Copyright 2001, Susan S. McCrackin  Reprinted with permission of the author.

Claudia Hansen and Dr. Zimmerman were sitting nervously before Judge Marshall. He was watching them both carefully. He had met with each of them privately and was now interviewing them together. He was relieved they had agreed to meet for the decision about Kathryn B’Elanna’s guardianship to be decided in this way. He could not believe it had come to this. From everything he had learned, B’Elanna Torres-Paris was fully prepared to accept parenting responsibility for the child. He knew she must truly be ill to relinquish custody of Kathryn B’Elanna.

He was feeling the burden of his responsibility. His orders called for him to decide in Claudia Hansen’s favor. It would be the reasonable decision. She was the child’s blood relative. Still, it was important he go through the motions of carefully considering Dr. Zimmerman’s counter suit. 

The interview process, however, had proven an interesting experience. Neither one had prior experience with young children, nor was he entirely convinced either person was comfortable in taking on the responsibility of raising a young child. Interestingly enough, Dr. Zimmerman seemed to know more about the child than did Claudia Hansen despite the fact that she had cared for the child for the last few weeks. 

"I understand the child is here today."

Claudia Hansen nodded her head at him, "Yes, she is in the waiting room with Counselors Troi and Hawkins."

He looked at his assistant, "Please ask them to join us."

When they walked in, Counselor Troi was holding Kathryn B’Elanna, whose eyes moved between the three people in the room. He noticed that Kathryn B’Elanna’s eyes settled on her grandfather almost immediately, and that she seemed to relax when he smiled at her. Counselor Hawkins took the chair next to Ms. Hansen, and Counselor Troi took the chair closest to him. He watched the child closely, trying to read her reaction to the people in the room. She seemed subdued for a young child, and this bothered him. 

He studied his notes, more to give himself an opportunity to think than anything else. Finally, he looked up at the people in the room.

"Counselor Hawkins, I understand from your report that you have found both Claudia Hansen and Dr. Zimmerman to be acceptable guardians for the child?"

"Yes, Judge Marshall."

Her response was comforting. He knew she was an excellent counselor, and he valued her opinion. While he also had a high regard for Counselor Troi, he knew she was not totally unbiased in this case. That made her recommendations suspect.

"I would like to visit with Kathryn B’Elanna. Counselor Troi, would you please give me the child?"

Surprised, she stood and handed Kathryn B’Elanna over to the judge, who settled the child on his lap and said to the people in the room, "Would you wait in the other room?" He watched as they stood and walked, single file, out of his chambers. Then, he turned his attention to the child.

"Hello, Kathryn B’Elanna."

She looked up at him, her face screwed up in concentration, "Hi."

He smiled, trying to make her feel at ease, "So, tell me, Kathryn B’Elanna, do you know who Flotter is?" 

"Flotter? Her voice lilted up in surprise.

He was pleased. His own children, as well as his grandchildren had loved Flotter. As a result, he was well aquatinted with the holo-character and had often found it helped him break the ice with young children. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a small, stuffed Flotter and handed it to her. Her eyes widened in delight, and she hugged the toy to her.

"Flotter!"

"Yes," he laughed, "it’s Flotter."

She looked at him, her eyes innocent, "I love Flotter."

"So do I."

She regarded him with surprise, "Aunt Claudia not like Flotter."

"Really?" He did not allow himself to react with anything other than interest to her words.

"No." She shook her head emphatically. 

"What about Dr. Zimmerman?" He saw the confusion in her eyes and quickly added, "your grandfather?"

Her eyes clouded for a moment as she thought about his question. He could tell she was giving it serious consideration. Finally, she looked up at him, "Don’t know."

Interesting, he thought. "So," he shifted her in his lap, "why don’t you and I play a little game." He grinned down at her, "Want to play a game with me, Kathryn B’Elanna?"

She just looked at him. Suddenly, he had the feeling she was two going on fifty. "Tell me, Kathryn B’Elanna, which would you rather eat, peas or ice cream?"

She gave him a serious look, then answered, "Peas."

He looked at her strangely and spoke, more to himself than to her, "You would eat peas and not ice cream?"

She didn’t notice the tone of his voice, "Mama says peas better."

"What?"

She played with Flotter, "Peas make you grow so eat peas."

His eyes narrowed for a second, and he put his hand on the toy, pushing it down, "Kathryn B’Elanna." She looked up at him, giving him her full attention. "Which tastes better? Peas or ice cream?"

Her eyes went bright, "Ice cream."

"So," he smiled, "which would you rather eat?"

She frowned, "Peas?"

"Kathryn B’Elanna, for today, play like we are in Flotter’s Forest and everything is good for us. You can have whatever you want. Now, which could you rather eat, peas or ice cream?"

"Ice cream!" Her response was quick and certain.

He had to laugh. This really was a special child, but now he understood how to communicate with her. "What is your favorite Flotter game?"

"Folla tha leader!"

"Mine, too." He quickly followed with another question, "Are you one or two?"

"Two!" She held up two fingers.

"Do you like Counselor Troi?"

"Yes."

He lifted the Flotter in front of her, "Is Flotter pink or blue?"

"Blue."

He continued asking her questions, trying hard to remember what his own grandchildren had known or liked at her age. He had to make certain she understood his questions, and he wanted to make certain he, himself, was comfortable that she understood her own answers. They played question and answer for about ten minutes. His questions got sillier, and her responses got shriller with laughter. Suddenly, he asked her, "Who would you rather be with, Aunt Claudia or Grandpa?"

She immediately went silent, and her reaction threw him. He tried again, "Who would you rather be with, Aunt Claudia or Grandpa?" He wondered if she knew what he meant.

After a moment, she leaned forward and put her finger to her lip, "Shhhhh."

"What?"

"Shhhhh."

With a hint of a grin, he asked, "Is it a secret, Kathryn B’Elanna?"

She nodded.

He lifted her up to him, "Whisper it in my ear."

She looked at him uncertainly, then leaned forward to whisper her answer softly in his ear, "Gwanpaw."

He stood looking out of the viewing window. From his office, he could actually see Voyager docked. He wondered at the powers that had handed him the responsibility of making this decision. Or, rather, for carrying out the decision.

It really wasn’t his decision to make. But it was his responsibility to make the decision official. Once he made his ruling, the decision would stand.

He thought about the child. There certainly was something very different about her. But then, again, her mother was a Borg and her father a hologram. That made her special and unique. And she really was unique. There was such an innocence and a wisdom about her. She seemed to understand so many things on so many levels. He had thought his own children had been advance for their ages, but none like this child.

He looked down at the orders that had been meticulously prepared with Claudia Hansen’s name prominently displayed as the final legal guardian of Kathryn B’Elanna Hansen. He thought about the tall, blond, attractive woman who had sat in front of him, stiffly talking about caring for the child for the last few weeks. She had not expressed any concern at all about her abilities to care for the child. Then, he thought about Dr. Zimmerman as he talked honestly about his fears that he would not be able to do everything he needed to do to provide a loving home for the child, but expressing his deep desire to do so. One so certain, and one so uncertain.

He thought about the day his wife had told him that she was pregnant with their first child. He had been thrilled. He also remembered that he had been scared and assailed by doubts that he would be a good father. One could never be certain when it came to raising a child. If his children had taught him anything, it was never to be too confident.

It was his responsibility to sign the order giving Claudia Hansen custody of Kathryn B’Elanna. It was his responsibility.

He sighed, thinking about that word again and again. Responsibility. Responsibility. It was also his responsibility to take care of the innocent. He turned to look at the most recent picture of his own grandchildren, wondering about them if their parents were suddenly ripped from their lives. If Kathryn B’Elanna were his own grandchild, which person would he want caring for her?

It was his responsibility. 

Sometimes, being responsible meant you had to be responsible for making your own decision.

Picking up the PADD, he changed the name of the guardian and, without any hesitation, placed his palm on the PADD, authorizing the final, official decision. 

The Doctor was sitting in the chair, looking at them, his face a mask of disbelief. Ketaria had her hand on his arm, trying to comfort him, knowing that there was nothing she could do for him to make any of this easier for him to accept. His eyes moved back and forth between the floor and Kahkar’s eyes as her husband told him everything they knew about Voyager’s return and Seven’s ultimate death. The Doctor listened without speaking, and Ketaria could feel his growing grief.

Once Kahkar finished, the Doctor sat quietly, and they waited for him to speak. After a moment, he stood and walked away from them. They watched as he stood, his head raised slightly. Finally, he turned to them, "My daughter?"

Kahkar and Ketaria exchanged worried glanced, then Kahkar cleared his throat and answered, "She is with Claudia Hansen."

"What!" He exploded.

Kahkar stood, "Doctor, B’Elanna and her child were threatened. She was told to give up Kathryn B’Elanna to Claudia Hansen or To’mas would be killed. We told her to do that, and that we would ensure Kathryn B’Elanna would be cared for. We have done that. And, we are going to get her back."

"To’mas was threatened?"

Kahkar nodded his head at him, "Yes."

The Doctor lifted his head, trying to process everything her had heard. "Dead." He whispered the word, still not believing what he had been told.

Kahkar took a deep breath, "Yes."

He closed his eyes and spoke softly, "This cannot be. I can’t believe this." He looked up, "I can’t accept this. This can’t be true." He looked around the lab, "And you copied my program?"

"Yes, Doctor," Kahkar walked to stand closer to him, "I was afraid you would be in danger when Voyager returned to Earth. The diagnostic tool I developed to examine your program was not really a diagnostic tool. It was actually a device I designed to fully download your program." He raised his hand to rub his forehead, "I realize that was a deceptive act, and I should have told you what I was actually doing, but…." His voice trailed off.

"But, you were not certain."

Kahkar nodded.

"And you did not want to want to do anything to ruin the excitement over Voyager going home."

He nodded again.

The Doctor looked away and spoke, "Forgive me for saying this, Kahkar, but I wish you had. It might mean Seven would still be alive." He looked back at his friend, his face full of grief, "My wife might still be alive."

Before either man could say anything, Ketaria quickly interrupted, "Doctor, we understand, but we did not know, and Kahkar could have been as wrong as he was right. You wanted to get back to Earth. Do you think Kahkar’s suspicions would have stopped you from going home? Can you honestly tell me that?"

The Doctor gave her a long look, then he slowly shook his head, "No, it would not have stopped us. We would have done exactly what…it seems we did." He put his hands to his face, rubbing them over it roughly before looking at his friend, "And if you had not done what you did, I would not be here today. Thank you."

Kahkar just nodded his head. He could not respond to the Doctor, mainly because he felt the guilt of not voicing his concerns. He still wondered if giving voice to his worry would have made the Doctor and Seven delay their return to the Alpha Quadrant. If he had spoken, might Seven still be alive? He knew he would never know the answer to that, and it would haunt him the rest of his life.

His thoughts were interrupted as Ketaria spoke, "Doctor, there is more we need to tell you. Why don’t we go to our living quarters where we can talk more comfortably. B’Elanna and Tom will be arriving soon, and we want to tell you about our plans to rescue Kathryn B’Elanna." As he nodded and turned to leave with them, she added, "Since there are holo-emitters installed throughout the ship, you can move anywhere you want to."

He looked blankly at his left arm, "I forgot about my mobile emitter. Was it really destroyed?"

She nodded, "From what we understand, it was crushed when you were…killed."

He sighed but did not speak. Ketaria took his arm and started him moving toward the door. Then, she reached for her husband’s arm, pulling him with them. There was a lot of healing that both of these men had to do. She was confident that they would find support and comfort in each other.

Seven was staring at her console screen, but she was not seeing anything. She was still struggling for control. How had that voice been in her mind? The voice had come from so deeply in her mind she had not been able to determine how it had been communicating with her. Even as she thought about it, she worked not to give the voice a name. Or a face. 

But it meant there was still hope for help. It told her there was assistance out there, working to protect her family, working to protect Kathryn B’Elanna.

She immediately worked to shut off her mind. She could not afford to think about her child. It made her too vulnerable to him. She allowed the anger she felt at the thought of him flow through her. It was the most powerful tool she had against him. As long as her anger filled her, she did not feel anything. That gave her power over him.

She concentrated on her anger.

Dr. Zimmerman was pacing around the Captain’s temporary quarters. It had become the unofficial meeting place for all of them. From time to time, he would look at the people waiting with him, and he would often catch one of them looking at the PADD on the center of the table. They were waiting on Judge Marshall’s decision.

Chakotay leaned back in his chair and gave Tuvok a thoughtful glance, but did not say anything. They were both anxious for the Captain to return from seeing Tom and B’Elanna. He could tell Tuvok was as ready for things to begin as was he. Regardless of what decision the judge made today, they would move forward with their plans. A favorable ruling would make things easy, but he knew it would not make a difference in the end.

He saw Tuvok’s eyes move toward his family across the room from them. He could tell the Vulcan was concerned for the safety of his family, but T’Pel and their children had been clear that they were committed to this plan as a family. He had come to appreciate the quiet strength they gave simply by being present. Their determination gave him renewed faith in their plan.

He heard the doors open and saw Janeway walk in, the look on her face strange. He immediately stood, looking behind her, hoping to see Tom and B’Elanna follow her in. He did not know if he was surprised or not when he saw she was alone.

"Did you see them?" He asked, even though he knew the answer.

"Yes." She stopped in the center of the room, putting her hands on her hips, struggling to compose her face. Purposely, she looked at Counselor Troi, her eyes telling the counselor to stay quiet. "Tom and B’Elanna are going to with Miral to her home."

"Why?" Chakotay asked abruptly.

She hesitated, "B’Elanna has had some complications from her injuries, and her mother feels it would be for the best if they went back with her so her family can help care for B’Elanna and To’mas."

"Tom hasn’t said anything about her being sick," Chakotay’s voice was surprised.

"Apparently, they haven’t told anyone. Plus," she paused, turning to face him, "they are probably leaving the space station even as we speak."

"What?"

"I just did catch them. Another few minutes, and they would have been gone."

Now, Chakotay was angry, "And when did they plan on telling us?"

"B’Elanna said she was planning on sending a message."

"First Kathryn B’Elanna and now this. What has gotten into her? And Tom?"

She raised her hand slowly to her mouth, giving herself time before she responded and allowing her emotions to come through in her voice, "B’Elanna…explained everything to me. I agree with her decision to leave."

"Captain?"

She answered, her voice shaky, "It was a good decision, Chakotay. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss it right now." She turned her attention to Dr. Zimmerman, "How did your meeting with Judge Marshall go?"

Dr. Zimmerman shrugged his shoulders, "I don’t know what to think. We are waiting to hear from….."

He was cut off by the sound from the PADD, indicating that a message was being received. Everyone in the room froze, their eyes turning to look at the now blinking object in the middle of the table. Dr. Zimmerman briefly closed his eyes and lifted his chin, the moved quickly to pick up the PADD and activate it.

He read the message silently, his face not moving as he did so. Finally, he looked up at Captain Janeway, his face breaking into a smile, "I’ve been given custody."

Claudia Hansen picked up the PADD and read it. She looked up at Counselor Hawkins, "Judge Marshall has given custody of the child to Dr. Zimmerman. I will go pack her things."

She walked out of the room and began to put the child’s things in the small bag. She realized she felt a huge sense of relief at the decision. It had not taken her long to realize she did not want to be responsible for raising it.

That is how she had come to think of the child. It. She could not consider it a human being. The mother had been Borg and the father had been a hologram. Neither had been human. She had started seeing the mother in the face, complete with the implants. She had not been able to get that image out of her mind. 

Stopping for a moment, she lifted her chin and thought about her niece. It was a shame she had died, but she knew she was not sorry. It was better for her to die than to live as something less than human.

Picking up the bag, she carried it out and handed it over to Counselor Hawkins, "I am certain you will want to deliver the child to Dr. Zimmerman immediately."

Counselor Hawkins quickly picked up Kathryn B’Elanna and took the bag from Ms. Hansen, "Of course." She had to fight to keep the surprise and disgust from her voice. She was relieved the judge had decided the way he had. The feelings she had gotten from Claudia Hansen had grown colder as the afternoon had gone on. The woman had quit trying to hide her dislike of the child from her. 

The counselor looked at the child in her arms and saw the look of awareness in her eyes. Kathryn B’Elanna knew how her aunt felt about her. It was with a great sense of relief that she carried her out of her aunt’s quarters to her grandfather.

Once the door closed behind them, Claudia Hansen’s eyes wandered around the room, falling on the small blue Flotter the child had brought back from her meeting with the judge. She leaned down and picked it up, squeezing it tightly. Then, she walked to the recycler and tossed the toy in.

"No!" The glass went flying across the room. Then, he picked up another one and threw it. He turned and slammed his hand against the wall of his quarters. No. The judge was not supposed to give the child to Dr. Zimmerman. The judge was supposed to award custody to Claudia Hansen. What was happening? His plan was so perfect. How could it be going wrong? First, the Doctor had been killed. Then Seven of Nine had been lost to him. How could he have lost the child? This was unacceptable.

He started pacing around the room. Calm down. He had to calm down. She wasn’t lost to him yet. She was still on the space station. He could still get her.

And he had to get to her if he was going to get Seven of Nine back. Seven of Nine was still alive. He knew she was. He had not been able to get into her mind, but he knew she was alive. The Federation ships had brought back debris, and there had been cybernetic remnants recovered. But those had been the cybernetic remnants planted on the ship. They were her old implants. They were supposed to be found, but after the ship had exploded when it was supposed to explode. He still did not know what had happened or, more importantly, who had gotten to her first, but he knew she was still alive. She had not died on that ship.

He had to come up with a plan. It would be harder to get to her now that Dr. Zimmerman had custody of the child, but it would not be impossible. He sat in the chair and forced himself to concentrate. There had to be a way to get to her. If he didn’t get the child, he would never have Seven of Nine. 

He had to get the child.

Neelix sat at the small table, away from the bar, nervously nursing his drink. He had been waiting on the man to show up for over an hour. It took everything he had not to look in the direction of Harry and Supala, who were sitting at the end of the bar, positioned so they could keep an eye on him. He sat with his back to the bar, looking out at the door. He could almost describe everyone who had come or gone in the last hour. Lifting his glass to his lips one more time, he allowed his eyes to wander around the room to see if there was someone who had somehow managed to slip in past him. Swallowing and twitching his mouth from side to side, he looked back up at the door and almost choked when he saw the man walk in. Working hard to recover his composure, he lifted his drink to take another sip, trying to act as if he had not noticed the man enter.

The man meandered around the room, gradually making his way to Neelix’s table, casually sitting down and waving an attendant over, ordering a drink. He glanced down at Neelix’s almost empty glass, "Another one?"

"No, thanks. I’m fine."

The guy grinned up at the attendant who left to get his drink. He leaned over the table and crossed his arms in front of him on the table, "How was your day?"

"Fine. And yours?"

"Great, as always." He leaned back to allow the attendant to put the drink down on the table in front of him, "Today was another wonderful day." He looked up at the attendant, "Thanks, buddy." His eyes stayed on the young man, making certain he left and did not linger. Then, he picked up his drink and took a deep drink, "Have anything planned for later?"

"Me?" Neelix grinned and tried to act natural, "No, nothing really. It should be just another boring night."

"Some friends and I are getting together for a card game a little later. Would you like to join us?"

"Sure. Sounds like fun."

He nodded and concentrated on his drink, finishing it in another three swallows. Then, he pulled some credits out of his pocket and threw them on the table, "So my friend, are you ready to lose your credits tonight?"

Neelix smiled up at him, "Or maybe win some of yours?"

The man laughed, "Then, let’s go see which it is." He slapped Neelix on the back and led him out of the bar, continuing the banter as they went. 

Harry quickly pulled some credits out of his own pocket, leaving them on the bar as he slid off the stool. Supala jumped off of hers and together, they left the bar.

As soon as they walked out of the door, they saw Neelix and his companion sauntering down the space station corridor, obviously talking, with the man frequently laughing. They held back, trying not to follow too closely, but also trying to stay close enough not to lose sight of them. Suddenly, they disappeared from view, and Harry moved forward as quickly as he dared without calling attention to himself. Supala had to scurry to catch up to him. They reached a cross-corridor, and Harry was looking frantically around trying to catch sight of Neelix. He frowned as he strained to see him, a worried look coming over his face.

"I’m afraid we might have lost him."

Supala looked down the dark corridor to their left, "No, they’ve gone that way." She pointed down the corridor and started moving.

"Supala!" Harry tried a whispering yell after her, not able to stop her. Reluctantly, he hurried after her. Catching up with her, he whispered, "How can you be sure they went this way?"

"I can see them."

"See them?" Harry strained to look forward, "How can you see them? I can’t see five feet in front of me."

"Well, I can see them just ahead. Hush or they will hear you."

Reluctantly, he followed her, stopping only when she put her hand out and jerked him low. "Shhh." 

He strained and could hear them talking. It was Neelix. He could make out his voice and was relieved to hear that he was still carrying on a jovial conversation with the man he had left the bar with. He caught their shadows for a moment, then watched in dismay as they disappeared again.

"Where did they go?"

Supala pointed toward a dark spot, "They went there."

"Where?"

"There."

"Where’s there?"

She tossed him a frustrated look, "Come on."

They crept forward, and Harry saw thin lines of light slipping out around cracks in the wall. Harry reached out and gingerly touched around the cracks, finally finding what he thought to be hinges.

"I think it might be a door."

"Really." Her voice held a hint of sarcasm.

He gave her a cutting look, then turned back to the door. Before he could say anything, he felt something cold on the back of his neck.

"I’d suggest you not move, pretty boy. That is, if you want to see anything past the next couple of minutes."

They froze, and Harry waited.

"Now, slowly put your hands up in the air and turn around."

They did as they were told. As soon as Harry turned to face the man behind him, he saw a big grin appear on the man’s face, "Well, well. Aren’t you a member of the Voyager crew?"

He grimaced, but nodded his head.

"Weren’t you one of the Borg’s friends?"

He nodded.

"Well," the man relaxed his grip on his phaser, "I’m sorry for your loss." 

Harry could tell the man was watching his face carefully, "Thank you. Seven was a very close friend. I miss her a lot."

He could see the man thinking carefully about his words, fingering the phaser. Slowly, he lowered the weapon. "Why don’t you two come on in. I think you might find some friends inside."

He pushed past and opened the door, holding it for Harry and Supala to enter. They stood, allowing their eyes to adjust to the light. As soon as he could see, he had to fight to keep his mouth from dropping open in surprise. The room was full of people, but some of them looked as if they were supporting Borg implants. Looking closer, he saw the implants weren’t really Borg. The implants were not nearly as complex and intricate as Borg technology, but they were definitely modeled after Borg implants. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Neelix hurrying up to them.

"Harry, Supala," he turned to the man he had behind him, "this is Volik. Volik, this is Ensign Harry Kim and Supala. We are all friends of Seven." His eyes were gleaming and he reached to grab Harry’s shoulder, "From what he’s told me, you might be right, Harry." He grinned at the two of them, "Seven is probably alive."