As if Tuvok's decision summoned them, T'Hela and Tom Paris phoned them that day. They had seen the ad in The Times Classifieds: "Tuvok and Janeway to Voyager Shipmates—Please Phone Home. 212-555-9801."

Janeway watched her friends' eyes widen in shock as Tuvok explained the circumstances and their decision. She saw more than shock in T'Hela's eyes—she saw hurt and betrayal. "What of Stevek in all this?" T'Hela demanded. "Are we to just allow him to be shot and left to die?"

"The needs of the many," Tuvok intoned, "outweigh the needs of the few or the one."

"Ah yes," T'Hela hissed, "how often that is quoted by the few when they wish to sacrifice the one in the name of the many."

"Commander T'Hela...," Tuvok reproved warningly.

"You—Kate—you agreed to this?"

Janeway leaned toward T'Hela and looked unflinchingly into two unblinking obsidian eyes. "T'Hela, I worked hard to convince Tuvok of the necessity. I do not see much choice—I care about Stevek too."

"But you think it 'logical' to abandon him." T'Hela's voice was flat.

Paris shook his head. "Kate, I have to say I'm surprised at you too. What happened to the woman who risked her life more times than I can count rather than leave behind one shipmate?

Janeway lowered her eyes to the floor. "I don't think we could prevent Stevek being shot and captured if we tried. If the historical accounts I've read are accurate, it happened very fast."

Paris' eyes narrowed. "But you said he later escaped."

"Yes, we can hope..."

"We can do more than hope—we can make it happen. Why can't we help that little piece of history along?"

"What is the point of sacrificing our futures if we force this timeline to diverge by our own interference?" Tuvok asked.

Paris swept his gaze over all of them. "If we stay here, we are the timeline. We are the past and the present and the future. We are the history of this century and this planet and have as much right to shape our destiny as anyone else."

"Those who live in the present usually don't have a map to the future," Janeway objected. "It's too risky with all that's at stake."

"Well, Kate, that's not your decision in this reality." Paris' eyes glittered. "Hell—we take such a chance if we keep on breathing. Captain Tuvok, sir. How about it? Should we slit our wrists now, or are you just waiting for Harry and S'Fal to show up first?"

Tuvok pointedly ignored Paris' flippant tone. "Very well, Mr. Paris. You have three weeks until Stevek's arrival by Lieutenant Janeway's calculations although none of the historical accounts give the date of his escape. Lieutenant Janeway, show him everything you have about Stevek's capture and detention. I don't know of anyone better suited to plan a 'break-out' than Mr. Paris. We shall give Stevek the best chance of survival we can."

v v v

Hours later, exhausted, Janeway entered her dark bedroom to find T'Hela sitting with her legs tucked unto the windowsill, watching the rain outside with fascination. Her slim figure looked curiously vulnerable perched up there leaning against the window for support.

T'Hela turned a stony face toward Janeway. "Tuvok tells me we shall have to share this room for now."

Janeway drew up a chair near the window and sat down facing her friend. "T'Hela, I am sorry. You are right. I gave up too easily on Stevek. Please forgive me."

One of the things Janeway loved about T'Hela is that she did not, as most Vulcans would have, reply by saying "apologies are illogical." She stared at Janeway a minute and then said, "You who have lived years amongst us, do you truly believe we are without feeling?"

Janeway shook her head. "No. And I imagine that, as with many difficult and exacting paths, Surak's way is often 'more honored in the breach than the observance.' No culture is a monolith, no matter how they might try to present themselves to outsiders. There are always dissenters."

"...and misfits." T'Hela lowered her voice to a whisper. "Stevek and T'Paya believed that Surak's teachings have been perverted. That you cannot reconcile the writings of a man who wished us to bind ourselves to reason with closing ourselves to new realities. That you cannot reconcile the words of a man who wished us to take delight in and learn from diversity with requiring us to all rigidly conform to traditions from a savage past. That you cannot reconcile the acts of a man who gave his life to keep us to the path of peace with the purge of those who peacefully disagree. They believed that Vulcan should not close itself to outworlders and the new ways of thinking they would bring."

"Stevek of all people, then, would understand what we are trying to do."

"Yes, but Stevek and T'Paya were careful only to speak so to close friends and family—the price of doing otherwise is too high. Tell me—what had you heard on the ship of how I came to be born and raised in a Human colony?"

"The Vulcans don't discuss it—at least among Humans. The Humans speculate that your family got separated from Vulcan because of the war."

"My great-grandfather and his followers—the Kro'ni'var—were forced into exile from Vulcan because he tried openly to spread the heresies that others dare only whisper to each other. Worse, he acted upon them and flaunted emotions openly. He was inheritor to the most powerful clan on Vulcan—the clan of Surak. It was a scandal and played into the hands of those resisting a call for a more closely bound interstellar alliance with a common Starfleet. 'This is what comes of contact with Humans,' they said. His father had wanted to remarry—a Human woman he had met while serving as Ambassador to Earth. It would have been the first such union—but the Clan Matriarch after that refused permission. The Clan does not acknowledge that he was ever born. They have erased his very existence."

T'Hela looked away from Janeway and out into the street. "I wanted to know my own people so I returned to Vulcan to try to reclaim clan-right. The price of staying on Vulcan was to renounce my family and cleave to the path. Even so I did not gain clan membership or my inheritance—only Vulcan citizenship. They even placed in me a mindblock against my saying Great-Grandfather's name." T'Hela bowed her head. "The path is a hard discipline even for one who was trained to it from birth. I began too old."

"From what I have seen, you have kept discipline."

"A Human might be so deceived. I found that Vulcan could never be my true home. I was out-clan and no one wished to bond with me. I was cleft in two—of Vulcan descent but of Human heritage. The VSA, the only place where Humans and Vulcans work together, was the only possible place I could feel at home."

"Why tell me this now?"

Janeway had to strain to hear T'Hela. "Before she left on that last mission, T'Paya told me she wished us to become sworn t'hy'la so she could adopt me into her own clan. There is no greater gift one Vulcan could give another. You and T'Paya—while she lived—were the sisters of my heart. I have no other now but you."

"Nor I." Janeway thought of her own sister, forever lost to her on the other side of the time portal. She dared to reach out and take T'Hela's hands in both of her own. "I swear I will do all I can to bring Stevek back to us."

In the light streaming from the street Janeway could see that T'Hela's face remained expressionless—but through the touch T'Hela let her feel a smile.

v v v

Two weeks later, while Tom Paris was shopping for a "getaway car," as he called it, Harry Kim showed up with S'Fal in tow.

This time Tuvok's recitation went over even less well than before.

S'Fal rose from her seat. "No—I do not accept your logic. I doubt your sanity. I demand that you give me your thoughts. As Healer, it is my right."

Tuvok bowed his head and acquiesced. S'Fal placed her fingers on Tuvok's meld points. Her hawkish visage made S'Fal look like an attacking bird of prey. Janeway shivered. There was something about the posture of the familiar meld process that was already beginning to disturb her. A shudder went through Tuvok's frame. Then Tuvok's face creased in agony and his mouth opened in a silent scream.

T'Hela rushed to Tuvok's side, yelling "Kroykah!" She pried S'Fal's fingers from Tuvok's face and threw her away from Tuvok. S'Fal sprang back to attack T'Hela, but Tuvok rose behind her and used the Vulcan nerve pinch. S'Fal melted to the floor.

Tuvok moaned and shook his head between his hands.

Janeway reached out toward Tuvok but T'Hela prevented her. "Do not touch a Vulcan in such a state—it is not safe for either of you."

"What did she do to him?" Janeway cried, concerned. "A healer's meld is not supposed to cause such pain. Not when neither party is in pain to begin with."

Tuvok raised his head and answered. "She went beyond simply trying to verify truth or read my surface thoughts—I could feel my very katra being fingered by her probe."

"She should have her mind melding centers wiped for this," T'Hela said.

"I consented," Tuvok answered calmly.

"Not to this," T'Hela countered.

"There is no harm done. She simply overreacted to disturbing news."

"Overreacted?" Kim interjected. "I know hate when I see it. She hates us. I thought those who achieve Kolinahr are without emotion."

Janeway didn't miss the wary look T'Hela and Tuvok exchanged at that remark.

Tuvok easily lifted S'Fal into his arms. "T'Hela—I will require your assistance with S'Fal. Follow me please." T'Hela followed Tuvok into his room.

v v v

"Oops—Looks like the grownups have something to keep from the kids." Kim winked at Janeway.

"We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto." Janeway replied grinning.

"No—much worse—we're in New York City."

"Well one thing both those places have in common—they're on Earth—a place neither of us ever hoped to see."

"Yeah, well—we're in the right place—wrong time. Although I bet Tom doesn't agree—this entire century is his hobby. He must be in heaven."

Janeway clapped him playfully on the shoulder. "C'mon—I'll cook us up two of my famous omelets. Food made with fresh produce from Fairway and Zabars sure beats the food synthesizers any day."

"I thought you hated to cook," Kim said.

"I did—until I got a taste of Tuvok's cooking—after that I developed a quick interest in the culinary arts. Besides, hating it doesn't mean I'm bad at it."

Kim's eyes took in the dimensions of their new apartment. Janeway and Tuvok had moved here a few days before T'Hela and Paris had arrived. The short time Kim had spent trying to find a place to stay had impressed upon him how much New York City space was at a premium. "Say, how are we able to afford all of this?"

"Well, a little discreet investment of our Silicon Alley wages—not that they'll be calling it that until a decade from now—into the commodities market can go a long way when you have centuries worth of Wall Street Journals lying around on your hard drive." Janeway looked down at the ring she had been able to reclaim from the pawnshop with satisfaction.

v v v

Janeway was waiting for T'Hela in their room. "Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"

"I could not tell you S'Fal's story even if I knew it. That is her tale to tell if she so chooses. But I do know that the discipline of Kolinahr is extreme, and not undergone unless one is driven to it by a complete loss of control."

"I don't pretend to understand her."

"Kate, have you ever wondered why Vulcans do not eat meat?"

Janeway frowned at the seeming change of subject. "I always understood it was because of ethical considerations."

"No—it is because we are predators by nature, and we take care not to partake of anything that would inflame us. We are driven to extremes to control emotion because we are an extreme people. Without Surak we would be no better than the Romulans."

Janeway grunted. "Isn't that exactly what they are? Vulcans without Surak?"

"Perhaps. It would comport with legends of 'the lost.' It is hard to tell when our only contact is corpses—theirs and ours. Under Surak's way we do not express emotion except within a bond and in highly ritualized ways. We use techniques such as meditation and mental disciplines daily to examine ourselves and purge any excessive emotion. Every Vulcan who follows Surak's path pays a price, but those who obtain Kolinahr pay a far steeper one."

T'Hela paused, and Janeway stood still, silently encouraging her to continue. She was afraid that if she drew a breath T'Hela would remember it was a Human she was telling this to.

T'Hela went and sat down on her futon next to Janeway's bed. "Here in New York City, Paris and I have seen people living on the streets who are obviously delusional. While we were searching for you and Stevek, I asked a social worker why there are so many left in that state in a relatively affluent society. She told me many of them choose to remain mad and live on the streets rather than be forced to take the antipsychotic drugs that would bring them sanity. Those drugs act by blocking neurotransmitters such as serotonin and dopamine in the brain. Those medicated with them feel like they are wrapped in cotton—neuroleptics prevent creative thinking, and emotions are blunted and pushed down. The result is indifference and apathy. She told me that the 'sparkle, vitality and exuberance of being alive' are cut off by these drugs.

Kolinahr is much the same. The techniques they teach at Gol will prevent Pon Farr altogether and allow an initiate to control physiological reactions—including those accompanying emotion. A Kolinahr initiate could stop his own heart at will—let alone prevent sexual desire. But Kate—no creativity—no art—no science—no family—only a sterile stasis is possible then. Gol is the one place on Vulcan I would have been admitted to without question—and the one place I never wanted to be. It is too high a price to pay for peace. Whatever S'Fal's story is—it is a tragedy."

"Are you asking me to pity her?" Janeway asked incredulously. "It was you who was so outraged by her behavior not long ago."

"No—no Vulcan would ask for or want pity. I simply inform you that it may be wise to withhold judgment. Tuvok reminded me that we do not know her full context."

"Are you asking me to trust her?"

"No, Kate—for I do not. The discipline of Kolinahr has been known to unravel if a practitioner leaves Gol. Those who are completely without emotion have problems in making decisions or exercising good judgment. That is why Gol is so austere and isolated. Those who break Kolinahr are often dangerous if they have not resolved what brought them there in the first place and achieve integration. They can become the Vulcan equivalent of a Human sociopath—and they have full mastery over mind and body. They have purpose but no compassion. If that is what is happening or has happened to S'Fal..." T'Hela shuddered. "It would make her a terrible enemy to have."

"Hmm—maybe we'd better hold off trusting her to bob yours and Tuvok's ears."

"T'Hela's hands flew up to her ear tips. "Is that really necessary?"

"Winter won't last forever," Janeway teased. "Soon you won't be able to hide them under a wool hat. There's a limit to what even New Yorkers can take in stride."

"Kathryn, this is serious. Tuvok is with her now."

"Is that safe?"

"We've put her under restraints and used some of the medicine she brought with her to sedate her. Tuvok told me to go and rest. When I wake, I will stand vigil and he will sleep. No unconscious Vulcan should be left alone."

"When will she recover?"

"Tuvok is not sure." T'Hela covered a yawn with her hand. "Good night, Kathryn."

"Good night, T'Hela."

v v v

When S'Fal awoke, she begged pardon for her lack of control and the clumsiness of her meld. Tuvok appeared to accept her explanation. None of them trusted her now, but neither did they want to face life here without a physician. T'Hela wanted to do a probe of her own of S'Fal's intentions, but Tuvok overruled her. He feared that S'Fal, with her training and experience, could take over the meld. S'Fal was moved into Janeway's and T'Hela's room. By common consent, no one left S'Fal alone except during her meditation period. Vulcan custom respected that as an inviolate, private matter. Tuvok and T'Hela kept their pointed ears for now.

Finally came the day where a future diverged. Tuvok, Kim, and Paris kept surveillance in a van on the corner of the street and day a "strange green man" had gone berserk. They watched as Stevek erupted into the street and backhanded a pedestrian who jostled him. The man lay crumpled on the street with his head at an odd angle. The street emptied of people as if the area had been swept by a tractor beam. New Yorkers know to get out of the way of danger.

A police officer tried to restrain Stevek and joined the pedestrian on the concrete. That's when his partner shot Stevek in the chest. It was fortunate for Stevek that a Vulcan's heart lies elsewhere. The three VSA officers took note of the name of the hospital on the ambulance and followed Stevek there.

Kim strode nonchalantly into the ER with his doctor's coat and stethoscope. The doctors would not have noticed him if he had walked in naked. Right now they were trying to cope with the sight of green blood. Their shock only deepened when they noticed that even though Stevek had a pulse their stethoscopes couldn't find a heartbeat in the accustomed spot.

Kim's assignment was simple. Get close enough to Stevek to inject a subcutaneous transponder, so they could monitor his movements and listen in on any conversations around him. Then get out. Kim winced while he watched the doctors swarm around Stevek and inject something into his IV drip. It would be a wonder if Stevek wasn't killed by a reaction to such drugs before they could extract him. Paris didn't want anyone but Humans involved in this part of the operation or the later rescue. Tuvok concurred—the last thing they wanted to do was provide the scientists with another specimen.

Kim fingered the hypo in his pocket and wondered when Stevek would ever be left alone. All he needed was a moment. He sidled over near Stevek as they transferred him to a gurney. Kim tripped himself over the gurney and fell over Stevek. Unseen, his left hand pressed and discharged the hypo into Stevek's bicep. He then allowed himself to fall onto the floor, and the others pressed onward with their patient, hardly bothering to leave a curse behind them. Kim cheerfully picked himself off the floor and disappeared out the ER entrance.

v v v

Tuvok, Paris, and Kim returned to find a grim pair meeting them at the door. S'Fal was gone. They had left her alone in their room to meditate. T'Hela was in the workroom using the computer while Janeway sat on the floor against the door to their room. Knowing the time of the crucial event had come and passed, they both felt a sense of relief and confidence that S'Fal was no longer a threat.

Suddenly Janeway "knew" that S'Fal was gone. She flung open the door only to be met with a Vulcan nerve pinch. S'Fal had implanted the thought in Janeway through the closed door. It was a little harder to subdue T'Hela, but the result was the same. While the two women had lain unconscious, S'Fal had reformatted their hard drives, and stolen their disks and tricorders. Fortunately, the men had two with them—and all had the precious time data within them. In time, the information could be recovered.

"Well," Paris grimaced, "at least she didn't perform Tal'shaya on you both while she had the chance."

That earned him a glare from Janeway. "Thanks a lot, Tom. I already feel like enough of an idiot."

"Vulcans are generally touch-telepaths." Tuvok reminded her. "You had no reason to think she could affect you through a wall, and S'Fal had not given us enough reason to treat her as a prisoner."

"I don't get it," said Kim. "The important event was today—if she wouldn't or couldn't interfere there, then what's the purpose of all this?"

"As Lieutenant Janeway has pointed out, there is little chance to intervene in that part of the timestream. She may be looking for another way—such as assassinating Parul Singh before he ignites the Eugenics Wars," Tuvok answered.

"You are assuming that she is doing this to return to the original timeline and go home," T'Hela said.

"What other explanation can there be?" Tuvok asked.

"The destruction of the Human race."

"Now come, T'Hela," Tuvok replied, "There is no reason to suspect any such thing. S'Fal is our shipmate."

"To undergo Kolinahr is rare. To leave Gol afterwards is rarer still. That she would then choose to serve on a VSA vessel that she knew would be crewed largely by openly emotional Humans is astonishing, considering that she has never bonded."

"She is an excellent Healer."

"And things began to go wrong on Voyager when she came on board."

"That can hardly be attributed to her."

"It can if she's an informant."

"Are you accusing her of being a Romulan?—that is absurd."

"No, I am accusing her of being a Vulcan: The kind of Vulcan that exiled the Kro'ni'var. The kind who would not allow Humans to reside on Vulcan or allow them to marry within the clans. The kind who resisted a common Starfleet and having Humans aboard VSA vessels. The kind that even when we left were advocating Humans' removal from VSA ships even though it would cripple us. They would love to blame any failures on the presence of Humans. Something is not right with that one. She does not fit."

"T'Hela," Tuvok reproved gently. "None of us aboard VSA ships are typical of Vulcan."

"No, but we tend to be atypical in typical ways. There is none of the ravening curiosity, the seeking out of new life and new civilizations that drives us out among the stars, in S'Fal. I have always sensed something dark there. When she reached for me to render me unconscious, I could sense that dark purpose through the touch."

"Surely there's plenty of inertia in the turnings of history," Paris said. "What could one person really do alone?"

"Plenty," answered Janeway. "Think of all that Stevek has changed by accident. Now think of a determined enemy who has deliberate sabotage in mind and also has a road map of history spread out before her. In the next twenty years Earth will be going through some of the most turbulent and dangerous times in her history. The death throes of Marxist totalitarianism are less than a decade away from beginning, and since the Soviet Empire was armed with nuclear weapons, its dissolution left wonderful opportunities for disaster in its wake. Before twenty years are over—if..." Janeway spit out bitterly, "we are successful—millions will have died in the Eugenics War—S'Fal could seek to make that billions."

"If you are right, it is even worse than that," Tuvok said. "S'Fal is young—amongst us only T'Hela and Kim are younger. Given a Vulcan lifespan, especially that of a Kolinahr initiate and a healer, she could live to strangle the mothers of Kirk and Spock in their cribs. She could be a threat right up to the 23rd Century."

Janeway could not meet Tuvok's eyes. He had tried to warn her that this timeline had its dangers. No. I will not travel that route over—this is still the only road I see with any hope at all at its end. She forced her head up. "Then we all have plenty of work to do."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Tom Paris said sardonically.

Tuvok's head shot up. "Mr. Paris, you will treat Miss Janeway and myself with the respect due our rank. Miss Janeway, even given equal rank, is still your senior. In fact, consider her promoted to Lieutenant Commander"

"Humans aren't promoted above lieutenant."

"They are now. Continue in your insubordinate attitude of late, and you'll see I can give field demotions with the same alacrity as field promotions."

"Does it matter under the circumstances?"

"Yes. It matters—to the very existence of your world and your future. To use a phrase I have heard from you, 'if we do not hang together, we shall surely all hang separately.'"

Paris grinned. "Benjamin Franklin—American Revolutionary War. Believe it or not, I come from a long line of those who served under military discipline. I apologize, sir—you are right—I promise to behave."

Before they left the room, Paris crossed to Janeway's side. "Does this promotion mean I can't call you 'Kate' anymore?"

"You can call me 'm'am.'" Janeway retorted sharply.

Paris groaned. It was going to take plenty to get him out of the doghouse now.

v v v

They constantly monitored what was going on with Stevek. The devices Kim had implanted worked perfectly. Stevek had been moved to a part of the hospital with more security, which alarmed Paris. They had working phasers with them, and Stevek's very presence let the cat out of the bag, but Tuvok still wished to minimize the shock to the culture if possible. Stevek would be moved by air transport to Washington D.C. the day after next, and his condition appeared to be deteriorating. They could wait no longer. This time Tuvok put Janeway in charge of the Humans who'd comprise the rescue team. Paris took a good look at both their set faces and forced down his protests.

Janeway preferred to keep it simple. Her badge identified her as a doctor while Kim and Paris were orderlies. Janeway was grateful they hadn't yet transferred Stevek to a more secure institution. They only had to sneak Stevek out of a hospital, not break him out of a prison—still easier said than done without a transporter. With their forged IDs and card keys they had no trouble gaining access to Stevek's ward.

Janeway noticed the video surveillance booth for the floor. With a nod towards it, Janeway indicated that Kim should take care of the person there as well as those in the nurses' station who'd be monitoring Stevak's life readings. She saw no choice but to use their phasers—there was no other quiet way to render the guard and nurses unconscious. Not for the first time, Janeway wished Humans could use that Vulcan nerve pinch.

Janeway and Paris continued into Stevek's room. Janeway grimaced at the sight of the tubes and contraptions Stevek was hooked up to. Paris moved toward the bed and started removing the tubes and needles. Stevek was unconscious, limp and ghastly pale. Soon after, Kim joined them and they did their best to clothe Stevek and stuff him into a wheelchair before anyone could discover anything amiss.

Paris had prepared the operation well, getting schematics of the hospital and doing a reconnaissance of the out of the way corridors and passages a week before. Before long they were wheeling Stevek out of a side entrance and loading him into their van.

Tuvok and T'Hela met them at the door to the apartment. Tuvok lifted Stevek into his arms and carried him to the bed they had prepared, with T'Hela close behind. Tuvok gently pushed T'Hela aside when she attempted to touch Stevek. Carefully he laid his own fingers along the meld points. After a minute he broke contact and heavily raised his eyes to theirs. "He has been in a healing trance with no one to wake him when it was needed. He has slipped into a coma."

"No...I...will...not...let...him...die." Before anyone could stop her T'Hela placed her fingers on Stevek's meld points.

"My thoughts to your thoughts..."

T'Hela's eyes went blank, her face slack.

Tuvok restrained Janeway. "Do not interfere."

"She will die."

"She may—it was her choice—it is Stevek's only chance. She is calling to his katra and asking him to return with her. They will finish this bonded—or dead. If they live, you must be prepared to slap her to full consciousness—as I will do for Stevek."

All of them drew up chairs to begin the vigil that would decide their friends' fate.

A few hours later both figures stirred. Stevek spoke first. "Help...please...hit me...need focus." Tuvok immediately began backhanding Stevek. Janeway winced at the force of the blows.

Then T'Hela opened her eyes. "Please...Kathryn." Janeway moaned and struck T'Hela sharply. "Harder," T'Hela rasped. Janeway gritted her teeth and hit her again and again until an arm reached up and intercepted her arm with a steel grip. "That, my friend, is quite enough." Janeway felt tears of relief well up, but a curious restraint forced them back. Too long among Vulcans, I guess—such indulgence seems illogical.

Stevek then shocked the room with his next words. "I felt T'Paya die."

Paris moved to Stevek's side. "I know those foul Klingons..."

"It was not the Klingons who killed her—they were Vulcans."

"Are you sure—might they not have been Romulans?" demanded Tuvok.

"Yes, I am sure, for T'Paya was sure. They are hunting any trace of the Kro'ni'var. Tracing the old family lines to sniff us out. I am sorry I did not trust you, Tuvok—I could not trust any Vulcan on the ship except T'Hela—and I did not wish to draw her into it. Lest of all could I trust the Healers to help me with my condition—I knew from T'Paya's dying thoughts that one of them was their informant."

"S'Fal," Tuvok provided grimly. He glanced at T'Hela. "You were right."

"They did not count on the strength of our bond. I thought I was leaping into the Vulcan past—I thought in my fever to strangle those who killed my wife as they lay in their cribs."

"But what about your Pon farr," blurted Paris.

Paris you insufferable ass...all the discretion of...a Human, Janeway thought.

Stevek turned to T'Hela, reaching out and crossing her two upheld middle fingers with his own.

At that, Tuvok quickly and firmly led the Humans out of the room. Janeway saw something flicker for a moment on Tuvok's face. For the first time it fully hit her how much he had given up. If Stevek and T'Hela had died, he would be the only Vulcan left among us. Even if we lost Kim and Paris, I wouldn't lose as much. He is doubly isolated by command and his alien nature. He will never see T'Pel or his children again. He could die in his next Pon farr if he doesn't find a mate. S'Fal certainly won't help. In a way all of us *are* home except for him—even T'Hela—and as long as Stevek has her, this will be home for him too. All Tuvok can do is go out at night and try to pick out a distant star through the city glare. Although Janeway thought that this still didn't seem home to her—but then she had never really felt at home anywhere and wasn't sure if she would recognize the feeling.

v v v

A few days later she assisted Paris as he bobbed the Vulcans' ears. Paris had paramedical training and would have to serve as their physician now. Finally it was real to her that they would never return to Voyager. Afterwards she locked herself in her room and for the first time in years she began to sob. It was a mutilation. The Vulcans looked so different without those ears...diminished. Human. She realized that did not make her happy. Janeway did not after all want to live in a world without Vulcans...without all the beautiful, terrible, and wondrous variety of the universe they had left behind on Voyager.

The first thing she saw the next day was T'Hela standing against a wall, raptly watching Stevek and Tuvok as they sat talking. There were none of the usual human signals of happiness on her face. No smiles—no laughter. Just a serenity and glow that made all that superfluous. When she walked into the room, Tuvok had looked up at her. Their eyes met and Janeway quickly looked away uneasily.

T'Hela welcomed her with a look. "For the first time, Kate—I understand the joy of being Vulcan. It is not Pon farr that is the Vulcan Heart—the Vulcan soul. Not that I am complaining," T'Hela shot her an impish look. "Nor..." and T'Hela's lips twitched upward a little as she traced the new roundness of a bandaged ear with a fingertip "is it anything other than the bond. Anything is worth enduring as long as I have that."

"I am happy for you, T'Hela." Janeway forced down a pang of envy and jealousy.

"Kate...that does not make thee any less precious to me."

Janeway smiled widely enough for them both.

v v v

Late that night Tuvok found her curled up on the couch in the room they used as an office. She was reading a thick sheaf of papers, comfortably clad in her oversized t-shirt and silk robe and curled up on the couch.

She started guiltily and straightened up, lowering her legs to the floor as Tuvok sat down beside her. His knee brushed hers as he sat down and she could hear his sharp intake of breath. She felt her body warming with her awareness of his closeness. She wondered if his still keen hearing could hear the sudden pounding of her heart and her slightly quickened breathing.

"What are you reading, Kathryn?"

"Star Trek: To Boldly Go It's part of a multi-volume history of the Federation. This one is a joint-biography of Kirk and Spock and the history of their times."

"You are reading it to plan for the future?"

"No—truth is I'm reading it more to give me hope there is a future worth planning for. To nourish my soul. Humans need heroes and a vision of a bright future. We need inspiration and a sense of purpose and adventure. One of my favorite quotes from this century is that 'those who fight for the future live in it now.' So—I'm collecting a little down payment," she said a little wistfully, setting her reading aside.

Janeway smiled at how easily he used her name, how naturally he had come to sit by her side. She thought of how much she had misjudged Tuvok when on the ship. I tarred him with the brush of my own bitterness. Vulcans are not the only ones who need to put aside their prejudices. He has been far more flexible than I would have guessed. I don't know anyone else who could have led with more integrity and dignity.

She looked at his face, at those coolly elegant features—except for lips that would mark him as a sensualist if he were human. And human he looked, especially with his dark coloring that would not betray him with a blush. He was stripped of some of his aloofness by the loss of those pointed ears. But not of his dignity—even dressed in a sweater and jeans, Tuvok carried himself as if he were in a dress uniform. Now this is a man, I would have noticed in any setting. If we were in some bar on shoreleave, it would be easy to sit beside him, ask where he came from, put my head close to his.

Janeway smiled. "Don't get me wrong, though—I'm not like Khan's future 23rd Century paramour Lt. Marla McGivers, who complained that her time had 'no heroes—no legends' while sitting beside Kirk and Spock—two of the greatest. I don't need to find my heroes in histories. I'm capable of finding them right here and now." In you.

She laid her right hand on top of his and he turned it over so they touched palm to palm. She almost pulled back at the shock. She was no telepath. But Janeway could feel the longing and yearning come up through her in waves. She looked into Tuvok's dark eyes and saw a calm that so belied what she felt that she didn't know if she was imagining this. Suddenly she knew that she didn't care. Tuvok, after a long reserve, would not take the initiative any further. No further than to let her feel a thread of desire hand to hand.

She moved a finger, a slight twitch, so one finger rested against his finger in the gesture she had seen so many times between Vulcan couples. She felt as if her body would dissolve in the resulting heat. She twined her fingers with his, and then moved closer, cupping his cheek with her other hand. For a moment they just looked at each other and Janeway thought that he could still pull back. They had done nothing irretrievable. Nothing that two friends might not have been to each other. Then she leaned forward and brushed Tuvok's lips with her own. Just a feather touch. She pulled back and looked at him and this time the emotion in his eyes made her withdraw in embarrassment. Surely she could not be what he wanted. That longing could not be for her. She could only be making him feel his loss of T'Pel. She began to get up but Tuvok reached up and grabbed her arm and drew her toward him.

"Kathryn," he said and Janeway felt a thrill go through her with the sound. It was said clearly, possessively, underlying that he knew who she was and that there was no one else between them. This time there was nothing tentative about the kiss. Humans don't hold the patent on kissing. He drew her head to his with a hand and moved it through her hair as he firmly pressed his lips on hers. He traced her lips with his tongue and she shuddered and opened her mouth to him. As his tongue twined with her own, she felt an animal sound rise in the back of her throat that wasn't quite a moan. She couldn't stop herself. She pressed herself against him shamelessly.

Every curve of hers seemed to fit perfectly in a hollow of his. She could feel his taut erection against her groin and it made her feel beautiful. She felt him slide her robe over her shoulders, and she lowered her arms to let it slip to the floor. Emboldened, she reached for the zipper to his jeans and Tuvok gasped as she daringly took him into her hands.

Tuvok pushed away from her and each of them removed their clothes, uncharacteristically throwing them into a heap on the floor. She laid a hand against his shoulder to put some distance between them. She wanted to see him and felt no shame in her own exposure. Just the sight of him made her stop breathing.

His hands moved to touch her eyelids and throat and then drifted downward. She arched back and spread her legs in invitation. She felt one finger just tease brushingly and went rigid with arousal. She suddenly could not stand the separation. She straddled his hips and guided him into her, rocking fiercely as he held her firmly at her waist. She had cried out at the joining of their bodies that seemed to bridge so much more than mere flesh. She swayed as she could feel herself flash between two perspectives, male and female, Human and Vulcan. She could feel the love and longing so long withheld shared between them and felt she'd shatter when she came. She felt every nerve singing as they both began to shudder together and then limply fell back into each other's arms.

"Indeed, Kathryn," Tuvok murmured contentedly, as if there had been no gap in the conversation, but raising her hand to his lips and kissing each finger. "There is much of value to be found right here where we are."

She could still feel a thrum of contentment and a disorienting overlap of perspectives. "Tuvok, are we linked?"

"No, it is merely what a Human might call an 'afterglow.'"

"That's some afterglow—in fact that was some before and during glow!"

"It is pale compared to what bondmates experience."

"Then I'm not sure I could survive what bondmates experience."

Tuvok quirked an eyebrow and the end of his lips quirked upwards when he saw her grin.

"But, I wouldn't want to die without knowing," she said, making her voice casual.

"Is that a proposition, Commander?"

"Only if you say yes."

"Yes," he answered softly.

Janeway felt a quiet joy and finally, a real sense of homecoming.

The End