, and then she left. Majalay tidied up the schoolroom while I stayed with Nan, and then when we saw he was sleeping peacefully the two of us went to our own quarters." Rakila added, "That is the last I saw of him. Nan usually does not rise until well after sunrise--there was no need for me to go into his bedchamber until it was time for him to wake."

The Matriarch tapped the base of her golden staff against the leg of her throne and considered the woman standing before her. "You didn't see him since the night?"

"No, Matriarch," Rakila said earnestly.

"And what about Majalay?"

"I parted from her late last night and have not seen her this morning, Matriarch. But it was my turn to care for Nan this morning--this is Majalay's free day."

The Matriarch leaned forward. "Free day or not, Majalay is nowhere to be found within the Palace or the grounds." She fell silent for a moment. "Both of you accompanied him to his chamber?"

"I have said so, Matriarch."

Tirgana glanced at the other courtiers in the room. "Nepay says that when she came in to check on Nan, having heard he was taken ill, you were not there. Only Majalay and the Voyager Physician were present."

"Of course I was there!" Rakila protested. "Nepay must be mistaken--oh, unless she came in while I had gone to tidy up the schoolroom, and therefore missed seeing her--"

"But you just said that Majalay tidied up the schoolroom!" the Matriarch exclaimed. "Now you claim that it was you, and that is why a reliable witness disputes your presence?"

Rakila flushed a deep crimson. "Er, I was mistaken, of course. Majalay straightened up the bedchamber while *I* had gone to--"

"Enough of these lies! I have already heard from the guards that you were nowhere to be found for the remainder of the evening, that you were nowhere near the Royal Apartments last night, and that it was not until this morning that you reappeared!"

"Matriarch, I swear--"

Tirgana rose from her throne, trembling with anger. "I have reason to believe that you know more than you are willing to reveal about my son's disappearance!"

"Matriarch, I beg of you," Rakila pleaded. "All my years of faithful service to you--"

"I will have the truth! Guards!"

At the Matriarch's command, two heavily armed guards strode forward and seized the unfortunate nursemaid, pulling her arms back roughly. As they laid hands on her Rakila shrieked, "No! I confess! Nan is--"

"Where is my child?" demanded the Matriarch, advancing on her.

"He is safe, I swear it," babbled Rakila in a frenzy of fear. "I would not be a party to anything that would harm a single scale on his head! I love your child as if he were my own!"

The Matriarch strode forward until her face was only inches away from Rakila's. "Where is he? Who took him? Majalay is involved as well, isn't she?"

Rakila burst into tears. "Yes," she sobbed noisily. "It was all Majalay's doing. She planned this, she carried it out. Last night she placed a drug in his food that would cause him to sleep, so he would not waken and cry out while he was being taken off-world."

"A drug?" The Matriarch's mind flashed back to what had happened at the feast, at Nan's mysterious 'attack.' "Is that what caused his illness? What Voyager's Physician thought was an allergic reaction?"

"We must have given him too much, but it was never our intention to harm him! And Majalay is there to care for him now, so he won't be in any distress--"

"Who is it? Who is behind this plot?" the Matriarch said angrily.

A sudden silence fell. Very faintly, Rakila mumbled, "Nareb."

The Matriarch felt her scales rise and her blood run cold. "That murderous b'zoa has my child!" She drew her arm back and slapped Rakila across the face as hard as she could.

Rakila screamed. "Matriarch, I beg of you--" She twisted desperately in the grasp of the guards.

It was with difficulty that the Matriarch refrained from slapping her again. But such a display would not avail at the moment. She turned to the Minister of the Interior. "Call out the Officers of the Hunt. I want a flotilla of ships dispatched immediately to track Nareb and hunt him down. And this time I will brook no delays! No excuses! I will have results!" The woman nodded and left.

Tirgana then turned her attention back to the traitor standing before her, the creature who was responsible for putting her child in harm's way, who was now writhing on the floor and sobbing for mercy. Following her gaze, another Minister said, "What about this one, Matriarch? What do you want done with her?"

"Take her to the dungeons," the Matriarch said coldly. "Wring her dry for every detail of information you can possibly get about where Nareb is headed."

"And then?"

'Mercy, Rakila begged for, presuming on her years of service to me and mine,' Tirgana thought. 'All right, I will show her mercy by not having her killed right here and now.' "Leave her there. I don't care if she rots there forever."

***

The doors to the Ready Room opened, and the captain stepped briskly onto the bridge. "Mr. Kim, send a message to the Matriarch, telling her that we will be joining the flotilla to track down Nareb's ship and retrieve her son. Mr. Paris, stand by to set a course, based on the coordinates the Caephidians will be sending us."

She sat down in her chair, and only then met her first officer's eyes.

"I see you've made your decision, Captain," he said quietly.

"My conscience won't permit me to do otherwise," she said. "And Tuvok is right--to the best of my ability, I have to uphold the Temporal Prime Directive."

"It's your decision," he answered. His gaze softened. "I can't say that I envy you."

She said with forced levity, "I always said that time travel gives me a headache."

He turned back to his console. "Too bad we're on the bridge right now," he murmured, his tone matching hers. "I know a very good time-honored method for getting rid of headaches."

"I'm sure you do," she said, checking the readouts in front of her.

"I've laid in the new course, Captain," Paris said. "Heading 347 mark 06."

"Warp 6, Mr. Paris," Janeway said. She leaned forward. "We've got a rendezvous that we can't miss."

ACT 5

The captain was still on the bridge, though Alpha shift had ended more than two hours ago. Beside her, Chakotay made no comment, understanding her need to be on the spot while the hunt for the Palla, Nareb's vessel, continued. He noted the grim determination in her face, the way she barely took her eyes off the main viewscreen.

The area of space they were passing through *was* very interesting, Chakotay had to admit. Astrometrics described it as a stellar nursery--a region where new stars were being born. He had personally never seen anything like it before, though his career had never emphasized the sciences the way Janeway's had. Even Tom Paris had remarked early on in the hunt--it had been more than six hours since they joined the Caephidian flotilla, Chakotay realized in surprise--about having once come across a similar phenomenon, a subspace eddy at the confluence of space and subspace. Those churning energies Paris had encountered had wreaked havoc whenever they'd appeared in normal space; he supposed they were lucky these vortexes did not seem to have the same destructive effect.

"Message from the lead Caephidian ship, Captain," Kim said. He was another one who should have gone off duty already. Chakotay considered using his authority as first officer, but reluctantly decided against it. Even though the full significance of Voyager's current mission was not widely known, the crew, especially the senior staff, were aware of the ship's displacement; they were keenly aware as well that every move they made could have rippling effects through time.

"Go ahead," the captain said.

The features of Evasek, the commander loyal to the Matriarch, appeared. "Nareb's ship has been detected, Captain, in orbit around a small moon. I'm transferring the coordinates to you now."

"How do you want to proceed?" Janeway asked.

"Two of my ships are going to attempt a flanking operation, while the other three prepare for a frontal assault."

This was a Caephidian operation, Chakotay thought once again. It was obvious that Janeway wasn't entirely happy with the battle plan, but equally obvious she was not going to voice any objection unless it concerned something major.

"Understood," she said evenly. "What do you want Voyager to do?"

"It is my hope that once he sees himself surrounded, Nareb will realize he has nothing further to gain. If he once wished to use the Matriarch's son as a bargaining chip, he will not cause any harm to the boy." Evasek paused. "But it may very well be that Nareb will no longer consider that he has anything left to lose. You are strangers to him; he is not conversant with the strengths and weaknesses of your vessel. You may be able to succeed where we fail."

Janeway nodded, understanding what Evasek had not put into words. "We'll do our best," she said. "Voyager out."

The system was a sparse one, with only four planets altogether. Two of them were gas giants, while a third, the one closest to the sun, was an airless rock. But the remaining planet had a number of class M moons, and it was there that Nareb had chosen to make his stand.

"Shields up," Janeway said crisply.

Tuvok confirmed the order and added, "Weapons systems fully charged, Captain."

"Janeway to Engineering."

"Torres here." The chief engineer sounded distracted; every available crewman had been working round the clock trying to decipher what had gone wrong with the slipstream, and more importantly, how to reverse the temporal displacement.

"Prepare to bring the Zornon shielding on-line, Lieutenant."

The Zornon technology, in addition to giving them a little extra protection from the buffeting of the unstable energy streams in this region, could also act as a temporary cloaking device. The few seconds of invisibility it would give Voyager would be just enough to slip under the sensor net of the Palla.

"Aye, Captain," Torres responded.

Janeway stood. "Mr. Paris, standby. Let's see if things go according to Evasek's plan," she said. "Otherwise, we'll go in and--"

"Captain! The Palla is firing on the lead ship of the flotilla!" said Kim.

"Damn," Janeway said. "Nareb is determined to make this harder than it has to be!"

"Can't really blame him, though, can you?" Chakotay said grimly. "He knows the game's over. And if he can't win, he's going to bring as many of his attackers down with him as possible." He exchanged glances with the captain; he knew her primary concern was for Nareb's hostage.

The captain came to a decision. "All right, we're going in. Now. Before anything drastic happens."

Paris' hands were flying over his controls, preparing to execute the maneuver.

"The Palla is targeting Evasek's ship again," Tuvok said. "The flotilla is returning fire."

"Open a channel to Evasek," Janeway said. Onscreen, they watched as one of the flotilla ships flared and then was replaced by floating debris. From the looks of things, the Palla was taking its share of hits, and sustaining damage, as well.

"No response," Kim said. "Interference from the plasma discharges is playing havoc with communications."

"It's possible that Nareb couldn't surrender even if he wanted to," Chakotay said in alarm.

Janeway stiffened. "Tom..."

"We should be within range in another twenty seconds," Paris said.

"Harry, stand by to beam--" the rest of the captain's words were lost as a brilliant explosion lit up the screen.

"What was that?" demanded Chakotay.

Tuvok's voice sounded unnaturally loud in the silence that followed. "That," he said, "was the Palla. It's been completely destroyed."

***

The captain recovered before the rest of the bridge crew. "Mr. Tuvok," she said, "scan the vicinity and see if you detect any life signs."

Several long moments passed. "I am not reading any signs of survivors within the debris field, Captain," the Vulcan replied.

Janeway joined him at the tactical station. "Nothing?" she persisted. "No escape pods?"

"Radiation levels, and interference from the plasma discharges are making it difficult to determine."

The stubborn look in her eyes brooked no argument; Janeway had never been one to accept defeat easily. "Scan the nearest moon."

Tuvok raised a brow but did not argue. With the exception of the captain and first officer, no one knew better than he the enormity of what had just occurred. If Nan died as a child, who knew what kind of reality Voyager would encounter, even assuming they would be able to return to their own time.

"If they did manage to release an escape pod, what would be the most likely trajectory?" the captain asked.

"That would lead to the Northern hemisphere, Captain," Kim answered, giving up on trying to raise Evasek's vessel or any of the other surviving Caephidian ships. He joined in the sensor sweep of the moon instead. He stared at his readout. "I could be wrong, but I think I'm picking up signs of a metal shell...duranium alloy."

"Definitely refined metal," confirmed Tuvok a minute later. "It may very well be a pod. Faint residuals of a trail can be detected leading to it."

Janeway didn't relax visibly. Not yet. "Mr. Tuvok, take a security detail down there."

***

The landing party materialized onto roughly flat terrain, pocked with caves and sinkholes. The ground was barren and stony, with only a thin surface coating of soil. In the distance, they could see the foothills of a mountain range.

Tuvok cocked his head. "The escape pod is roughly a kilometer in that direction."

"Looks like they crash-landed in the hills," Ayala said, checking his tricorder. "They'd have done better to aim for the plains."

"It may very well be they had no choice in the matter," Tuvok answered. He set off in the lead, with the rest of the team following closely behind, phasers out and alert for trouble.

As they got closer, the shape of the escape pod became visible. Painted the same dun color as the surrounding rocks, it had been difficult to discern from a distance. Some wreckage was strewn around the base of a cliff, but the main part of the pod itself appeared to be mostly intact.

"I'm picking up two life signs, one very weak," Trish Gallagher said. Her hand went to her medikit.

"I will go in first," Tuvok said, "Ayala, Harper, cover me."

Tuvok ducked his head to enter the pod. Although the exterior hadn't been too badly torn up, inside the damage was much more apparent. Shredded metal and wires were everywhere. Coolant seeped from smashed wall panels, pooling on the floor.

A soft moan, followed by a whimper, attracted his attention. Pushing aside the remnants of a bulkhead, he saw them. A woman, unconscious, was lying in an unnatural position on the floor. Huddled in a miserable heap next to her was a small boy. Tears glistened wetly on his face, which was red and blotchy from crying, except for the large prominent birthmark on his forehead.

Tuvok got down on his knees and crawled over to the boy. "Do not be afraid, Nan, I will take you back to your mother."

Nan looked at him for a moment, and then held up his arms. Tuvok lifted the child and carried him outside.

***

The adrenaline rush of the chase was over, but Tom was reluctant to relinquish the helm to Lora Jenkins, who was prowling around the rear bridge stations waiting to relieve him.

Tom wasn't at all tired. He felt a little like he'd run a sprint when he'd been training for a marathon. There had been plenty to keep his heart racing. The blast of the Palla had destroyed the two ships from Evasek's flotilla that had tried the flanking maneuver and damaged the rest of the Caephidian warrior's small fleet as well. The other ships were limping home behind Voyager at a modest warp while their crews worked on repairing the damage.

Close brushes with death always seemed to invigorate Tom. It had happened often enough in the past eight years that he'd learned to just ride along with it--almost like surfing the slipstream, until his mind and body finally gave up and told him to get some rest.

Neither were sending him that message now, although he might have gone off duty if his family would be there waiting for him. B'Elanna was hard at work in engineering, trying to figure out a way to travel forward to their own time again. She probably wouldn't be home for hours. Miral always stayed in sickbay during emergencies, since it was deemed the safest part of the ship. When he'd called the Doctor about picking her up, though, the EMH told him she had just begun her nap. Miral would be as cranky as ... well, she'd be really cranky if he picked her up now. Waiting an hour or so for her to get in a decent nap would be better for all of them, in the long run. So he'd stayed on duty.

At one point during the wild ride after the Palla, some brief perception brushed into his consciousness, only to be placed into his "think about this later, when there's no emergency" memory file. Too bad he couldn't remember exactly where that memory was right now, but it tickled the back of his brain.

Then, when his fingers flicked over his console to change Voyager's heading slightly to avoid one of the nascent singularities that was in their path, Tom remembered. During the chase, he'd gotten close enough to one of those little anomalies to have to do the same thing, compensating for the gravitational influence of one of the baby stars. In essence, he'd controlled a skid in space that could have thrown them way off course. He'd tried something like it once before, but with less success. That was the time the shuttle he was flying with Tuvok and the Doctor fell into the gravity well of a subspace pocket. And it was also a little like the time years before when he'd "surfed" over the gravity wake formed by a gravitational eddy in an area of space where they erupted like the plains of the American mid-continent spawned tornadoes centuries ago. . .

Wait a minute. Those gravitational anomalies had also sucked him into subspace. He'd tried but couldn't get out of the path . . . and if those eddies had been powerful enough to destroy an alien space station and strong enough to drag his shuttle into subspace, why couldn't the gravitational influence of one of these little microsingularities disrupt their path in the slipstream? They'd had to alter their course in normal space so their warp bubble wouldn't collapse; couldn't the same phenomenon cause Voyager to slip off the slipstream wave, just a little? It wouldn't take much of a slip to cause a big problem. They'd learned that long ago, from the simulations they'd run before they'd attempted to use the slipstream drive the first time. They'd found that the slightest course deviation in slipstream could be disastrous. That's why, even after all their experience with the new, improved version, they weren't taking any chances with traveling more than two minutes in the slipstream. The Zornon Cloak might not be able to compensate for it.

That was it. It had to be.

"Tom, is there a problem? What's our status?"

"Huh?" Tom hadn't even realized he'd spoken his last thought aloud until the captain's question alerted him. He turned his head to look back towards her.

"I'm sorry, Captain; but I think I just figured out why we left the slipstream too soon. If I'm right, I need to let B'Elanna and Joe know immediately. Request permission to go to engineering."

"Ensign Jenkins, take the helm," Janeway ordered, as Tom fairly leaped to his feet. "And Tom--I hope you're right."

***

"Okay. So if the wave collapsed, why didn't Voyager fall apart, the way the simulations said she would three years ago? Instead we went back four centuries in time." A weary B'Elanna folded her hands over her chest, frustrated that the math wasn't working out the way she expected.

"I already told you! I *don't* know why we went back in time! But there must be an explanation. It happened, so it must be possible!" Tom cried out, almost as frustrated and tired. "You have to agree that bumping into a microsingularity explains our going off course."

"Bumping us off course does make sense, of course," Joe said, trying to placate both his superior officer and her husband. "But traveling through time--that's really hard to explain."

Harry Kim mused, "I don't think it's a coincidence there are so many microsingularities around here. And just because we haven't seen any actual subspace eddies or storms in the area, it doesn't mean they don't occur." He peered at the screen displaying the astrometrics readouts once again.

Sam moved closer to take a look for herself. "But if we traveled in time, shouldn't we find evidence of chroniton particles somewhere?" she asked.

There was no reply to her query. At that moment, Neelix entered engineering, pushing a large cart. "Well, well, well," he said cheerily. "I knew I'd find you here, Sarexa, and I had a hunch you'd be surrounded by engineers." He beamed at the group crowded inside B'Elanna's "office" area, who included Harry Kim, Samantha Wildman, Noah Lessing, Marla Gilmore, and seven other engineers. The only ones missing where those on duty at the moment in the main part of engineering or asleep because they were assigned to gamma shift. "Since most of you missed dinner, I thought I'd bring you a little snack. A little 'pick-me-up' for your brainstorming session."

Welcoming the distraction of food, the members of the session crowded around Neelix's cart. "Easy, there's plenty for everyone," Neelix said, trying and failing to conceal his delight at his reception. He glanced around. "Is the captain here? I've brought plenty of coffee --including an entire pot of her favorite blend."

"Not yet, but give her time," Tom said, grabbing for a sandwich. "She's bound to notice we're all missing, and I'll bet she can smell that coffee on the bridge." He took a large mouthful. "Umm. This is a pretty good sandwich. What's in it?"

"Faeranek. It's a Caephidian delicacy. And these pockets are Blinerovi. I understand the Caephidians call them 'brain food.'" Marla hesitated in the act of reaching for one, clearly wondering if the Caephidians meant the phrase literally. Harry chuckled but Neelix took no notice. "Did everyone get food? Lieutenant Carey? Maybe it can help you solve the problem at hand."

"I think it'll take more than a snack, Neelix, but thanks for thinking of this," Joe said as he picked up a small pocket of dough and cautiously took a bite. "Mmm. Not bad at all."

As Neelix moved through the group, distributing sandwiches, treats and coffee, Naomi came into engineering. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, Honey," Sam replied, smiling affectionately at her daughter's greeting.

"Going to be another long night?" Naomi grabbed one of the dough pockets as Neelix passed by her.

"I'm afraid so," her mother said. "Tom has a great explanation for *what* happened, but we haven't been able to figure out why yet so we can take advantage of it."

Tom brushed some crumbs off the front of his uniform. "Unfortunately, I don't think I can stick around to work on it any more. The Chief Engineer has to stay, but it's way past time to pick up Miral. The Doc volunteered to keep her again, and if I don't get to Sickbay soon, he'll be whining about my 'irresponsible fatherhood' for the next week."

"You don't have to worry about her," Naomi said. "Miral had a really long nap, and Icheb and I picked her up for you about half an hour ago. I was supposed to tell you that as soon as I came in! Sorry! When I left the two of them, 'Uncle Icheb' was feeding Miral her dinner."

"Ah, well, then, I'm *really* going to be needed in a few minutes. It's usually diaper-changing time right after dinner," Tom said, leaning down to buss his wife on the cheek.

"I know," Naomi confided to her mother with a mischievous grin. "That's why I left her with Icheb! It's about time he learned how to do it himself instead of letting me do it all the time!"

"Sorry to see you leave, Tom," Neelix remarked. "I was hoping we could all work on the slipstream problem, the way we did for the Warp Ten Project."

B'Elanna patted his shoulder sympathetically. "If we come up with any ideas, we'll call you on the comm, Flyboy."

"Thanks," Tom said, reluctant to leave, though he knew he should. He began edging his way toward the door.

"What was the 'Warp Ten Project'?" Noah asked, exchanging puzzled glances with Marla.

Tom stopped but didn't turn around. "Ah, the Warp Ten Project," he sighed. "Those were the days." Behind him he heard someone say softly, "Lizard Boy."

"I heard that, Mulcahey!" the pilot said, turning towards the young man who shrugged, the picture of innocence. Tom winced. There was a lot about that time he'd prefer not to dwell on, especially his 'abduction' of the captain, the transformation they'd both undergone--and their resulting offspring. Even though he'd had no say in the decision, ever since Miral's birth he'd found it particularly difficult to think about leaving his first progeny behind in that swamp. How was he ever going to explain that one to her?

"We can tell you all about that later," Neelix interjected. "The important thing is that we made a real breakthrough from someone saying something that everyone else knew but had taken for granted."

"Neelix was our catalyst," Harry agreed. He gave Marla a sympathetic smile and mouthed, "I'll tell you later."

"So, what's the obvious thing we're missing now?" Marla asked.

"If we knew that, we'd already have solved the puzzle," Sue Nicoletti answered.

"Let's go back to basics," Neelix said. "The slipstream is a form of folded space technology, right? And all the folded space technologies alter space and/or time . . ."

Mulcahey rolled his eyes. "That's the basics, all right. Now that we've got *that* established . . ."

"Wait a minute . . . wait just a minute . . . Neelix, I think you've done it again!" Tom said, suddenly excited.

"I have?"

"Enlighten us, Tom," B'Elanna stared at her husband in disbelief, experiencing a feeling of *déjà vu.* This was exactly what had happened during the Warp Ten Project.

Tom came back to the group and sat down once more. "Let's look at folded space technologies," he replied. "They do alter space . . . and time! We always forget that, because the reason we use them is to jump ahead in space faster than the Einsteinian physics of normal space permit us to. But there is definitely a time-altering effect we take advantage of, in all of them."

Harry immediately latched onto Tom's train of thought. "That's right! What is a transwarp tunnel, anyway, but a 'hole' we fall through from one part of space to another. What really happens is that normal time has very little meaning inside the conduit."

"And all a warp drive does is form a bubble inside which space--and time--are distorted so a ship can travel faster than light. That's basic warp drive theory!" Naomi added, her face glowing with excitement.

Joe nodded, but then immediately frowned. "That ship of Steth's that folded space. It doesn't quite fit your theory, Tom," he pointed out.

Tom winced again. That body-stealing alien Steth--or whatever his/her real name was. That was another subject he disliked thinking about lately.

"We don't *know* it fits the theory, but we don't really understand how it works very well," B'Elanna said; she was also more than a little reluctant to discuss Steth. "What it does is put 'pleats' into a given area of space. The ship can fly to point A, B and C quickly because they are suddenly close to one another, along the folds of the pleats."

"Right," Tom added. "The propulsion drive of that ship couldn't even make full impulse, but the ship was still fast. It didn't need to fly far--only a short distance along a 'pleat,' as you described them. For all we know, the pleats are a time distortion, not of space--we just see it that way because of the end result."

"So you're saying that the slipstream wave might be a wave of time?" Marla asked.

"It could be," Tom said. "We've seen similar phenomena. Remember when we were stuck in orbit over the planet with the accelerated time rate? We watched whole civilizations rise and fall in what was only a few hours to us. Or that time Tuvok, the Doc and I got stuck in the subspace pocket? We thought we were there for months, but to everyone on Voyager, we were only missing for a day or so."

Marla and Noah exchanged looks once more. Sue noticed and said, "I think that might have happened before Marla and Noah came on board, Tom. Even so, both of those simply changed our perception of the rate of time. But his time we went backwards, even though there's no sign of any chronitons around here."

"Are we sure there's no sign of any chronitons?" B'Elanna suddenly asked excitedly. "What about these malleotrons we keep detecting?"

"Malleotrons are particles associated with certain interstellar phenomena, including singularities and microsingularities . . ." Naomi recited dutifully, in her best Academy sing-song.

"Very good. And what are the properties of said particles, Cadet Wildman?" asked Harry. He put down his coffee cup and called up a display of a starship in slipstream. Onscreen, the exterior of the ship glowed.

Naomi bit her lip in concentration. "Well, I . . . uh, they have variable properties, according to the energy levels they've been subject to, temperature, proximity to a microsingularity, etc. They're always in a state of flux. That's why Captain Archer's crew called them malleotrons when they first discovered them."

"Exactly, Cadet! They are considered to be one particle, but they don't always look the same. And we've been detecting them sloughing off the ship every time we came out of the slipstream drive . . ."

"And never once considered whether they were important to the process," B'Elanna finished for Tom. "In fact, I'm willing to bet they are the end result of the process! If we measure the quantity of malleotrons we've found coming off our ship and compare them to the levels of chronitons we'd expect to find after a time travel trip equivalent to our slipstream journey, I wonder what we'd find?"

"I believe you would find a relationship, although the Borg did not pursue the technology, favoring the use of transwarp conduits instead," Sarexa observed. She had been largely silent up till now. "But that doesn't explain why we went backwards in time on this occasion when we never had such a problem before."

"Wave action, Sarexa, and turbulence. What if the 'tunnel' we see is like the pipeline of a wave? We perch ourselves on the crest in just the right way, we get pulled along in the direction of the wave and slide up onto the beach, pretty as you please. If we don't catch it right, we get caught in the undertow and pulled inside. We wipe out, popping out of the wave at a wild angle and . . ." Tom halted the flow of his words as a dozen engineers and science types gaped open mouthed at him. "Go look up wave action and surfing.

Trust me, the physics are fascinating and apply to a lot more than just salt water."

"If you'd lose the twentieth-century surfer slang and talk Standard, maybe they'd know what you were talking about, Tom." B'Elanna briskly added, "But 'looking it up' is exactly what we need to do." She got to her feet and began briskly snapping out orders. "We're going to split up into teams. Sarexa, Marla, Noah: compare the levels of chronitons in known time travel situations with the volume of malleotrons we've measured coming out of our slipstream jumps. Mulcahey, Nicoletti, Wildman, Cadet Wildman: check the records for descriptions of the effect different kinds of energy have on the flux rates of malleotrons. See if you can find anything we can use. Nozawa, Tabor, Powell, McMinn: look at our energy consumption levels for each jump--especially the ones that were longer or shorter than two minutes."

"B'Elanna, Joe and I will look at the data from the time we encountered Captain Braxton's time ship," Harry offered. "His ship was able to jump into various time periods. I don't think we ever bothered to check if our sensors detected malleotrons as well as chronitons coming off his ship."

"Good idea, Harry. And look into those examples Tom just gave about time varying in rate with . . ."

The door to engineering opened. Icheb called out, "Tom? B'Elanna?" as he entered engineering, gingerly carrying Miral and her diaper bag. Miral was wearing only a T-shirt and a diaper, and the latter was inexpertly fastened around her waist, to say the least. It looked as though it was going to fall off any second.

"Icheb! I'm sorry! I knew you'd be needing help right about now, but I got all caught up . . . . Come here, baby," Tom exclaimed to his daughter, who was calling out "Dada!" as she scrambled into his arms.

A visibly relieved Icheb handed over the diaper bag. "I cleaned her up, but was uncertain as to the proper way to fasten the new diaper." Naomi giggled.

"Maybe we should add diaper-changing to your curriculum, Icheb," Tom said, already rectifying the matter. "There you are, honey," he said to his daughter. He hoisted her to his shoulder and turned back to his adoptive brother. "In the meantime, maybe you can help with a less mystifying problem--the slipstream."

B'Elanna gave Tom a piercing look and said, "We do need your help, Icheb, to evaluate all the data and to finish up the equations so we can use them to get us back 'on time.' " She smiled. "The lessons in diaper changing can wait till later."

***

"Cappa!" Miral announced as Captain Janeway walked into engineering.

"What are you still doing awake, little Miss Paris? It's very late!" admonished Janeway with a wagging finger that Miral immediately tried to grab. The baby was laughing, but her chubby hand ended up rubbing at her eye after it failed to make contact with the captain's finger.

"I was just taking her home, Captain. She's ready for bed, and to tell you the truth, so am I," Tom confided. Turning to his wife, he added, "Don't be too long tonight."

"As soon as I give my report to the captain, I'll be there, too. Good night, Miral." B'Elanna kissed her baby and joined her team of engineers, who were waving to Miral as her father carried her through the doors of engineering. As soon as her family was out of sight, B'Elanna turned to the captain, all business once more. "We've got a theory about what happened, Captain, and we've formulated a plan to get back to our own century."

Accepting a cup of coffee from Neelix, Janeway walked to the display where many of the engineers and Harry Kim were standing. Quickly, B'Elanna presented what they'd discovered to the captain. "Just as Tom suspected, we must have been thrown out of slipstream by one of the tiny microsingularities in our path. We're lucky we were already about to leave the slipstream when it occurred, or Tom might have lost control of the helm."

"I don't even want to think about what might have happened if he hadn't held us on course," Harry said with a grimace.

"Except it wasn't the right course because of the oscillation of the wave. And, thanks to the malleotrons, we not only suffered a time distortion but were thrown backwards in time," Joe explained.

Janeway considered. "Are you trying to tell me slipstream technology is the basis of practical time travel?"

"Maybe that's why Captain Braxton needed to return us to the Delta Quadrant the time we went back to 1996 Earth, Captain," Sam said. "We still had things we needed to accomplish. It's possible one of those things was inventing the technology his ship was based upon . . . "

Janeway groaned and pressed her hand to her temple. "I'm getting a headache just thinking about it."

"Let's concentrate on the business at hand," B'Elanna said firmly. "Captain, we want to show you our plan for getting back home. We'll need to refit the Bussard collectors to scoop up malleotrons."

"The malleotrons are the key?"

"Yes, Captain. We compared the ratio of chronitons and malleotrons to our jumps and found out they're equivalent to each other. Apparently that's what the wave is made from. We need to boost the malleotron levels so we can exit the wave at exactly the right spot--right temporal spot--sorry! We'll need a

lot of energy so they can behave like chronitons--or maybe decay into chronitons."

"There are still a lot of unknowns, " Janeway pointed out.

"There are," B'Elanna admitted. "But we're sure that this will work, Captain."

The captain put down her coffee cup and said decisively, "Then let's do it. The faster we can get out of the past and back to our own time, the better I'm going to feel."

"No more headaches?" Joe murmured. He looked abashed when he realized the captain had heard him.

"Not until the next temporal paradox shows up, anyway, Mr. Carey," Janeway admitted with a low chuckle.

***

//Captain's log, supplemental. The Matriarch's son is safe and sound and we have taken our leave of the Caephidians. They were most generous in offering us further assistance, including navigation and star charts. Before it became clear that we had traveled into the past, I had admitted that we were not where we expected to be. Fortunately, we were able to get away without specifying just how 'lost' we were. I am fairly certain that none of our actions affected the timestream. Of course, we have no way of knowing for sure until we get back to our own time. And that is our next challenge.//

Janeway glanced around the bridge. "Status, Mr. Kim?"

"All departments reporting ready, Captain," Harry replied.

"Very good," Janeway said. She turned toward the engineering station. "Lieutenant Torres?"

B'Elanna studied her controls for a moment. "All set, Captain."

"Mr. Paris, lay in a course," Janeway said. She stood and walked over to the main viewscreen, where the turbulent subspace eddies and plasma streams were beckoning.

"Aye, Captain."

"Ahead nice and steady, Tom, full impulse."

"The Bussard collectors are working," Harry reported. "Beginning to accumulate malleotron particles."

"How soon will we reach critical concentration?" Chakotay asked, checking his own readouts.

"At this rate, in another 4.7 minutes," B'Elanna said. She opened a channel to Engineering. "Joe, are you keeping an eye on the energy frequencies?"

"Yes, Lieutenant," came the immediate response. "I'll let you know the instant the conditions match."

"Don't initiate slipstream until I say so," B'Elanna cautioned.

Onscreen, a large plasma flare lanced out, briefly enveloping the ship in its embrace. "Shields are holding, Captain," Tuvok said calmly.

Janeway tore her eyes away from the dancing arcs of light. "Hull stresses?"

"Within acceptable limits," Tuvok said.

"Malleotron concentrations?"

"Almost there, Captain," B'Elanna said, her voice steady. "The Bussards are working at full capacity."

"Carey to Bridge. The energy frequencies are within 0.02 percent."

Janeway glanced at her chief engineer, who nodded. "Mr. Paris, bring our speed up to warp four. Lieutenant Torres, initiate slipstream."

"Aye, Captain," came the chorus of voices.

Janeway sat down in the center seat. The tension in the air was palpable.

The image on the viewscreen changed. A pulsing white dot formed, grew until it had expanded to fill nearly the entire screen. Then it burst apart and, almost immediately, the shards came together in a sparkling network that coiled and twisted in on itself.

"The slipstream 'tunnel' has formed," B'Elanna announced, a bit unnecessarily. She checked her readings once more. "It appears to be stable."

"Slipstream velocities confirmed," Tom said. "She's going smoothly."

"Time?" Chakotay said, his voice not quite as steady as usual.

"Twenty one seconds so far," Harry said.

"Still stable," B'Elanna said in a hushed tone. There were no further sounds, other than Harry's terse time checks.

"Past the one minute mark now... 70 seconds... 80...90...100...110...115.."

"Shut down the drive, and prepare to exit into normal space!" Janeway ordered sharply.

The lacy 'tunnel' on the screen appeared to flatten slightly; then the strands parted. The blackness of regular space could be seen in patches, which gradually grew bigger. And then the few remaining strands were gone.

"We've exited into normal space," Harry said. He was silent for a moment, studying his panel. "We're still in the Delta Quadrant, Captain."

Janeway's lips tightened, although she hadn't expected it to be otherwise. *Where* was not as important as *when*, however. She stabbed at her comm panel. "Bridge to Astrometrics. How far back have we traveled?"

"Astrometrics here," Megan Delaney replied. "According to the star positions, we're once more within our proper time frame."

An audible sigh of relief swept the bridge, but the captain wasn't ready to relax yet. 'Proper time frame' could mean anything from a day to several decades. "How close are we?"

"I can't give you an exact reading yet, Captain, but it looks like we've arrived within a few weeks of our last attempt at slipstream."

Janeway exhaled deeply. That was all she needed to hear.

***

Chakotay was lounging on the couch when Janeway came out of the bedroom. She had exchanged her uniform for a tunic and leggings in a soft shade of blue and looked more relaxed. "Feeling better?" he asked.

She sighed. "I don't know how I'd feel if I saw the Caephidian--that is, Hirogen--homeworld now, knowing I'm responsible for any negative changes." She made a face. "That once vibrant planet..."

Chakotay cocked an eyebrow at her. "Any changes, adverse or not, aren't your fault, Kathryn. You were following the dictates of the Temporal Prime Directive. And who's to say the homeworld itself would be so badly off? We never did encounter any modern-day Hirogen females, you know."

"I know." She gave him a rueful smile. "Not that I really want to go and find out, you understand. There are some things that perhaps we're better off not knowing."

"Exactly," he said. "So, are you feeling better?" he asked again.

"Now that we're back more or less where we belong?" she said with another smile, a genuine one this time. "Most definitely." She sat down next to him and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Well, it's not *exactly* where we were before--we do have some lost ground to make up."

He slipped his free arm around her. "Not to mention time," he said, alluding to the fact that they hadn't returned precisely to the point at which they had left. But considering they had been nearly 400 years in the past, being off by three weeks was close enough for him.

She made a face. "Time travel always did give me a headache, you know that." She glanced down at his hand, caressing her side. "I could ask you the same question."

He paused in the act of slipping his hand under her tunic. "Has anything in my behavior this evening led you to believe that I've got a headache?"

"No."

"Good." He bent his head and kissed her.

She returned the kiss enthusiastically, but then said, "I meant, are you feeling better? You've seemed rather out of sorts lately."

"This was just a very stressful period, Kathryn, with the slipstream problem and not being sure if our actions would affect history," he said evasively, not quite meeting her eyes.

She moved back a little and waited. "Even before we realized we were displaced in time--you were worrying about being displaced in other ways," she said at last. "Or rather, finding your place."

He smiled wryly. No, Kathryn was never one for beating around the bush. "That's a good way of putting it."

She shook her head slowly, a little sadly. "And am I right in assuming it has to do with a lot more than just wondering about your fate as a Maquis?" When he didn't object, she went on, "Is it the 'first officer syndrome'?"

He was quiet for a moment. "What do you mean by that?"

"The feeling of carrying heavy responsibility, but without the corresponding sense of actually making a difference. Because even though you do your damnedest, try to come up with all the pertinent information, all possible options, when all is said and done, it's the captain who makes the final decision. And the captain who receives the praise or blame."

"That's not--"

She caught his gaze in her own. "I can understanding your feeling ineffectual--" She stopped and bit her lip. "No, that's not quite what I meant. Because you have never been ineffectual--it's not just platitudes when I tell you that I need you, that I rely on you, that I don't know how I could have managed to get the ship to this point without you." Her voice was low and insistent. "I mean it, Chakotay."

"I know that you do, that it's not just lip service with you." He sighed. "But unfortunately, there is a grain of truth in what you said before, about being effective. I guess I have been wondering if my contributions are truly meaningful, if I was really doing anything worthwhile. Or if you were only saying that because of your feelings for me." He gave her a rueful look. "Sorry."

"I understand. I was a first officer once, too, you know." She got up and headed over to the replicator. "And the best ones go on sooner or later to their own commands. More than any other position, first officer is a transitory posting on a starship, an apprenticeship for one's own command. It's very rare to have the same command team together for so long, unless of course the ship happens to be called the Enterprise." She caught his answering smile. "But from the captain's point of view, such an arrangement is desirable, because a good and trusted second in command is truly indispensable. And often hard to find." She handed him a steaming cup of liquid.

He took a moment to savor the herbal tea before answering. "I had my own command in the Maquis. So yes, I know what you're saying. But I don't know if I have any ambitions for my own command in Starfleet anymore. Or if I ever did."

She settled herself on the couch once more, her feet tucked up under her, a cup of her own in her hands. "If you had, you'd never have agreed to serve under me?"

"It's hard to say," he answered thoughtfully. "After all, the circumstances were certainly unique--my ship was destroyed and Voyager represented the only way home." He put his cup down and reached out to take her hand. "But more importantly, I knew if I threw in my lot with you I'd never regret it."

She looked down at their clasped hands. "Have you? Regretted it, I mean."

"No, I haven't. And I don't regret throwing my lot in with you another way. I meant it when I pledged myself to you."

"And I to you," she said softly. Almost to herself, she added, "We certainly waited long enough."

"That wasn't entirely my doing, you know," he couldn't help saying with a chuckle.

She chuckled as well, while at the same time looking slightly embarrassed. "I know."

He quickly sobered. "But at the same time, our being involved, well, it's just one more complicating factor, one more unknown in what's going to happen next."

She knew he was still thinking about their eventual return to Earth. "As a very wise man once told me," she reminded him, "it's important that we don't get so caught up in worrying about the future that we forget to live in the present."

"Or caught up brooding about the past," he countered.

"Exactly," she said, acknowledging his thrust. "But one of the few things I am sure about is that no matter what the future holds, neither of us is going to face it alone."

"Agreed," he said, pulling her into his arms once more. "And now that's enough talk, and worry, for one night," he murmured against her neck.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. "See, Commander, I said you always make the best suggestions."

Epilogue

"The malleotron particles are related to chronitons, then?"

"Yes, Matriarch," Ristina agreed. "Under certain conditions, malleotrons decay into chronitons."

Tirgana nodded. "Did Captain Janeway show any evidence of realizing this?"

"No, Matriarch. I do not believe so. I do not know if they even suspected they have traveled in time as well as out of their expected flight path. Shall we contact them to let them know? They will remain in close enough proximity to the communications network for some time yet. They will be surprised to find out they are not when they expected to be."

Tirgana thought about the hesitancy the Captain had started to show at about the time they rescued Nan. "Don't bother. I have reason to believe they know exactly when they are."

"But if they did not realize that malleotrons and chronitons are related, how could they?" Susera asked.

The Matriarch answered "The Voyager crew have sophisticated astrological observation equipment. They would surely realize that the stars were displaced from where they expect them to be. The question is, when were they from? The past, or the future?"

"The future, certainly," Ristina, the science advisor, answered. "It explains why they could not communicate with their Federation."

"Exactly," the Matriarch agreed. "How many years, do you think?"

"From the quantity of malleotron particles, I can only say not less than two hundred nor more than five hundred years, Matriarch. I am sorry I cannot be more precise."

"But they will have information about our future! We should call them back and find out if there is anything we should change!" Susera said excitedly.

"No! Susera, that is exactly why we must NOT contact them again!" the Matriarch said immediately. "The timeline may already have been compromised!"

Susera bowed her head, murmuring her apology, as the Matriarch turned and addressed Kerila, the keeper of all official records. "You know what we must do."

"Yes, Matriarch. We must remove all references to Voyager visit, and of their part in Nan's rescue from our history. To do otherwise would risk changing history as it is supposed to be."

"Matriarch, forgive me, but how can we manage this?" Susera asked. "Even if we remove their names from our official records, so many have met them personally! How can we control what may say about them in personal accounts?"

The Matriarch considered for a moment. "Only a few members of the court actually met them, Susera. Many others who knew of them perished during Nan's rescue. So, if there is no confirmation from official records, their names will lost to our history. People may speak of them, but they will quickly become more like figures from fables, rather than real people, to any who do recall the incident. And if we make sure that Evasek is given his proper due as Nan's rescuer, even those recollections will die."

Susera may still have had doubts, but she replied, "It will be so, of course." She hesitated, then added, "Forgive me if I am speaking presumptuously, but Evasek is a noble warrior, Matriarch. He was a loyal mate to Evasena before her death, and fathered a fine daughter. He serves you now as War Leader--and would undoubtedly make a fine Consort as well."

"You *are* being presumptuous!" Tirgana glared at her retainers, but not in the withering way she had when she was truly upset. "You are all dismissed."

Susera mumbled her apologies. Ristina and Kerila wisely said nothing as they bowed their way out of the Matriarch's presence.

When they were gone, Tirgana sighed in amused resignation. Matchmakers! She would never be rid of them as long as she was without a Royal Consort!

Her mind went back to the beginning part of the conversation. Susera was loyal and knew how to follow orders; Tirgana was sure she would never mention those of Voyager ever again. Both Kerila and Ristina could be ruthless in their attention to completing tasks. All mention of Voyager and her crew would efficiently and completely disappear from Caephidian history. Janeway and her crew would soon pass into legend. Indeed, that may be where they belong, the Matriarch mused, as she walked into her private rooms, dismissing Nepay, who had been guarding Nan. With Rakila's imprisonment and Majalay's death, there was no one else to care for the child. She would have to see about getting a replacement. But perhaps Nan was already getting to the point where he was too old to require a new nursemaid.

When they were alone, she stood over the bed watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept peacefully.

The way Nan was lying, his blue birthmark was clearly visible. Soon it would be gnarled and twisted into his adult male skin. She remembered the path Tirgan's took along the side of his face. How she missed him! He was--had been--a male unlike all others.

She had confidence in Evasek. He would serve her well as War Leader. Perhaps, as Susera had said, he could even be a kind and just Consort, but he could never be what Tirgan had been to her. None of them realized how important the late consort had been to the Matriarch. To all of them. Content always to remain in the shadows, as their culture demanded, Tirgan had always been there to guide her with his wise, far-seeing counsel. As intelligent and able to see the whole picture as he was a brave warrior, Tirgan had been unable to anticipate only one thing: the treachery of his most trusted Second.

She knew she should take another mate. Her eldest hatchling was male, and so was the egg that lay waiting in the Ovarium. She needed a female child to take her place. But even if she took another mate, who could guarantee that he would succeed in producing a female to follow her? She could have a dozen more sons and no daughter. And even if she were blessed with a female child, that daughter would not be the child of her beloved, wise Tirgan.

Perhaps it would be better for all if one of Tirgan's sons married the current heiress apparent Bragila. Then the legacy she shared with Tirgan might live on. Then "Branan" might be the hero to his people his father had been.

The Matriarch walked to the window to gaze over the sunken garden. The years ahead would be lonely ones for her. How much she would love to know what Janeway could have told her about the future of her people! It would give her comfort in her loneliness to learn her decisions had been the right ones, to hear of the glorious future of her people. Tirgana would not ask, however, wise enough to realize the truth she would prefer to ignore but could not.

Sometimes it was better not to know.

FINIS

Next: Little FeatA short interude...Harry makes an exciting discovery about Kal'toh!