CHANGES "All stop. Report, Mr. Tuvok." “Sensor readings are, in fact, exactly the same as they were five minutes ago Captain, inasmuch as there are no new sensor readings. It would appear that the Sorreg have given up the chase.”

“Excellent. Well done everybody.”

Captain Janeway turned slowly to each of the bridge crew, acknowledging their part in overcoming what could have been a lethal encounter with a race of telepaths whose sole intent seemed to be to use their incredibly strong powers to subdue everyone they met. The better part of valour today had been to run like hell.

“I concur Captain, sensors are operating at maximum efficiency – we are not being followed.” Lieutenant Harry Kim was settling into his new role as Chief of Security well, although he still seemed glad to take advice from Commander Tuvok. Is it my imagination, thought Janeway, or is some of that Vulcan attitude rubbing off on Kim?

Harry Kim did look a little haggard today, and he seemed hunched over more than usual. He had been instrumental in their escape and the past few weeks were obviously taking their toll. Janeway made a mental note to enforce an extra day off on Kim, before glancing across to the Chief Operations Officer’s station. There had been a look of concern for Kim from there also. Time for action, thought Janeway.

“Lieutenants Kim and Kim, you are relieved of your duties for the next twenty four hours and I do not want to see either of you back on this bridge before 1100 hours tomorrow. Is that understood?”

Harry looked up from his console toward the Captain who was wearing a broad grin, then he turned towards his old station: “I guess that means us, wife,” he said. “Indeed it does, husband! Let’s go before the Captain has a change of mind.” “Oh, Annika,” piped up a familiar voice from helm control, “don’t let him talk you into spending all your time off on his new holonovel programme again!” “Don’t worry, Tom, I’ve got better things in mind!”

Tuvok assumed his familiar position at the security station while Annika Kim’s place was taken by a new arrival on the bridge, Jenny Delaney. She and Paris exchanged meaningful glances but knew better than to address each other informally in front of the bridge crew. Although marriage was, so far, not on the cards, the two had become much closer over the years, following Paris’ break-up with B’Elanna. The much- anticipated marriage of the ship’s pilot and its Chief of Engineering had never happened. They had split but remained good friends. Paris’ first love remained the ship. He had even turned down promotion in order to stay as ship’s pilot, although even he now acknowledged that the day was approaching when he would need to entrust that position to his protégé, Ensign Vorik. Vorik had started his Starfleet career following in his father and mother’s footsteps down in Engineering, and although B’Elanna had hoped that he would succeed her as Chief, she realised that he wanted to fly the ship more, and she was happy to have Tom as his mentor.

Paris did not take easily to the marriage between B’Elanna and Vorik senior, and it had come as just as much a surprise to her. But everyone aboard Voyager had long ago realised that if they were indeed to spend seventy years getting home, that marriages would need to be forged, out of love and out of necessity, and children borne if they were to avoid manning the ship by a group of geriatrics.

“Mr. Paris, ahead full impulse.” Janeway turned away from the forward view screen and sat down in the ‘Captain’s Chair’, brushing a runaway strand of red hair back into place. “Not bad for your first time in the Big Chair!” said a nearby voice. Janeway turned to the familiar face; square jawed with the trademark tattoo. Chakotay too looked a little more aged today than usual. The wrinkles on his forehead had become deeper creases lately and Janeway thought the pressures of the job were starting to show. “Thanks, Dad,” he said, “I have to say I’ve really been looking forward to this day, but dreading it too. Mother’s shoes are difficult to fill.” “Impossible more like,” replied Chakotay, smiling. “Listen, if you think you can do without me for a couple of hours, I’m going to head back to my quarters and see how your mother’s doing. We should all be getting ready soon, and I’ll bet she just can’t decide which uniform to wear!” “I’ll be fine here. Tell her I’ll see her at Holodeck Two for the party.” “Then I guess you have the bridge, Captain.” Thank-you, Commander!” Chakotay grinned and made his way to the turbolift. His son was turning into a fine leader – just like his mother.

Captain Charles Janeway returned his attention to the bridge. He was beginning to feel right at home here, despite his earlier fears that he would not be accepted by the senior crew as Captain at such a young age. But he had proved himself over as he rose through the ranks, and he was the natural successor to the post.

Both parents had been totally supportive during those difficult years – after all, it wasn’t easy being the Captain’s son, especially in such a close-knit community. His mother had always been there to offer advice, without pushing him harder than necessary, and his father provided much needed spiritual guidance. Charles took his Native American inheritance very seriously. Even when he had decoded to keep his mother'’ maiden name Chakotay was understanding, just as he had been when Kathryn made the same decision when they married.

So here he was, about to assume command of the only Starfleet vessel around, charged with keeping his mother’s promise to get the ship and its crew safely back to Earth. He knew that his mother would have given anything to be the one commanding Voyager on her return to Earth, and she was still quite capable of doing so for a good while yet, but she had decided that she and Chakotay deserved more time together. Thirty-five years of leadership was enough for any person.

Chakotay approached the door to his quarters and had to physically stop himself from ringing for entry. Old habits die hard, he though to himself. Instead he entered to be greeted by a smiling face. Kathryn Janeway was seated at her easel working on a watercolour of the Florence skyline, classical music playing gently. Her red hair, grown long once again, was tied back, with just a few wisps of silver showing.

“Chopin?” enquired Chakotay. “Debussy – La Mer” she replied. “You’d think I’d know by now. Look, Kathryn, you really should put your brushes away for the day and get ready for the party. I know its fashionable to be late but don’t you think you should make a start?” “Don’t fret, Chakotay. Have you ever known me be late for a single staff meeting over the last thirty-five years? I’ll be ready in good time.”

Thirty-five years, repeated itself in her head. Halfway home. She still held out the hope that they would find a way back to earth before the allotted seventy-year journey rolled around. She had been convinced that this would happen within the first few years of their arrival in the Delta Quadrant. But here they were, over a quarter of a century later, with a new generation poised to take on the task of getting the ship home.

There were days, like today, when she wondered if they had taken the right approach to all this – if she had taken the right approach – that maybe they should have settled on one of the many habitable planets they had used to replenish supplies. The crew must have been tempted to do so along the way. God knows she had been. But the overwhelming desire to get home had won through on every occasion, and it was those times that convinced her she had done the right thing.

It had been the natural course of events for crewmembers to form relationships and partnerships. Indeed it had been vital to their very survival. Some parings were to be expected, others surprising, including her own to Chakotay. She had felt initial guilt because of Mark, but her life with Mark was a universe away. She would have expected him to have carried on without her by now too.

Then there was Charles. Bringing a child up on a spaceship thousands of lightyears from home was no easy task for anyone, let alone that ship’s captain. But there had been plenty of help to hand during those formative years, not least from the Doctor who had formed a strong bond with the boy from an early age. Not surprising really – the Doctor had acted as both medical practitioner and mid- wife!

Charles and the other space-born crewmembers had been brought up on a strict regime; but not strictly a Starfleet one – more that special blend of Starfleet protocol and Delta Quadrant make-do that had developed over the years. She had not pushed him into command training, (or maybe I did, she mused), but she was certainly pleased when his career took that direction. He was, no question, the most suitable person for the job.

“Kathryn – the party?” Janeway looked up at Chakotay again and smiled. During her reverie she had subconsciously resumed her painting. “I’m sorry, Chakotay. I promise, I will get to the ball on time!”

* * * * *

“Yeah, well, I can’t help it if I don’t like enclosed spaces!”

The Mess Hall was deserted, except for one table, dimly lit, next to the window. Paris turned his gaze from the stars and back to his bowl of soup. Kim was on his way back from the replicator with a second mug of steaming black coffee.

“You know Tom, I’ve developed quite a taste for this stuff over the years, thanks to the Captain, or should that be ex-Captain?” “Not quite yet it isn’t,” replied Tom, “she’s still officially in charge for the next, oh, thirty minutes or so. Plenty of time for me to finish my lunch. I thought you were supposed to be on enforced leave with Annika anyway. Why are you here with me?” “Oh she wanted time alone to get ready – you know how it is.” “Actually, no I don’t”

The Mess Hall doors opened and a female figure appeared, in silhouette against the corridor lights. Kim stood up; “Annika, come on over, we were just talking about the time Tom went walkabout during cryo- containment in the nebula.” “That’s a story I’d rather not relive,” she replied with a wry smile, “now come on you two, we should be on Holodeck Two. The Captain decided to hold her retirement party at the Starfleet resort in Acapulco, and I for one want to hit the beach, so get a move on!”

She turned and headed back to the door. Paris also got to his feet and he and Kim followed in Annika’s footsteps, leaving unfinished coffee and tomato soup on the table. As they reached the corridor Paris caught Kim by the arm, halting him in his tracks.

“Just one thing, Harry, how come you got to marry the Borg?

* * * * *

Paris put the PADD down on the table and looked out of the window.

“Well?” enquired Kim between mouthfuls of coffee, “What do you think?” He sounded quite agitated, not sure whether he actually wanted to hear the answer to the question or not. “Not bad for a first attempt, eh?”

Paris studied the bowl of soup in front of him, absently dipping the spoon in and out. “TOM!” “Maybe it’s a little biased toward the heroic actions of one ‘Chief of Security’, but other than that, its…interesting.” “Just ‘interesting’?” “Well, you know, I don’t particularly relish the thought of staying out here for another generation. I need to believe that we’ll find a way home long before that.” “So you’re saying I shouldn’t publish it for the rest of the crew to read. You think it will depress rather than entertain them? I guess you’re right. I hadn’t really thought along those lines. Maybe I should write a comedy instead?” “Yeah, and maybe you could ask Tuvok and Seven for a few amusing anecdotes!” “OK, I get the message – ‘don’t give up the day job’, is that what……”

“All senior officers, this is Captain Janeway, report to the bridge immediately.”

Kathryn Janeway’s voice boomed over the internal communicator with the kind of authority that thrusts anyone into action. “Sounds important,” offered Paris, “whatever’s happening up there might just be the material for your sequel!” “Very funny Tom.” “Come on you two – immediately means NOW.” B’Elanna Torres had appeared in the Mess Hall doorway without either of them noticing. They rose, leaving unfinished coffee and tomato soup on the table and headed to the door. As they approached the corridor Paris grabbed Kim by the arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“Just one thing Harry, how come I didn’t get to marry B’Elanna?” Harry smiled, “I guess not everything turns out like you expect!”

”

* * * * *