A/N You don't have to have read Jeri Taylor's 'Pathways' for this to make sense, although it might help (and I recommend it anyway). For those who haven't read it, just know that Nimembeh was Harry's instructor and he always pushed him to be the best.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all belongs to Paramount etc etc

Try not to become a man of success but a man of value.
Albert Einstein

To: Ensign Harry Kim

From: USS Voyager Debriefing Committee

CC: Captain Kathryn Janeway; Lt. Commander Tuvok

Mr. Kim,

Please report for your debriefing at 1100 hours tomorrow morning, to be held in Admiral McFarlene's office. We look forward to seeing you.

Yours,

USS V.D.C

***

The next day, Harry arrived an hour early for his meeting at Starfleet headquarters, with the intention of wandering the grounds like he had those of the Academy before his entry exam all those years ago. The unseasonable warmth that enveloped him only helped to increase his already positive mood. It was just a week since Voyager had burst, unexpected, into the Alpha Quadrant and Starfleet was moving fast; his meeting today was one of the first that they organised in that small amount of time. As a member of the senior staff – and one who wasn't an ex-criminal, an ex-Maquis terrorist or a hologram – his debriefing came in order of priority just behind that of Tuvok. The captain herself was facing an investigation into every major decision she had ever made, and even some that weren't major at the time, with a whole different panel of Starfleet officials. Thankfully, Owen Paris had insisted on being part of that group – if anyone could get the Maquis crew and Tom out of the outrageous custody in which they were currently held, it was him. It was, therefore, a positive Harry Kim who strolled the grounds of Starfleet headquarters. The Maquis were being treated well, all things considered, and everyone believed it was only a matter of time and paperwork before they were released with full pardons.

As Harry wandered, he found himself caught up in the steady stream of people who marched purposefully in and out of the building. It felt good to be lost in a crowd; the last week had been tiring to say the least. He could hardly step out of his parent's front door without being accosted by someone – journalist, neighbour or otherwise. He kept his head down and watched people walk by, grateful for the anonymity of his uniform. He didn't particularly like the new design, with its drab grey instead of the black but he was thankful that he got the chance to wear it all. A few of the busy stream looked curiously at him as though trying to place him but in general, they ignored him. That was until he found himself walking straight into path of Commander William Riker.

"Hey," Riker exclaimed, gently grabbing his arm, "Are you Harry Kim?"

Looking into the cheerful face of Captain Jean-Luc Picard's right hand man, Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, sir."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry. Kathryn's told me so much about you."

"Me, sir?" Harry couldn't help but keep the note of surprise out of his voice. He didn't even know that the captain was friends with Riker. For his part, Riker interpreted the look on his face correctly.

"Bet she didn't tell you we were friends, did she?"

"No, sir."

"I've actually just been to visit her. She's buried under a mound of paperwork. There's someone helping her. I can't remember his name. Vulcan-"

"Lieutenant Tuvok," Harry offered.

"Tuvok, that's the one. Anyway, you should go see her, Harry."

For a minute, the seemingly permanent smile left Riker's face.

"She looks tired. I think she needs a reason to stop for a while. I wish I could have stayed longer."

"I will go, sir. I have my debriefing in a while and then I'll go."

"Good man," Riker reached out and shook Harry's hand, "It's a pleasure to have met you Mr. Kim. I hope to see you again some time. I'm sure you have some great stories."

With that, Riker strode away, his confident pace outdoing even that of Chakotay. For a minute, Harry stood still. Commander William Riker knew his name and even more than that, none of the stories about him had been exaggerated. He oozed the coolness of character that everyone always said he had in abundance. What was more, he had seemed almost as pleased to meet Harry as Harry had been to meet him. Allowing himself a little laugh, Harry continued on his way, fantasizing about the Starfleet legends that had walked the grounds as he did. He was halfway through an imaginary conversation with James T Kirk himself, organizing a game of pool and a pint of real beer, when a man sat on a bench caught his eye. The image of Kirk disappeared as Harry watched the man cautiously. Although he couldn't be sure, he was almost certain that it was Nimembeh, his old instructor, the one who had pushed him to his absolute limit for four years and made him the best of the best. Mixed feelings fought for control in his belly; on one hand, he hero worshipped this man, even after all those years and on the other, he hated the way he had been picked on and singled out for punishment. For a minute, his head told him to walk away but his feet had already made the decision, walking towards the man and trying to match the gait of William Riker.

Nimembeh looked up as Harry approached, his face expressionless. He wondered if he had changed too much for the older man to recognise him. For his own part, Nimembeh was largely the same. Apart from the grey around his temples and the slightly more drawn look of his face, he looked as he did when Harry graduated eight years previously. Before he could say anything, Nimembeh spoke.

"Still an ensign, I see. Seven years out there, Kim, I thought you would have been promoted by now."

Despite the jab, Harry couldn't help but admire the ability of this man to get to the only thing that niggled at him, taunted him.

"Someone has to be the ensign," he shrugged, sitting down next to the older man. As he sat, he noticed the extra pip on his collar.

"Captain Nimembeh?"

"Three years ago. What did you do then, Kim? Why aren't you at least a lieutenant by now?"

"I don't know sir. It never really came up. I didn't do anything to warrant not being promoted but-"

"Evidently you didn't do anything to warrant being promoted either."

Harry felt the ancient but familiar bite of anger that Nimembeh had always stirred up in him. He knew that the man liked to challenge him and would be waiting for an answer. Indeed, when he looked up, the captain was watching him carefully.

"I think that my record would show that I performed well on Voyager. Towards the end I was regularly taking the bridge and I helped design a new astrometrics lab. Promotion isn't everything. I'm proud of my time on the ship, sir."

"But you're still not a lieutenant."

It wasn't a stab this time – Harry could tell from the slight inclination of Nimembeh's voice that he was joking, in his own way. The matter of fact edge had gone to be replaced by something lighter, friendlier. Something he hadn't heard very often during his time as a cadet.

"How did you find Commander Chakotay?"

Remembering that Nimembeh had taught the commander, Harry thought carefully before he answered.

"He's a brilliant leader. I don't think Captain Janeway would have managed half as well without him. I was always happy to answer to him."

"When he joined the Maquis, I felt like it was such a waste, although I can't say I blamed him. I hoped that he might find his way back to Starfleet one day though. And what about Captain Janeway herself?"

"Did you teach her, sir?"

"No. I knew her father."

"None of us ever doubted that she would get us home, sir. Not even on the worst of days."

Nimembeh nodded, a short, sharp movement, "Edward Janeway was driven as well."

He half turned towards Harry, his fingers drumming the same tattoo that always used to infuriate his students so much.

"Why are you here, Mr. Kim?"

"I've got my debriefing today. I'm only the second one of the whole crew to be summoned," he added, unable to keep the note of pride from his voice. Even after all that time in the Delta Quadrant, he still wanted to impress his old instructor.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Kim," Nimembeh warned, detecting the note in his voice, "Half that crew was made up of renegades and terrorists. It's not exactly hard to be the golden boy."

When he was convinced that Harry had been suitably deflated, Nimembeh smiled with a surprising amount of warmth, his teeth still perfectly white.

"It's good to have you back, Harry. I always said Chakotay was a waste but you were the tragedy."

"Sir?"

"I couldn't believe that I'd wasted four good years on you only to have you killed on the first assignment."

Harry laughed, because he was supposed to, but both men knew that he got the real meaning of what Nimembeh was saying. The time caught his eye and he hastily stood, mumbling his apologies and holding out his hand. The older man ignored it and stood with him. He saluted smartly, holding Harry's gaze for a fraction of a second before sitting back down and watching him walk away. Harry, his face glowing with pride, suddenly turned on his heel.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"

"What do you mean, Kim?"

"Shouldn't you be at the Academy?"

The look of indifference was feigned, Harry could tell, and he only half shrugged his shoulders in response.

"Rumour had it a certain ensign from Voyager was going to be here today. When you go to someone's memorial, you have to see them again to convince yourself they're still alive. If you see him, tell him I was waiting for him."

"I will. It was good to see you sir."

"Get going, Kim or you'll be late. Don't make me give you laps again because I'll do it."

"I know. Goodbye sir."

"Goodbye, ensign. If you haven't got rid of that by the next time I see you I swear you'll wish you were back in the Delta Quadrant."

A/N One of Harry's lines about having to be an ensign is taken directly from what Garrett Wang was allegedly told when he asked if Harry would be promoted. I just thought it was kind of cool. Again, I own nothing of that etc etc