He walked around the fire, putting it between them.

Kathryn's earrings flashed in the firelight, a warm glow complimenting the luminosity in her eyes. The chain she had worn in the marketplace was rising and falling on her collarbone as she breathed shallowly, awaiting his answer.

What did he want. It wasn't a question anymore; it had become a statement that had driven his life in the last two years.

He had wanted the Maquis free. So he had freed them.

He wanted work that was satisfying to his soul. He wanted a challenge to his mind. He wanted to love, to have children, to watch the stars and the stones of his own home.

He had wanted Seven. She was gone, lost to a good man.

He wanted home. Home was about to be terraformed and the evidence of his life, of his family, of their history, were to be wiped away in fire and water.

"What I want," he said, barely audible above the crackle of the blaze, "is to know why I haven't seen you for the past year."

He watched as she inhaled sharply. No shadow blocked his view of her full face. Her eyes shifted right, then left, then returned to his face. "You told me once, many years ago, that you couldn't imagine a day without seeing me."

A tear slid down her cheek, adding another glimmer to her face. "Oh, Chakotay."

He did not answer her unspoken plea; his face demanded an answer.

"Can you be jealous of yourself?" For any other person, it would have been a rhetorical question. "Can you be jealous of yourself and hate yourself at the same time?"

He could not answer that.

"I knew how much time you spent alone with her. Dinners and late nights, with her instead of me. I could have taken it if you were with Seven, but you were with me, but not with me." More tears slipped down her face. "I loathed her, you know."

"I didn't know."

"How could you? I didn't understand it myself. I despised her, and I used her to get us home. It was my worst moment as a captain."

"No," he disagreed vehemently.

"You think what, the Equinox incident was worse? Oh, no, Chakotay, this was far worse. I looked at her and said no, I will not become her. I will not sacrifice everything I believe in - everything I use as the standard for my life - just to get my crew home. Now that I know that I'm going to get home, I can stop this hardening, I can break that cynical spirit, I can stop it from happening. And the next thing I knew, we had a way to get home that entailed a suicide. Her - my - suicide. And I agreed to it with a wide smile and a happy wave."

She tipped her head back, shadowing her eyes. "When we came home, I went to see my mother in Indiana. I told her everything about the Admiral. When I was done, she was crying.

"You see, my mother knew that person. She told me, 'Don't be her, Kathryn, don't be Edward's mother.' And I realized, very suddenly, who that Admiral reminded me of. It was my grandmother. She was one of the most evil women I'd ever met in my life. And I had become her. I had become her even before the Admiral arrived."

"You're not evil, Kathryn."

She rejected his comfort. "I've seen my soul, Chakotay. I know me for what I am."

She stood and faced him across the fire. "I can't accept that she and I are the same. I've stayed away because I couldn't face you. I could barely face the rest. At Annika's wedding last week, all I could think was that my future meddling brought this about - and she said her goal was to bring you together. She lied. She lied all the time. That means that I…" she couldn't go on.

"I loved her, Kathryn."

She looked sadly at him. "I know you loved Seven, Chakotay."

"I didn't mean Seven. I meant the Admiral."

Utter stupefaction stunned her into silence, but she put up her hands, denying him.

"I did. I loved her." His face was grim. "I did. Several times."

"You were with Seven."

"We were never lovers, Kathryn. Maybe, if the Admiral hadn't come back, Seven and I might have been." His hands were extended to her, seeking her. "But the Admiral and I…"

"In the future?" Kathryn tried to make some sense of it.

"Maybe. I think so. I never asked her about her and her Chakotay. But she and I, several times, after Tuvok and the others left us alone, when I escorted her back to her quarters…" Chakotay did not finish, leaving his implications to lie in silence between them.

"So you were lovers? On Voyager, in our time."

"Not only lovers, Kathryn. I loved her. It wasn't just sex, it wasn't about sex or past due fulfillment. I loved her. I have always loved Kathryn Janeway."

He could see her swallow, see her strain to breathe. "How could you love her?"

"How could I not? Whether Kathryn Janeway is 39, 49, or 79, I love her."

"Did Seven know?"

His hands dropped. "I don't know. We tried to be very discreet, to keep it secret. I think Seven has always suspected. We talked about the Admiral a great deal. She was so very jealous, and so very afraid of me at the same time."

"Seven, afraid of you?"

"I think so. When we began to plan the rescue, she withdrew from me, she seemed afraid." He looked at her with lowered eyebrows. "You say she got married?"

"Yes, last week. It was rather sudden, I think, but she and Reg have been involved with each other for so long, it didn't seem odd that they would turn up in San Francisco one afternoon and ask me to marry them. I pulled my yeoman in and we beamed over to Voyager. He witnessed the ceremony, and twenty minutes later they were off to Risa or someplace."

She could see his smile between his fingers as he rubbed his hand across his face. "I wish them well."

"So do I. She intends to remain a civilian consultant. It will give her the freedom to follow his postings in Starfleet."

The spell of heartbreaking intimacy was gone, but Chakotay found himself feeling light and free.

"Maybe that's what was going on when we were planning the rescue."

Kathryn sat down again, wiping her tears from her face. "Just what have you been doing, Chakotay?"

"Captain, message coming in from the Cardassian Central Command."

"Counselor, escort Captain Torres to the conference room and arrange for some discreet quarters for her. Have Sickbay examine our guests and arrange what they need." Picard shook B'Elanna's hand again shortly and turned to Data. "Did we take any damage in those explosions?"

"None at all, Captain." Data pushed a few buttons on his console, then studied the output. "No survivors on either ship, Captain."

"Very well," he said tiredly as B'Elanna left the bridge, Deanna beside her. "Put them on screen."

The doors closed behind them before the image came on screen. Deanna indicated the other man in the room. "I believe you know Ambassador Worf."

She nodded formally to him. "And Chancellor Martok?"

B'Elanna took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. "I know the Chancellor."

Graciously, Deanna smiled. "Very well. Would you like to go to your quarters now?"

"Yes, please. And my husband, Tom, he should be here too."

"I'll check with Security, they'll find him and take him to your quarters."

"Thank you." B'Elanna watched as Deanna contacted Security and arranged an escort. "Security also handles quarters assignments. I suspect that Lieutenant Commander Delphos himself will come to escort you. Don't be bothered by him, he's a Bolian, and he talks all the time. You'll be able to relax as soon as you get to your quarters."

B'Elanna's eyes slid toward the other men in the room, then back to her. Funny that this woman would know how anxious she felt since walking into the room.

Worf stood and walked over to the Enterprise counselor. "Deanna, I hope that we will have dinner together tonight. Alexander sent pictures of his new son."

She smiled brightly. "I'll enjoy that, Grandpa. Nineteen hundred hours, in your quarters?"

"Yes." Worf looked at Martok, as politely as a Klingon can. "Will you wish to join us, or will you prefer to eat with Captain Picard?"

"Picard, of course. These Starfleeters are such sticklers for protocol. Besides, I've seen the pictures of your grandson already."

B'Elanna began to relax. The chancellor was sitting by the bulkhead windows, the flames of the Emprell and Q'Plah still visible from their new position. Martok did not look angry that his beloved ship was burning. Worf was not displeased that the Cardassians were now justified in declaring a war on the Klingon Empire. If anything, they looked pleased with the situation.

Deanna smiled again at B'Elanna, and returned to the bridge.

Martok stood and came to look down at B'Elanna, closely examining her forehead ridges. "A new look, B'Elanna?"

She thought about the surgical enhancements made by the Doctor to her husband and friend, and felt her ridges carefully. "It seemed prudent to assume some sort of disguise."

Worf growled, but Martok took her hand, and looked at the arm that was scar free. "Ignore him, he's jealous."

He stroked her arm with a gentle touch. "I'll replace that when we get home."

She shook her head. "I never deserved it in the first place."

Martok looked at her with his one good eye. "Do you think I have so little honor that I give the Flaming Sword of Kahless as an alibi for a rescue of humans? What you did on Voyager was worthy of the great Kahless himself. Were you older, I would have made you a member of the Order of Kahless."

She had the thought that he would have winked at her if he could. "Maybe next time."

Worf growled again, but Martok put up his hand. "Worf, you have great honor but you'll never be a politician. But you're a great targ hunter; I'll give you that. When we get back, the three of us will hunt targ."

B'Elanna's plans for their return to Qo'NoS were far less violent, but she appreciated the privileged invitation. As she thought about it more, targ hunting sounded pretty good. Get some of this adrenaline out of her system, and maybe some time alone with Tom, and she'd be able to think clearly again.

"Your ship," she began.

"Yes, I want to thank you for that. You gave her a glorious death. If there's a Sto'VoKor for ships, I've no doubt she's entered it resplendently."

She bowed her head, agreeing. "She was a worthy ship, the Q'Plah. If I ever have another command, it won't be as wonderful as that ship."

"Your first time is always your best, isn't it?" Martok mused, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

Lieutenant Commander Delphos, as blue as Chell, stood in the doorway.

"Captain Torres, may I escort you to your quarters? We've arranged for you to be situated near engineering, I'm sure you'll like a tour later on," he said as he escorted her from the room.

B'Elanna knew that this was the flagship of Starfleet. She looked at the bright walls, the quiet, serene atmosphere, and wondered how one Federation could make two ships so incredibly different. The atmosphere of Voyager was so unlike it, she didn't quite feel at home on a ship so big or engines that weren't hers.

Engines on Enterprise…now maybe this short visit might be useful after all. What was that chief engineer's name?

She followed her guide, noting that the circuitous route seemed to be taking a while. The Bolian chatted up and down the corridors, pointing out this or that amenity that B'Elanna never considered on a ship. A separate bar for the residents? B'Elanna was grateful for Sandrine's, she never thought about the consequences of converting a ship to a generational ship.

Maybe it was better that Voyager's crew never really moved to that point. She had often thought it was unfortunate for Naomi to grow up alone until the Borg children joined the ship, but not until that point did she wonder why so few paired up. Other than the Ashmores, she and Tom were the only married couple on board. How would the ship have had to adjust for families, not just quarters, but also the lifestyles that families require? She knew that she was grateful that Miral's inopportune birth allowed her to recuperate and spend the next six months primarily being "Mommy" when the debriefings weren't calling her. The position on McKinley gave her a great deal of freedom to work the hours that Tom was free, keeping Miral constantly with one parent. A few of the additional uncles and aunties rounded out the extended family in such a way that B'Elanna wondered how her mother had ever raised her alone, so far from their loving assistance.

The quarters she was assigned were far more elegant than even Kathryn Janeway's on Voyager. The suite had four rooms, two with views of the port nacelle and the stars rushing past. She fell into a chair by the door and called for Tom.

No answer. Perhaps he hadn't come up from wherever Enterprise put them when they beamed over the prisoners of war. She saw Chakotay disappear, and for a brief, frightening moment, thought that maybe Tom had not made it.

"Computer, locate Tom Paris."

"No such person currently entered into Enterprise logs."

That made sense. How long had they been here, twenty minutes at the most?

She looked longingly at the large tub in the bathroom. Maybe when Tom got back, they could enjoy themselves in there for a while. She shrugged off the captain's battle cape and dropped it onto the table. It bore witness to the destruction of the Q'Plah - sparks had burned holes and a large patch on her left shoulder was still a little hot to the touch. She felt her hair, which she had worn in its natural curls, and wondered if she'd lost any to scorching. A bath. Soon.

She considered the time. A quick sonic shower wouldn't hurt, and she hoped to find something a little less conspicuous than the Klingon battle armor to wear while on the Enterprise. She had barely seen the faces of those she and Annika had beamed aboard, but B'Eelanna didn't think she wanted to find an old Maquis friend dressed in any army uniform. She turned to the replicator station beside her chair, and called up a selection of Klingon dresses. Maybe something less dramatic than the usual formal garb of the High Council court, but something with a little flair…

She found herself in the shower a short while later, wondering what had happened to her mind. The replacement garments were still very Klingon - a look she'd despised for so many years, but the honor she had been given in being made the captain of Martok's ship and his presence here made her want to be Klingon. Funny, she'd never thought of herself as politically minded, but Martok had a charm about him that she liked. Tom wouldn't laugh, he never laughed at her occasional attempts to find her Klingon half, as he called it. Chakotay might raise a questioning eyebrow, but he wouldn't comment unless she did.

The door chime rang as she dealt with her hair, tugging at a nasty burn on the back of her head. "Captain Torres?"

She opened her door, and in walked two pseudo-Cardassians and one Bolian. "Captain Torres, these two claim to know you."

She watched the Bolian carefully. "These two Cardassians claim to know me?"

"Yes, ma'am. I was wondering if you could identify them for me. We just pulled fifteen of the prisoners of war off them, barely got them out with their lives. I think that I better put them in the brig for their own protection."

One wicked, tiny, barely audible voice in the back of her brain said one thing. "Payback."

"Pulled the prisoners off them? What do you mean?" She avoided the identification issue for a moment.

"Several of the human and Bajoran prisoners were attempting to kill the Gul. The Glinn had managed to climb up on top of a stack of replicator parts in the cargo bay and was trying to get the Gul up beside him."

"It sounds very suspicious, Lieutenant Commander. Perhaps a brig is the only place for them."

He looked at her, shocked at the suggestion. "I should put those poor prisoners into the brig?"

"Of course not," she soothed him. "I think these two had better go to the brig."

"I spent a little time in a lock-up, thanks to B'Elanna." He laid down on his mattress, trying to avoid eye contact.

She snorted. "B'Elanna? I'll bet it was payback in spades."

"Well, yes, I guess it was." He laughed a little, listening to the fire crackle. "She certainly enjoyed it enough."

"I'll bet she did."

"What happened to the Maquis prisoners, Chakotay?" she asked quietly.

He had known since they left Café Montigua that she knew what he'd been doing for the last year, but he didn't expect the direct question. "Most of them are on Bajor, some have returned to their homes. A few, like Tom Riker, have come to Earth."

"Is that a good idea? He is an escaped prisoner. We might have an extradition policy with Cardassia some day."

"I doubt that, but even so, his release was officially expedited and had enough big name signatures on the forms that I don't think they'll have a legal right to ask for it."

"Do you know what happened on Cardassia after you left?"

"I know that Picard managed to arrange a peace treaty between the Klingons and the Cardassians. I sat in on some of the talks."

"It's a good thing, too. Admiral East was ready to have you court-martialed when you missed the departure of the Decker. Picard's request saved your career." She laid down on her sleeping bag, arranging her arms in a comfortable position.

"I always knew that Starfleet would find a reason to court-martial me once we got back to the Alpha Quadrant. I must admit, I didn't think it would be for dereliction of duty of a ship that was under my command."

"On Cardassia," she continued, "several high-ranking and key governmental officials were found to have conspired to allow imperial prisoners escape. No current information is available about the location of the escapees, but it's been rumored that the former Maquis terrorist, Chakotay, may know something about it. He's currently being sought by the head of the Cardassian government, a very interesting man by the name of Garak."

"I've met Garak. He and Martok are old war buddies. They signed the peace treaty on the Enterprise while I was there. I imagine we won't be meeting again soon."

She snickered a little and snuggled down a little into the sleeping bag. "I'll have to tell you what Starfleet thought of this little caper of yours tomorrow. I'm too tired now."

He felt the same way. Somewhere in their conversation was a great deal of truth and an equal amount of evasion. A few hours rest would help him figure out which was which.

She wandered around the enclosed ledge, occasionally looking down at the burned grove. From a technical point of view, she began to assess the damage, the requirements to reestablish the plantation, to plan the rebuilding. Anything to give hope, she told herself. Anything to distract her aching mind.

Hector came to stand beside her, slipping his hand into hers. How long had it been, she thought, since she had held his childish hand? Hector was twenty now. Once she had thought of him as her son, but now he was a man who needed comfort too. Suddenly, some banshee of regret passed through her, a brazen wish for children of her own, a land of her own, a place whose stars and stones she would call her home. The incongruity of such deep longing at such a depressing time would have made her laugh at any other time, but today, she could only clutch Hector's hand in silence.

Kolopak and Kanicha tended the llamas. Groucho had worn a bad sore under his pack, but being Groucho meant being stoic and enduring until Margarita told him to cush. Pulling out his small bag of herbs, Kolopak ground a few into a compress and applied it to the tired llama, which barely opened his eyes at the procedure. Romeo and Felix nibbled at some of Kolopak's chaya herbs, and slept peacefully in the late afternoon sun. Kanicha scouted out a nearby stream and decided that they could be watered there later. She took herself there alone, saying a bath was what she needed most right now. The trail mix lunch had been enough then, but a better dinner should be prepared. The last of the human food was in Felix's pack; she'd prepare something later.

Alone, Kolopak studied the situation in his head. The odd pattern in the fire markings of the destroyed plantation seemed to indicate something, but at the moment, nothing was making much sense. He reconsidered the sequence of sabotage, and tried to make the evidence point another way, but in the end, Margarita was the obvious saboteur. He drowsed in the sunshine, his mind fuzzy. How had the fire been started? Fire images led to his thoughts in the cave. The vision he had received there was full of fire, full of destruction and pain. He saw others that he did not know but knew that he loved destroyed in it. As he considered destruction, his mind wove back into the present and kept focusing on a particular black mark, almost on the border of the blackened earth.

Restlessly, he wandered down to the site of his mind's eye, scuffing the ashes with his boots. At one point, he stopped and looked up, seeing Margarita alone on the ledge, he waved, but she missed him, seemingly gazing toward the far end of the grove.

Behind him, he heard the whine of a transporter beam, and turned to find Chakotay and a Klingon woman materializing nearby. Both looked pale and distressed at the devastation around them.

"We just heard an hour ago. Chelipto wanted to know if Kanicha was safe."

"She's over there," Kolopak said, waving his hand in her general direction. His anger at the man had gone up in smoke, too.

K'Lura sniffed and shook her head. I'll find her, her attitude said, and Chakotay nodded to her. Neither spoke.

Kolopak knelt in the ashes, sifting it carefully, and picked up a lens, several centimeters in diameter. It was banded by a discolored piece of steel, but the engraving on it was still very visible. "Inez Wang. May your visions be…" the rest of the inscription was mottled.

He held it out to Chakotay. "I think I know who did this."

She smelled the coffee and felt his kiss on her forehead before opening her eyes to his charming wake up call, "Time to get up, sleepy. We've got a wall to climb today."

"Chakotay, tell me why I agreed to sleep on the ground. I'm too old for this." Four limbs attached to one painful back and she wasn't sure she could get up, but the coffee was certainly an enticement.

"I'm not sure you agreed to sleep on the ground, but you did agree to go treasure hunting. We should find it today."

"I can't. I can't move."

"Would a bath help?"

She opened one eye. "Don't tease me, Chakotay."

He put the cup of coffee down beside her face. "I'm not. Come on."

She pulled herself slowly to an upright position, and drank down half the coffee in three gulps, much to Chakotay's amusement. He pulled her the rest of the way to a stand, ignoring her groans. Kathryn stumbled along side him without much awareness of anything but several cricks in her back. "Where are we going?" she asked, trying for distraction.

"Not far," was his unhelpful reply. "My father told me about this place. He said that it was the only redeeming thing about this trip, if you ignore the fact that my parents found each other on it."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Ignore that fact?"

He smiled at her witticism, and sat her down on a large rock that looked like it was built to be a chair. "Here's your pack. There's a swimsuit in there. The latrine area is just beyond…Kathryn, are you paying attention?"

She wasn't, but it wasn't her fault.

The hot spring steamed in the morning chill, but surrounding the pool was a cascade of hundreds of orchids, each perfuming the air with intoxicating splendor. The colors seemed intensely strong in the diffuse light, purples, magentas and blacks highlighted by streaks and spots of white. The curtain of flowers close by was unattended, but above her head, Kathryn could see the bodies of splendidly colored small birds taking nectar. It was the most perfect site for a bath she could ever imagine.

"Chakotay, it's …" words failed her.

"I'll be back in a few minutes with breakfast. You get your kinks out. We've got a wall to climb."

It was the second time he'd said it, and this time, she began to wonder exactly what that meant, but she was distracted again by the pool. He was gone, and finding a private place for some personal needs was more important than wondering what he meant on only one half a cup of coffee.

He returned with a small selection of fruit and nuts, together with a slice of thick bread spread with a cheese. He too was dressed in a swimsuit, and he climbed into the pool, setting their food between them. "Happy?" he asked needlessly.

Kathryn sat in the pool, blissful contentment shining on her face. "Why didn't we ever do this on Voyager in the holodeck?"

"I've never been here in the rainy season before. I didn't know it would look like this." He picked up a small green fruit and popped it into his mouth. "Come on, do I have to feed you too?"

The atmosphere and the sensuality of their situation began to dawn on Kathryn Janeway. True, they were both dressed, she was sunk down to her neck in hot water that covered anything that might be flaunted, not that she felt she had something to show off. Not since New Earth had they been in such an intimate encounter, and the revelations from the previous night charged the atmosphere with electricity.

"What have you been doing, Kathryn, for the last two years?"

Her eyes twinkled as she groaned. "You don't know?"

"How could I? You've been avoiding me since the Federation Ball." He said it without rancor.

"I was hoping I could blame that on you," she said, resting her head back against the rim of the pool.

"I don't think so. I tried several times to ask you to dance and you ducked me every time."

"You were there with Seven."

"You introduced Seven to your mother and Lwaxanna Troi. I didn't see her again for hours."

Kathryn tried to repress the smile, but she wasn't very successful. "I didn't intend for that to happen. I was just trying to get her away from Bashir and the Doctor."

"You succeeded. She seemed to enjoy talking to your mother and Mrs. Troi."

"They enjoyed talking to her. Mrs. Troi, when she's not being 'grand' is really quite a good woman who has a tremendous interest in the Borg. The three of them planned the downfall of the Borg in something less than one hour. God help the Queen if those three ever come after her, she won't have a chance." She smiled with great pleasure at the thought. "Maybe I should be an admiral. I could get them a ship…"

He splashed her to get her attention back on him. "You're avoiding the question, Kathryn."

"You mean, what have I been doing for the past two years?" She shifted on her rocky seat and settled deeper into the warm water. "You don't get the media much, do you?

"Not on my last tour, no. We were someplace in Sector 8847, we had no contact with anyone for most of the trip. Why?"

"Because I'm a 'name' now. Officer Prillwitz wasn't only protecting you; he's been assigned to me by Starfleet because I'm constantly harassed by media dogs. There's one man, he's with some entertainment newsgate who has decided he's going to make his career on me. I step out of my apartment, he's there. I walk from my office to the officer's mess, he's there. I can't even go play pool at the bar back in Bloomington, he's there. Once a week he manages to find me and get me in some "newsworthy" item that keeps the attention and interest high. I was only able to get to Café Montigua without him by beaming directly from my office. There's a holographic image of me in my office, just in case he's managed to spy through my office windows."

"So you have a constant shadow?"

"Constant isn't the word for it. He's intrusive, obnoxious and utterly without shame. I went on my first date last month. I think I spent more time thinking about how to kill him than I did paying attention to Pete."

"Who's Pete?"

"Pete Harkins. He was part of the Pathfinder team, Reg Barclay's boss, actually. Did you ever meet him?"

"No, I don't believe so."

"I hadn't either. His wife died two days after we returned, so he was off duty when we toured the Pathfinder project." She sat up a little further in the pool, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. "Reg and Annika called me, asked if he could join us when we went to see the Doctor's performance."

"Which one?"

"Don Giovanni. Not my favorite opera, but he was very good. Pete and I met at the Sydney Opera House with Annika and Reg, we were all enjoying ourselves, and then Osquirt showed up. Suddenly, I couldn't even look at Pete or Reg, much less Annika. His imager was on us the whole time. If I smiled, it would look like I was flirting and the gatelines would say 'Janeway in Love'. I couldn't frown or they would say 'Janeway's Depressed'. I couldn't touch anything, couldn't drink or eat anything. We managed to get to the Starfleet offices in Melbourne and have a quiet evening afterwards, but Pete didn't ever ask …I mean, we haven't talked since then."

Chakotay simmered on his side of the pool. "Is it really that bad?"

"It's worse, actually." She pulled up out of the pool, leaving just her lower legs in the water. "That's hot after a while. That's why I want this position in the Gamma Quadrant." She picked up a largish fruit and took a bite, wiping drips from her face with the back of her hand. "The sector will be off limits to most Federation citizens unless they have a Starfleet clearance. I have enough pull to make sure that Osquirt will never get clearance."

"Can you stop him, really? Freedom of movement, Federation charter and all that?"

"This isn't a Federation jurisdiction. It's the Finchk Confederation. We're working with them, but under their direction, for the purpose of getting the pirates out. Once we secure the station, it will take a few years before we can be entirely sure that it's safe and that the systems are reliable enough to open the rest of the station to outsiders. By then, I hope that Osquirt will either be leeching off some one else, or at least uninterested in coming to the Gamma Quadrant for an extended period of

time."

"And if you don't get the station position?"

She pursed her lips. "I'll leave Starfleet."

He was thunderstruck. "You'll leave Starfleet?"

"Not only Starfleet. I'll leave the quadrant. I've been offered a position privately, by the Finchk Confederation, as liaison between them and the Federation. I'm still thinking about the offer. If you decide you want the station, I'll take it instead."

He picked up a flower beside him, sniffing it to hide his face from her. Its fragrance was very slight, and he wondered in passing how many there must be to produce such a strong perfume in the air surrounding them. "Tell me more. Who's running the show?"

"Admiral Jade." He noticed that her captain's mask was firmly in place. "She made first contact with them by accident after the end of the Dominion War. She's been working to establish a trade relationship with them, and then the piracy became a problem. She intends to take a small fleet, less than twenty all together. She needs people who can deal with pirates on the biggest ships. She wants some smaller Valiant class ships for patrolling. Two Intrepid class ships will be used for deep space exploration after the pirates have been eliminated. She's estimating that it will take about three years to deal with the pirates, unless someone with some expertise can help them get the job done faster."

He nodded at the reference to his Maquis experience. "Once we establish a presence on the station, we'll have to prioritize, but getting environmental systems will be first, of course. We suspect that the pirates on are the Pima face of the station."

"Pima face?"

"The station is eight-sided. It looks like two four sided pyramids stuck together at the base. Two of the sides are far larger than the others, no one is yet sure why it lacks symmetry, but we'll have the chance to figure that out. Each face has its own name. Pima is one of the smaller sides, it's in constant shadow because the station doesn't rotate."

"That must make environmental control difficult."

"We think it must, but the evidence that they're there is pretty clear, so they must be getting power from the adjoining Ahfec face. It appears to have most of the power-generating equipment for the station." She kicked her feet in the water, and took a slab of cheesy bread for a bite. "The larger sides, Malso and Formek, hold most of the living and trading areas. The others are unexplored, but we think that they may serve as warehousing or ship-servicing."

The captain's mask slipped a little as she continued to talk about the station. He had seen this sort of excitement on her face in the past, but now he could hear her relax as she discussed the probable tactics and possible futures of the station. The solitary stress of the Delta Quadrant wasn't pressing on her. She could have the adventure of the Gamma Quadrant and not face it alone.

He examined her body, trying to be less than obvious, but it was clear that she had regained the weight she had lost over seven years. Her eyes were clear and sparkling, animated with good cheer. Her hands were outlining something fluently, and he noticed that she looked better than she ever had in all the years he had known her.

"And you haven't heard a word I've been saying for the last five minutes."

He refocused on her face. It was true, he'd been looking her over like what? A starving man at a feast? A first officer concerned about his captain? A man who wanted her job?

"I'm sorry," he said, a hint of contrition in his voice. "When was the last time the Doctor saw you?"

She rolled her eyes before she glared at him. "January."

"Why did he see you?"

"If you must know, I had a horrible hangover."

"Kathryn Janeway, drunk?" He returned the glare. "I don't believe you."

"Oh, believe it." She returned to the water slowly, expressions of pain and pleasure alternating. "Mighty drunk."

"Why?"

She looked at the curtain of flowers beside her, and pulled one gently into her hand, then held it up to her nose. "You know, Chakotay, it's too damn hard to lie to you."

"Good."

"I got drunk because it was the anniversary of our exile in the Delta Quadrant. The people I wanted to be with were at my cabin in New York, and I was certain there wasn't enough room for me as well." She dropped her eyes to the flower, then looked up at him. "It was the most self-indulgent pity party that I've ever allowed myself. And trust me, I won't do it again."

"What did the Doctor say?"

"About what? The hangover? If I hadn't threatened to deprogram a few key subroutines, I imagine he would have had a lot to say. As it was, he gave me a shot of something that made me throw up and then I felt better."

"Not his usual treatment," was the comical reply as Chakotay hid his own mouth with a hand. "What about you?"

"What about me? I'm healthy, I've reduced my coffee consumption, gained the weight he wanted, my blood pressure is still high, but not as bad as it was. Is that what you wanted to know?"

"I wondered if he took credit for it."

"He's a doctor, not a fool." She splashed him with a playful kick, and turned to cross the pool to the curtain of orchids, pulling gently on one of the stems. "What about you? Do I pass your inspection?"

Chakotay tipped his head to one side. "I think so," he said, but his thoughts were far stronger. She'd never looked more beautiful. She may have hated a year's duty at Starfleet Command, but in reality, it had done her a world of good. She sparkled in good heath, sound mind, and excellent heart.

"Would you do me a favor?" he asked suddenly.

"Of course." It was a measure of their trust in each other that she asked no assurances before agreeing immediately to his request.

"Pull your hair up for a moment."

Her lopsided smile showed she wondered what provoked this demand, but she promptly gathered it up and adroitly twisted it into a loose roll that wouldn't hold for long.

"Yep," he said with satisfaction. "You look ten years younger."

"With my hair up?" she asked skeptically.

"No, it's just the way I first saw you, your hair up."

She blushed as her hair fell into tangles on her freckled shoulders. With the orchids behind her, it was an exquisite portrait of an estimable woman.

She returned his speculative, appreciative stare. The grey in his hair was more pronounced than the black, but the wrinkled forehead was smoother and the clenched jaw, so often part of his uniformed look on Voyager's bridge in the last year of their trip, was relaxed into a genuine smile.

"Rescuing the Maquis was good for you." He understood the non-sequitur.

"Thank you," he replied.

"I understood why you didn't include me in your plans, but you know, you could have."

"You were a part of my plans, Kathryn," he assured her. "If we were caught, you had to come rescue us."

She looked away, shaking her head. "Did you plan to let me in on that at some point?"

"I figured it was self-evident."

"I didn't have to. Riker and Worf had your backup already arranged. Mighty convenient, having the Enterprise show up, with Martok and Picard on board."

"I thought so at the time, but I couldn't ask Starfleet to back me up on this mission. It would have destroyed any chance for Picard to broker the peace treaty between them."

"What about you?" she asked, gently seeking a deeper level. "Are you at peace now?"

"That's a good question," he responded slowly. "Let's get to the top of that cliff and find out."

After returning to their camp, they were dressed and packing up when she straightened suddenly. "Captain Chakotay," she addressed him formally.

Kneeling over his pack nearby, he looked up as she walked over to stand in front of him, every inch of her the Starfleet officer he'd known for more than nine years.

"Captain Chakotay," she repeated after he stood, "it is my great honor and pleasure to award you the Federation Crossed Bars, in appreciation of your service in the matter of rescuing many Federation citizens being illegally held in an enemy captivity." She pinned the award to the collar of his flannel shirt, a golden prize of three short bars, crossed length-wise by one longer bar that was chased with a silver band. "Congratulations, Captain." She saluted him in the traditional Federation fashion, kissing him once on each cheek.

He stepped back from her smartly, and bowed from his waist, accepting the honor with equal formality.

"However," she continued, drawing his attention from his hand pulling his collar out so that he might see it, "as this covert mission was undertaken without Starfleet or Federation approval, and we have every reason to believe that its disclosure would have ramifications extending across the quadrant, we have sealed all records pertaining to this award, and you are hereby ordered to never disclose the reason for receiving it."

The humor in her voice made him smile. "You mean I'm being given an award that I'll be expected to wear every time I put on my dress uniform, but I can't tell anyone why I've got it?"

"Precisely," she replied playfully. "Think of it as Starfleet's revenge."

Her tone sparked the same in him. "Will B'Elanna, Tom and Annika also get this?"

"No, technically, Annika is not in Starfleet. The Crossed Bars award is an Andorian award for Starfleet personnel. She will be receiving the Triple Bars, the civilian equivalent."

He pulled at the pin. "You have one of these, don't you?"

"I have two of those." She glared at him, possibly daring him to ask. He knew of one, awarded privately to her with B'Elanna and Tuvok for their exploits when they were assimilated. He hadn't known about the other.

"A matched set," he said lightly, avoiding the challenge.

She returned to her pack and shoved in the last items. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Kathryn groaned. "I don't know what I was thinking, Chakotay. How did I ever think I would be able to climb that wall after sleeping all night on the ground?"

He reached out and took her hand. "Trust me."

First looking at the wall, then at him, she nodded.

Ducking around the first large boulder, he pulled off his pack. "I'll climb up, and pull up the packs, then you can follow. You're small enough to either climb up or go around and under that overhang."

She met him on the other side, and deftly caught their packs as he passed them down.

They were towards the back of the ravine, a darkened, shadowed place with tall ferns creating a green sanctuary. She heard a rustle and a slither nearby, but her eyes were focused on a ledge above here with a cascade of deep purple flowers and the incredible bird that rested on it. The colors were vibrant and exotic, blues and greening chasing each other with sheen of gold. "What is it?" she whispered.

"A quetzal. It's a national symbol for Guatemala, this area of Central America. He's lovely, isn't he?"

The bird apparently knew they were speaking of him, for he spread his feathered array and flew upward, away from them.

She stepped forward as if to catch it, and nearly tripped over a small square container with the old Starfleet insignia that matched the one on the tool that Chakotay had found the night before. "What's this?" she asked.

Dusting off some dirt, she found a metal box that was tightly closed, but it popped open with little effort. Inside she found several tins of emergency rations, still neatly lined up, the seals still holding after so many years. "Add this to your memorabilia collection, Chakotay," she offered.

"As long as I don't have to eat it. I do know where that came from, and it dates the pick. My father left that here when he had to return to the grove and they were dumping excess weight so they could make better speed down the mountain."

"Your father made that climb?"

"He was one of the first to climb this side of the ravine. They were on some quest, and he visited that cave up there." He pointed to the next boulder, higher than the first. "Up you go."

She accepted his boost, and climbed quickly to the top. "What am I doing here?"

"You're looking for treasure. Grab the packs, will you?"

She pulled them up. "And why did I agree to do that?"

"To talk me into not taking your job."

"Have I done that yet?"

Her tone of voice amused him as he climbed up the boulder. "Nope."

She looked at the ten-meter drop on the far side of the boulder. "That's ok, because I'm going to die here, right?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it, Kathryn." He pointed to an oddly cut stone behind her. "Up that way."

She pivoted carefully and saw the set of five tall steps before the cliff blocked her view.

"Up?" she asked. "All the way to the top?" She glanced upwards, trying to spot the tope of the cliff through the vast vines and conifer trees. "There's steps, all the way to the top?"

"All the way to the top." He confirmed it with a full smile.

She glared at him. "You let me think that I was going to have to free-climb that cliff, didn't you?"

He didn't - quite - laugh at her. "I said we had to climb up the cliff. You made an assumption and didn't ask me."

Her relief at finding she didn't have to face that climb overwhelmed her outrage. "Ok, you got me," she said, smiling back at him.

For the first time, she allowed a particular emotion to show, and he acknowledged its presence by taking her hand, and kissing it gently.

"You father found these steps?"

"Not on his first visit. We came back when I was a teenager. He and Hector Diaz, the owner of that coffee grove above the village, came back to see what supplies survived after fifteen years up here. Most of it was gone, either someone found it or it was destroyed by the exposure. But they did find these steps. They think they're over two thousand years old."

She shouldered her pack and snapped a few buckles. "Let's go, Mr. Chakotay."

The steps were consistently the same width, barely a meter, although their height was erratic, and the turnings were often sharp and unexpected. At one point, she thought that the steps had reached a dead end, but instead, a sharp angled turn had them facing away from the cliff as they climbed. Another turn was masked by a fall of sweetly scented orchids growing down from a tree branch, shading the steps below in a twilight aura.

Standing beneath them, she took her rest and waited for Chakotay to meet her. He smiled down at her, and catching her breath, she saw that look she feared she had lost forever. "We're almost there."

The width of the stairs prohibited them from walking side by side, and as she turned to pull back the spray of flowers, his hand took hers in his. For a minute, as fast and slow as it was, Kathryn's breath disappeared as she turned to look at him standing on the step below her. She felt no confusion or fear, no anticipation or remorse. It was enough to be here, right now, with this man.

The final flight of steps took them to a small bridge that crossed the ravine, and they followed the footpath to the mouth of the Eye. They could hear the echoes of another group of people, laughing and giggling at themselves as they crossed over to the Dos side of the mountain.

"Tell me about this cave, Chakotay," she asked, and they paused, hoping that the other team would clear out quickly. There needed to be soberness, a serious intent, and the high-pitched squeals broke the spell.

"It's a lava cave, formed by the volcano. They believe that the two mountains, Uno Anpotol and Dos Anpotol, were once one large volcano, possibly the largest in Central America. The last explosion was a pyroclastic one - big explosion, lots of lava, lots of mudslides, massive destruction - blew the top right off the mountain and created the plateaus where the village and the coffee grove are now. The other side of Dos Anpotol is one long series of ridges from sequential lava flows and settling ash. Dos goes off every few decades, spews mostly ash, a bit of lava down the far side. Wipes out the coffee harvest for the year, but the following years are always bigger harvests for the fertilization from the ash. About a century ago, Dos had it last major eruption and wiped out ten coffee villages with a single mudslide. My father's family was displaced by the eruption. That's why they decided to go to Trebus."

"There's some irony in there, isn't there, Chakotay?" she asked rhetorically. "Another cataclysmic explosion has forced you to leave your home, too."

He had not considered that thought before, and paused to let it simmer for a moment. "I think you're right. My family never regretted going to Trebus, no matter how hard it was. It was simply what they chose to do, and they made it work. If it wasn't for the Cardassians, they would still be there, very happy." After a moment, he continued. "But I wouldn't be. Even if I hadn't joined the Maquis, I wouldn't have ever considered going back permanently."

"Did you want to go back? If the plans for terraforming Trebus were not going forward, what would you do?"

A misty cloud rolled in on top of them, blocking all views of the vista below, even the pine trees only a few meters away completely disappeared.

"I would still be in Starfleet. I enjoyed my time there. Here. I disagreed with things, but for the most part, I loved my career." Chakotay shifted the pack on his shoulders. "I thought, when we came back, and heard what had happened to the Maquis here, that the Federation had done nothing to free them, then I truly hated Starfleet. Everything they stood for, everything they had ever done was shameful. I couldn't see past the fact that I was promoted. I was given everything that I had ever dreamed of having, my own ship, my own command, respect, a chance to do some interesting research, while Tom Riker and the rest died of starvation on Cardassia."

Tears fell from her eyes. "I know how you felt."

Perhaps she did. Seven years of exile, the deaths of half of her crew, and she was made into the hero of the Delta Quadrant who brought her crew seventy thousand light-years back home.

He wiped the tears tenderly from her cheeks. "I know. You and I may be the only ones who understand it. B'Elanna, Ayala, they feel it, but it didn't consume them, the way it did me."

She nodded and thought about her own battles with obsession over the last nine years.

"My father called me a contrary. I was born contrary, and all my life, I've been contrary."

"I would have liked your father," she said teasingly.

"He would have liked you. You remind me of my mother sometimes. I used to think it was because you were both from Earth, but I think that it's deeper than that. Maybe personality. Maybe character."

Kolopak looked around the corral with curiosity. He'd seen the herd of llamas as he walked up the hill to the barn, but none answered his whistled call.

The message from Hector at the communication station had been rather abrupt, giving him only Margarita's address and a message that she asked that he contact her before leaving Earth. His tone of voice wasn't precisely cold, but it lacked the warmth with which they had parted three months before.

With still no sign of either Margarita or Groucho, he headed to an old metal barn. If she wasn't there, the houses beyond the barn might have some information for him on how to locate her.

He felt his eyebrow and forehead carefully. It still stung badly, even three weeks later, and was hot to the touch. He should see if someone had a dermal regenerator or something…no. He would leave it to heal by itself.

A black llama stood by the fence, his head high over his shoulders, ears forward in a position of attention. He whistled, and the llama turned his face toward Kolopak. It was Groucho.

Until that moment, Kolopak had not cried for Caffey. His relief at finding the pump and the evidence that would clear Margarita from any charges of sabotage had overwhelmed any other emotion, but now, looking at Groucho, those tears fell. He leaned against the llama's neck and cried.

It didn't take long for Romeo or Felix to find their way over to Kolopak. He pulled out a few stray peanuts that had survived in his pocket, and fed them each one. Felix, always on the lookout for a free peanut, spotted another man on the other side of the corral and ran toward him.

Kolopak wiped his eyes carefully, and stood quietly, his arms hanging at his sides. He could find it in his heart to be grateful that it was not Groucho who died. He knew how much it hurt Margarita, and he mourned with her. Groucho turned away, and seemed to focus on someone behind him. Romeo hummed and pushed against the fence, pushing his neck out over it toward the welcomed scratching hand.

"Hello, Pokolok," Margarita said as she flipped a peanut into Romeo's waiting mouth.

"Margarita." He turned to her and put out his hands. "I wasn't sure I found the right place."

She waved at the houses beyond the barn. "I'm staying there for right now."

"And Liberica?"

"She's on her way to New Zealand even as we speak." At his tilted head, she added, "It's Earth's penal institution. She's going to be there for at least six years."

She leaned back against the fencing, looking out toward the far-off Andes. "That lens you found explained how she managed to start the fire. She'd been up the day before, demanding a tour of the grove. She told Marcos she didn't think he was managing it well and that she should be getting more income from the grove. He took her up and gave her a full tour. The latest batch of fertilizer had just been sprayed on the trees' roots. It's organic, but highly flammable. She found a place where the lens would get enough direct sunlight to start a little fire, and the fertilizer acted like an accelerant. There was nothing that could have stopped it but a massive storm."

He stood beside her, studying the vista. "How's Hector taking it?"

"I don't think he cares too much just who did it, to be honest. He was never close to Liberica. The destruction of the grove; that's hurt him badly." Another peanut was tossed to Romeo before Groucho could press forward to cut him out. "Marcos was devastated by the destruction in the grove. It will take years to get harvest production levels back up."

Kolopak nodded sadly. "And Robusto? What's happening to him?"

"At this point, nothing. There was no evidence that he conspired with his sister to burn down the grove, but Hector's received several death threats." She cleared her throat. "Marcos has a favor he wants me to ask of you."

"Marcos? Why?"

"Why? That plant that you pulled up to the top of the ravine was a coffee tree. As the discoverer of the plant, you are considered to be its owner. That plant has the potential to be a fertile coffee hybrid, something we've been trying for centuries to develop. Marcos would like to have the first opportunity to bid on the fruit of the plant."

"I can't own a plant." He scoffed at the idea. "It's like owning the sky."

"Around here, you can do that too, Kolopak. That plant has the potential of making you a very wealthy man."

He shook his head. "I'm going home. I have no interest in the plant. Give it to the Coffee Institute. Make a scholarship for the study of llamas grazing in coffee fields." His voice cracked. "I don't care."

She watched him silently, and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "You would have the money you need to get Kanicha to come to Trebus."

The surprise on his face showed her that she was wrong about him. "I'm sorry, I put that badly. Kanicha will have to pay the immigration fees to join you on Trebus. The proceeds from that plant will pay for it, right now, without waiting."

He nodded and accepted her apology, then shook his head. "It's wrong of me to even think about Kanicha coming to Trebus now. I have no house for her, no money for her fees. She is too young for me to approach her or her parents. Five years, I'll have a house, I can save up for the fees, she can finish her education. I'll talk to her then."

His honor was very principled. She nodded, agreeing that it was a good, a right plan, but her doubts won out. "She's so young, Kolopak. She might not want to come in five years."

He brushed the thought aside. It didn't bear thinking about. "Is Kanicha fickle, then?"

She shook her head. "No, where Kanicha loves, she loves."

He smiled widely, which led to a grimace. He touched his forehead gingerly.

"I have a request of you, too." She ignored his action as she ignored his new tattoo.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Take Hector with you to Trebus."

"Take Hector? Why?"

"I wasn't joking when I said that Hector has received death threats. We haven't traced them to his uncle, but no one doubts the source. If we can get him off Earth for six months, it should be safe for him to come back."

"Why six months?"

"Trust me. Robusto never did anything longer than six months. He would forget to order the fertilizer for next year if his sister Arabica didn't remind him. He'll forget about this revenge if Hector is out of reach."

"If Hector would like to come to Trebus, I would greatly enjoy showing him my home. How can I reach him?"

"I know where he is. But he won't go unless you make it a," she paused, searching for the right word, "reasonable request. Like if you were taking llamas back to Trebus."

His eyes lit up, and another smile curved his mouth. "If I could, I would, Margarita. The passage alone for one animal in stasis is astronomical. I couldn't ever afford it." He looked longingly at the llamas alongside the fence.

"Marcos can." She took a deep breath. "Marcos needs to get Hector off Earth. He's willing to pay for the transport of five female llamas to Trebus, if necessary. I think though, I've found a way to avoid the expense."

"What's that?"

"Chakotay and his family are returning to Cresius for his next rotation. They're leaving in a few weeks. He's willing to take you home, with Hector, and ten llamas."

"Ten llamas?"

"Don't try to negotiate it. If he says he can carry ten, then that's all he can carry. He has a cargo ship already lined up for the voyage. It's not the fastest way to get to Trebus, but you'll get there. Hector can help you handle the llamas, he's got the knack, especially with the females."

Kolopak reached over and gently rubbed Groucho's soft neck. For once, Groucho didn't move away.

"If he's willing to come, I would want him to come without having him work."

"He won't come unless he's got a good reason to go. Llama care is a good reason. He'll be helping you establish your stud farm, and he needs the opportunity to get off Earth. He's getting a little provincial." She squeezed his arm. "Please, Kolopak."

He tilted his head at her in a very llama-like fashion. "Of course."

She smiled at him, glancing at his tattoo for the first time. "You know, if llamas turn out to be successful on Trebus, you'll have the money you need to bring Kanicha to Trebus far sooner."

"Three years," he said absently, looking at Groucho. "He's been gelded, hasn't he?"

"Yes, all my packers are gelded." She scratched Groucho behind the ears briskly before he pulled away. "I had another incentive, if I needed it."

"What was that?"

"I have sperm from Groucho and Chico. You can take them, if you like. For your herd."

"A good thing you didn't need the added incentive. I would have taken them."

She examined his tattoo. "Kanicha told me you went to Brazil. What did they do that with, a bird feather?"

"Uhhh, yes, they did," he replied carefully. She traced the lines over his left eyebrow that traced over his ear, where the shaved hair was starting to grow back in.

"Let's get you inside. I've got something to clean up that infection, and you can call Hector."

Kathryn looked around the cave curiously. "Aren't there supposed to be stalactites and stalagmites in caves?"

"Some caves, yes. This one is too high, and the water condensation that comes from the clouds dilutes any acid ground water than might contribute to their formation," Chakotay answered absently, his eyes focused on the tricorder in front of him.

He pulled on his helmet, activating the light, and began to walk down the cave corridor. She noticed there was little bat guano, and while the immediate area of the cave entrance was covered with moss and a few hanging vines with ugly flowers. They moved deeper in where the walls were wet, the floor covered with a stream that flowed down toward the opposite entrance. It was damp and rank, and she set her mind to help him find whatever he was looking for quickly, so that they could get out of there. That hot spring had some more possibilities.

He reached up and flipped on her headlight. "I'm looking for a large boulder," he began, and stopped at a side path. "And here it is."

She stood behind him as he scanned the opening. "It hasn't been touched. Come on." He dropped his pack on a dry spot and ducked down to find an opening large enough for him to get through.

Kathryn had no problem sliding past the boulder and walking into the room. The walls were damp, but not dripping like the cave corridor. She noticed the items on the floor quickly, stepping aside to avoid breaking them, and caught sight of the magnificent carving.

With only flashlights, the shadows and the directed beams would not have created enough light to see the relief carving on the far wall of the cave. Objects she could only speculate about glistened in the bright light, and painted hieroglyphics told their stories.

Chakotay pointed a different tricorder at the walls, and waited a few minutes until the computer began to report, translating the ancient heiroglyphics in Standard. "This is the beginning of my story. I am a cutter of jade for the chief of Xito. I tell my story here to the gods, that no man would know it."

Kathryn's head swung around, her lamp illuminating the writing on the wall. "Half the glyphs are wiped out."

"The computer is able to scan for residual paint that we can't see," Chakotay explained as the computer rescanned the area, but he didn't activate the report function. Instead, he came to stand by the pot of paint sitting on the floor, and looking upwards, sighed with satisfaction.

"What did you find?"

"My father's name." He pointed to a slightly darker bit of writing on the wall.

In the reflected light, she saw his tears this time, and she stroked his face.

"My father was given a vision when he was ten years old that he should go to Earth and find this cave. While he was here, he had an extraordinary vision of death. He tried to tell me about it when I came with him to Earth, but I was more interested in some girl in the village than I was in hearing about his hiking trip. From here he went to Brazil, where he got his tattoo. Then he came home, and my mother joined him later." He snapped the tricorder closed, and climbed out.

The cave was empty, the young voices and their echoes had vanished, and the two picked up their packs and walked away from Kolopak's room toward the far end of the cave corridor. The light grew with every step, and here was the evidence of local wildlife and flora. Stepping into the sunlight after the cloudy mist at the far end made her feel like she had been transported to a new world. They walked down the slight incline into a grassy meadow.

Across the valley, Dos Anpotol smoked a lazy stream into the sky, but otherwise, the skies were clear and intensely blue.

"I don't want your job, Kathryn." He said it suddenly. "But I am interested in the project."

"I'll need a first officer," she began, but he interrupted her quickly.

"No, I'll never serve under you again." He put his pack on the ground, and rather roughly, did the same with hers. "I'm interested in one of the ships."

Her smile competed with the sunlight. "I think that Admiral Jade would be willing to do that."

"Good." He pulled her close and kissed her, gathering her into his arms as their lips connected.

She kept her eyes closed as he raised his head slightly. "Know anyplace that we might find a little privacy?" he said as the hikers ahead of them began to sing some song in loud and raucous voices.

"I might." She pulled a combadge from her pocket. "Janeway to Prillwitz."

"Prillwitz here."

"Where's the squid?"

"Indiana. He's casing the bars in Bloomington."

"Good." She turned and kissed him this time. "Any place in particular you'd like to go?"

"First, Admiral Paris' office."

"Prillwitz, two to beam to Starfleet Command, transporter deck 7. And see if you can track down Tom and B'Elanna, and get them there too."

"Aye, Captain." Prillwitz's voice had a jovial tone to it, a little incongruous to Chakotay's assumption that it would be deep and intense. "I've located Admiral Paris, he's on Voyager right now. Would you prefer to go directly there?"

"You read my mind." She commended him with a throaty laugh. "Tom and B'Elanna?"

There was a longer pause that Chakotay put to good use, pulling his lips away from hers only when Prillwitz reported that the Paris family was on their way to Voyager and would arrive within the hour.

"You're going to make an excellent Station Security officer, Henry." Chakotay kissed her nose as she said, "Two to beam to Voyager."

Kolopak was sad to see Hector board the ship, but he did understand Hector's desire to return to Earth. The llamas, all ten of them pregnant females, had done remarkably well on the trip. K'Lura and her sons didn't care for the smell, but were kind enough to not make more than a few comments per day on the thirty-three day trip to Trebus. They even set down the ship on the planet near Kolopak's village to let the llamas walk out onto their new home soil, rather than beaming them. It hadn't been pretty dealing with them after their first experience beaming aboard. That it allowed the cargo bay to effect a complete atmosphere exchange didn't register with Kolopak until they were long away.

Hector had poured his energies into constructing a barn for the llamas, which absolutely refused to enter it. Their new home, dry and cool, was so much to their liking that they never needed it.

The first cria was born about a month after their arrival. The birth was smooth and easy, and the llama mother and child were quickly established in the village as great favorites. The children had begged for the right to name the little boy llama, but Kolopak deferred them to the next birth.

Four more births had taken place without a single loss before Marcos sent word that Hector should come home. The subspace message was terse, but Marcos looked better than he had six months before when he had come to see them off. No details about the grove were provided, but it seemed that whatever plans for revitalization that Margarita and Marcos had planned were agreeable and probably well in hand.

Hector enjoyed the village, making numerous suggestions for a name for it, but so far, none had been chosen. Hectorville had been met with hoots of laughter, and Diaz Plantation Number Two with screams of derision from the children. Hector was a great favorite with them too, and they had all received an invitation to visit him whenever they came to Earth.

If his private farewells with a particular young woman were a little sad, they did not compare with his departure from Kolopak.

"Come back to Earth. I need you to help with the grove." Hector's voice wasn't quite begging, but his great desire for his friend to return with him was obvious.

Kolopak had gestured to his village. "I can't leave here permanently any more than you could stay. I went to Earth on a quest. I've fulfilled it. It's time to stay here, build a home for…"

But the name that he expected to say wouldn't come out of his mouth. It was puzzling to Kolopak, but Hector didn't seem to notice. "You should have kept the rights to that plant."

"Your father has the first trials. You can pay me back sometime if they turn out."

Hector had been confident they would. "But it will be five years before we'll see any good fruit."

"I'll come back then. For a visit."

It had appeased Hector, if not distracted him from Kolopak's other reason for returning to Earth.

Kolopak fed some chaya through the fence to one of the pregnant mares in his compound. The llamas might be his favorite to tend, but there was still the need for the horses, cows and pigs in his village, and Maggie here was due to deliver any time.

"She's lovely." Her voice didn't surprise him at all. It was as if unconsciously he had been expecting her for some time.

He turned and took the woman into his arms, and kissed her with tenderness, then a growing passion. "I didn't know until now," he confessed to her nose, kissing it gently.

Margarita's arms were wrapped around his neck. "That's ok," she whispered back. "I knew right away."

"I said some things to you about Kanicha. How I wanted her to come and join me here. I want you to know that I…"

She placed a quieting finger on his lips, and then kissed him. "I knew. Kanicha won't ever leave that mountain. I hoped you would understand that before you left, but you were being a little dense at that point."

"I was, wasn't I." He dropped his forehead against hers. "It seems so clear, now. Kanicha was…I thought she was…"

"You thought you were in love. It was pretty obvious. Hector was sure he could talk you into coming back and getting you two together."

"He tried," Kolopak said, a touch of ruefulness in his voice. "I realized, when I was talking to him, that when I was expecting my bride, her name didn't come to mind."

She smiled at his blushing face. "She didn't? I mean, it didn't?"

"No. I realized that I might be going back to Earth at some point, but I wasn't going for her."

"Back for more llamas?"

"More llamas? No, I've got quite a herd up and coming now. I think that I'd like to introduce you to one of them."

"I helped you pick them out, Pokolap."

He kissed her. "No one's ever called me by a nickname before."

"I give people nicknames all the time." She teased his lips with hers. "Do you mind?"

Feeling her in his arms, leaning against him in a luxurious embrace, he forgot her question and kissed her again.

"The llamas?" she reminded him again, eventually. But she seemed a little out of breath, too.

"I love you." He said it with finality. "Marry me."

"Of course."

"I made a vow that my first son would be named Chakotay."

Her grin grew slowly across his face. "Then maybe we ought to do something about that."

His answering smile showed her how much he wanted to do that.

He turned her around and walked her around the new barn, where a llama chewed her cud, her eyes half-closed, but at the sound of the gate, she swiveled her ears around, tracking their progress. They approached her carefully, and Kolopak handed Margarita a few peanuts from his pocket. "This is Pearl."

Margarita extended the peanuts on an open palm, and the llama delicately picked them up, not at all like Felix doing his vacuum imitation.

"What did you do with the boys?" he asked as Margarita ran her hand down the llama's neck.

"Kanicha has them. She's been back up to the Arrow twice with climbers since you and Hector left. She's getting quite a reputation as a guide. Even the Grouch likes her. He comes when she whistles."

Kolopak chuckled a little at the memory of Groucho. "Did you teach him how to tango?"

"I did. He performed it beautifully at the rededication of the grove the week before I left. I won enough money for my trip here."

The llama skittered sideways, and Margarita got her first look at the little cria who had been nursing while they were talking. The little black and white llama popped his head up and scampered over to the side of the fence and frolicked back in a skipping gait that made his humans smile.

Kolopak pointed to the baby llama. "This is Caffey."