Author's Note:
I want to thank those who read, Alerted, Fav'd and/or Reviewed this tale! Your interest in this story and the feedback you provide are very much appreciated. Thank you!

And, as always, a big round of applause goes out to Lyaksandra, my beta-reader. Your input and sage advice are – and always have been – invaluable.

I am traveling next week, so the next update to the story will be posted after my return.

Chapter Six

Delta Quadrant 1745
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship
[VIP Quarters]

Liara entered the room that she shared with Shepard and just as she crossed the threshold, like every time before, she gave thanks to the Goddess that they had not been thrown into the Brig. Instead they had been issued VIP quarters, and even though some of the amenities, such as the replicator, were offline for security reasons, the furnishings were quite comfortable. Not as nice as the Normandy, but that was due mostly to familiarity rather than design.

One of the perks lauded by the VIP quarters was the observation window that looked out into the vast expanse of space. Voyager was currently in a standstill above the Tarian planet, so the stars were as stationary as her lover, who stood in front of the window, her attention drawn to something beyond the celestial objects of another universe's star system. The Spectre's focus was so absolute that she did not acknowledge Liara's entrance, and since her presence had gone unnoticed, the Asari took the opportunity to silently contemplate the woman as she walked across the room.

The human wore a comfortable pair of grey cotton sweatpants and a short-sleeved, white cotton t-shirt. She wasn't wearing shoes, but her feet were adorned with white crew-cut socks. Apparently, Liara thought, she had taken Captain Janeway's offer seriously and had some spare clothing replicated.

"You're brooding," Liara said, her voice breaking the silence.

The Spectre glanced over her shoulder, an expression of mild surprise on her face as she greeted the new arrival. "You think you know me so well."

"Because I do." Liara came to a halt next to her lover whose gaze had returned to the fathomless unknown, and noting the redhead's introspective mood, was careful not to encroach on her personal space.

"That is true." A soft smile formed at the corner of Shepard's lips, yet her eyes still held a far-off look, seemingly hypnotized by the vastness beyond the window.

Raising an eyebrow, Liara questioned, "Are you going to tell me what is on your mind or would you prefer not to talk about it?"

"I thought it would be obvious. Discovering there are multiple universes. Being stuck in one of those different universes… with a colony of Batarians. Wondering how we're going to get home." Shepard regarded the Asari out of the periphery of her eye, quirking her lips in half-hearted smile. "And on a lighter note, the dynamic between Seven and Captain Janeway."

"I understand why most of that would be weighing on your mind, but I must admit that the last one surprises me. Why are you so interested in their relationship?"

"I'm not, but have you seen the way Seven looks at Janeway?"

"Actually, I was more interested in the way the ship's captain looks at her Astrometrics officer when she thinks no one is watching."

With her gaze still focused on some fixed point in space, Shepard leaned towards the Asari, playfully bumping their shoulders together. "It reminds me of you when you first joined the Normandy. All that time you spent researching me."

"May I remind you that you were the one who kept seeking me out to talk?"

"You were the first one who admitted attraction."

"Oh?" Liara said as her eyebrow rose accusingly. "When was that? Before or after you kissed me?"

Shepard grinned. "Oh yeah… I did surprise you with that."

"Only momentarily."

"True. Then you surprised me." Shepard's right hand rubbed the back of her head. "I still have the bump where my head hit the bulkhead."

"You didn't complain."

"How could I? My lips were otherwise engaged."

Liara shook her head, chuckling softly at the fond memory. Innocence such as that seemed like a lifetime ago, but it still held sway within her heart.

"Are you trying to interfere with their relationship?" she asked, returning to the previous subject of Seven and Janeway.

"What? No, of course not." Shepard stepped in front of the Asari, tenderly caressing the blue hued cheek with the pad of her thumb. Even after ten years she was still completely mesmerized by the adorable freckles haphazardly patterned across her lover's face. "But it's so much fun to tease them. Neither one knows what to do with it. Janeway got so red in the face in sickbay, I thought she was going to blow me out an airlock."

"That is not the best way to stay in the Captain's good graces. We still need their help to get home."

"True." The redhead shrugged her shoulders. "But I've never been very diplomatic."

"Tell me about it," Liara deadpanned.

Shepard flashed a look of mock disdain, then captured the Asari's waist in both hands, pulling their bodies together. "I do find their attraction to each other interesting in one way though."

"Oh?" Liara said, resting her hands on her lover's shoulders. "And in what way would that be, Spectre?"

Smiling, Shepard replied, "It seems that in any universe, ship captains and scientific minds go well together."

Returning the smile, Liara closed the distance between them even further by letting her hands slip down and wrapping her arms around the redhead's torso. "Yes, they do," she murmured. Then, she placed a soft lingering kiss on her lover's lips.

When the kiss ended, Liara rested her head on the Spectre's shoulder and released a whispered sigh. As the human's arms tightened their firm, but gentle embrace, she closed her eyes, breathing in the peaceful moment. "If I had to be stranded in another universe, I am glad it was with you."

Shepard placed a tender kiss on Liara's crests. "As am I, love."

Liara remained silent, enjoying the soothing and familiar comfort of her lover's body and the security those sensations generated. At least until her curiosity prompted a question. "Did you get into any trouble this afternoon?"

"Not in the way you're thinking," Shepard replied, chuckling. "After getting our stuff and the data from the shuttle, Seven gave me a tour of the ship. It's really quite impressive, especially their holo technology which is decades beyond anything we have."

Sensing there was more to the story, Liara prodded, "And…"

"And… it turns out a sonic shower will not clean monster goo from hair." Shepard, who had wanted to see if this universe had an equivalent to a thresher maw- an enormous, worm-like, subterranean carnivore- asked Seven to show her some of the more impressive beasts in their holodeck database. "Even holo monster goo. Old school cleaning methods were required."

"Old school?"

"Soap and water."

"Even in another universe you manage to do the impossible," Liara teased.

Shepard smiled, contented amusement glimmering in her eyes. She was amazed at the calming influence Liara's presence had upon her, as though all of her troubles and fears dissolved in the light her lover's affection. The unease tied to being stranded in another universe no longer felt overwhelming. "How was your time with the Captain?"

"Interesting," Liara said, nuzzling into the crook of the redhead's neck, noting the clean, fresh fragrance of soap and a light floral shampoo. "She has questions for you."

Shepard snorted softly, her hand playfully patting the Asari's rear. "I'm sure she does."

"You should talk to her," Liara suggested as her lips slowly began to wander, leaving a trail of soft lingering kisses along her lover's neck.

Closing her eyes, Shepard breathed in deeply, soaking in the Asari's seductive aura. "You think?"

"Yes," Liara whispered, drinking in the warmth radiating from her lover's supple skin, savoring the salty-sweet taste of each tender caress as her lips continued their sensuous journey. Then, when she felt the rhythmic drumbeat of a pulse, she stopped and a mischievous smile spread across her lips. She knew this was a sensitive spot, a favored spot and when she gently bit down, letting her teeth sink into the delicate skin of her lover's neck, she was rewarded with the sound of a pleasurable moan.

From the warmth of Liara's breath and the delightfully carnal sensations she incited along her neck, the Spectre felt the hot spike of arousal ignite within her abdomen and blaze through her body from head to toe, like a wildfire heating every nerve along its path. Her fingertips dug into the Asari's hips, pressing their pelvises together, rocking slowly, as each movement, subtle or rough, spiked the lustful turmoil burning between them.

Liara's right hand reached towards her lover's face, fingertips tracing a path along her cheek then snaking to the back of her head, firmly grasping the short, red locks still damp from an earlier shower. Suddenly, she was all too aware of her lover's proximity. The feel of strong hands nestled on her hips, of toned thighs discreetly applying intoxicating pressure to sensitive areas, and of pliant flesh pressed against her own, all of which threatened to drown her in sultry eroticism.

The three weeks spent apart had only heightened their smoldering desire, like embers of an everlasting inferno waiting for a gust of air to bring them back to life.

With each passing second their breathing became heavier, more ragged, as though all of the oxygen in the room had suddenly disappeared, and when fiery green eyes met blue, time itself seemed to stop. While the world around them unraveled, they held fast, rooted to each other through a quiet intensity born of mutual longing and untold need.

As their bodies moved in a slow, lust driven rhythm, erotic and primal, Shepard felt her lover's fingers digging into her scalp, possessively pulling their foreheads together. Awash in arousal, barely able to breathe, she let out another low throaty moan. Then, in an almost desperate move, her mouth descended, placing a fierce, uncompromising kiss upon the Asari's lips.

The gust of air had been felt, the inferno ignited.

Clothing fell indiscriminately to the floor as they maneuvered their way across the room, stumbling into the occasional piece of furniture, until they fell, naked and entangled, onto the bed.

"I think," Shepard whispered mid-kiss, her lips brushing upon Liara's in a feather-like caress, "I'll talk to the Captain later."

Liara's fingers greedily tightened their grip in the Spectre's hair, and before bringing their lips back together, she murmured, "Good plan."

...(/\)...

Delta Quadrant 2130
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship
[Captain's Quarters]

Kathryn Janeway stood in her quarters, holding onto a short glass of amber liquid and looking through the observation window, watching the stars flicker amid the black canvass of space. She sighed audibly as her mind drifted over the events of the last two days, and how quickly a simple act of charity dissolved into utter chaos. The only certainty that currently existed was that neither she nor her Senior Staff knew how to get their guests home. Even though the brightest minds on her ship were working on the issue, for the moment, a solution seemed beyond them.

Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a sip and noted how the contents burned a path down her throat to land hotly in her stomach. The familiar sensation wasn't at all unpleasant. In fact, it was comforting. She could always count on it. In contrast, with everything she and her crew had been through over the last seven years, she found herself wondering what surprise the universe had in store for them next.

Then, as if on cue, the door chime sounded out, shattering her contemplative mood.

Without turning around she said, "Enter."

The door swooshed open and Admiral Shepard stepped into the room. Janeway caught sight of her image in the window's reflection and turned to face her. "Shepard."

Noticing the drink in the other woman's hand, Shepard said, "Captain, I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Please, in this room, call me Kathryn." Before the Spectre could respond, Janeway raised her free hand, palm out, halting any pithy banter. "And before you ask, no, I am not flirting with you." Liara had given her fair warning about the Admiral's inclination to playfully provoke, both innocently and intentionally.

Shepard grinned at the captain's forthrightness. "Kathryn it is then."

Janeway raised her glass of amber liquid. "May I offer you a drink?"

"You sure you're not flirting with me?" the Spectre teased.

"If I was, you wouldn't have to ask the question," Janeway parried, an impish twinkle in her eyes. "Besides, from what I've seen, Dr. T'Soni corners the market on your interest."

Shepard tipped her head in acknowledgement of the statement. "A drink sounds lovely. If you're indulging in a single malt whiskey, I'll join you." With a wolfish grin curling on her lips, she added, "If you're not, I'll have one anyway."

Janeway flashed her own playful smirk, then made her way toward the replicator. "Please, have a seat."

The Spectre walked over to the couch which lined the outer wall and sat down. Quietly, she took in the Captain's quarters. Other than few knickknacks openly displayed in shelves on the interior wall or on the coffee table in front of her, the room was clear of any clutter. It was clean, organized with just a touch of familiar comforts. A thick, colorful throw blanket folded across the back of the couch, a coffee mug on the kitchen table and a datapad, or 'holo-novel', she corrected, lying on the chair adjacent to the couch.

Shepard always thought that a person's living space was a direct reflection of their personality and felt Janeway's quarters added credence to her theory. Even having only met few days prior, she knew the woman was warm and social, highly intelligent, an innovative problem-solver but with the capacity to be impulsive and unpredictable. The petite woman was a force to be reckoned with and whether an adversary or ally, she was worthy of respect.

Janeway handed the Spectre her drink before sitting at the opposite end of the couch. "What can I do for you?"

"Liara suggested it might be beneficial for us to talk. In private. She may also have mentioned that you had a particular interest in my given name." The Spectre relaxed into the teal blue furniture, stretching her left arm along its back. "I appreciate that you didn't comb through our database to find it."

"Privacy is a luxury I both covet and value."

"I can appreciate that, as well."

Shepard's eyes landed on an ancient nautical compass displayed at the center of the coffee table, the brass, gimbaled compass was set in a high polish, brass-inlaid solid mahogany box. "This is beautiful," she said, leaning forward to get a closer look. "How old is it?"

"About six hundred years. My grandfather gave it to me when I was a child."

Looking impressed, Shepard said, "It seems you have a long-standing history with exploration, Captain."

"If only it could have pointed me in the right direction seven years ago."

"A good friend once told me that to be a true explorer is to carry on your exploration even if it takes you to a place you hadn't particularly planned to go."

"My grandfather would have agreed." Janeway flashed a rueful smile. "But I don't think he had the Delta Quadrant in mind."

The Spectre took a long drink from her glass, the slight burning sensation of the liquid as it traveled down her throat helped bring her thoughts to focus. She had never been good at small-talk, and since she was only going to have this conversation once, she decided to get on with it. "My first name is Jane, but as you have already figured out, nobody uses it."

Now that the topic was on the table, Janeway's curiosity was sparked. "Not even Liara?" she asked.

"Every now and again." A soft smile formed at the corner of Shepard's mouth, but her turbulent green eyes held a far-off look. "Usually when she's decidedly upset with me."

"You don't like it?"

"On the contrary," the Spectre said, "I revere it. I was named after my mother." Her voice was faint, like an afterthought, as though her mind was somewhere other than on the conversation. "Jane was her middle name."

Janeway recalled the conversation with Liara earlier in the day, but wanted to hear what the Spectre had to say regarding her background. "Something happened to her?"

Silently, Shepard nodded then looked up, her intense gaze meeting Janeway's. "I was a colony kid, born into a farming family on a planet called Mindoir. I hated farming. Hated the idea of being stuck on the colony for my whole life, so every chance I got I snuck off into fields to dream of the day I'd be able to leave."

Sensing the Spectre had a story to tell, the older woman said nothing. Instead, she settled back into the cushion and listened.

"One day," Shepard began, her voice raw and strangely distant, "I was out in the fields doing god knows what and I saw odd looking ships streak across the sky. There were no warning sirens, but I knew something was wrong. That something bad was about to happen. By the time I returned to the colony, it was already too late. Batarian slavers had arrived making demands and the colonists retaliated. They didn't stand a chance. The Batarians slaughtered everyone in sight. Within minutes my home was in ruins. My family murdered."

Janeway remained silent, unsure of what to say and hesitant to interrupt the Spectre who was recounting an awful event from her past.

Noticing the older woman's pained expression, Shepard clenched her teeth and the muscles along her jaw flexed visibly. "A passing Alliance patrol noticed the Batarian ships circling the planet and investigated. They were able to save the remaining colonists in the outlying settlements."

When it involved her personal history, she was uncomfortable with other's compassion which, more often than not, took the form of pity. It made her feel weak.

"What happened to you?" Janeway asked.

"I went to live with my Aunt Hannah, my father's sister. She was an officer in the Alliance, so I spent a lot of time on space stations and ships as she transferred from one posting to another. She was tough, but kind… and a little too optimistic when it came to me."

"In what way?"

"The day of my eighteenth birthday, with her blessing, I enlisted with the Alliance navy. I think she hoped military life would give me purpose. Teach me discipline. Help me put the past to rest."

"And did it?"

"It did," Shepard said, sighing softly, "or so I thought. Some things never rest though."

Instead of continuing immediately, the Spectre took a stiff drink from her glass, her throat moving as she swallowed. Finally, when she spoke, her voice was low and raspy. "I had just finished my first four-year tour and was enjoying shore leave on a planet called Elysium when Batarian pirates launched a surprise attack on the colony. Some other Alliance soldiers and I rallied a resistance and managed to fight off the Batarian's ground force long enough for reinforcements to arrive."

"That was the Skyllian Blitz, right? I read that it was you who single-handedly rallied the resistance."

"So you did read up on me."

"No more than you," Janeway countered, a faint smile playing across her lips. "I'm notified when you access my ship's files."

She knew the woman sitting across from her would have suspected such a security protocol and undoubtedly viewed researching her history as a challenge.

"Touché, Captain."

"If it makes any difference, in lieu of the luxury of personal privacy, I only looked up your military service file."

As though acknowledging the comment, Shepard nodded her head slightly. "But what those files don't tell you is the fact that it was during the Blitz that I realized I'd only been fooling myself. That nothing had been put to rest. I still hated Batarians for what they had done. For murdering my family. For destroying my life. So when they invaded Elysium, I swore they wouldn't have the opportunity to repeat the events on Mindor. I gathered every able bodied man and woman, willing or unwilling, and forced them to fight back."

"You saved many lives."

"Perhaps. But two years later, in retaliation for Elysium, the Alliance launched a major offensive against the moon of Torfan. The objective was to destroy the criminal bases located there, most of which were populated by Batarians. I was part of that operation and led my own unit. We pursued Batarians to every corner of that moon and wiped them out. Without pity. Without remorse. Just as they had done to so many colonies before."

Shepard turned her gaze back toward the Starfleet captain. "I was fifteen when I saw my mother, an unarmed civilian, someone who posed no possible threat, gunned down by a Batarian for no other reason than his amusement." Her voice thick with emotion, she confessed, "More than twenty years have passed and I still wake up begging for her to run."

Unsure of what to say and knowing that any consoling words or platitudes would seem hollow, Janeway offered the only sympathy at her disposal. She held the other woman's gaze, unflinching and without judgment. A thick, weighty silence filled the room, but instead of trying to press the conversation, she took a small sip from her glass.

Eventually, green eyes, brewing in turmoil, fell heavily to the floor. Then, with a fortitude cultivated over the years, Shepard forced her inconsolable thoughts to the wayside, methodically breathing through the bitterness. When her gaze finally shifted back to Janeway's, it was dark as the furthest reaches of space, and just as cold.

"So you see, Kathryn," she said, smiling without humor, "when it comes to Batarians, I am not, nor will I ever be, the forgiving type."

The Spectre looked at the amber liquid in her hand for a moment, then brought the glass to her lips, draining it in one swallow.

Janeway tilted her head in acknowledgement. She had no illusions that any words of sympathy she might offer would be of much consolation, but she appreciated the woman's personal disclosure and the insight it afforded. "Is that why you came here, so I might be more understanding of your actions in Cargo Bay One?"

"That's why Liara suggested I come here," Shepard said, her expression hard and unreadable. "I just came for the drink."

Janeway took another sip of the strong whiskey and waited for its warmth to spread through her stomach. She may not agree with or condone Shepard's choices, but she knew she couldn't stand in judgment of her. In fact, despite their differing values, she had come to respect the younger woman enough to offer up a bit of her own personal history. "I grew up in a farming community in Indiana. My father was a Starfleet Officer, but my mother was a devout traditionalist. No replicators. No transporters. Every meal was home cooked."

Appreciating the shift in topic, Shepard smiled and placed her empty glass on the coffee table. "So you cook?" she asked.

Janeway chuckled softly. "I didn't say that."

"But you have replicators."

"Which are surprisingly complicated pieces of technology."

"They don't seem that complicated."

"Well, as I said, you'd be surprised," Janeway said as she rose from the couch, grabbing the empty glass from the coffee table and walking to the kitchen suite. "Once, a long time ago, I called this replicator a glorified toaster." She motioned with her hand pointing to the device that had just materialized another glass of whiskey. "It never forgave me."

"If I hadn't had access to field rations and a mess hall, I wouldn't have survived this long," Shepard said. "I think I could burn water."

Janeway made her way back to the couch, handing the Spectre the full glass of amber liquid before sitting back down on the couch. "I think I have," she mused.

"It's strange to think that a few days ago, Liara and I were in our own pocket of the universe going about our day… then a…" Shepard frowned. "How did you call it? ... A transporter accident? ... brought us here."

A barely perceptible smile tugged at Janeway's lips as she took a sip from her glass. "Well, at least you didn't swap bodies."

"Huh?" Shepard grunted.

"You'd be surprised how often that has happened."

Shepard looked at Janeway, an expression of disbelief and confusion on her face. "Seriously?"

"Almost as often as temporal disturbances."

"Temporal disturbances? Like time travel?" Shepard hoped she'd managed to contain some of her surprise.

"You sound surprised..."

Evidently she hadn't.

"You mentioned it in sickbay, but I thought you were joking."

"I wish. Starfleet has a branch devoted to it," Janeway said coolly. "I hate temporal mechanics. The past is the future, the future is the past… It gives me a headache."

"Next you'll be telling me your holodecks aren't safe."

"As long as the safety protocols are online, you shouldn't have a problem."

Shepard cleared her throat, thinking back to her holodeck time with Seven. "Do they go offline a lot?"

"Over the years? More than I'd like to admit."

"If I receive another holodeck invite, I may have to decline."

The older woman fixed the Spectre with an inquisitive stare. "You can't tell me that in your universe you've never encountered a technological hiccup."

"Hiccup?" Shepard said, incredulously. "You call getting transported to a different universe a hiccup?"

Janeway answered the question with a sly grin. "So you have no stories of technology going horribly wrong?"

"Well," Shepard said, running her fingers through her short cropped hair, "Reapers aside, there was this one time when my ship was hijacked by my clone."

Janeway blinked. "That sounds like a story."

"The best part is… a tooth brush saved the day…"

…(/\)…

Delta Quadrant 2245
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship
[VIP Quarters]

After washing up, Shepard entered the dark bedroom, shed her comfy clothes and crawled under the covers of the large bed. It didn't take long for her to navigate across the silken sheets and find a comfortable position nestled up against Liara, who was lying on her right side.

"I'm awake," the sleepy Asari murmured, as she slid backward, welcoming the warmth that radiated from her lover's body.

Shepard snuggled in as close as possible, draping her left arm around Liara's waist, then placed a tender kiss on her blue hued shoulder. "Sorry, love."

Capturing the arm wrapped around her, Liara pulled it up to her chest, effectively tightening the comforting embrace. "S'okay," she sighed drowsily. "How did it go with the Captain?"

"We laughed, we drank, we cried…"

Liara snorted softly.

"You don't believe me," the Spectre said, her tone playfully indignant.

"You? Socialize?"

"We're in an alternate universe, it could have happened."

"It is far more plausible that you learned to sing and dance," Liara teased as she twisted in her lover's embrace, shifting both of them so she was lying fully astride Shepard, effectively pinning the human on her back. Then, with an impish smile on her lips, and before any playful retaliation could take place, Liara shifted her position so her chin rested atop the redhead's chest. "Perhaps, Spectre, you should try again."

"Would you believe we bonded over our mutual inability to cook?"

Although the darkness of the room kept most facial expressions hidden, Liara could tell the Spectre was smirking. "That sounds more likely, but it still doesn't answer my question."

"You are tenacious."

"A quality you appreciated mere hours ago."

Chuckling softly, Shepard wrapped her arms around the Asari and gave an affectionate squeeze. "The Captain and I had a good talk. And I think we came to a mutual understanding, or at least a better understanding, of each other."

Liara heard a reticence in her lover's voice. "What did you learn?"

"In terms of the Captain, I believe bringing us here was an accident and I believe her offer to get us back home is sincere."

"But…"

"But I also believe that she is loyal to her crew, that she is dedicated to getting them home and that the Batarians have exactly what she needs to keep them on their journey."

"So you don't trust her…"

Shepard sighed heavily. "With what's at stake, I can't afford to."