NOW VOYAGER
The Official Newsletter of the Kate Mulgrew Appreciation Society
*            Volume II Number 2


*THE BUZZ*

I'm turning over this column to Kate's stand-in, Sue Henley, who wanted to
wish Kate an early happy birthday since the show will be on hiatus on April
29. The first time I talked to Sue, I was jealous that she had a friend
like Kate. Now I'm jealous Kate has a friend like Sue...  --Michelle

IN APPRECIATION

	I do not know much about her, nor she about me. We talk, on occasion, when
we are passing each other on the way to our respective jobs. Yet this woman
calls me friend, as I do her. She has given her support to me in so many
ways:
	She went out of her way to help me get my job. When I was unsure, she
found a way to help me keep the job. She allows me to cry on her shoulder
(literally) when the job takes its toll. When I doubt myself, she tells me
I am the best at my job and makes me believe it.
	She treats my family as if they were royalty and gives them moments of her
time--as precious as gold in her job--that will last forever in their
hearts. She gives gifts so well chosen one could almost believe she sees
inside of me.
	When things go badly for her at work and anyone else would tear her hair
out, she maintains complete professionalism and control and does not let
the work suffer. I know she has hard times, and I know her strength comes
from deep inside of her and from what she has experienced in her past. I
also know her kindness, generosity and warmth are what she is.
	Kate Mulgrew, you are indeed an incredible woman, one whom I have the
honor of calling friend. No one deserves their success and happiness more.
May I wish for you the greatest birthday you have ever had, and may I thank
you. I pray God will continue your success and happiness forever!

				Love,
				Your stand-in,
				Your friend,
				Suzy

[Photo of Kate goofing off on the set]


*REVIEWZZZZZZZZ*

PROTOTYPE

	At last a bit of a story about B'Elanna. What makes her tick, why does she
think the way she does? Tonight we got a rather more honest opportunity to
see what might drive a personality like hers. I for one enjoyed it, and
felt that I would have been proud, were B'Elanna my daughter--aside from
the forehead, I suppose.
	Predictably, our Klingon Giuseppe brings the holographic doctor in on a
consult. And it is going back to the fundamentals of their relationship
that each plays on the other's nerves and the doctor acts as a spark to
B'Elanna's intellect and her ego. Will B'Elanna and the holodoctor turn
into the Hope and Crosby of Voyager as Bones and Spock were for TOS? Having
hit on a easy resonance frequency in the viewing public, I expect we will
get more of the same. Picardo's future is, at least, secure, as he seems to
be able to steal a scene from anyone. Nevertheless, I'm getting a bit
nervous with the tendency of Messrs. Berman, et. al. to boldly go where
they've already been.
	After Starfleet's past experiences with such notable intergalactic
toasters as Nomad (TOS), V'GER (TMP), and so on, one would expect a bit
more forethought out of the Fleet before putting in a fresh pack of
batteries into everything they stumble upon. Nevertheless, we-as-viewers
supposedly come to such thoughts as dysfunctional graduates of the paranoid
'50s, after childhoods spent watching them!, Killdozer, and FrankenWeenie.
Hopefully, the 23rd century will be free of such xenophobia. Too bad that
tonight's denouement doesn't bear out so optimistic a view.
	Yes...But wait! We were right to be concerned. The robot, who could easily
get work in the off season as a radio announcer, puts the arm...er,
appendage on B'Elanna and beams her off to the robot home base. Meanwhile,
back on the ship, Voyager has, once again, had the gel-packs whacked out of
her. And to think we used to worry about little things like a fracture in
the dilithium crystals. What would Scotty say? It's too late for "Captain!
I don't think she can take much more." There are no Jiffy Lubes in the
Delta Quadrant. Much more of this and Janeway will need to getout and
push.
	One thing I did like about the robots was the total immobility of the
faces. It gave the show a certain Dr. Whovian quality and made it
impossible to know what the units were thinking. 3947 won't win any Academy
Awards, but he was endearing in a chrome-plated sort of way. Nevertheless,
the writers could've done a bit more with the character. But then this
episode wasn't called "3947," and that sadly tells you something about the
level of screenplay writing in the latter decade of the 20th century.
	When the gold-faced robots attack, it looks like this is going to be a
variation on the old white/black divided-face episode of TOS ("Let That Be
Your Last Battlefield"). I thought, wow! prejudice in an artificially
intelligent lifeform? But when we find out that the robots exterminated
their creators, we see at least one possible end to robot evolution, i.e.,
an inability to move beyond their programming. Too bad it had to be so
pessimistic and noncreative an end. Heck, humanity has been failing at that
through most of recorded history.
	So far, Star Trek has stood for an optimistic view of a future in which
even computers can have vision and integrity. Most of TOS dealt with the
evil of machines, not as a consequence of their nature as machines, but as
a complication of faulty programming, of which I suppose, tonight's might
be a variation. Yet these machines seemed more in the end like Cylon
wannabes. Given intelligence, and the ability to learn, they chose to
emulate the instincts of their creators. Unlike Data, whose inability to
'feel' made him the gentlest and most benevolent of beings, the shining
robots of this piece were led by that same lack of emotion to a mindless
acceptance of a survival dictum toward which they could hardly claim
instinctive devotion. Maybe it's just me, but I felt that tonight's episode
went a bit further towards spreading the darkness in the Star Trek
universe.

--Richard Hanson

	For those who have been yearning for a Roxann Biggs-Dawson showcase, here
it is. She was great throughout this episode. Is it her fault that the
writers continue to invent scenarios where she is kidnapped or imprisoned
by fascists? Although we have complained about character development in the
past, they have done a decent job with Torres (except in "Persistence of
Vision"). We see her continually developing relationships with Harry Kim
and Janeway. Some of the scenes with Janeway have been among the best of
the series. Torres obviously has great respect for the Captain and is
emulating her to the point where she seems to have developed an addiction
for coffee! I almost fell out of my chair at the end when she complimented
Neelix on his cuisine. Then there was the wonderful scene where she jumped
out of bed and ran into sickbay in her jammies. First we had Janeway, and
now Torres in sleepwear. How about some of the men for a change?
	Torres is impulsive and passionate about her work. She also has shown
extreme loyalty to the Captain since the Sikarian incident. Want more
parallels? She violates the Prime Directive to save Voyager. Is this the
same woman who wanted to rip Janeway's head off when she did the same to
save the Ocampans?
	I loved watching Janeway working closely with Harry and B'Elanna at the
beginning as they tried to revive the robot. This is a hands-on Captain who
likes to get her hands dirty and go on away missions. No sitting cemented
to the big chair like other Captains we know. The scene at the end was also
great. One numerous occasions, she has given her subordinates room to grow
and make mistakes. Think of Tuvok and Torres in "Prime Factors" and
Chakotay in "Maneuvers." As a scientist, Janeway understands the dilemma
Torres went through in killing the robot. One of the great things about
this show is watching the characters grow and their friendships intensify.
It is something we haven't seen much of in Star Trek before.
	We still see some of the Chakotay-Paris tension when they discuss
shuttles. It makes me wonder if they are reading all the complaints on
Internet newsgroups about shuttles being destroyed. This also may set up
some of the tension for upcoming episodes. However, Paris has become a
cliché. If we hear one more comment about how polite or friendly the aliens
are that show up on the viewscreen, I think I'll pop him one.
	On to the story itself. I thought the teaser was interesting. The robot's
vision kind of reminded me of Paris's memories in Ex Post Facto. Did anyone
look closely at those symbols?  The plot wasn't terribly original, and was
pretty hokey in some places. These were the cheesiest looking robots I've
ever seen, and that includes Twiki on Buck Rogers and the Cylons from
Battlestar Galactica. And I guess these robots haven't heard of Asimov's
three laws. This wasn't as bad as "Persistence of Vision," but it
definitely ranks up there as one of the worst we have seen to date.

--Elizabeth Klisiewicz

	I liked this episode even though I would not rank it among the
unforgettables for this season. It was time, however, for an episode that
would take us deeper into the character of B'Elanna Torres. Her bonding
with the robot was touching, showing us more of the human side of her
character. Roxann Biggs-Dawson did a nice job.
	I, like B'Elanna, thought that the Captain was being a bit harsh in her
decision to disallow the building of a prototype. Since we have seen
Captain Janeway herself in conflict over the Prime Directive, it seemed at
first as though she was being less than sympathetic to B'Elanna's feelings.
It is, however, the Captain who has to make the tough decisions, and I am
glad that she made this one. I hope this dispels some of the complaints
that this Capain cannot make the tough calls. It was good to see B'Elanna
taking her orders to heart and supporting them with her actions. However, I
do miss the Klingon half of this character. One would have thought that she
would at least pound her fist on the table as she grudgingly accepted the
Captain's decision. Sure, B'Elanna has grown, and with that she has learned
to control her temper. I do hope that the intention of the writers is not
to tame this half-Klingon woman.
	The episode as a whole was unremarkable for me. I was surprised when the
robot announced to B'Elanna that they had destroyed their "Builders," but
it was not a shocking revelation. That B'Elanna was able to complete the
prototype came as no surprise. Furthermore, though I was proud of her
destroying her creation when she saw that the Captain's decision has been
for all the right suppositions, I was not surprised at that action either.
I would have been surprised had she not done it.
	The scene at the end of the epsiode between Torres and Janeway was more in
the lines of what I thought had been missing when the initial decision was
made. It is to Kate Mulgrew's credit that she provides us with so many
different sides to her character in the span of an hour. Overall I found
this to be a likeable episode, but it did not make my top ten list. I would
have like to see more interaction between B'Elanna and the other crew
members throughout. Roxann does a wonderful job with her character, and I
hope that we will get to see more of her in future episodes. I also hope
that those episodes leave a more memorable mark.

--Siobhan Wolf

	And there wasn't even any Kenneth Branagh in it!  What, this wasn't Mary
Shelley's Frankenstein? Sorry!  Actually, "Prototype"  had a lot going for
it, including a title that made sense! I really enjoyed the opening--seeing
Voyager from an alien perspective. But not one so alien--why are all the
aliens humanoid, even the androids? And how is it that he (and all of the
Automated Units from both sides) speak Federation Standard, and why would
they be dressed?
	There were some very nice touches in the episode: B'Elanna calling Harry
"Starfleet," and The Doctor's  "I'm a doctor, not a--"  Three guesses who
got to help with his programming! Torres looks good in the jammies--shame
she doesn't get to wear the red uniform. Could someone explain  Neelix's
hours to me, and why he was up an  hour and a half before breakfast? And
isn't coffee rationed on that ship? I like the fact that Janeway's involved
in the scientific aspects  of the ship and the mission, but can still be
the captain, and still impose the Prime Directive.
	I'd like to take  exception to B'Elanna's reaction to the abduction--she
panicked and acted like a hysterical female rather than a former
Maquis/Starfleet Officer/Half-Klingon butt-kicker! And I'd like
clarification on Automated Unit #3947's comment "You will not leave this
room" --uh, not even to use the bathroom? Would a ship of  Automated Units
even have a bathroom?  For that matter, does Voyager?  We've never seen one
on Trek!
	And where is Lieutenant Carey? If Torres is  gone, shouldn't her second in
command be running Engineering,  not Harry?  He isn't even an engineer!
Where is the rest of her engineering staff?  On the bridge we always get
Janeway and her four stooges. Chakotay's comment on "when we were in the
Maquis," and her prompt "Chakotay, you have  the conn"--at least Janeway
knows the talents of her crew! I had hopes when Tuvok sent Paris into the
line of fire but, damn, the disruptors missed him. My biggest complaint was
the lack of the rest of the crew. It was 27 minutes into the episode before
we saw Chakotay, only one scene with the doctor, and it was the end before
we saw Kes! A little balance helps the mix.
	All in all, though, the plot held steady, progressed smoothly (even though
I thought the  dilithium problem was something that would cripple Voyager
permanently), and gave Torres a good showcase. And the tag was
wonderful--the bonding between Torres and Janeway. The only question is:
which one will end up with Chakotay?

--Lucy Carr

[Alliances photo]

	This episode scored points with me on three fronts, to mix a metaphor.
First of all, I liked the story. The notion of creations coming to threaten
their creators has been done before, of course, notably by Mary Shelley,
but it's a good story and this version had some interesting twists in it.
It was relevant to the world in which we live, which is rather
well-supplied with dangerous weapons which have outlived the conflict which
brought them into being, but it wasn't transparently pedantic. All in all,
it was real science fiction, not "this is on another planet and these are
aliens, so we can do whatever we think is cute" fantasy. And personally, I
liked the way the robots looked. That dent in Automated Personnel Unit
3947's head was a nice touch. The contrast between their calm, polite,
soft-spoken manner and their actual function was also nice.
	Secondly, I like continuity in the Trek universe, and so appreciated the
references to the original series (yet another variant on the "I'm a
doctor, not a ____" line) and TNG. Chakotay's "I'd hate to lose another
shuttle" had me rolling, too. In a more serious vein, it was nice to have a
show in which the Prime Directive was vindicated. It's a genuinely sensible
policy--and I'm not just saying that because I've sworn to uphold it--but
it's often been used as an artificial obstacle to doing what is obviously
the right thing.
	Thirdly, it was good to see more of B'Elanna Torres. She was believable
both as an engineer obsessed with a unique and fascinating project and as
an officer who isn't going to let Janeway down a second time. The final
scene with Janeway and Torres, in which Janeway made it clear that she
understood what Torres had sacrificed, was very moving. I do see a problem
in Torres's interactions with the other regulars, though--they're too
harmonious. She strikes me as a difficult person to get along with, and I'd
expect there to be a little more tension. When she and 3947 beamed over to
his ship, there was no one to suggest that she might have gone voluntarily.
Janeway's trust in her would have been more touching if that possibility
had been brought up. I'd like to see Carey made a regular, both to give
Torres someone to argue with and to keep poor Harry Kim from having to pull
those extra shifts in Engineering.

--Jennifer Loehlin

ALLIANCES

	I hate it when I'm right. In "Prototype," I wondered how much longer
Voyager could handle the pummeling she was receiving at the hands of every
punk ship in the Delta Quadrant. Finally, it's beginning to look as though
the crew is asking the same question. The tension starts out high in this
episode with even Janeway employing petty sarcasm when she wonders out loud
how the Maquis would handle a situation like the one in which they find
themselves.
	Why is the tension higher? Why is there a subtle difference between this
show and the one that we just saw with the robots? In the good old days
(perhaps a decade or two ago), even action shows were pretty much like
situation comedies. Consider the format of TOS or even TNG. You have a
basic premise, a group of standard heroes and generally a standard villain.
Every show would be a variation on every other show. Thus, television drama
shows were more like short stories than multi-episodic epics; each show
would be a variation played on the same theme. With shows like The Prisoner
and Battlestar Galactica, this concept changed and the idea of a greater
story emerged, with a beginning and an end to which all of the episodes are
at least nominally subservient. Much like Babylon 5 with its arc stories,
Voyager has become a show that supposedly has a direction--a higher
calling, if you will. You can tell this mostly by the way you feel a little
irked when it steers off course, and by the way your pulse beats a little
faster when you realize that the episode you've tuned into is a bit more
important than last week.
	But in what direction is it heading? The once compassionate yet forceful
Captain Janeway now appears to us as emotionally insecure and bitchy. In
her entire performance save the last three lines, there is an invasive
atmosphere of "Oh, God! I just don't know what to do. Will someone please
pour me a cup of Vulcan spice tea and do my thinking for me?" Hidden within
the legitimate concerns and the dutiful reiteration of Federation
injunctions against trucking with terrorists is a fundamental abdication of
personal direction and personal responsibility. Janeway is the captain. A
captain has all the indecisions and fears of any human being without
possessing the luxury of acting like it. I have argued before that this
need not create an inhuman and artificial character with the obsessive
macho qualities of Kirk, the stuffy moralism of Picard, or the
talking-statue of Sisko. At first, the writers made an admirable effort to
keep Janeway human. They are now treading very close to a neurotic man's
image of what a woman would be like in a position of command.
	And what about Seska? After this episode, I suggest they change her name
to Fresca. Next to her original appearance as woman who has made a
conscious decision to play hardball with the universe, she appears
positively saccharine. Well maybe that's just what happens to Cardassian
women with child--maybe they get moody and sentimental and turn into an
alien rendition of Alice Cramden. Honestly, didn't you just expect the Maj
to explode with, "To the Moon, Seska! To the Moon!" This is an epic, folks!
Seska is one of the great villains, or at least she was. Imagine Lady
Macbeth wasting her talents carping about hubby's Thursday night poker
game. There's more of Ed Bundy than Macbeth in the current story, more of
The Honeymooners in the Delta Quadrant.
	Of course, a few elements that still manage to raise the show above the
common. B'Elanna continues to emerge as a character who is admirable yet
believable. Her attitude toward mutiny is a complete reversal of her
original  position, yet completely understandable. Neelix continues to
promise some future usefulness without ever really producing it. Tuvok
continues to prove that he is both Vulcan and not Spock. The betrayal of
the Trabe was well done and not entirely predictable.
	At the point of the betrayal and the nick-of-team beam out back to the
ship, it would almost have been better to have ended. Janeway's little
polemic on treating the Delta Quadrant inhabitants as 'normal' smacked way
too much of Kirk's emotive morality lessons in TOS without even being as
concise. Janeway seems to be lecturing everyone else at the table when, in
fact, she should have been looking in the mirror. Anyone can be an armchair
quarterback, but a starship captain calls the plays. I've always believed
that intentions do count, but not when the intention is to merely abdicate
authority. Janeway and the writers have no one to blame but themselves.

--Richard Hanson

	Maquis/Starfleet tension! Seska! Allegiances that change sides as quickly
as a brushfire whipped by the wind! What more could we ask for? Jeri Taylor
did the honors for this fine but somewhat flawed episode. Nonetheless, I
think it is the best episode so far this season and we got a rare
treat--some character development.
	The essential problems with this episode were the rapid introduction of
three former Maquis we have never heard of before as well as the history of
an alien race--the Trabe--stuffed into 45 minutes. This one could have
easily been expanded into a two parter. Bandera saved the lives of Chakotay
and Torres and was Chakotay's close friend? Why have we not heard him
mentioned until now? I thought it was interesting to see another side to
our Maquis friends, but this is a thread that should have been introduced
gradually, not force fed to us at gunpoint.
	The teaser was exciting and dramatic. We were not introduced to the
anomaly of the week but are already in the midst of battle. The Captain is
being fired upon from all sides by her bridge crew, and the tension doesn't
let up until the end of this episode. We see Janeway pushed to the edge of
her tolerance by forces she can't control, and she reluctantly agrees to
try an alliance after Tuvok agrees with Chakotay's recommendation. For
those who argue that she was sniping at Chakotay, let me remind you of
recent events. In "Maneuvers," Chakotay left the ship without permission
and disobeyed direct orders. It is conceivable that the Captain is still
recovering from that transgression and doesn't know what to think anymore.
The memorial service provides us with some interesting contrasts. On the
one hand, Janeway is deeply sorry about Bandera's loss and comforts
Chakotay. She is then confronted by Hogan and her patience is tested; she
cannot resist a parting shot at her first officer, who does nothing to help
the situation. Our main problem as viewers is that we are judging Janeway's
actions through a 20th century lens. If a man made a comment like Janeway
did, would we judge him as harshly? When we see negative emotions from a
woman, those that are contrary to established gender norms, we tend to get
offended. Who hasn't had a bad day where we snap at our friends and loved
ones? The first time I watched the episode, I was a bit taken aback by her
lack of sensitivity in that scene. But after the second round, I had reason
to change my mind.
	The scenes between Janeway and Chakotay were brilliant--well-acted, tense
and emotional. These two work so well together, and I find myself returning
to these scenes to watch the sparks fly. There might be trouble in paradise
right now, but who can help but notice how close the two of them get when
they're together? And did you catch that glance at her hair on the
turbolift? I suppose we can attribute this to Beltran's interpretation of
the scene, but it certainly fuels the J/C fire. Some may not like the way
Chakotay's character is being painted, but I think this canvas gives him
far more depth. This episode brought us something that we haven't seen much
of: Janeway and Chakotay showing human failings. I did not like that smug
little smile on his face when Janeway decided to go along with his plan,
and I did not like her self-serving little Starfleet dialogue at the
end--that I-told-you-so attitude and her pointed glance at Chakotay did
make me itch to smack her. But, she was right, wasn't she? That more than
the attitude made this viewer angry.
	We also got a rare glimpse of Tuvok off-duty. We did know he cultivated
orchids, but it was refreshing to see this continuity from Tattoo. It was
also great to see some real emotion on the old boy's face. He looked
downright pleased to see Janeway. I also liked his allegory about
grafting--Neelix has used similar methods to get his point across to Tuvok
("Learning Curve")--and Tuvok did surprise the Captain, because I'm sure
she fully expected his support. Torres also continues to grow as a
character. She seems more loyal to Janeway than Chakotay does at this
point. The scene in Engineering where she defended Janeway was a highlight;
Hogan assumes that Torres is still his comrade, but she pulls rank on him.
It is hard to tell if Hogan is along for the ride. I think not. He is
confrontational and seems unable to hide his emotions, a studied contrast
to Jonas, the real traitor. These are interesting characters but I fail to
understand why they are being introduced at this late date.
	On to the alliances. There were more proposed mergers in this episode than
a typical day on Wall Street. After the problems our favorite crew has had
with her and the Nistrim, I was surprised by the cheap plot device to draw
Seska into the story. Yes, she causes tension and is a great villain. But
she is a traitor to the Maquis and the Federation and is only using the
Nistrim till something better comes along. Janeway has no reason to trust
her. Why would she consider an alliance with her for one stinking minute?
Next we have Neelix, our "trustworthy" tour guide, in a very unlikely scene
on Sobris. Did we really need to see that dancing girl? Is this how the
Kazon treat their women? This scene reeked of Star Wars and Jabba the Hut,
friends betraying friends merely for plot purposes.
	The Trabe were first alluded to in "Initiations" by Razik, who told
Chakotay that the Kazon "fought long and hard for their independence from
uniforms like yours." The Trabe were rich conquerors. Remind you of
anyone--maybe the Europeans and how they subjugated the Indians? Or maybe
plantation owners and slaves? Yet they look more human and act more
civilized than the Kazon, so Janeway and Chakotay feel comfortable with
them! Someone should have smelled a rat. The conference was strongly
reminiscent of certain gangster films and the outcome was no surprise. The
only thing missing was Chakotay doing his Marlon Brando impression.
	So, my advice to Captain Janeway is: Stop sending Neelix on away missions.
And spare us your Starfleet platitudes. Unless of course you plan on taking
your own advice and have learned your lesson.

--Elizabeth Klisiewicz

	This was a wonderful episode. When Voyager premiered, everyone involved
stressed that what would make this show special in the Trek universe was
that the ship would be stranded in an unknown area of space, and that would
open up the possibility for telling new stories which wouldn't have been
possible in the familiar Alpha Quadrant. Up until now, we have had few
stories that could not have been told within hailing frequencies of
Starfleet Command. But now the crew has been travelling for some time, the
possibility of a quick route home is growing more remote, and Voyager is
going to have to adapt to circumstances as they are rather than to those
they wish for. So when Chakotay confronts Janeway in the turbolift and
says, "Maybe we have to examine Starfleet principals with a cold eye and
ask ourselves if they're really applicable here," perhaps he was talking to
the producers and the viewers as well. Is the Prime Directive a noble
ideal, or a luxury that Voyager cannot afford? Is there any flexibility in
the interpretations of these protocals?
	Janeway has a set of principles that she has commanded from - and that she
firmly believes in. Now she's in a situation where those principles are
being brought into question--the old formulas don't always work. So as she
walks the line between the Captain she has been and the Captain she must
become, there should be a more conflicts like we saw here. She received the
same counsel from two very different senior officers, and she acted on
that.
	As it happens, in this instance, the result was far from ideal. Poor
Chakotay. Even when he has what seems to be a good idea and, wonder of
wonders, Tuvok agrees with him, he still gets cut off at the knees. And the
speech at the end was a bit of heavy-handed moralizing, but we should be
used to that from Trek by now. Janeway is a human being, and as such, she
will hopefully learn from her mistakes. She can be rigid and
inflexible--probably why she and Tuvok get along so well. She needs
episodes like this to shake her up, to allow her more flexible side to
grow, to become like the people who created Federation policy and not one
who blindly follows it.
	At the end of this episode, it appears that Janeway's faith in Starfleet
protocals has been fully justified, and Voyager will go back to business as
usual. Yet the questions have been asked, and once Pandora's box is opened,
it's virtually impossible to close it again. I expect that Chakotay will
continue to challenge Janeway to look beyond the familiar and begin to
forge a new kind of command, one which acknowledges the realities of life
in the Delta Quadrant while holding firm to the moral principles behind
Starfleet rules. At the end of the story, Janeway pontificates, "In a
region where shifting alliances are common place, we must have something
stable to rely on." That stability needs to come from within the ship and
its crew. If the experiences, imaginations and minds on the ship are all
utilized to their fullest, then Voyager truly could have "no better
allies."

--Joan Testin

[Tiny Trek]

	Voyager is in big trouble. Back in the Alpha Quadrant, Starfleet can talk
about peace and brotherhood and mutual understanding, because they're the
Big Gun--when they talk, people have no choice but to listen. 70,000 light
years away, Voyager is trapped in an area of space that doesn't give two
hoots about Starfleet or its vaunted principles. It's like Chakotay said at
the beginning of the episode: all the rules have changed, and Voyager has
to change with them. This isn't about principles, it's about survival,
something which Chakotay and the Maquis know more about than Janeway and
the Starfleeters do. We saw early on that the Kazon were wreaking havoc on
them--in past weeks, people have been dying, and the ship has sustained
continual damage--it seems evident that the time to learn new rules is at
hand.
	So "Alliances" was step one in that process, not a successful step by any
means, but certainly worth the effort, and hopefully a learning experience
for Janeway and her crew. She backed the wrong horse, probably ended up
with the Kazon hating her even more, and with a potential new enemy, the
Trabe, who may not necessarily be as splintered and powerless as they
depicted themselves to her--but she took the gamble and that has got to be
a good sign. Not such a good sign was her retreat behind the Starfleet
banner at the close of the show, but it was a lovely speech, wasn't it? I
could see Chakotay's eyes glazing over ever so slightly; he didn't buy what
she said for a minute, and neither did I!
	Still, it was great to see an episode in which a Starfleet captain tried
something new, something bold and contrary to those almighty rules. Setting
success or failure aside, Jeri Taylor allowed Janeway to break new ground
here, in the same way that Voyager itself is breaking new ground. A
Federation starship in dire straits? No allies to turn to? No armada on the
way to save them? No major threat like the Borg in sight, just a bunch of
annoying aliens with bad hair and bad attitudes? But, hey, they're hurting
"us" and "we" might have to play ball with "them", because the cavalry is
not riding to the rescue. This is good stuff, brand new ideas presented in
a brand new way. That the attempt to form an alliance failed and Voyager is
still in a bad way is itself a unique situation--this problem didn't clear
itself up in an hour as Trek problems generally do!
	What should our intrepid little crew do now? Curl up in the Federation
flag and try to tiptoe quietly off into the depths of space? I don't think
so. The answer is there, and it lies in Seska. Love her or hate her, no one
can deny that she is playing the Delta Quadrant game better than Janeway
is. She knows how to form alliances. She's using the Kazon for all they're
worth, building herself a neat little power base and of course planning to
expand it to ultimately include Voyager itself. She's not concerned with
right and wrong, only survival and power. She'll do whatever she has to do
to succeed, including sleeping with the enemy and lying to him about the
byproduct of that "sleep"--but, damn, she's efficient, isn't she? Janeway
could learn from her. She will have to learn, if she's going to keep her
crew alive and her ship in one piece, won't she?

--Diane Nichols

	They tried. Oh, how they tried. "Conflict?" they said. "Discontent??" they
said. "Between Starfleet and Maquis? Nonsense! They've mended their
differences. They're working together for a common goal." And we believed
them? Not for a minute. "Alliances" has vindicated us at last! Chakotay and
Torres may have seen the light, but the rest of the Maquis certainly
haven't. Witness the sidelong glances at the memorial service for their
fallen comrade. Makes you think they're just waiting for the right moment
to take hostages and mutiny.
	In this episode, we finally get some background on Chakotay's history with
the Maquis. I think he had a very valid point when he told Janeway that it
was high time she started thinking more like a Maquis. I'm not naive enough
to think he meant to go out and blast the first Kazon she could find, but
they're all alone a long way from reinforcements. I loved the revival of
the touchy feely count--simultaneous J/C hand contact. That should get
extra points!
	Then there's Seska, the villain you love to hate, far and away the best
bad guy to come along in a great while. I shrieked so loudly when Seska
remarked that she's carrying Culluh's baby that my eight year old came
running to see if I'd hurt myself. "No dearest, mommy's just shrieking
because she was right."
	And those Kazon ... what a macho bunch of pigs. Oink. I could re-write the
scene in a few sentences: "I'm the Captain." "You're a woman." "What's your
point?" "We're outta here." It makes me wonder how Seska copes with being a
strong woman living with these porkers. Well, ok. She's sleeping with the
Maj. But on a day to day basis...  If you want to get in the mud with the
Kazon, you can't start complaining that you might get dirty!
	Stay tuned, boys and girls. There's some actual continuity here!

--Becky Olsen

THRESHOLD

[Photo of slugs]

	Just to avoid accusations of being overly subtle, let me say, up front, I
felt personally insulted by this episode. For a while now, I have been
stumbling over opportunities to defend the integrity of Voyager,
particularly the character of Janeway. From the beginning, I realized it
was going to be a challenge for the writers to retain the qualities that
make her a great starship captain while holding on to her compassion and
basic humanity. The writers seem to be drifting toward perceiving the
character in a chauvinistic light, translating her compassion into rank
sentimentality and her reflectiveness as neurotic insecurity. But we've
gone way beyond that now. A newt? A newt? Aside from the question of what
this says about the future of human evolution (I consider it an insult to
all amphibians everywhere), there's an even simpler question. What's the
point?
	Star Trek has always offered more than just fluff science fiction to the
public. Regardless of whether one agrees or disagrees with the
Roddenberrian vision of the future, it could at least be said that Trek had
a vision. At the same time, Star Trek took the opportunity to say something
about humanity, both our strengths and our weaknesses. What does
"Threshold" say that's worth listening to? That we look grotesque when we
pull out our tongues? We've come a long way from Spock's musing over the
philosophical implications of V'Ger's quest for self-direction, haven't we,
a long way from Picard's dialogues with Q concerning the qualities of
humanity...a long way down.
	When forced to recall this episode, I will remember Janeway sitting on a
cot in sickbay, looking forlorn in a shapeless blue smock. Her snappy
comment to Paris--"Who said it was your idea?" was remotely mindful of the
personality I had come to respect and admire, but no amount of personal
charisma could make up for that horror story. It's the look I'll remember,
the expression on her face as she spoke to the holodoctor. Janeway looked
just plain embarrassed. I don't blame her. So am I. And a personal note to
Mr. Braga and the producers: You should all be embarrassed too.

--Richard Hanson

	When I saw the preview for this episode, Han Solo popped into my head. His
famous quote, "I've got a bad feeling about this," couldn't have been more
appropriate. "Threshold" seemed to take a whole bunch of ideas and smash
them together into a messy pulp--an apt description for Brannon Braga's
writing of late. Instead of describing how preposterous I found the whole
premise, I'll focus on what I liked.
	I enjoyed seeing the younger members of the crew work together to solve a
problem, PADDs in hand and coffeepot at the ready. The Janeway/Torres
parallels continue to strengthen; we've seen Torres gulping java in two of
the past three episodes. I think they'd better find more nebulas, or our
two favorite women may have to resort to fisticuffs over that last drop! I
also liked the scene with Janeway and Paris in his quarters. Kate Mulgrew
was wonderful as usual, and Robert Beltran did a credible job with his few
lines; the look of despair on his face when he thought they had lost the
Captain and Paris was perfectly in character. I especially liked his
comment to Tuvok when he wondered what he would say in his log about the
Captain's offspring, and Tuvok answering in his usual clinical manner that
he looked forward to reading it.
	The premise of Warp 10 could have been a great episode if it hadn't been
muddled by Braga's amphibian storyline. The ship was already sinking, but I
think the technobabble really did this one in. Paris dies in sickbay and
the Doctor doesn't bother informing anyone? The Captain is kidnapped again?
And why did Paris take the shuttle? Don't tell me he had a sudden yearning
to frolic with the Captain in primordial ooze--and how dare they turn her
into her animal guide? Somehow I don't think this is what Chakotay had in
mind when he taught Janeway how to commune with the spirits. A big YUCK and
a raspberry to Paramount. The final TNG episode title was "All Good
Things..." I think it really referred to Braga's writing. Fire him and get
some new writers for heaven's sake.

--Elizabeth Klisiewicz

	This episode is an enigma of sorts. The characterization and further
development of Lt. Tom Paris is to be commended. The performance Robert
Duncan McNeill brought to the episode was exceptional. There is no doubt
that these points are what kept it from being totally written off by fans
as ridiculous, "bad Trek."
	But the problems started early on for me. When Janeway approached Paris
with a realistic medical rationale for his not taking the transwarp flight,
I expected that to be the end of it. In their current position in the Delta
Quadrant, Voyager does not have the luxury of indulging the egocentric
needs of the finest pilot. The introduction of this little diversion was
contrived and unnecessary. Obviously inserted to leave the viewer wondering
what would happen to Lt. Paris, it later becomes irrelevant to the
unfolding melodrama. In the end, it served only to make Paris look like an
overgrown adolescent needing to prove himself by risking his life and to
make Janeway look like a mother who can't say no to a spoiled child. Paris
had begun to outgrow his adolescent behaviors, and Janeway has no trouble
setting limits with her crew members when necessary. One of the most
annoying things a scriptwriter can do is to manipulate characters for the
purposes of a single script. It is more reasonable to think that one would
write the script for the characters as they stand.
	Further problems arise when Lt. Paris begins to mutate. These changes are r
eminiscent of the "de-evolution" in TNG's "Genesis," and the viewer is
shocked when the Doctor finally announces that Paris has evolved into a
higher life form. This premise is not a likely progression of evolution
from a scientific standpoint, and there was nothing done throughout the
"evolving" process or the remainder of the episode to give the viewer
reason to accept it. Actually, Paris' behavior degrades as he mutates. It
would have been more believable had Paris evolved into some sort of "god"
figure, having integrated and benefitted from the experience of being "at
all points of the universe simultaneously." Was this a point on the part of
the writers, to spit in the face of believers in the possibility of
enlightenment for humankind? We were shown a human being reaching a state
of being one with all that is; then we are shown how repulsive having
reached that state becomes.
	It becomes even more difficult to believe in this particular theory of
evolution when the "evolved" Lt. Paris abducts Captain Janeway. It seems to
me that the behavior shown represents a regression to the Neanderthal days
of humankind. We are led to believe that the urge to procreate that led to
the abduction. This strikes me as an obvious ploy to grab the attention of
the supposed 15-20 year old male demographic constituency. I am afraid that
I find this to be most offensive. Sure, Lt. Paris has been portrayed as the
ladies' man; I suppose that fact entered into the writers' decision to move
the plot in this direction. They must have forgotten that in the most
recent episodes, Paris claims to be turning over a new leaf and carving out
a new identity for himself. Whatever their reasoning for taking the plot in
this direction, I still find it repulsive that they would write Janeway
this way. That this creature could abduct the captain, apparently with
little struggle, and escape with her through the Warp 10 threshold in order
to turn her into its mate, says very little about the security of Voyager
or the abilities of a captain who has been quite capable of defending
herself in previous episodes.
	Finally, there is the issue of the "offspring." It becomes painfully
apparent that a new species has been created. There are plenty of problems
with this, some of which I outlined above. Those aside, I do not believe
that Voyager would simply "leave the offspring behind" without a second
thought. It would seem that, at least for the purposes of scientific
responsibility, they would have wanted to learn as much about these
creatures as they could in order to have as much information as possible
about the effects of breaking the Warp 10 threshold. There are also plenty
of time frame problems with the swift "resolution" of this episode, not the
least of which being the question: Just how long were Paris and Janeway in
this "evolved" state of being? And although Janeway's line, "I've thought
about having children, Mr. Paris, just not with you," elicited plenty of
laughter, the Captain as she has previously been written would not take the
abandonment of her children so lightly.
	All in all I was terribly disappointed with this episode. At this stage of
Star Trek's evolution, we would hope that the writers' would understand
that they are writing for an intelligent audience. It is no big secret that
Trek fans are the most informed and involved fans out there. The least the
writers could do is to take that into account when formulating scripts.

--Siobhan Wolf

[Caricature]

	I was really looking forward to this episode; finally, I thought, we will
learn more about the character of Tom Paris, flyboy extraordinaire. Because
Chakotay has been painted lately as more of a macho thug, I have been
looking to Paris as the male character to admire and enjoy as a reformed
but honorable male of the 24th century. Unfortunately, in this episode, he
acts more like a disreputable 20th century male than a fine Starfleet
pilot.
	The episode begins with Paris pushing the envelope, which is a de rigur
thing for pilots to do. I even chortled at the way that Neelix fed intothe
inevitable Paris-Kim technobabble discussion on how to keep the nacelles
from blowing off the shuttlecraft. But from there, it seemed the episode
went downhill, fast. When Paris returns, coming back because he could see
that Janeway and Co. were looking for him, his dialogue sounded to me like
someone returning from a near-death experience, or an out-of-body
experience, which, if conventional wisdom is to be believed, changes that
person for the better. Such is not the case with Paris, who becomes ill,
and then becomes surly and makes several trite jokes before he "dies."
Kes's reaction was rather well done, as she showed respect and compassion
for him, but I expected more emotion from her, as I think her character has
become the emotional heart of Voyager; she barely shed a tear, and was more
composed than we have ever seen her at the end.
	Paris's "reawakening" was foreshadowed and melodramatic, and during his
subsequent "transformation" it seemed ludicrous to me that he would become
mean and disrespectful to Janeway when she visited him. He has not shown,
prior to this episode, signs that he harbors a great deal of resentment or
jealousy toward the captain of the ship that gave him a second chance. All
that foul ranting makes him seem a wolf in sheep's clothing--an ugly and
angry man who just needed a reason to lash out at the woman who freed him
from the bad reputation he was building for himself. I also felt that the
tongue-removal scene was unnecessary grossness. This is prime-time SF, not
a Wes Craven feature film! And to add insult to injury, we learn that this
is evolution at work--yes, boys and girls, our descendants' tongues will
fall out and they'll become nasty, gruesome beings who live in a swamp!
Where did this lousy version of pseudo-science come from?
	Soon the fish-fellow once known as Paris has escaped a whole group of
fellow officers--I thought they trained these people in combat--kidnapped
Janeway and run off to a planet with lots of muddy swamps. Here things
really get illogical, as Tuvok and Chakotay encounter two unknown creatures
on the planet and immediately shoot them. Since when is it Starfleet policy
to stun the first aliens they see on any given planet, without finding out
first if they are sentient beings able to communicate? Then the powers that
be stun the audience by showing slug puppies coming out of a hole in the
swamp, and show Chakotay's true colors by his remark that they had best not
take these little creatures up to the ship with them, abandoning infant
creatures just because their origin embarrasses him--and Tuvok, the father
of several children, agrees. Then, suddenly, Janeway and Paris are back in
sickbay, discussing mating and having children together like it's nothing.
Janeway's line about the female of the species being the one who decides to
mate rings false--this is the woman, remember, who swore that she would
never have an affair with a crewmember because it would hamper her command.
So now she can flirt with a man she had slug puppies with and just go back
to work, and she can abandon those slug puppies on a plant they know little
about without a second thought? How will this affect Janeway's command?
	What Paris did was a crime. He kidnapped a senior officer, apparently to
have sex with her. Janeway had no say in this. We didn't hear Janeway
saying that she saw everything in the universe when she went to Warp Ten
with Paris-Slug. What did she get out of this adventure but a possible
rape, an unplanned pregnancy, and slug babies to abandon? And the powers
that be at Paramount are saying that this is the natural evolution of
mankind? What does this episode say to all those little girls who watch
Voyager and are looking up to Janeway as a role model? And what does it say
to young men who watch the show? That women are only good for mating, and
it's okay to overpower one and mate with her, even if she is your captain,
who is supposedly above that sort of thing? That it's okay to produce and
then abandon offspring, just because you are now in a different shape than
before? Tom Paris didn't get punished for his caveman-like behavior, he got
commended on his service record!
	In an era where it's important to impress on the youth of the nation that
they must take personal responsibility for their actions, including the
consequences of sex--STDs and pregnancy--this episode sends the wrong
message, loud and clear. I was so disapointed and disgusted with this
episode, I wanted to cry. Wake up, Paramount! If you must pander to your
supposedly 18-25 year old male demographic, at least be responsible enough
to think about what you are telling them about the women in their lives.
Those of us who have to live with the consequences would appreciate it.

--DeAnn G. Rossetti

	I'd seen the previews, I'd read the press releases, and I'd heard Robbie
McNeill gush about this episode at conventions, so I was dreading it.
Checking the clock, I saw it was 7:55. I ran to the liquor cabinet and
belted down two quick shots of tequila, then mixed a strong rum and coke.
Cuddling a squirming cat for comfort, I switched on the TV. She immediately
clawed at my chest until I let her go, and I wondered if this was an omen.
	So far, so good. Warp ten theory...very interesting. Okay, so it's
derivative of the Infinite Improbability Generator...or is it the other way
around? Did Roddenbery come up with the "everywhere at once" theory before
Douglas Adams wrote The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy? Ah, who cares. I
take another sip of my drink because I want to be feeling the buzz when Tom
starts turning into something else.
	Interesting character development, I must say. His father did have high
hopes for him. And the bathrobe...well, let's just say that my tipsy
hormones appreciate scenes like that. If only Torres had been wearing a
robe instead of those pajamas...never mind. Okay, we're going for warp ten.
Is he going to change yet? Nope. Good. I take a monster swig and reach out
to pet the cat who has decided to creep up next to me. She backs away
warily, and once again I wonder if she's trying to tell me something.
	Oh no...he's just collapsed in the mess hall. Another large swig for
comfort. More revelations about his past while he lies in sickbay. He said
earlier that his father had high hopes for him, but now he's saying that
his most vivid memories of his childhood are of crying in his bedroom.
Guess he started disappointing his father early. And Torres doesn't cry?
Cute line, but didn't he see her cry in "Faces"? Guess his memory isn't
what it used to be. And then...he's gone. Ah, that was nicely done. But I
know the worst is yet to come. Hoping against all hope that they'll manage
to pull this off, I finish off my drink and wait for the commercial break
to end.
	Ah...the transformation begins. Assuming the "Jurassic Park" position
(i.e. a fetal ball with my hands mostly over my eyes), I watch as it
unfolds. Okay...kinda yucky but I can handle it. I'm not liking it, but I'm
handling it. What?!? His tongue fell out? Eeeeeeeeeewwww, I'm not handling
it anymore. And I'm certainly not drunk enough. Next commercial break, I
belt down another shot. The cats are nowhere to be seen. Smart cats.
	Right, this episode will have to do a lot to redeem itself now. Hey, how
is he talking without a tongue? Most vowels require it, and I know I heard
an "l" in there. Right, this is past redemption. Stop trying to analyze.
You're too drunk and too bitter. Okay...he kidnaps the Captain, steals a
shuttle...
	Salamanders?! He turns into Janeway's spirit animal?! Hold on, this can't
represent the future of human evolution. It's the wrong branch of the
evolutionary tree!!! We're mammals, dammit! Clearly, no amount of alcohol
will drown out my rational brain. Damn! And after they change back to
human, why aren't Paris and the Captain mentally scarred by the experience?
Never mind the fact that their horrible little uber-amphibian babies were
probably eaten alive by some spiny lobefish or something after they
abandoned them. Call child social services! Call the SPCA! Hell, call both
and let them figure out who has jurisdictionhere!
	Next week - Brad Dourif, America's favorite psycho, comes to Voyager and
wreaks havoc. This one looks good, which is fortuitous, because my liver
can't take much more of this abuse. Maybe I should ask my doctor for a
valium prescription...

--Jennifer Pelland (Siubhan)

[Drawing]

MELD

	I always hold my breath when I see the previews of coming attractions.
Remember the horrible preview of "Elogium"? That episode turned out to be
quite good. They say there's truth in advertising but obviously the
producers at Paramount haven't heard this maxim. "Meld" did not look at all
appealing. Only the news that Brad Dourif would guest star gave me a
glimmer of hope that this would be decent. Lo and behold, it was really
good even if Michael Piller wrote the teleplay; it almost makes up for
"Cold Fire." There wasn't much to complain about here except for the Star
Trek theme of the week: smash it up. At least we weren't forced to watch
Tuvok do this in real time.
	Tuvok should be a Canadian mountie. They always get their man. In this
case, Ensign Suder's personality was literally grafted onto Tuvok's. So,
was it Suder or Tuvok who insulted the Captain? It makes for interesting
speculation, doesn't it? I think it would have been neat to see into their
minds when they melded. Surely it wouldn't have been too difficult to pull
this off.
	Brad Dourif plays the troubled Ensign Suder. He is another one of those
characters they created by pulling him from the barrel of Maquis they keep
in suspended animation for just such occasions. We have Hogan and Jonas,
and now Suder. Playing psychos is getting to be a habit for Dourif. He
plays these parts a little too well--who can forget his mesmerizing
performance in the X-Files episode "Beyond the Sea"? Here is yet another
instance where he transcends the genre and overshadows all the regular
characters. I don't know if it was the eyes or the nearly nonexistent
eyebrows or his calm discussion of yet another day in the life of a
murderer. Creepy fellow! He grabbed me from the start and didn't let go the
entire time.
	I enjoyed the subtle way they raised the social issue of the episode
without hitting us over the head. I have to agree with Tuvok's assessment
of Suder. If I was on a starship, possibly for a lifetime with limited
resources, I'm not sure I would let a criminal live. Janeway always
stresses that everyone is needed on a ship and she does mention
rehabilitating Suder. But this issue is dropped in favor of restricting him
to quarters for the duration of the trip. This doesn't seem practical to
me.
	The B story provided us with some interesting contrasts to the A story.
Chakotay shuts down Paris's gambling operation and gets insulted by Paris
for his trouble. Our favorite first officer hesitates and it's real obvious
he'd like to act on his emotions, but he ends up storming out of
Sandrine's. This brought me back to Holodoc and his discussion about brain
patterns and aggression where he said that most of the other Maquis fit
this profile as well--psychobabble vs. technobabble for a change. And it
also parallels Tuvok's attempt to rein in his own emotions. I was
disappointed that there was no follow-up scene between Janeway and
Chakotay.
	This episode provided the Neelix haters with a great holodeck scene. The
morale officer is obnoxious, but he never goes as far as Tuvok programmed
him. Neat way of seeing what goes on in Tuvok's mind. Piller had me fooled
here. I didn't figure this for a holodeck simulation. It beat watching
Janeway and Lord Burleigh by a country mile.
	Finally, I have to say that this ranks up there as one of the better
episodes this season. Piller provided us with a dark and moody backdrop,
infused with black humor and laced with tension. It is something we rarely
see in the sanitized Trek environment.

--Elizabeth Klisiewicz

	What a difference 24 hours makes. From "Threshold" on Sunday (I missed the
original Monday airing) to "Meld" the next day; from the ridiculous to the
sublime. This episode has my vote as the best one to date and, indeed, one
of the best Star Trek episodes ever.
	From the four-scene teaser right up until the wonderfully satisfying
ending, "Meld" was tautly written and well paced. There was a very real
horror in the idea that an individual can have such a capacity for killing
without being pathologically psychotic. Brad Dourif as Suder brought a
marvelous intensity to the role without becoming too sinister or
cartoonish. And the scene near the end, when Suder cradled Tuvok in his
arms, was a wonderfully tender moment and a reminder that none of us is
beyond redemption--one of the strongest statements against capital
punishment I've ever seen.
	Unlike "Threshold," this episode's theme of justice and punishment vs.
vengeance was closely linked to the plot. Even the minor B-plot of Paris'
gambling furthered the theme. I liked the fact that everyone involved in
the pool was punished, not just Paris. Although one of the few niggling
things I disliked about this show was that Chakotay didn't turn around
after Paris' smart-aleck remark about making out reports. That wasn't a
muttered remark Paris made; he was loud and vocal in his sarcasm, and I
think Chakotay should have confined him to quarters for conduct unbecoming.
	I thoroughly enjoyed the byplay between the Doctor and Tuvok in their
scenes together. The Doctor brings a refreshingly sarcastic attitude about
a race that consciously suppresses their emotions in favor of logic. I like
his attitude that such suppression is not natural, nor is it healthy. It
works--but at a cost. Tuvok himself admitted as much in "State of Flux,"
when he told Chakotay, "Do not mistake calm for ease."
	Tim Russ' performance throughout the episode was one of tightly controlled
passion. Even when Tuvok's emotions were out of control, Russ maintained
the essential dignity of the character. Among my favorite scenes was the
one in Tuvok's quarters as Janeway arrived. The dialog was so sparse and
yet so tense--exactly how I'd imagine a Vulcan would speak if he realized
his emotional control was gone. I liked Cliff Bole's choice of camera
angles, and the lighting (or lack of it) was superb. But my favorite scene
was in sickbay, as Tuvok was undergoing the first of his treatments. There
was such potential here for Russ to play this scene too broadly, but he
neatly avoided that pitfall. I liked the fact that there were no peak ups
and downs--no going from giddy laughter to tears--just raw, focused
feelings that were nicely contrasted by the worried compassion of the other
characters.
	I began to look at my watch as the ending approached, leery of another
5-minute whirlwind finish. But I thought Piller did an excellent job of
winding things up by leaving Tuvok still in recovery at the end of the
episode, rather than back to normal. This episode presented an interesting
dichotomy: a powerful show, centered on a supposedly emotionless character,
that evoked strong emotions. In my opinion, "Meld" is right up there with
such Trek classics as TOS' "City on the Edge of Forever", TNG's "The Inner
Light", and DS9's "The Visitor". It was an episode so wonderful I wanted to
simultaneously weep and shout with the joy of viewing it.

--Alanna Whitestar

DREADNOUGHT

	When I was a bit younger, I spent hours of my time playing a strategy game
called Star Fleet Battles. There was particular scenario in this game I was
very fond of as it pitted a Star Fleet Dreadnought which moved under
automatic rules against a much less powerful, though more maneuverable,
cruiser-type vessel. I fought many battles against that dreadnought with my
little light cruiser, the U.S.S. Bette Midler, until she was decommissioned
after sustaining heavy damage in the great war against the Intruders. I
liked the game because, like TOS, it always gave me the illusion of
strategy and tactics, a window into a world of wily captains, implacable
foes, and proud ships that were powerful but never indestructible.
	"Dreadnought" brought all of that back to me and went some way toward
renewing my waning faith in Star Trek: Voyager. Like the "Doomsday Machine"
episode of TOS, it contained all the elements of a great battle: a
helpless, seemingly doomed race of innocent beings, an emotionless weapon
created only to destroy, an outgunned ship, and a determined captain. To
this it added some maturity by way of B'Elanna's involvement in the
missile's current incarnation, complete with her voice. How do you beat
your own tactical expertise? How do you respond to the taunts of your own
killer child?
	Roxann Biggs-Dawson did her usual superlative job of portraying
Klingon/Human ire and outrage and frustration, all with flawless continuity
and complete believability. B'Elanna is fast becoming my favorite
supporting character on the show, and I am torn in deciding whether it's
the writing of her character or her own acting abilities which consistently
place her performances head and shoulders above the other actors. Judging
from the recent writing efforts, I'm inclined toward the latter view.
	Not to detract from Kate Mulgrew's excellent performance. Certainly, it's
always a tense moment when a starship captain initiates the self-destruct
sequence, but under Janeway's command, the sadness triumphs over the
tension. I was particularly saddened when I considered the appropriateness
of her decision to stay with the ship. Regardless of her excellence as a
captain, Janeway has become convinced in some ways that she has failed her
crew. I would expect her at this point to prefer to go down with the ship.
I also note that it isn't Paris or Chakotay who decides to stay with the
captain in those final moments.
	Regardless of the outcome, "Dreadnought" picks up where a number of very
weak and embarrassing episodes have left off. It reaffirms the honor of the
major characters, both their humanity and their integrity. It reintroduces
Janeway as the Captain we expect her to be--with the compassion, the zeal,
the courage, and the sadness that are all part of the real character of
Janeway. It gives us a tactical thriller that easily rivals the best of the
old TOS episodes. I intend to watch this one again. In the meantime, I'm
going upstairs to find my old Star Fleet Battles game.

--Richard Hanson

[Drawing]

	"Dreadnought" was a decent episode written by what appears to be a new
writer. Torres once again gets a show; although I like her character, I
think Paramount should have left a little air space between this and
"Prototype." We saw some continuing threads: Ensign Wildman's pregnancy,
tension between Chakotay and Paris, and the Jonas-Kazon communication. I
like seeing story arcs and I hope they keep it up. In fact, I found these
threads more interesting than the A story.
	Once again Torres proves what a capable and loyal engineer she is to
Janeway. I liked the way they contrasted her with Tom Paris, who appears to
be on his way down if recent events are any indication. The talking bomb
reminded me of the John Carpenter film Dark Star, a 70s flick with stoned
space hippies. This storyline also dipped into Kubrick's 2001 territory and
I almost expected to hear the computer call Torres "Dave."
	On the Janeway/Chakotay scorecard, we got numerous glances and Chakotay's
statement that he wasn't going to leave her on the ship followed by an
elbow grab. People can read what they want into this, but I think Chakotay
felt responsible for the missile's presence. He didn't think Janeway was
the one who should stay behind and sacrifice her life. We know that
Chakotay takes things personally and wants to take full responsibility for
his actions ("Maneuvers").
	Other things I found interesting: numerous glances between Janeway and her
security chief during the briefing, Janeway monitoring the Chakotay-Paris
exchange from the doorway, and Janeway allowing Tuvok to stay at the very
end. When you add it up, Mr. Vulcan wins the day. I think Chakotay blew it
when he played cowboy, and he has to prove himself again. Again, there were
brief glimpes of interesting side stories I want to see developed.
	"Dreadnought" was nothing spectacular, but nothing to be ashamed of either.

--Elizabeth Klisiewicz

	This was a super episode--full of suspense and great character
interaction. I'm a sucker for person-versus-computer storylines anyway, and
this one had the added attraction of being a computer programmed by Torres.
In a sense she was not battling the computer, but rather working to outwit
the programmer and the person she had been two years previously. I loved
the moment on the bridge when she proclaims that she never taught the
computer to lie to her--and the computer reiterates that she, in fact, did
set that parameter up. It shows amazing intelligence and foresight on her
part. I wonder if B'Elanna plays chess? The story was well-told,
well-paced, and--like a good roller-coaster--although I knew that
everything would come out right in the end, it was one heck of a ride.
	My favorite parts of this episode were the interactions between
characters.  There were many lovely moments: Chakotay covering for Torres
in the initial briefing (notice her face when she realizes what he's
doing); Tuvok's expression when B'Elanna discusses Dreadnought's ability to
hide itself using a "sensor echo"--obvious (though maybe reluctant)
admiration for her abilities; Torres caring enough to attempt to draw Paris
out; the Doctor having little fit about Kes' father's name, they way he
deadpanned, "How flattering"--he's always worth a smile; Tuvok staying with
his Captain until the end. And of course that lovely J/C moment on the
bridge--I'm sure that arm-grip left marks!--where her response is not to
become "more-Starfleet-than-thou," but to use his name rather than his rank
and remind him that this is one of those times when "She's the Captain," so
with one more shared look, he leaves to look after their crew.
	The real Kathryn Janeway has returned to Voyager, and in the end, that's
why I was so pleased with this episode.  She has not been herself
lately--in the past few episodes she has been arrogant, rigid, and
oftentimes cold. In "Dreadnought" she listened to her crew, was open to
ideas, remained in the room when Chakotay lit into Tom (yet stayed out of
the way), worked to build a relationship with the Ricosan First Minister,
and was fully prepared to give her life to save others.  As the crew left
the bridge, they did so reluctantly--not wanting to leave her.  This crew
likes and respects their Captain, and for the first time in weeks, so did
I.
	As fans, we see in episodes and characters things that I'm sure the
writers/producers never intended.  With that in mind, I propose that while
we weren't looking, Janeway has been coming to terms with the fact that
there is no easy way back to the Alpha Quadrant. Perhaps these last few
weeks have shown us a Janeway in mourning for all that she has left behind.
If so, no wonder she has been less than at her best. In the last line of
"Dreadnought,"  Janeway turns to Tuvok and says, "Let's bring our crew
home."  Thinking of Voyager as 'home' would be a real paradigm shift for
Janeway, and for the crew. It opens up new conflicts, and gives the writers
new stories to tell.  If those new stories are all of the caliber of this
one, I look forward to the ride.

--Joan Testin

[J/C caricature]

	This was a nice little episode, a well-plotted variation on the old story
of humanoid versus machine, where a computer's creator (or programmer) is
forced to outsmart/defeat its creation. "Dreadnought" follows in the
footsteps of Hal9000 from 2001, "The Ultimate Computer" and Nomad from TOS,
and Bomb #20 from Dark Star. I liked the fact that B'Elanna didn't lead
Dreadnought into an unsolvable computer conundrum, although I couldn't help
thinking at one point that she should have tried to teach it phenomenology.
	This episode also furthered a whole lot of plot threads, including the two
recent ones concerning Crewman Jonas' supplying information to the Kazon
Nistrim and Tom Paris reverting back to the rakehell he was at the
beginning of the series. In three consecutive episodes he's gone from
breaking the threshold of warp 10 to being on report and being reprimanded.
Talk about one small step for man, one giant leap backwards for Paris. One
possible reason for this is the Buzz Aldrin syndrome. Aldrin was reared
with the same "you're destined to do great things" bullshit as Paris, but
fell short of his goal of being first on the Moon, and that "failure" sent
him into an alcoholic tailspin in the years following the Apollo 11
mission. Faced with a similar letdown, I can see Tom backsliding a bit.
But it's to wonder whether or not both arcs will come to a climax and be
resolved in one episode.
	Another thread was that of Ensign Wildman's pregnancy.  Of course she
doesn't look as big as she should, considering that she's 13 months
pregnant.  The writers really slipped up on this one, having her declare
her pregnancy in an episode that was set 9 months after "Caretaker." The
teaser also took the Doctor-Kes relationship a little farther; I'm
beginning to wonder when the Doctor's feelings for Kes will come out in the
open. Oh, it was "revealed" in "Projections," but the Doc shrugged it off.
What I'm wondering is when he'll admit to himself that being a "father
figure" is not exactly how he'd like Kes to see him.  Hmmm; an emergency
holographic medical program that needs psychotherapy.  Now there's a story
I'd like to see.
	Although the episode focused on B'Elanna, it was also filled with choice
character moments:  Tom revealing to B'Elanna how much he envies the ease
with which she's adapted to their situation; Harry Kim gently scolding
B'Elanna about the time she's spending worrying about might-have-beens; and
B'Elanna reminiscing about Chakotay's reaction to her re-programming
Dreadnought without his permission. Amazing how his reaction to B'Elanna's
act was exactly the same as Janeway's reaction to Chakotay's acts in
"Maneuvers." Both leaders were hurt and disappointed, feeling their trust
had been betrayed.  I don't know whether the author intended the parallel
or not, but it was a nice touch. And oh, that reaction of Chakotay's when
Janeway told him to coordinate the evacuation of Voyager! This scene
convinced me that a Janeway/Chakotay relationship would work. If they were
intimate, Chakotay would react exactly the same way, and Janeway would
given him exactly the same response. So why is it that the producers don't
seem up to the challenge of writing these characters into a relationship
that can be personal and professional at the same time? Yes, it's a fine
line to walk, but that's what makes great drama.
	The climax to this episode snuck up on me.  It didn't seem hurried, but
before I knew it, the show was over!  So once again the pacing was such
that everything was resolved in the last 5 minutes of the show.  I wish
there had been some sort of brief "tag." On a completely different note,
the set design for Dreadnought was beautiful--and I had a problem with
that. The Cardassians are supposed to be into stark functionality, and
although this was reflected in the simplicity of the set, I had to wonder
about the tinted plexiglass panels. You'd have thought the thing was a
temple, not an unmanned missile capable of devastating destruction.
	Between "Meld" and "Dreadnought" we've had two well-written, acted and
directed shows in a row.  And "Death Wish" looks like it could be the
third.  Looks to me like Voyager hit rock bottom with "Threshold" and is
now on a roll.  All I can say is, full speed ahead, and damn the Class 6
photon torpedoes!

--Alanna Whitestar

[Tiny Trek]


*THE KATE MULGREW FILM FESTIVAL COLUMN*

	It's not hard to draw comparisons between Heartbeat's Joanne Springsteen
and Kathryn Janeway; Daddy's Sarah Watson is another story, but she's stuck
in a Danielle Steele drama!  Lauren pointed out that J/C fans will love the
interplay between Kate's and Ben Masters' characters, but added that
Voyager's wardrobe people did a much better job of finding her a nightgown
than Heartbeat's. However, Melody says that the scene with Kate in negligee
made Daddy worth watching!
	Kate will be voicing two characters on Gargoyles next season: Anastasia
Reynard (Fox's mother) and Titania, Queen of Oberon's Children. Watch
Saturday mornings this fall on ABC.

HEARTBEAT
by Lauren Baum

	Heartbeat, a medical drama with a feminist slant, originally aired on ABC
in 1988 and ran for two seasons. I was lucky enough to view both the
two-hour pilot and the episode entitled "Paradise Lost" at the Museum of
Television and Radio in New York. Unfortunately, no other episodes were
available. The drama centered around a health clinic, Women's Medical Arts,
established by women for women. The emphasis was placed on lowering the
barriers between women and their doctors. To that end, the initial meeting
between doctors and patients took place in the doctor's office, not while
patients were naked in an examination room, and patients were encouraged to
address doctors by their first names. The care provided to their patients
was designed to be all-encompassing, including analysis of the
psychological impact of diagnoses and treatment alternatives.
	Women's Medical Arts was founded by Dr. Joanne Springsteen (Kate Mulgrew),
a gynecologist, and Dr. Eve Autrey (Laura Johnson), a surgeon. (The
characters' names were changed to Halloran and Calvert, respectively, in
the second season.) Although they geared the practice toward women, some
men were on staff; a fertility specialist and a psychiatrist were joined
sometime during the first season by a pediatrician (Ben Masters). At least
part of the impetus for establishing their own practice seems to have been
the failure of the male-dominated hospital to recognize and promote the
abilities of the protagonists. Joanne feels its time to move on. She wants
the practice to expand toward caring for the entire family, and therefore
considers hiring another male doctor. However, Eve resents the initial
refusal of male doctors to refer to the clinic and argues against
considering another male doctor for the clinic.
	While the pilot laid the ground work necessary to establish the series, it
did not differ in structure all that much from the regular episode I
watched. The one difference I noticed must have been explained in
intervening episodes. The first and last scenes were of Joanne talking to
an individual, presumably a mental health professional, whose back was to
the camera. This was obviously a plot device to expose the inner thoughts
and feelings of the character. I think it was similarly applied in The
Trials of Rosie O'Neal. However, without more background, it left me
feeling a bit confused.
	Within the medical drama context, the series dealt frankly with many
issues concerning sexual relationships, birth technologies, abortion,
pregnancy difficulties, breast cancer and treatment alternatives, and the
desire to do pro bono work despite economic constraints. Despite sobering
issues, the pilot managed comedic overtones; during a procedure for
artificial insemination, a nurse talks to the sperm, saying, "They need
encouragement, just like men do." Not to be missed was one male doctor's
description of perfect sex, which ended by attending a Lakers game with
three buddies.
	In my view, one of the best aspects of the pilot was its handling of the
conflict between a woman's career and her personal life. One doctor, though
obviously dedicated to her profession, begged vacation to bring her
children to visit their father, whose work required his absence from his
family. In this case, Joanne's approval of the vacation suggesting that she
viewed the needs of the children  as paramount.

[Photo of Kate Mulgrew, Ben Masters, and Laura Johnson in Heartbeat]

	Yet when faced with the pressures of her career on her own burgeoning
romance with pediatrician Leo Rosetti, played by Masters, she consistently
puts the needs of her patients first. Even though others could perhaps
handle the patients, she places her work first, endangering a relationship
she obviously wants to succeed. The sacrifice of a personal life or a
professional life in favor of the other is a choice often forced upon
women, and it was refreshing to see it dealt with so forthrightly. It's
never easy to have it all, and I'm not sure it's even completely possible.
Heartbeat is not afraid to tackle such questions.

DANIELLE STEELE'S DADDY
by Melody Johnson

	Let me start this review with a couple of disclaimers.  I have an
expensive history with this movie--expensive being that I recently paid
almost $100 for it because it's Kate Mulgrew and I was "jonesing" for new
Kate stuff. You can imagine the sick feeling I got when they recently reran
it on television. Anyway, I have to say I don't like Danielle Steele. I'll
admit to reading romance novels, but I'm very particular whom I read and
she is not on the list because I find her writing corny. But I am a
slobbering romantic.
	I remember watching Daddy when it first aired on TV because it starred
Kate Mulgrew and Lynda Carter--forget Patrick Duffy, who did his best work
in Man From Atlantis, thought he does have a nice body and isn't unpleasant
to look at. Lynda Carter was a diva of mine from way back, Kate a recent
one at the time. The plot is pure Danielle Steele--melodramatic, yet more
watchable than most of her other TV movies. Duffy plays Richard, a highly
successful ad man who thinks he has the perfect life--a beautiful, devoted
wife (Kate), three perfect children, etc. But of course it's not all roses.
His wife announces that she has been accepted at a prestigious writing
program; she had been a promising writer before she got married, but put it
all on hold for her family. So when she informs them that she needs to be
on her own after years of marriage and pursue her dreams as a writer, it
devastates Richard. Though she swears that she's not leaving him or the
kids, eventually she does leave them, feeling a need for independence that
she has never been able to have.
	The family has a difficult time adjusting to the breakup. Richard has a
difficult time controlling his children, especially the eldest son, who
impregnates his girlfriend and has to leave high school to work two jobs to
support them. Eventually the family moves to L.A., as Richard receives a
promotion and feels that his family might cope better in a more "relaxed"
environment and nicer surroundings (the house provided by the advertising
firm is more like a Brentwood dream that what anyone would get in real
life). Enter Charlotte (Carter), a beautiful model who finally mends his
broken heart, though not before some conflicts when she wants to star in a
play on Broadway after giving her life to Richard's family and he sees this
as yet another woman walking out on him. All ends up well for the family,
though not for Sarah: we are told that her life didn't turn out the way she
wanted after she left her family, that she went through a bad affair and
was still trying to begin a career.
	Kate's character is only mentioned and never seen in the second half of
the movie, which had two emotional levels for me. On one hand, I became
enraged that Sarah could do this to her family; I felt it was selfish as
she would consider no compromises in her choice of college, though her
husband was willing for her to return to school close to home. She lied to
them and put them through hell. On the other hand, I understood what her
character was going through. Here was a woman who had put all her dreams
aside for her husband, denying everything she had ever wanted to help him
achieve success. After years of repressing her own desires, she simply had
to break free, and once independent it was difficult for her to return to
the previous life of nonstop childcare and housework. I greatly objected to
the implication that, once she was free from her family, Sarah had a
difficult time surviving. She struggled through her new life as if she
couldn't make it on her own and was being punished for trying.
	Daddy is a well-acted movie if not a well-written one, and something of a
tear-jerker when Kate's character leaves her family. All in all, it was
pretty watchable. I don't regret paying as much as I did for it, though
Kate should be on the box with Lynda and Patrick!

[Drawing]


*THE FUNNY PAGES*

TOP TEN LISTS

Susan Johnson sent in this list and wishes to credit the editor for the
idea about the photo spread in Rolling Stone.The editor wishes to stress
that she was kidding, and is very grateful that Susan did not cite her
suggestions for action figure poses!

TOP 10 WAYS TO GET YOUR J/C FIX IF THEY WON'T EVER DO IT ON THE SHOW

10. Buy a pair of Janeway and Chakotay cardboard standees and put some
sleazy clothes on them.
9. Get .wav files of Janeway saying "If I ever need advice about mating
behavior, Commander, I'll know where to go" (Elogium) and Chakotay saying
"If you like, I could teach you" (The Cloud), and play them one after the
other.
8.  Get a tape of Kate Mulgrew in Love Spell where she says "I love you" to
Tristan, and a recording of Robert Beltran in Kiss Me a Killer where he
says "I love you" to that girl who never wears any underwear, and play them
one after the other.
7.  Only watch reruns of "Parallax," "The Cloud," "Cathexis," "The 37s,"
and especially "Elogium."
6. Think that whenever Janeway says "May I see you in my ready room," the
next word out of her mouth is going to be "naked."
5.  Find the alt.startrek.creative.erotica archive and read about them to
your heart's content.
4. Buy Janeway and Chakotay action figures and see how much action they can
get!  The legs bend a lot better than Picard's and Crusher's action
figures.
3. Assume every sappy love song on the radio is really about J&C.
2. Get Kate and Robert to do a photo spread like the one David Duchovny and
Gillian Anderson of The X-Files did for Rolling Stone...that is, pose them
in bed, in one anothers' arms, buck naked.
1. Start calling your boyfriend Chuck and make him call you Kath.

The Gifford Sisters are back!  Written by Emily and forwarded by Ruth,
straight from their home office on the Kazon Homeworld...

TOP 10 THINGS NEVER SAID TO CAPTAIN JANEWAY

10.Tom Paris: I can't take the late watch, Captain; I have a date.
9. Kes: Boy, that Paris sure is a wet and wild love god, isn't he?
8. Neelix: I'd stay away from the Talaxian Cabbage Burritos if I were you,
Captain. I didn't spice them very well, and they repeat on you like an
S.O.B.
7. Chakotay: Please stop caressing my manly chest, Captain.
6. Doc: Here, let me fix that naughty little hangnail for you.
5. Tuvok: I want my Mommy!
4. Harry Kim: What are you looking at?!
3. The Delaney Sisters: No, thank you.
2. Jonathan Frakes: No, I don't want a cameo, nor do I want to direct.
1. B'Elanna Torres: I could increase warp core efficiency by 10% if I could
just figure out who put the sham in the sham-a-lam-a-ding-dong!

TOP 10 VOYAGER PRANKS

10. Put all of Janeway's hairpins in a chain.
9. Tell Paris that the Delaney sisters are looking for him.
8. Take apart a shuttlecraft; reassemble it in the Observation Lounge.
7. Tell Neelix to "get the cheese to Sickbay!"
6. Cross Janeway's Victorian holonovel with Torres' holoepic of Kahless.
5. Hide Neelix's chef toque.
4. Re-program the computer to call Janeway "Schnookums."
3. Tell Chakotay that "the captain wants you in her quarters on the double
and at the ready."
2. Program the computer to play "The Song That Never Ends" whenever the
ship drops out of warp.
1. Delete all references to last year's alien encounters, program Earth to
show on all portholes, hide Kes and Neelix, tell Janeway that the last year
was all a dream and treat her like a mental patient.

[Janeway and Chakotay in Alliances]

HOLD MY HAND

Blootie and the Ho'fish. I'm just not sure abducting and impregnating
Janeway should earn points on the Touchy-Feely Captain Count. Maybe now
that the No Fraternizing With Crewmembers rule has been broken, she'll get
something better than a hologram...

Chakotay: 17 ["I'm not leaving you on the ship!"]
Paris: 15+ [THANK GOD those bonus points were off-camera]
Kes:  12 [A veritable fount of baby name suggestions]
Kim:  7 ["Why don't we just ask Seska?"]
Torres: 7 ["It was necessary"]
Neelix:  7 [Let's get naked and eat greasy food!]
Tuvok: 6 ["LIAR!"]
Doc:  3 ["I'm a doctor, not a voyeur"]


FIRST OFFICER'S LOG
by Jennifer Pelland (Siubhan)

	"I look forward to reading it."
	Tuvok's words echoed in Chakotay's brain as he stared balefully at his comp
uter. Somehow, he was going to have to enter the whole crazy story of Paris
and the Captain into the ship's log without bursting out laughing or
sounding like a crazed idiot. It wasn't going to be easy. Maybe if he did
his personal log first, then worked on the official log...Hmmm...that just
might work.
	"First Officer's log. We have recovered the Captain and Lieutenant Paris.
We discovered their bodies... Bodies, yeah right. Lizard bodies. We
discovered them on a lush planet by a small pond."
	Chakotay leaned back and hummed a few bars of the "Muddy Mudskipper" theme
song, hoping against all hope that the song would vacate his brain if he
paid attention to it for a few moments. No such luck.
	"As noted in the Chief Medical Officer's log, both the Captain and Paris
had changed almost completely into salamander-like creatures..."
	That did it. Now he was laughing. "Giant salamanders!" he wheezed. "And I
got to shoot both of them! Oh...life's too good sometimes. You know, most
first officers dream of getting the chance to shoot their commanding
officer, no matter how much they like her. And shooting Paris was a hoot! I
only wish he'd still had his human face so I could see his expression. Oh
man, chances like this only come once in a lifetime." He wiped the tears of
hilarity from his face and continued.
	"Tuvok made some wisecrack about being able to tell them apart by their
gender. Makes sense, really, but did he have to say it like he thought I
was an idiot? I mean, what did he think I was looking for, a bun on the
back of one of their heads? Some sign that one of them had a serious
attitude problem? Jeez. I wonder what a serious attitude problem would be
for a giant salamander? Anyhow, they seem to have reproduced."
	Now he wasn't laughing. In fact, he felt a strange pang of jealousy. "Why
do I feel so jealous? Don't be crazy," he muttered to himself. "They
weren't being themselves. Besides, the Captain wasn't exactly appealing as
a salamander. I suppose she was good looking as amphibians go, but I've
always made it a policy to stick with mammals. Amphibians are so
impersonal, so inexpressive, so cold...not to mention slimy.
	"We decided to leave the offspring behind on the planet, a decision later
approved by both Janeway and Paris. I can't imagine why they'd want to keep
them around. We can't communicate with them, they smelled fishy, and
besides, they'd be a constant reminder to Kathryn that she'd done the nasty
with Paris." Chakotay shuddered.
	"The Doctor was successful in changing them back into their original human
forms, and they are now resting in sickbay for the next three days. I
wonder if the Captain remembers that I shot her? I'll have Kes ask her a
few leading questions, just to be sure. For obvious reasons, we have
abandoned our research into warp ten technology. I sure as hell don't want
to change into a giant salamander! I wonder what Chell would turn into, or
Tuvok? They're not human, after all. Then again, maybe we could use the
technology to get back home and pin a giant note to the ship with
instructions on how to change us back to our original forms... No, I'd
rather spend 70 years in space than one day as a salamander.
	"Then again...maybe Kathryn would be interested in mating with me if we
both transformed. I'm sure she was operating on pure instinct, not out of
some perverse desire for Paris. I'd just need to be sure to be in the right
place at the right time... Then again, she's always talking fondly about
her time serving under his father. Maybe he reminds her of...oof...don't go
there, Chakotay. Besides, don't salamanders fertilize eggs outside the
body? That's not exactly romantic. Not like us mammals.
	"Anyhow, I think I'm going to have B'Elanna look into the Doctor's
programming. I can't believe that he hypothesized that Paris's mutation
represented the future of human evolution. Any third grader can tell you
that evolution occurs when randomly occurring mutations take root in and
spread through a small breeding population. Since evolution is random, the
Captain and Paris shouldn't have ended up as the same organism. Something's
obviously out of whack with the Doctor. On top of which...salamanders?
We're mammals, dammit! And very attractive mammals, if I do say so myself.
But as I mentioned, I'm biased toward mammals. We do quite definitely
represent the most attractive branch on the evolutionary tree, with our
warm skin, soft fur, gentle curves...
	"Ahem, right. Well, as I was saying, all's well that ends well. The
Captain and Paris are expected to make a full recovery with absolutely no
psychological ramifications, which is fortunate, because we don't have a
counselor on board. I suppose some people might go mildly bonkers after
being changed into giant salamanders, but not us Voyagers. Nosiree. We're
made of sterner stuff than that.
	"Well, that's all I really have to say. I'm off to record the official
log. I'm still not sure what I'm going to say. I mean, I still can't get
over all the unappealing frog-like burping Kathryn was doing when we beamed
her back. It wasn't very feminine, but she's the Captain. If she wants to
burp, then who am I to question her decision? Guess I'll just stick to the
basics and leave out the little details like that."
	He reached over and flicked off the computer, then strolled out the doors
humming the "Muddy Mudskipper" song again.

THE CAPTAIN'S NIGHTMARE
by Joan Testin

[This story came about because someone bet Joan that no matter what,
Janeway would never get romantically involved with Neelix!]

	The being called Amanda looked down and into the ship called Voyager.
Watching the crew move through its daily activities had become somewhat of
a hobby for her. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she had thought herself
one of these humans, and had lived a life on a ship much like this one.
Sometimes, but only sometimes, she wished for those days when she could
feel as strongly as she had at that time. Human life was such a fragile
thing, and those who were wise used the time well. Now that she had
infinity on her hands, Amanda had found that the ability to do everything
and go everywhere had dimmed her capacity to feel--to fear or care. Maybe
that's why she was drawn to this ship and this crew--their feelings were so
intense. Lost in the Delta Quadrant, longing for home, learning to work
with crewmates that had once been the "enemy", these people had the strong
emotional response to life that Amanda sometimes wondered if she'd ever
have again.
	Slumming, my dear? And the being called Q was there beside her.
	Not slumming, Uncle, just watching. They can prove rather fascinating--as
you well know. And she sent him a pointed smile. His fascination with
another starship and another captain was well-known among the Continuum.
	So you have found your own little ship of fools to play with, hmmm? The
good ship Voyager and her crew. Full of people who profess that they want
to explore unknown reaches of space, yet as soon as they get their wish,
they begin to whine about going home.
	Amanda, knowing only too well the soft spot Q had for humans, decided to
be honest. They--call to me, Uncle. Their emotions are so raw--and their
dilemma is so real to them. I know that, with one snap of my finger, I
could send them right back where they so want to be, yet I also know that
they must find their own way. Yet sometimes, I want to be a part of
them...to help them see the infinite possibilities within their finite
existence.
	Q, serious at last, took hold of her. It took me a long time and many
mistakes to learn this--hear me well. These humans, pitiful as they are,
have a depth of feeling that we lost--somewhere--in our quest for
perfection. They must find their own way to immortality. Perhaps, when they
do, they will show us how to regain what we have lost. Both beings floated,
deep in thought. Finally, Q gave himself a mental shake and smiled at his
young protégé. However, while we let them grow, there's nothing to say we
can't have a little fun with them...oh my, the amusing times I have enjoyed
while tormenting that prissy Jean-Luc. Shall we have an adventure, my dear?

	And Amanda, unable to resist Q when he was in this mood, grinned back at
him. And what do you have in mind, O Warped One?
	My dear youngling, I am cut to the quick. But really, have I ever told you
of the time when I put Mon Capitaine into an ancient piece of literature
called "Robin Hood"? It was terribly droll...
	I can well imagine, she giggled at the thought of the dignified Captain of
the Enterprise in tights. Ancient literature, hmmm? There was something I
remember from a class I once took. A man called...Shakespeare ...
	Perfect choice--if I recall."Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord what
fools these mortals be!"
	And laughing, the two beings began to wreak their particular brand of
havoc on the Voyager.

	[Oberon enters the glade, the moonlight glinting off of the tattoo on his
forehead.]
Oberon: 	Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania.
Titania: 	What, jealous Oberon...

	What the hell was going on? As she listened to the words pouring from her
own mouth, and her body strode around the glen, punctuating the air with
her hands, Kathryn Janeway lived within her thoughts. The figure of
Chakotay stood before her, but dressed in such a fashion! And speaking to
her in poetry, calling her Titania, and she, unable to speak what she was
really thinking, but only to be a prisoner within her own head. And
standing beside Chakotay--was that Tuvok, dressed in a little wisp of a
garment? And could those really be wings upon his back? This was, by far,
the oddest dream Janeway could ever remember. And, what was worse, she
couldn't remember a dream where she was aware that she was dreaming. But
this couldn't be reality.

Titania: 	...Not for thy fairy kingdom. Fairies, away!
		We shall chide downright if I longer stay.	

	Fairies? Her ancient Earth literature class came back to her. Of course,
this was from Shakespeare--A Midsummer Night's Dream to be exact. Actually,
a midsummer nightmare if Titania had felt like Janeway felt right now. As
her body moved through the trees and spoke with the fairies (!) all around
her, Janeway tried to figure out what was fiction, and what was reality.
She was Kathryn Janeway, Captain of the Voyager, was she not? Yet the only
part of her that was Kathryn Janeway was her thoughts. Her feet could feel
the ground beneath them, and her heart still raced with her anger towards
Oberon (Chakotay?) and concern for the young boy (Ensign Kim?) whom he
wished to steal from her. Her mind began racing--panic beginning to set
in--yet her feet continued to move serenely through the forest.
	"Now, get hold of yourself, Kathryn. There is a logical explanation for
this. Calm down and think." All of the usual culprits came to her mind, and
she rejected them one by one. Spatial anomalies, time distortions--no, not
even a holodeck malfunction could have caused this. Someone, or something,
had trapped her mind, while her body lived out the events in a play written
centuries ago. She couldn't even remember the details of this play--ancient
Earth literature class aside, it hadn't been something that lived in her
memory beyond the final exam. Well, it certainly would now! 	
	While she had been musing, her body had reached a comfortable glen, and
had entreated her fairy escort to sing her to sleep. As the fairies
obligingly sung a lullaby, the body she inhabited--hers?--curled up and
fell asleep. Yet the eyes didn't close, or if they did, Janeway no longer
needed eyes to see, for with perfect clarity she saw Oberon tip-toe in, and
squeeze a drop from a flower onto her eyelids.

Oberon: 	What thou seest when thou dost wake,
		Do it for thy true-love take ...	

	God, now she remembered this story! The potion from the flower caused
Titania to fall in love with some idiot actor with the head of an ass. This
whole scenario was perfectly ridiculous. If this was a dream, she wanted to
wake up that minute. But Kathryn (and Titania) slept on. 		

	[Enter Lysander and Hermia.]
Lysander: 	Fair love, you faint with wand'ring in the wood...

	And Janeway lay and listened as Lysander and Hermia--from her perspective
Kes and theDoctor--proclaimed their everlasting devotion. The two finally
lay down to sleep, but far enough apart to guard Hermia's virtue. Kathryn
could not help but be impressed with the creativity of her own
subconscious. This dream (for she had decided it had to be a dream ...
anything else was just impossible to contemplate) was a very inventive one.
	As Janeway watched, Tuvok slipped over to the sleeping Doctor--interesting
to see a sleeping hologram!--and put some of the potion in his eyes.
Kathryn couldn't help noticing that Tuvok's costume covered very little of
him, and that he was actually built rather nicely. He spoke a rather
lengthy speech, and then departed.
	
	[Enter Demetrius and Helena, running.]
Helena: 	Stay, though thou kill me, sweet Demetrius.
Demetrius: 	I charge thee, hence, and do not haunt me thus.
Helena: 	O, wilt thou darkling leave me? Do not so.
Demetrius: 	Stay, on thy peril! I alone will go.	

	And Tom Paris, for it was he that Janeway saw, exited the glen, leaving
B'Elanna, rejected, to sit in the glen and pine for her lost love. Janeway
listened to Torres pine for her lost lover and couldn't help but giggle at
the thought of those two together. She couldn't imagine a more unlikely
pairing--Tom and B'Elanna had been at each other's throats for the first
few months of Voyager's travels, and they were still barely polite with
each other. But then Lysander/the Doctor woke up and began to proclaim his
undying love for Helena/Torres. Oh, of course: the potion that Tuvok--or
Puck--had placed in his eyes would cause him to fall madly in love with her
and forget all about Hermia/Kes.

Helena: 	Do not say so, Lysander, say not so...
		Yet Hermia still loves you. Then be content.
Lysander: 	Content with Hermia? No! I do repent
		The tedious minutes I with her have spent...	

	Janeway actually found herself beginning to enjoy this dream. She had not
remembered that the play was so funny. Of course, it now had the added
attraction of being populated with people she knew--that made it even
funnier. The Doctor was now on his knees, pleading with Torres to love him.
She, full of righteous indignation, shunned him and left. The Doctor, with
one last scornful speech for his previously beloved Kes, went off after
her. Predictably, Hermia/Kes awakened and, after sniveling with fright over
being alone, went off in search of her lost love.
	"Well, is she in for a surprise!" Janeway thought, and wished that this
body would wake up so that she could follow and spy on the reunion. She was
sure that it would be an interesting one. "Let's see, I've seen Chakotay,
Tuvok, Paris, B'Elanna, Kes, the Doctor--oh, and Kim is the boy I want to
adopt. That leaves..."	
	Janeway felt a slow horror come over her as she watched the next part of
the story unfold before her eyes. The group of actors was led by the one
crew member she had yet to account for--Neelix. She lay powerless as the
actors began to run through their lines, telling of the tragic love of
Pyramus and Thisbe. Bottom/Neelix swaggered through his part with all of
the bravado she had come to expect from him on Voyager. As he made his next
entrance, he was accompanied by a Puck/Tuvok that only she seemed to be
able to see.

Quince: 	Oh monstrous! Oh strange! We are haunted.
		Pray, masters! Fly masters!		
	[Exit all actors except Bottom.]	

	The actors had reacted exactly as the play called for them to--they must
have seen Bottom with the head of an ass. What Janeway saw was Neelix,
acting like an ass. And for all of her strength of will, she could not
prevent what happened next. As Bottom/Neelix began to sing, very badly, the
body of Titania began to awaken. Kathryn screamed at herself, "No - for
God's sake don't open your eyes!" But it was too late. Titania's eyes were
opened and the potion on them made her fall madly in love with the first
person she saw, Neelix.

Titania: 	What angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed?

	Janeway wondered if it were possible to vomit in one's mind. Not only was
her voice speaking words of passion to Neelix, but her body was responding
tohim as well. Even while her mind was repulsed at the thought, her
fingers ached to run through the patches of hair on his face and hands. Her
eyes, of their own volition, strayed to the markings on his face and
wondered how far down his body those marks went. Bottom/Neelix, ever
believing in his own attractiveness, had no problem believing that the
Queen of the Fairies would fall for him. In a hysterical moment, Kathryn
wondered how the real Neelix would react if she, the Captain, proclaimed
her passion for him. Probably exactly the same way. The scene
ended--mercifully.

Titania:  	Come wait upon him; lead him to my bower...

	"Wait one damn minute--my bower? My bed?? Kathryn, wake up, wake up, wake
up, WAKE UP WAKEUPWAKEUP..." Yet outwardly, her voice betrayed none of her
horror.

Titania: 	...tie up my lover's tongue, bring him silently.		
	Okay, now here was an idea she could live with. Tie up his tongue--she'd
often wanted to muzzle Neelix, but this was even better! As the play went
on behind her, Kathryn moved towards her bower--and her destiny with
Neelix. They sank together on the soft bed--her mouth murmuring sweet words
of love in his ears. They were no longer following any script that Janeway
could remember reading--and she knew that stage plays of this era were not
explicit. The captain's brain reeled as she tried to find a way out of this
scenario. Before, they had seemed to be following the script--as near as
she could remember it, anyway. But now, since they had deviated from the
script, perhaps if she were careful, she could regain some influence over
her body. She started with words in the hopes that if she spoke in the
style of the play she might begin to communicate. "Begone, my fairy escort,
that my love and I might consort in private." She was amazed when the words
actually left her mouth--and the fairies left them alone. Now, at least, if
this thing did happen, they wouldn't have an audience. She tried again,
borrowing the words that Hermia/Kes had used earlier. "Gentle friend, for
love and courtesy lie further off."
	Neelix responded in a voice rough with passion, "Nay, my love, for your
charms you have shown to me. Your breath quickens even as to mine."
	Oh, this was too frustrating. Her breath was "quickening" and it was going
to be impossible to convince him that she didn't want him. It was becoming
very hard to convince herself. "This is Neelix, you idiot. The whiner, the
incessant talker, the terrible cook!" But try as she might, her body
responded to his murmurs and caresses. If this truly was Neelix'
self-vaunted romantic technique, for once, the Talaxian had not exaggerated
his capabilities. His hands were stroking her in places she had never
thought of as erotic. Her clothing seemed to melt away (more proof that
this was a dream--in real life, it could be terribly awkward getting
undressed). As her hands, still not under her control, moved to bring his
mouth to hers for a passionate kiss, he stopped her. For one moment, she
saw confusion looking out of his eyes. Then he spoke softly, "My kisses I
save for the one who owns my heart, and you, fair Queen, are not she. I
must needs hold onto that vow--or I'll forsaken be."	
	It came to Janeway suddenly that if this were not a dream, she might not
be the only one who was acting against her own will. And if there was
someone, something who was doing this to her crew--and suddenly she was
absolutely, stone-cold furious. That fury propelled her to her feet,
tumbling Neelix to the ground. Her fists at her sides, she moved her head
from side-to-side--searching for evidence of onlookers in the woods
surrounding them. Neelix reached out and began to caress her calf--reaching
towards the back of her knees. But this time, Kathryn's will was stronger
than the erotic sensations that threatened to flood her again. She stood as
tall as she could, her glare defying whatever--or whoever--was causing this
incredible farce. 	

	You could force her, you know. You're much stronger than she is.
	No, Uncle, I will not force her. While she was taking pleasure in this, I could enjoy the humor of the situation. But I will take no joy in another's pain.
	Pain? My dear Amanda, she is feeling no pain. The woman is open and ready
to be with that Neelix person--who, by the way, she would never consider
mating with. That's the beauty of the whole scenario, don't you see?
	NO--there is no beauty in this anymore, and it is not amusing, and it will
end NOW. And in a flash of light, the woods, the glen, and all of its
inhabitants vanished, leaving the two beings once again floating in the
vastness of space.	
	Amanda, are you crying?  She didn't answer--wouldn't look his way. Amanda,
don't cry. I never meant to hurt you. But...I had to know, don't you see?
It took me so long to learn that torturing another cost me a part of
myself. Until I was put in the position defending them to the Continuum, I
hadn't considered their value--except as my playthings. I needed to know if
you were going to follow that same self-destructive path.
	Amanda turned and "looked" at him. You mean that all of this was some kind
of test? Like the one on the Enterprise? At Q's nod, she smiled slowly. May
I assume I passed? And at his second nod, her smile widened and she blasted
him into the center of the farthest nova she could reach. Then, with
nothing to do until he made his way out of it and back to her--my, that had
felt good--she set about smoothing the wrinkles she had caused in the
fabric of the good ship Voyager.

	Janeway awoke with a start. "Goddess, what a terrible dream," she moaned,
holding her head. "Making love with Neelix of all people! Kathryn, if this
is an example of what happens when you're celibate too long..." For a
moment, she allowed herself to dwell on the lover she wished she could
consider, and then gave herself a mental shake. There was no time to think
about lovers, fantasy or (she shuddered) conjured up by dreams. After a
quick shower, she pulled on her uniform and headed to the mess hall for
breakfast.  She would not allow herself to think of her dream
anymore--Neelix' food was difficult enough to get down without remembering
his hairy hands on her...and she rounded the corner into the mess hall.
Neelix, as usual, was humming as he served up the latest delicacy.
Foolishly, when she got to the counter, she held his gaze for an extra
moment--looking to see if perhaps he remembered a certain glen. But Neelix
gave her his usual overly-graphic description of the meal she was about to
eat. Of course, she expected nothing else, it had been just a dream.  As
she turned to go, Neelix resumed his almost tuneless humming. Only this
time, Kathryn Janeway went cold as she recognized the tune--the lullaby
that the fairies had sung to Titania...

[Cartoon]


*VOYAGER PEOPLE*

[Christie Golden wrote one of the best-received Trek novels ever, certainly
the most popular of the Voyager series; see the reviews of The Murdered Sun
later in this issue. Juliann Medina sold Paramount the story which is being
adapted for the 30th anniversary of Trek episode of Voyager for this fall.
And we have them both on one page!]

CHRISTIE GOLDEN
by Juliann Medina

NV: First off, Christie, congratulations on the book. It is a favorite
among the fans and it is, by far, my favorite Voyager novel. You once told
me your fears about fan response to The Murdered Sun (TMS). Could you talk
about that?

CG: Well, sure. When you're tackling something that is as  well known loved
as Star Trek, one tends to tread delicately because the fans know what they
want and they're very vocal about it. If you screw up, they'll let you
know. I've read some responsess to other Trek books in which the fans were
not very happy at all. I was crossing my fingers after TMS was done, you
know. I thought I had gotten it, but opinions about one's own work are not
necessarily accurate. When I shipped the book out I was very apprehensive
because I knew if [the fans] didn't like it, I would hear about it! But I'm
delighted to say the response has been overwhelmingly positive.

NV: Once Paramount okays your idea, do they set you up with a structure to follow with your idea?

CG: I heard all the rumors and scare stories, but the boundaries are quite
logical. They don't want you to take the show in a new direction, but that
makes sense--that's for the show to do. They don't want you to delve too
deeply into the character background, so by default you're doing an
action/adventure story. I knew all this going in, but I did not find it a
problem. I was fully expecting to have TMS edited from here to next week,
but that didn't happen. They did change one thing at Paramount, though. I
had named and described Chakotay's spirit animal. Since they had not
introduced her on the show yet, they didn't want the book to reveal what
kind of animal she was or what her name was. So they edited out the
concrete things about her, leaving her very mysterious and dreamlike. They
left things like "the soft sound of wise feet on green grass, a flick of
tail, a glint of amber eyes." That's nothing concrete--you can't say that
is a ____--but it worked really well. So the myth of the rigid outline is
certainly exaggerated. It is there, to an extent, but it's not this
horrible little box that you can't do anything creative, moving and
exciting in. I had fun with the story and the readers seem to like it.

NV: Who was your favorite character to write for in TMS?

CG: Actually I have two. They are Chakotay and Tom Paris.  Paris is a lot
of fun because he is such a bad boy, and you have a lot more flexability
with a character like that. It's a lot of fun to write for a smart-mouth,
rather than for a character who is more thoughtful. And there's a lot of
depth to Paris that people don't realize.  Chakotay is just fascinating.
There are so many things that [the producers] hint at but haven't developed
yet. I am very pleased that Paramount let me do as much as they did with
the book and Chakotay's spirit animal. I had a lot of fun dipping into what
this character would be like and what insights she would provide.

NV: There has been a lot of discussion about Janeway's love life, or lack
of it, rather, as long as you don't count amphibian love. Any thoughts on
this?

CG: Janeway strikes me...that her relationship with Mark is very deep and
very loving. I think it would be a real wrestling with her conscience to
turn her back on that. And it would also be for her to admit to herself
that she and her crew aren't going to make it home. You know, once you give
up a relationship like that, you're telling yourself, well, I'm never going
to see him again anyway... And that is a big psychological hurdle. Quite
apart from any issues of committment, letting go of Mark would equivelant
to her saying, we're not going to make it home. And I don't think she's
ready to do that. I had not thought about it when I was writing the book,
but in TMS, there are little scenes at the beginning and end, which we call
bookends, with Janeway and Chakotay sleeping--or unable to sleep--in their
own separate quarters. Janeway is getting ready for bed, but then Chakotay
comes to talk to her. What I emphasized there was that they were becoming
very close as good friends. But I also emphasized the question, what's
going to happen when they get closer to Federation space? Is she going to
turn him over? There's going to be a lot of tension when that becomes a
real possibility. And I addressed that. But in my topic on GEnie, a lot of
people said, "I really liked that unresolved sexual tension between
Chakotay and Janeway." I was like, What?! What sexual tension? You're
reading something into this! Then someone else piped up, "Oh, no, no! I saw
it there, too." So if it is there, it must have been so subconsious I
wasn't even aware of it.

NV: Is there a particular direction that you would like to see the show take?

CG: They set up the show with conflict conflict conflict between the Maquis
and Starfleet crew, but that was resolved by the end of the pilot! I like
the episodes where that bubbles to the surface again. I would like to see
the effects of what is essentially cabin fever. These people are stuck with
eachother for a very long time, much more so than any other crew has been.
So I would like to see some chafing and jostling for elbow room going on.
They've got a great idea there, but they haven't really run with it yet.

NV: When was your first interest in Trek and how did that guide you towards
TMS?

CG: I remember the first episode I watched. A friend of mine wouldn't come
out and play with me one day--this was in the fifth grade--because she was
watching Star Trek, and I wanted to see what kept her from coming to play
with me! So I watched it--it was that [TOS] episode with the individual
brain cells, the ones that latched onto Spock's back, then they did the
light that made him temporarily blind... That was the first one I saw and I
was riveted. I loved it. And I became rabid about Star Trek. I was very
interested in Trek all through high school, but Star Trek didn't really hit
me until I was a little older-- there's something about being fifteen years
old and really seeing something brand new to you, and that's what Trek was
for me. My parents just despaired of me ever leading a useful life because
all I wanted to do was watch these silly SF shows. Of course the last laugh
is mine because now I'm actually making a living off it. I did see it (TOS)
in reruns, then I followed TNG and of course Voyager, so, I'm a fan as well
as a professional writer.

NV: During all the hype for Voyager, before the first episode even aired,
there was a lot of speculation as to whether it could continue the
tradition and still be new and exciting. Did you have any reservations
about the new Star Trek?

CG: Well...I'll be frank. The potential is there--the  potential is always
there. The basic idea is just so good, but I think it has come under the
microscope a little too closely, too soon. People are not giving it the
time they gave TNG to find its feet. If you remember the first several
episodes of TNG, they were dreadful! But that show went on to do some
marvelous things! And Voyager, once they hit their stride, we're going to
see some dynamite episodes.  The casting is terrific, the premise is really
good, and I think that with the last few episodes we're starting to see
what can be done with it. My favorite early episode was "The Eye of the
Needle" and I think that is about as good as anything they've done since.
It got to what the whole premise is about--getting home--and how they felt
about it. I stood up and cheered when I found out there was going to be a
female captain. It's about bloody time, you know? We've seen them as little
walk-on roles in TNG, but I was very excited about the idea of a female
captain. I'm even more pleased with the way they did it. It's not like, oh
wow, she's a woman captain, but she just is. She is who she is and
everybody accepts that. Nobody has that "But she's a woman!" hurdle to deal
with. Those hurdles have been cleared by other women in the past and that's
not something Janeway has to worry about. I have to say that with the pilot
episode, everyone was still...finding their sea-legs, as it were, but I
think Kate Mulgrew is terrific. I really like what she's done with the
role. She seems, at once, very much a captain and very compassionate. She
is definitely a captain, and definitely a woman. She brings to it things
that a man would not, and it's all to the good. It doesn't make her a
better or a worse captain than, say, Picard or Sisko, but I certainly like
the way the character is developing. One thing my agent told me when I was
working on a proposal for TMS was that, even in this day and age, they were
getting a lot of proposals where poor Kathryn Janeway gets kidnapped and
all the strong men get to rescue her. And they were just chucking these
proposals out left and right because that's not what the show, or the
character, is about. So I was told, in no uncertain terms, that Janeway was
to be a major character in the book, and she was to be an active character.
I hope I did that. I had fun with some of the other characters, too, but I
think Janeway is clearly the shepherding figure in the book.

NV: Do you plan on doing any future Voyager work, either with the show or
with the novels?

CG: I have another proposal that went from me, to my agent, to Pocket
Books, to Paramount in less than twenty-four hours, so I must be doing
something right. We're waiting to hear back from Paramount on that one. I
had a really good time writing this book, especially after I got all the
science down to the point where I could work with it, and I would love to
do one of the shows sometime. I'm trained as a playwright so it's very
natural for me to think in terms of dialogue and scenes. That makes it
easier to work with characters whose primary medium is television.

NV: Is there anything in particular that guided you toward a writing career?

CG: I learned to read very early. I was reading at a fifth grade level by
the time I was in the first grade. Because of that, I read everything. I
think that is what really sparked my interest in pursuing this, because I
knew the pleasure that books could give. My parents--they're not sure where
I came from, because my family is very ordinary, except for me, though I'm
pretty ordinary too, except for the fact that I like to write about
lizard-like aliens and elven vampires--things like that.

NV: Any suggestions for aspiring Trek novelists?

CG: The best thing I can honestly tell you, which is not what people want
to hear, but it will save a lot of head aches, is if you love to write, you
should write other things besides Star Trek. Once you get the
credentials--and it doesn't have to be a bestseller, just some short
stories published somewhere, something enough that says you're a
professional. I had come up with these great ideas, and they were so great
that they had already assigned them to another writer. And it would be
heartbreaking--I think of all the people out there, the fans, who have
labored on their one book, then maybe the day before it was received by
John Ordover [at Pocket Books] he's already signed somebody else to do that
same idea. Then you're stuck. You can't take that book anywhere else. So
people may think Trek is an easy way break in, but it's actually one of the
hardest. Anyone who is serious about doing this is probably serious about
writing in general. So my advice would be to concentrate on finding your
own voice, and that will make you much more desirable because you're a
professional and they know they can trust you. Sometimes, like I said, my
deadline was three months, and it wouldn't be fair to expect someone who
has never written a book to do one in three months. That's hard. So, my
advice would be to work on your own career just as a writer in general,
enough to attract an agent, because Trek does not look at unagented
proposals. Have your agent do the leg-work for you, then go from there.
That's really the easiest way to do it.

NV: How did you get started writing professionally, and how did you make
the transition from amateur to pro?

CG: Well, I've always been interested in writing and I had a manuscript,
which is still in the drawer, that I shopped around and got the good
rejection slips--you know the ones: "We don't want this right now, but we
want to see more"--and I knew enough by then to know this wasn't bad.
Eventually, I kind of got in through the back door with TSR because they
were having open auditions at that time. They don't do that anymore, but
they were having auditions and they would shop an idea out to all the
people whose writing they knew well enough to take an interest in. I did
the audition for Vampires of the Mist, and I got it. I don't think anyone
was more surprised than they were to find out it was my first published
credit. But I did three books for TSR, Vampires of the Mist, Dance of the
Dead, and The Enemy Within--there's a funny story about that. Your may
remember that as an episode title for Star Trek. Well, my novel was a kind
of a Jekyll and Hyde story, and I couldn't come up with the title. I must
have pulled that one from the recesses of my mind. Then a couple days later
I realized, oh! this is aTrek title, we can't use that. So I came up with
another one, but TSR wanted The Enemy Within, and they wouldn't listen to
me. So it stuck, with apologies to Star Trek. And it went from there. The
Murdered Sun was actually written after my first original novel, coming out
in April. It's a fantasy, titled Instrument of Fate. Those are the five
published credits I have besides several short stories. I've just turned in
a sixth novel which is in the same universe as Fate, but it's not a direct
sequel. It's titled Kingsman, Thief and it will be out in '97 from ACE.

NV: Which one is your favorite?

CG: Well...you know, One must love all one's children, but I think my
favorite is the upcoming Instrument of Fate. It's very special to me
because it's the latest incarnation of an idea I've had since the ninth
grade. It's been a real dream to work in this world that has changed and
evolved as I have. So it's very exciting to finally see something set in
that universe, and be published.

NV: What writers influenced you, growing up, and is there a  particular
writer who made you say, I want to do this?

CG: Well, I think the biggest influence--and everyone who writes fantasy
says this--is Tolkien. Then I read the works of Katherine Kurtz. Her work
is excellent, but it's accessible in a way that Tolkien isn't. That's when
I made the transition from saying, I want to read this, to, I want to write
this, and I want other people to feel what I'm feeling when I read
something really good.  Later, I met Katherine and told her that she was
the inspiration for my writing and gave her a copy of Vampire. It knocked
me off my feather when I later got a fan letter from her. She really,
really liked the book! Since then, she has helped me a lot, looked at some
of my outlines and other work. It's very nice when someone you admire turns
out to be a nice person, too.

NV: Who influences you now? Who are your favorite writers?

CG: Gosh. Right now I'm not reading much in the field,  because when I do I
find myself asking, how does [the author] do that? It becomes almost more
of a lesson than just sheer escapism. My husband and I just finished
listening to Elizabeth Peters' Amelia Peabody books. Those are wonderful--a
lot of fun. Another writer that I've read--not recently, but within the
last couple of years, and nobody seems to know her name--is Tiffany Jane
Van Scyoc. She writes wonderful, wonderful stuff. [Christie's husband,
Michael, leans over and whispers something in her ear.] Tony Hillerman!
Yes! It's interesting because I write science-fiction and fantasy, and now
I'm getting into reading mystery for pleasure, which I've never done
before. But, it's important for people who want to write to stay fresh, to
not get so boxed in [within the genre], because influences can come from
anywhere. For instance, in The Murdered Sun there's a lot of relationships
to Indian cultures that kind of came in via the Tony Hillerman books. They
sparked my interest, and then my own research.

NV: What kind of research did you do for TMS?

CG: [laughs] Well, I bought as many simple science books as I could get.
That's because I was dealing with a lot of very technical things with the
sun-eater. And I had a very short deadline--I had three months to write
this, and I had about a week to cobble together a proposal. So I couldn't
spend time reading treatises. I had to get something that would explain it
to me comprehensively, but simply. And quickly. A wonderful book was called
The Universe Explained. And Stephen Hawking--he is wonderful. I really
enjoyed reading a lot of his essays. There was a lot of humor there. And
I'm sure Trek fans will remember his appearance on TNG. He's a big Star
Trek fan.

NV: So you're working your way across the board in the genre--sf, horror,
fantasy...have you written any mystery?  Do you want to?

CG: Maybe! I might be doing an X-Files book, which is kind of in that
field. Now I said might--nothing definite.

NV: Where do you go, or what do you do for inspiration now?  Not
necessarily writers, but anything that inspires you for an idea, to keep
going...

CG: Everything. Everything. It's funny--I have friends  who tease me about
not having a nine-to-five job. Well, my job is twenty-four hours a day!
Because when you make a living this way, you're constantly observing.
Somebody says a phrase or you read an article...in fact, if this X-Files
thing works out, it's based on an incident that happened here in Denver.
It's just amazing what's out there. Once you are attuned to listening and
observing your world you find that the world is full of wonderful,
wonderful ideas and jumping-off points. I would say to people who want to
be writers to just keep your ears and eyes open because the world is not as
boring and normal as you might think.

NV: In your fiction, have you ever dealt with worldly, twentieth-century
issues such as famines, or the rampant neglect of children in Bosnia or
Brazil? Things like that? What kind of themes run through your work?

CG: Nothing quite that specific. I have dealt with issues like rape and
slavery, and various roles women have played in various societies. But not
things that are that identifiable or immediate, no. It's corny, but I like
to write about the triumph  of the human spirit. I like to put my
characters through a lot [evil laughter]. I couldn't do as much as I would
have liked to do with the Voyager novel because everyone has to be alive at
the end. But a character in any of my other books might not make it that
far. There's a lot of risk. There's a lot of hurt. But there's also a lot
of victory, and struggling for things that are important. I find that is a
theme that crops up a lot in what I do, because that is what interests me.
I think people are the most amazing things in the world and the things
people have had to endure as nations, and as individuals. That eternal
struggle for the light, verses the dark, is fascinating. I think that is
why things like Star Trek, Star Wars and Lord of the Rings are so
popular--because they deal with that. It is eternal. And if you can write
about that well, with characters that people will remember, then I think
you're doing your job.

NV: If all the Trek characters didn't have to be alive at the end of a
story, what would you do with them?

CG: Oooh, dangerous ground. If it was just a one-shot book, you know, a one
time thing...Paris wants to redeem himself so badly, I'd probably have him
die while doing something really wonderful. Something very selfless and
brave. Something that matters, because that is not a wasted death. The
other characters' issues can be realized in a...less dramatic way--you
know, Chakotay is coming to terms that he is now allied with his enemy.
Janeway is learning how to deal with people who aren't exactly spit and
polish, and Tuvok is having to deal with all these emotional people. So I
think that these other characters can, and are, being realized within the
scope of the show, but Paris will have to buy that redemption, somehow.
Wasn't it the Romans who said it is important to make a good death?
[Christie's husband leans over: "It was the Klingons."] No it wasn't the
Klingons! [laugher all around] But  Paris is just such an obvious character
for that, so he will have to pay dearly, through his actions. And there's
nothing more dramatic for someone who appears to be a selfish person,
always looking out for number one, who sacrifices himself for others. It's
a very powerful statement.

NV: Where do you see yourself in five, ten years down the road? What would
you like to have accomplished by then?

CG: Oh, gosh, um...I'd like to be somebody whose name people know. And that
they know when they pick up a Christie Golden book, they're going to get
something that is well thought out, entertaining, and something they'll
think about after they're done with the book. I don't want to do something
that's just a carbon copy of every other fantasy, or typical sf. The things
I like are very diverse. I hope I can bring that to my writing. Oh, and
what can I say...It would be nice if my husband got to quit his job and
pursue his dream, which is painting.

NV: I have one more question. Will you sign my book?

CG: I'd be delighted to.

[Drawing]


*BOOKS AND COLLECTIBLES*

STAR TREK: VOYAGER #6: THE MURDERED SUN
by Christie Golden; Pocket Books, 1995.

	I could not put this book down. I had to struggle through the other
Voyager novels, but this was a rare treat to be savored slowly. Golden has
tapped into the Voyager vein and come up with a gold mine (pun intended).
She has allowed us a rare glimpse into the psyches of Janeway and Chakotay
that we never get to see in a 45 minute episode. She introduces us to what
appear to be two new alien races in an intriguing fashion without
overwhelming us with technobabble. We get realistically drawn battle scenes
with Janeway making logical command decisions. We are treated to her
uncertainties and Chakotay's chafing at Starfleet constraints. Janeway has
her moments of doubt about the Prime Directive. We see Tom Paris overcome
his physical revulsion for the aliens and come through as a hero at the
end. Wonderful stuff!
	I really liked the scenes with Chakotay and his animal guide. What I
wouldn't give to see Robert Beltran in a loincloth (be still my heart)! On
a more serious note, I have been extremely disappointed that this story
thread was dropped after "The Cloud." Golden has provided Chakotay with a
depth we rarely see in the series. Chakotay's empathy for the Verunans and
their plight, which moves him to the point of insubordination, worked well;
we haven't seen much of this since "Parallax" and again in "Maneuvers." The
good tense scene between Chakotay and Torres where she wants to improve the
Verunan ships also brought me back to "Parallax". Chakotay seems to grit
his teeth when he has to pull rank and tell B'Elanna not to violate the
Prime Directive. I really enjoyed the parallels between Chakotay and the
Verunans' oral traditions, especially the scene where Nata and Chakotay
exchange stories from their people.
	I also appreciated the obvious affection and respect between Janeway and
Chakotay. The closing scene with Janeway's flowing tresses and robe is
worth the price of admission alone. And, ah, the things unsaid; I can just
imagine those searing looks. I also liked the scenes where Janeway and
Chakotay look at one another when the other's attention is elsewhere--or so
they think--Chakotay is caught, at one point. Grateful sighs from all us
J/C fans in cyberspace. Ms. Golden, you have the eye!
	Golden appears to watch the show closely. We get real continuity: Harry's
slip of, "Yes ma'am-Captain." Various references to coffee made me smile.
Here is a woman after my own heart. Exploring strange new worlds and
nebulas in hopes of finding exotic strains of java. I have to admit that
Tom Paris is not my favorite character; in the series, he has mostly been
drawn as a shallow, cocky officer. Here, he is shown to have personal
reservations about the Verunans but he overcomes his feelings and stages
the rescue of the Verunan slaves on Blessing. I really liked him by the end
of this book.
	This is easily the best of the six Voyager novels. I look forward to
seeing more from this author and hope we get to see her work on screen
someday.

--Elizabeth Klisiewicz

	My first impression of the sixth book in the Voyager series was very good.
The cover is the best in the series thus far (especially for our gal Kate),
but the illusion for greatness was almost shattered in the first chapter. I
was going to toss the book across the room when I got to the word
"wormhole." My hair stood up, my blood pressure rose, and the $6 I paid for
the book suddenly became important. It's hard to get excited about the
adventure when you know that if it is a wormhole they will get home, and
that would be then end of the series!
	Christie Golden authors this latest paperback dedicated to the Voyager
series. She has brought her love of the Star Trek World to the pages of the
Murdered Sun. We can only hope that it is the first of many for the Voyager
crew. Golden truly brings the characters to life. For those of you still
recovering from Paris's adventures in the "Threshold," take heed!  Golden
manages to open the mind of Paris as never before. We grow along with him
as he accepts his alien friends despite their revolting appearances. Paris
has a heart. In this adventure he literally pilots on the seat of his
pants!
	Although Paris is the major character in this episode, a major sub-plot
involves Chakotay.  He discovers that the lifeforms on Veruna Four are very
similar to his people. They too have spiritual guides, but more importantly
they record their history verbally, and we all know how Chakotay loves
stories!
	Perhaps the most visual and "right-on-the-money" characterization is that
of our beloved Captain Janeway. Naturally Janeway is anxious to investigate
any possible shortcut home, but the crew encounters a solar system that is
being raped and plundered by the Akerians. The last thing Voyager needs is
to get caught up in someone else's war, but Janeway's desire to protect the
innocent inhabitants of Veruna Four involves the crew in a major
confrontation. In her attempts to remain neutral and true to the Federation
laws, Janeway comments, "I'm ready for a fair fight any day, but so far all
the Akerians have done is managed to get my Irish up." What more can she
say?
	The Murdered Sun is true to the integrity of Janeway. It is well worth the
money and time spent taking the journey. This particular adventure ends on
Captain's Log, Stardate 43897.1, and all I can ask is, when's the next log
entry? Christie Golden, where are you? We want more!

--Donna Wittwer

	Recently, Pocket Books released the sixth Voyager novel, The Murdered Sun
by Christie Golden. Its story is about Voyager's encounter of a spatial
anomaly (possibly a wormhole) in a red giant system, but the star's
chronological age indicates that it should not be a red giant yet. The
spatial phenomenon, a concavity, is responsible for the rapid aging of the
sun. Upon investigating this phenomenon, Voyager encounters the Verunans,
an alien race that inhabits the only M Class planet in this system, and the
warlike Akerians whose ships seem to be inside that concavity.
	The Verunans at first appear to be a pre-warp society. But it quickly
turns out that not only have they means of communication with people in
their system, but also ships that are able to travel between their word and
the concavity. It turns out that the Akerians hold a lot of Verunans as
slaves inside the concavity, and that the Verunans are trying to free their
comrades. Veha Nata, one of the Verunan leaders, asks Captain Janeway for
help. As the story develops, the reader is in for one or two surprises
about both the Verunans and Akerians!
	Golden's first Star Trek novel was what I'd expect from a good sci-fi
novel. Both alien species, the Verunans and the Akerians, are very well
developed, especially the spiritual Verunans. Golden beautifully combines
these alien races with our well-known characters. The relationship between
Chakotay and Veha Nata is one of the key things in this story, and so is
Tom Paris' relationship with one of the Verunan shuttle pilots. Captain
Janeway is more than once faced with the difficult decisions involving the
interpretation of the Prime Directive. The well-worked out details of the
story don't leave room for a so-called b-plot. But since this story goes
into the depth of so many people's thoughts, feelings, and the actions that
take place, such a b-plot would only desturb the main story line.
	It seems that the novels with the even numbers seem to do much better than
the ones with odd numbers (Caretaker not included). With The Escape and
Violations, The Murdered Sun is one of my favorite books so far!

--Marco Zehe


*KATHRYN JANEWAY, FEMINIST HEROINE*

AN ARGUMENT FOR THE MARRIAGE OF JANEWAY AND CHAKOTAY
By Peg Robinson

	Well, the debate rages on about whether to match Kathryn Janeway and
Chakotay in a romantic relationship or not. It would be easy to dismiss the
whole question as a tempest in a teapot, the romantic obsession of those of
us who like a little sugar with our action and adventure. It would be
equally easy to ignore it as an irrelevant secondary issue, given Voyager's
many other problems: weak plots, discontinuity, inadequately developed and
inconsistently presented characterization, and the chaos created by poorly
planned and thought-out development arcs. With problems like this to deal
with, why add in the question of Romance?
	I would argue that the issue is one of importance and relevance because in
its current unresolved and unavoidable state, it is causing many of the
other problems we're seeing on the show, and reinforcing or exaggerating
others. When examining any dramatic work, it is necessary to look at those
elements that should be present for the work to fulfill its desired
purpose--which are necessary to its intent, or inherently demanded by its
structure and symbolism. So, looking at Voyager, what are the unchangeable
elements, those things that must be present if the show is to succeed as a
satisfying work of art?
	To begin with, Voyager is a Star Trek property, designed to please a
particular audience. We like our action and adventure, we like a bit of
rough-and-tumble and conflict in the relationships we see each week...but
the majority of us are deeply infected with Roddenberry-esque yearnings for
optimism too. We want to believe that, even under extreme circumstances,
friendship will win out over enmity, understanding will stand victorious in
the face of confusion and conflict. We want to believe that leaders will be
ethical, understanding, compassionate, with rich personal lives.
Furthermore, Voyager has a particular need for such strong, integrated
command relationships. The writers have presented us with a premise in
which, exiled from the strengths and certainties of the Federation,
threatened from every side, with deep divisions among the crew, it is
necessary to present the commanders as working well enough with each other,
having a strong, vital relationship to make it plausible that, working in
concert, they will be able to lead their crew well enough to survive under
particularly difficult circumstances. If ever a ship needed a unified
command team to survive, or to be dramatically credible and emotionally
satisfying, Voyager is it.
	Even more compelling is the fact that the show is already structured and
justified by an inherent symbolic marriage. The professional marriage of
Janeway and Chakotay is what I would term the enabling symbol of the entire
show. Without the political bond they have formed, without the decision to
act as "co-parents" of Voyager, there would and could be no community for
the two to lead. To threaten the security of that central symbol, to
attempt to avoid or deny that relationship, is to threaten the very heart
of the show, denying the one central link which allows us to believe in the
strength and virtue of the community formed. If Janeway and Chakotay cannot
overcome their own difficulties as individuals and become friends, working
closely and amicably together to lead their people, there is no reason to
believe that the community formed on Voyager will ever be strong enough to
overcome the problems inherent in its situation. While this could be seen
as dramatic, I'm inclined to perceive it as depressing and
counter-productive, threatening the heart of what most of us want to see in
a Trek product.
	Of course, this symbol presents us with a bit of a problem. You see, if
the two central characters are of mixed gender, close in age, both
presumably heterosexual, mature and experienced, reasonably attractive--and
if they like each other, respect each other, work well together, if they
are already "professionally" married, if they are already "symbolically"
married--and if they are exiled at the back of beyond with virtually no
other sexual prospects in sight... well, you work it out. As long as
Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay are presented as a successful command team,
logic and symbol dictate that there will be a lot of us in the audience who
want to know why the poor fools haven'tfigured out that they are perfect
for each other, for the situation they are in, and for the symbolic
function they fulfill--why they aren't simply getting on with it.  For them
to fail to see the possibility is distracting. The relationship acts as a
huge magnet, warping the show out of its proper shape and demanding
fulfillment so that the writers can get on with telling other, less
romantic tales.
	Unfortunately TPTB don't see it that way. They have allowed themselves to
get tied in knots over the question of Janeway as a strong leader, and,
making some outrageous assumptions about what constitutes leadership, have
chosen to present her and her first officer in a number of ways that, far
from making them look strong, sane, and competent, have made them look at
best oddly inconsistent, at worst downright neurotic. Furthermore, in
trying to protect their perception of strength in command, they have
damaged the underlying strengths of the show they have created.
	First, they have attempted to deny or ignore the central symbolic
marriage, trying to ally Janeway with Tuvok rather than with Chakotay. This
is a dramatic error. No insult intended towards Tuvok, but Janeway has no
need of an alliance with Tuvok, or none beyond that implied by a reasonably
good professional relationship. For her to invest in her relationship with
Tuvok, rather than to pursue a close relationship on at least a
professional and friendly level with Chakotay, is a bad command decision.
With a divided crew, in the kinds of situations she's facing, she needs to
form a close relationship with her Maquis first officer more than any
single other thing right now. For her to fail to see that and work to
integrate her team makes her look stupid and politically naive. To quote
Chakotay in one of the early shows, "Bond with the man." It doesn't take an
administrative genius to see that the failure to cement that bond is
dangerous and ill conceived. But TPTB are reasonably worried that if we see
those two really getting along, we might wonder why there's no
romance...reasonably, because of course we would, at least some of us
would. But we would in any case, so in attempting to avoid integrating the
command team the writers have gained nothing, while losing ground by making
Janeway look a bit of a fool.
	They have further tried to avoid the issue of J&C by presenting us with
"the boy she left behind her" and her little holodeck trysts. I know there
are those who find Mark, and Janeway's implied loyalty to him, rather
touching and romantic, but I'm afraid I see this as one of the most
damaging things inflicted on the character. As a result of these two
developments, Janeway has come to look sexually neurotic and insecure,
happier in surrogate and convenience relationships than with real life
encounters that might challenge her or demand extended commitment from her.
This impression has been intensified by the fact that they have chosen to
have Janeway respond to any remotely threatening action on Chakotay's part
by drawing back, snapping, or making tight-lipped, Victorian spinster
faces. The number of times poor Kathryn has come across as the kind of
nervous, easily threatened old maid you find as comic or tragic accent in
old movies is scary. If she is a competent commander and a sexually mature
woman, a bit of flirt from her co-worker oughtn't reduce her to flustered
retreat... and a bit of disagreement from him should not make her go into
withdrawal. Competent, confident adults handle that sort of thing with good
natured tolerance or reasoned response...even with jest and return sallies.
They do not have anxiety attacks or act as snitty as the stereotypical
"broad on the rag."
	Again, TPTB, ever worried about Janeway's command presence and reluctant
to risk the possibility that the audience might see her as sexually
interested in her first officer, have chosen to damage the image of her
maturity and stability, rather than allow the two to function in adult
roles. They have also damaged the character of Chakotay, trying on the one
hand to show him as heroic, daring, humorous, clever... and on the other
hand tying him down in his professional function to a largely passive role,
or to the depressing role of being the guy who never quite gets it right,
and who needs to be "corrected" by dear Captain. This rings false,
particularly as it often appears clear that the character is being
manipulated in this way only to inflate Janeway's status. If Chakotay was
half the Maquis commander he is presented as having been, if he has any of
the personal strength and wisdom that is supposedly part of his character,
he should not be eternally relegated to the professional role of "yes-man"
and goof-up that seems to be his fate. Furthermore, to present him as
competent, and Janeway as seeing that competence, respecting it, and
putting it to good use, does not weaken her command presence, but instead
strengthens it. A good commander, particularly under the circumstances that
are presented in Voyager, is one who is able to adapt to new situations,
incorporate new ideas... and make the most of her command team.
Unfortunately, TPTB seem to think it would be better if Kathryn Janeway
were unable to adapt, unable to adjust...and unable to make good use of her
First Officer. She must rule in solitary splendor, or, in their opinion, we
fools in the audience won't perceive her as ruling at all. As a result of
this kind of thinking, Chakotay is being turned into a fool and a wuss, and
Janeway into the kind of nightmare nutter that we all used to dread getting
as a substitute teacher, or as an office manager. You know... the ones who
kept rulers for walloping folks, or who timed how long you were in the
bathroom? What a wonderful command team. Not.
	So, if the routes the PTB have taken to nullify the possibility of an
integrated command team, and, by direct extension, to remove the
possibility of a romance between the two central characters, are proving to
be pretty grim, what else could be done with the situation?
	Well, one could simply give in, and write the relationship as a Grand
Romance, with all the bells and whistles, and High-Opera style angst and
agony. Stolen kisses, passionate courtship, both of them agonizing over
each other's safety every time the phasers begin to sizzle. Like Paramount,
I must strongly recommend against such a choice. It doesn't allow the two
to operate as the competent command team the show needs them to be, it
makes the two look adolescent and immature, it denies the essential
action/adventure, morality play nature of a Star Trek series, and it is
distracting as hell. Furthermore, I wouldn't trust the writers not to trot
out every hackneyed, overused, miserable cliché in the books if they were
given the opportunity. So, in regards to J&C as high romance... let's not
and say we did. Sorry, I know that will be a disappointment to all you who
have been rather hoping for a good bodice-ripper in the star lanes, but I
can't say I think it would be anything but a disaster for the show to go
that route.
	The writers could simply abandon their attempts to deny the possibility of
a relationship, allow the two to function as a good and close command team,
and never pursue the romance, without ever explaining why they didn't. I'm
not wild about this option, but it has some things that recommend it. We
would no longer have to put up with the godawful attempts to warp the
characters in weird directions to ensure that they never be perceived as
potential mates, and to guarantee that Janeway never be doubted as anything
but a power-jealous tyrant. (I know they don't think that's what they're
presenting us with, but it looks worse and worse every week.) We would at
last have a command team that was allowed to work well as a team, and the
chance to see them behaving in human ways towards each other. That would be
nice; I would like that very much. But it wouldn't eliminate the little
problem of the fact that the potential for a relationship would still be
there, lean and hungry and begging for attention, and it wouldn't allow the
characters to achieve parity with their symbolic function as "Mother and
Father" of Voyager. So, while this route would be tolerable, it isn't the
one I'd choose.
	The final choice, as I see it, is the optimal one. Allow them to work well
and closely as a professional team, allow them to be friends, allow them to
be attracted to each other in a quiet, contented way...then run them
through one of the fastest, least dramatic courtships in television
history, get them married... and from that moment on play them as a happy,
well-adjusted couple. This has a lot of advantages. It allows the
characters an unproblematic sex life, without drowning us in obsession,
neurosis, angst, idiotic plotlines, denial, etc., etc., etc., ad nauseam.
In other words, we'd be spared every hokey, overworked episode where some
poor guest star falls in love with one of the leads, then either betrays
them, stays behind, or dies tragically. For this alone the idea would
recommend itself. If I never have to see Janeway or Chakotay staring
woefully out a viewscreen, murmuring 'Ah, but 'tis better to have loved and
lost..." I will be delighted. The question of what is wrong with two people
that they don't see the possibility of a relationship is out of the way
forever. They could, they did, they got married, case closed. Very
effective. It allows the two to achieve parity with their symbolic
function. It gets us out of endless rounds of character destruction as the
writers try to find credible ways to keep the two apart. It allows us to
see them functioning on all levels as a competent adult team. If the
writers have a gray cell still active, and they continue to present
Chakotay as content with Janeway's role as Captain, they actually
strengthen both characters. Better still, marriages play differently than
"romances". Within a marriage there is a lot of safe space for
disagreement, debate, growth, for examination of shared issues, comment on
reality. A marriage is a splendid storyteller's device because it is
resolved, and within that resolution there is room for the characters to
look out from the security of an established relationship, rather than
obsessively looking in at the complexities and confusions of an unresolved
relationship. A debate between Janeway and Chakotay , in the privacy and
security of their own quarters, about any issue likely to be presented on
Voyager, is far more likely to be interesting, intimate, dramatic and
personal than are an infinite number of "ready room discussions" or
"briefing table meetings." Dialogue between two friends or lovers is much
more dynamic than between two isolated, professionally hobbled officers.
	So, there it is... my argument for the marriage of J&C. It would solve a
problem that has become an increasing liability on a show that can't afford
any more liabilities than it has...a show that can't afford the stresses
and damage being caused by the current policy of avoiding and evading the
issue. So, my vote is in: get it over with, get it out of the way, sort
those two out... and for heaven's sake get on with the far more important
job of telling us stories about the "Voyager" and her crew in the Delta
Quadrant, using the two command officers as a strong and stable team,
fulfilled in their professional function, and useful in their symbolic and
"story telling" function. Thus endeth the sermon of the day.

THE J/C RANT, A COMMAND PERFORMANCE
by Diane Nichols

	Janeway and Chakotay. We've been talking about it, some of us, ever since
"Caretaker." We speculate, we imagine, we write alternate universe
scenarios, but what is it about them that causes so many of us, myself
included, to hope? I was gripped immediately, just as Janeway and Chakotay
were. The dire situation, the melding of the crews, the continuing problems
they have to face together, all of these things have meant that Voyager's
captain and first officer have of necessity been forced to develop a close
relationship. They bonded instantly and in mutual respect, that was
blatantly obvious. In spite of recent events in which they have sometimes
come down on opposite sides of an issue, can anyone really doubt that they
trust each other completely, or that together they are much stronger than
they would be alone? Watch Janeway's face sometime when a crisis erupts.
Her eyes inevitably fly to Chakotay, though not for reassurance or
guidance, of course; we know that her experience and competent leadership
equips her to handle anything the Delta Quadrant can throw at her. So, what
does she need from him? Why all those quick looks, which he instantly
returns? Because they're a team, and they know it--and watching them, we
know it, too. It's their relationship that makes the show work. Granted,
they're going through tough times, but anyone in a real-life relationship
can tell you that hardship and dissent will either destroy it, or make it
stronger. Will this one survive? Well, can you imagine Janeway without
Chakotay, either of them without the other? Of course you can't--their
relationship will only be enhanced by the strife they're currently
encountering.
	And, oh, that relationship...! Perhaps a romance isn't in the cards. There
are certainly valid objections to such an idea. There's the fear that it
could invalidate Janeway's captaincy, and the unbending protocol which
would stand in their way. Reasonable objections, yes, but are they valid?
So far with the show, we've been witness to a wonderfully adult phenomenon,
a woman captain with a male first officer who is completely supportive of
her and totally nonthreatened by her, and vice versa. Chakotay's devotion
to Janeway and commitment to the challenge she offered him, to help her
bring their crews safely home, shines from his eyes every time he looks at
her. Whether intentional or not, the two characters gravitate toward each
other in every scene, and there's a chemistry between them which exists
whether it was planned or not. Maybe the logical next step, mutual
acknowledgement of the bond between them, will never happen. But could it?
Should it?
 	Why not? What exhilarates me personally about this show is that it's Trek
with a difference. Always before, we've seen confident Starfleet officers
in their element, secure and powerful, knowing that any problems they might
have can and will be solved because Starfleet itself is such a secure,
powerful entity, able to take on any threat and overcome it. With Voyager,
that security is gone, and it has meant that it's not Starfleet, but the
characters themselves, which have become of primary importance. If they
succeed, it will be because of who they are, not what organization is
backing them. They're literally lost in space, and if they are able to make
their way back to Federation space, it will be because they have done it
themselves, together. The entire crew will bond more deeply than any other
starship crew--they have to. They will also have more conflicts, of course,
because that ship is their entire universe. And, inevitably, as time passes
and the reality of their situation strikes them, they will begin to bend
and change those rules that no longer apply. All of this is unexplored
territory for Star Trek. It makes some fans nervous--already we're reading
on the Internet that it's time to bring Voyager home--but for me, the
challenge of so much new material is a welcome change from past shows. The
Voyager writers can really break new ground if they stick with the story
line and continue to stretch the boundaries which have been imposed on them
by previous generations of Trek writers. Why can't they take that last
plunge, and show us an adult, committed relationship between two characters
who obviously are drawn to each other? In a way, it could be seen as the
logical extension of some of the great Trek friendships--Kirk and Spock,
taken to the next level. It need not even be explicitly sexual, when you
think of it that way, since sex is just the window-dressing of an adult
relationship. Janeway needs Chakotay. She has acknowledged that fact from
the very beginning. She relies on him, and he gives her his unwavering
support. Even at the end of "Maneuvers", when we see that he's not sorry
that he rode off like a cowboy, we also see that his one regret is what his
actions did to Janeway. What I love about this captain of ours is that
she's comfortable with herself, and that she doesn't find it necessary to
pretend to be a man. For her to rely on Chakotay, to acknowledge him as an
equal partner, does not at all diminish her stature, it simply shows us how
complete a person she is. She has begun to admit to herself that her
personal needs are not being met, and she is obviously worried about that
at this point, enough to take on that holonovel of hers--why not enough to
begin to build a personal relationship with the one man on the ship whose
character complements and amplifies her own?
 	The Voyager writers have the chance right now to portray a real,
developing personal relationship, something which Trek has never seemed
very comfortable with. I will mention only briefly and in passing that it
would also be wonderful to see the attractive woman over 40 get the man for
a change, an argument which holds more appeal for me with every passing
year! Those things are actually peripheral to my argument, which is that
relationships of every kind are of vital importance to this show. Without
the external interest provided by Klingon politics, Cardassian military
strategies, or the threat of the Borg, Voyager becomes a show about people
rather than races or species.We need to care about those people, and
believe in them, or it isn't going to matter whether they make it back to
the Alpha Quadrant or not. And what better way to make us care about them
than to show Janeway and Chakotay caring about each other?

STAR TREK'S PRINCIPLES AND THE MAQUIS WAY
by Michelle Erica Green

	I've decided to come out of the closet about something. I don't like the
Maquis. Wait--don't throw that! I didn't mean that I don't like Chakotay,
or Torres, or Ro Laren, or Tom Riker, or even that I don't agree with
Maquis sympathizers who believe that the Federation leaders acted
irresponsibly and cruelly when they abandoned the citizens in the
Demilitarized Zone. I mean that I don't like what the Maquis has become for
Star Trek--particularly not forVoyager.
	I reached this conclusion while trying to write an editorial on the Prime
Directive, the current bane of Maquis existence on Voyager. Admittedly,
Captain Janeway's application of the rule has been contradictory. She got
her crew stranded in the Delta Quadrant by destroying the Array, a
violation of the PD even by Kirk's standards--and something a Maquis would
do, to save the lives of thousands of people by getting involved--yet she
refused to take Sikarian trajector technology though it was offered by a
Sikarian. Then she let Seska yank the ship's strings, got irked at Chakotay
for wanting to forge an alliance with some locals, and threatened to blow
up the ship before sharing technology...but later she wanted to stabilize
the region by working with the Trabe. OK, Janeway's been less than
consistent in her application of the Federation's highest principle. But so
was Picard, who was willing to let an entire planet die in "Homeward" yet
chose to save the one in "Pen Pals." And Kirk...well, go watch "Return of
the Archons" and "A Piece of the Action" and explain to me why he kept
winning honors from the Federation.
	The Prime Directive is a problem. Whenever I've decided that it's a form
of imperialism, like the Vietnam allegory in "A Private Little War," I
consider all the atrocities our world turns away from--the Holocaust, child
slavery in Thailand, the slaughter of Muslims in Bosnia--and I'm not so
sure that I disagree with the idea of intervention. If I stumbled upon a
scene where a woman was about to be burned suttee-style according to local
custom, I'd try to stop it, the same way I try to stop parents from
whacking their kids senseless in stores. Principles sound great until one
has to witness their consequences. Star Trek episodes about the Prime
Directive get their tension from the conflict between abstract ideals and
concrete solutions. The practical solutions which individual officers have
worked out do not fit perfectly with Federation ideology, but watching the
struggle is itself enlightening; we want Trek to do a better job with such
dilemmas than our politicians do. That's why Star Trek needs such
principles, and also why its characters have to have the courage to
challenge them. Janeway's compassion has led her to interfere on moral
grounds, to save the Ocampa from extinction and to try to bring peace to an
entire quadrant. If she resembles Kirk more than Picard at times, it's
important to note that she has consistently refused to break the Prime
Directive for selfish reasons such as getting home quickly or gaining
allies. It's too simple to call Janeway sanctimonious. Her speech at the
end of "Alliances" may have been reductive and redundant, but her reasoning
was sound.
	The original idea behind the Maquis was a challenge to Starfleet and its
highfalutin' principles: it's all well and good to sign treaties and
declare that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, quite a
different matter when the minority is trampled by those dictates and one
witnesses the carnage firsthand. Most of the Maquis we saw on TNG and DS9
were former Starfleet officers who had serious ideological conflicts with
the Federation: they believed that the peace treaty with Cardassia violated
their rights or the rights of others. This could have made for fascinating
tension on Voyager: Janeway insisting that a Federation vessel can't
interfere in local conflicts, her Maquis officers insisting on their moral
duty to prevent atrocities. But those aren't the sort of Maquis onVoyager.
As the Doctor tells us, Chakotay's former crew suffers from excess
adrenaline, not excess ideology. Paris joined, by his own admission, to
fight and to drink. Torres joined because she was fed up with Starfleet
restrictions. Dalby joined to bash skulls over an incident on Bajor which,
while appalling, did not necessarily justify either the wholesale slaughter
of Cardassians nor disregard for the Federation. And Suder, murderer and
psychopath, joined to kill--as he said, he never particularly liked
Starfleet, but he thought about murdering Maquis members, too. I can't say
I was happy with the Doctor's assessment that the Maquis are genetically
and hormonally predisposed to aggression and anger regardless of cause, but
it sure had a ring of truth.
	The Maquis we saw on Voyager last season at least had legitimate problems
with Starfleet. They lacked the training of Starfleet officers, they were
forced to accept positions on the ship, they had no reason to be loyal to
the Federation. Janeway went out of her way to earn their trust--the trust
of all the crew--by running the ship as democratically as we've ever seen a
Starfleet vessel. She took advice from Ensign Kim, she asked input from the
crew at Sikarius and didn't even seriously censure her would-be-mutineers,
she let the crew decide whether to leave when they encountered a planet
people might have wanted to settle on. If the less-trained Maquis have been
treated to a double standard, they've also been accorded the same
privileges as the rest of the crew, with a lot of room to grow and adapt to
the situation.
	But now the Maquis are looking increasingly like rebels without a cause.
Dalby and his ilk should not be typical, especially in a group commanded by
a former Starfleet officer, but they're all we've seen so far. And I'm not
sure what to say about Chakotay. Last season he was a spiritual man with
very deep convictions, who joined the Maquis to defend his people. This
season we've learned that he only began to value his heritage when his
father was killed, and that he has an independent streak willing to toss
aside principles and protocol without regard for the long-term
consequences. He's looking more like his Maquis peers every day, and I'm
not a bit impressed.
	It's been more than a little annoying this season to see Maquis anger
suddenly dredged up as one more obstacle for Janeway to overcome. I
understand that at this point in the journey, after some deaths and
damages, a few crewmembers mightwonder what sorts of options the captain
is considering. There's no reason that it should be only Maquis; I'd think
that the lower-level officers, regardless of their background, would be
getting scared and frustrated and doubting everything about the mission.
That's not a Maquis issue, that's a hierarchy issue. And it has very little
to do with principles. To find abruptly that many of the Maquis crewmembers
have been harboring grudges against Janeway--yet not Chakotay and Torres,
who have been complicit in the major decisions--seems ludicrous.
	Frankly, if I were Maquis, I'd think Chakotay was an idiot. First he let
both Federation and Cardassian spies on his Maquis ship, then he agreed to
an alliance with a Federation captain under who knows what terms--we
certainly don't know. Then, after capitulating to every decision she made
for months, he went flying off on a grudge mission to settle a score with
his ex-lover in the name of retaining Federation technology. He took a
psychopathic murderer whom even he didn't trust onto his ship. These do not
inspire confidence in his ability to command. If he was successful as a
Maquis leader, I assume it was because the cause they were serving bound
his people together, the same way the Prime Directive binds Starfleet
officers together. Chakotay knows the Kazon better than anyone, after being
with Kar and Kulluh; he should have realized that they were never going to
accept outside allies as peers, and would exploit every opportunity to take
advantage of them. And he trusted the Trabe, who sounded just like the
Cardassians negotiating for the DMZ.  I'm not impressed with him this
season on any level: not as an officer, not as a person.
	So to have Chakotay tell Janeway to start "thinking like a Maquis," to
compromise her values for a short-term fix, makes no sense, and to have her
listen makes even less. There is no such thing as thinking like a Maquis,
at least not one that has been established on the show beyond Dalby's
rebellious definition of "the Maquis way." The scene in which Chakotay
asked Janeway to follow that way ended with him stalking out of her ready
room, despite the fact that she was listening to him, using him as a
sounding board which is part of his job as first officer. He sounded to me
like a terrorist asking an Israeli leader to use P.L.O. tactics to solve a
problem; even if the scheme made sense, the wording of the suggestion would
surely get it rejected. I'm hoping that what he meant was that he hoped
she'd start thinking outside the rigid rules she's accepted as necessary
for stability in the Alpha Quadrant, but then he should have said so. If
thinking like a Maquis means what it has meant so far on the series--being
opportunistic, protecting one's own best interests at the expense of
others--that's just the sort of thinking which should be appalling to a man
who supposedly underwent severe hardship to uphold his principles. If
Chakotay's Maquis are just going to appeal to rebels who want to bash
authority, if they don't have ideals and intelligence, they'll remain dull
as characters and useless as catalysts on the show.
	So it's miserable watching Janeway capitulate to Chakotay's whims in the
name of crew unity. Her principles hold the crew together, and if she loses
them, she has no basis for command. That moralizing speech to her upstart
crewmembers should really have been directed at herself for bending to
opportunism so quickly. If this crew does not stand together on principle,
they're not going to stand at all. Janeway's accepting the idea of an
alliance--which she might have been able to rationalize within the Prime
Directive, but we never got to hear her try--was the biggest show of
weakness we've seen from her. This isn't infinite diversity in infinite
combinations, it's letting the lowest common denominator have its way.
	If Voyager continues to follow the dictates of its malcontents, we're
going to watch infighting and factionalization continue to eat at the trust
among the people on the ship, we're going to watch selfish concerns replace
common goals, we're going to watch crewmembers try to replace Janeway with
Chakotay and then him with someone else when he can't solve all their
problems. The Voyager episodes I've liked best--"The Cloud," "The 37s,"
"Eye of the Needle"--have all dealt with the bond which is forming among
all the crew, the idea that they're all in this together, they're a
community, just like the crews of the Enterprises and DS9, which also has a
complement split among Starfleet and non-Starfleet officers. Voyager's
internal problems should be like those of a family, one which can't afford
to buckle under internal stress when everyone else on the block is rooting
for them to fall apart. If Voyager needs the Maquis, it's as a
counterbalance to the stodgy ways of the elders, as an integral part of the
Starfleet mission--not as the brats of the family. The Maquis may have
different interests and values, but not goals.
	Kate Mulgrew said some really wonderful things at the beginning of this
season about what she hoped we'd be seeing on Voyager. She said she thought
that this would be the period when the crew would decide that, since
they're lost together with little chance of getting home, they should grow
and learn and explore together, loosen up the protocol, change the
dynamics. In a nutshell, Kate summarized the spirit of Star Trek--and she
wasn't even a Trekkie before she got the part of Janeway. But Voyager isn't
doing any of those things. Instead they're turning into a dark, bleak show
where internal and external menace threatens the crew at every turn, where
people are tense and mierable and retreating into their shells. Right now,
Voyager is not Star Trek, which has always been about growing and learning
and exploring, the needs of the many juggling the needs of the few not
through oppression, but by bringing people into the fold.
	I feel for the Maquis in the Alpha Quadrant, but I never forget that the
treaty Picard set up was to prevent a war which could have killed millions.
As for the Maquis in the Delta Quadrant, I'm sympathetic for their desire
for a stronger voice on the ship and freedom from Starfleet strictures, but
not sympathetic enough to sacrifice Voyager to them on any level. Sure,
there are people in any organization who are bad eggs, but Trek's had
little time for them, and Voyager has no hope of survival if they continue
to dominate. Get them in line or get them off the ship, without bringing
Janeway and crew down with them.


*COPYRIGHT VIOLATION CORNER*

[A lot of you probably know Laura's stories from the net, and those of you
who don't are going to wish you did. This story's pretty heavily J/C; if
that's going to bother you, the loss will be yours.  The usual disclaimers
apply.]

SNOWBLIND
by Laura Williams

	On the third day she watered his plants.
	She could not identify the impulse that had prompted her to enter his
quarters while he was gone, but an hour after the briefing she found
herself striding past his door as if it weren't even there, as if it didn't
matter to her. She forced herself to slow down, stop. She walked
differently without him, she'd noticed it on the second day. The easy
stroll was gone, the casual glance up and to her left to see that he was
there, the tilt of her head to make sure she didn't miss a word of whatever
suggestion he was making or story he was telling. She was back to the old
gait, the one he'd once called the Starfleet Strut -- quick and purposeful,
eyes staring forward at nothing, mind a thousand light years away. He'd
asked her to slow down, look around, walk through the moments as she lived
them rather than running from place to place. He hadn't asked for anything
unreasonable, just that she stop contemplating the future from time to
time, stop analyzing the past and take in the present, see where she was
and appreciate the now before it passed away forever. It was where he
walked, in the now, in the moment. Sometimes she could see his past
stretching out behind him like a tapestry, patches of light and shadow that
wove him into the man he was. Sometimes she turned to look into his eyes
and could see the sparkle there as he anticipated the bright thread of his
future. But the now, that was where he walked, every sense attuned to the
time at hand and the scenes passing by. Fascinated, she had finally
relented, slowed to walk beside him through the corridors, through the
moments.
	That was all gone now, and so suddenly that it startled her. Without him
there the easy stroll felt clumsy, purposeless. She was off-balance, she
realized, the sparkle was missing, the fascination, the quiet warmth in his
voice as he provided a running commentary to their walking, proclaiming
wonder in the ordinary and sacredness in the everyday. She sped up and
returned to her old walk, the one from before, but even that felt wrong now
-- too fast, too unconcerned, too lonely. Her mind shot ahead to the
future, but she pulled away from it. It was too much to contemplate, the
days stretching ahead, long and empty like the last three had been. And the
past -- she could not think of it objectively, not yet. And so on the
evening of the third day when she found herself sailing past his door, she
stopped, caught in the moment, in the now. He would have laughed at her,
shaking his head at her unaccustomed awkwardness.
	She keyed in the override combination and slipped into his quarters
hesitantly. She'd been there with him on numerous occasions; she'd even
been there alone once, a time long past when he'd been ill and asked her to
retrieve his medicine bundle. Then, she'd had a purpose, a valid reason for
being there. Now she had none, just a vague feeling that there was
something she needed to do. She did not consider that she was intruding; he
was not there and had not been for three days. Hadn't been at dinner for
three days, hadn't played pool with her at Sandrine's, hadn't sat beside
her on the Bridge. She did not allow herself to wonder when he'd be there
again, or if he ever would.
	The room was dark and quiet, but in addition to the ghostly emptiness she
had expected, there was life, lurking somewhere just beneath the silence.
The idea amused her; it was the way she often thought of him, dark and
quiet, but always with a glint of warm humor in his eyes, a smile in his
voice. Alive and intense, maybe even passionate, somewhere just beyond the
calm impassivity he showed the world. She glanced slowly around the room,
remembering the last time she'd been there with him. A quick chat after
Sandrine's and before they'd both turned in for the night, she standing in
the doorway, only half in the room, he standing near the windows, a smile
shining from his eyes even though his lips were still. "Anything else I can
do for you this evening, Captain?"
	She'd started suddenly, caught staring at his shape silhouetted in the
starlight. "I don't think so, Commander. See you on the Bridge."
	He took a step toward her, frowning a little. "Aren't we meeting for
breakfast? Neelix is making us a loggerhead omelet, remember?"
	She had laughed and promised to meet him at 0700 for breakfast. She had
not kept her promise.
	Her eyes fell on the bed, left unmade. She'd called him to duty an hour
early to join an away team, an hour before they were to meet Neelix in the
galley. She would have gone to breakfast alone, but she'd decided to save
the special occasion for a time when they could share it. And the
circumstances of the ensuing hours had precluded her departure from the
Bridge anyway. She crossed slowly to the bed, shaking her head. "We never
did get to taste that omelet, did we, Chakotay?" There was no answer.
"Maybe someday we will..."
	She reached out and brushed her open palm across a pillow, still depressed
from the weight of his head, but long since cooled from the warmth of his
body. Without thinking she pulled up the sheets, tucking them carefully
under the mattress as she moved around the bed, then straightened out the
blanket over them, gently smoothing away the wrinkles. The blanket was soft
and thick, decorated with lines and circles and shapes she had seen in his
carvings, but in a pattern she did not recognize.She held the edge of it
between her fingers, puzzled by the feel of the coarse threads. It almost
felt handmade, and she wondered where on the ship he had hidden the loom.
Then she realized that he must have programmed the coarse weave into the
replicator. Chakotay was many things -- a sculptor, a painter, a poet --
but she doubted his artistry extended to weaving.
	Then again, she had never taken the time to ask. With a regretful sigh,
she dropped the edge of the blanket and turned away from the bed. A
half-empty teacup and a plate of breadcrumbs caught her eye and she smiled
to herself. So he had had a snack before he left, perhaps a quick bite
before they were to meet Neelix, just to make sure he wouldn't be forced to
eat too much of the dubious omelet. At least he had gotten something in his
stomach before the landing mission. A last meal before he disappeared.
	With a dismissive shake of her head she swiftly brushed the scattered
crumbs onto the plate and gathered it and the cup together. He would not
want to return to a messy room, she reasoned. The cold tea and breadcrumbs
she dumped into the refuse slot, the plate and cup she rinsed and set
aside. As an afterthought she refilled the cup with water and turned back
into the room.
	The sakra plant was dry and thirsty. She emptied the cup into the soil
surrounding its roots, gently pushing aside the stems and leaves. A few
stalks broke off in her hand; she placed them in the stone pot beside the
plant and lit them with a wick, remembering the many times she had watched
him perform the small ritual. The thought that she was forgetting something
crossed her mind, some sacred word or gesture, but then a familiar
fragrance filled the room and swept away her uneasiness. She breathed
deeply, recognizing the light, sweet scent. It was the smell of his uniform
in the morning before the ship's air stripped it away; it was the smell of
her hair in the evening after she left his quarters. The fragrant cloud
rose around her face and she closed her eyes, remembering. She seemed to
sense his presence, his voice in the room, his quiet laugh. If she turned
around she felt she would see him sitting on the edge of the bed or
standing near the windows, smiling at her, teasing her gently for giving in
to her imagination. She leaned forward and placed her hands flat on the
table, surprised to find that they were trembling. With an effort she
turned to look behind her, irrationally afraid that he might really be
there, or that he might not.
	He was not. She refilled the cup, mentally chiding herself for the moment
of weakness.
	She moved slowly around the room, watering his many plants, examining the
textures of their leaves and stems with her fingers. She recognized only a
few of them -- the sakra plant he kept for incense, a small tree with round
green leaves, the seeds of which he collected and dried for late-night
snacks, the flowering cactus he had cultivated early in their journey. The
rest of them were unfamiliar to her; she supposed that he had been
gathering seedlings all the time they had been traveling through the Delta
Quadrant, turning his rooms into a garden, a constant reminder of the
places they had visited. He habitually gathered rocks and sand and
occasional pieces of wood; the many textures and colors of his collections
fascinated her. There were no natural reminders here of his own world,
beyond the scant items secured safely in his medicine bundle. And so, in
the absence of his past and the uncertainty of his future, he had chosen to
dwell in the now, filling his rooms with the many worlds he had seen,
creating his own world with the stones and plants and soil he had
collected.
	She returned to the sakra plant and added a few more of its slender stalks
to the incense pot, letting the fragrance fill and warm her. The little
plant, dry though it was after two days' neglect, obviously flourished in
Chakotay's room. She passed her fingertips over it, imagining his hand
repeating the same gesture, and smiled. "Do you talk to your plants,
Chakotay? I wonder..." She laughedquietly, but stopped at an unexpected
echo. Again she felt the odd sensation that he was in the room with her.
She whirled around, half expecting to see him disappear into the bathroom
or duck behind the screen. She felt she would find him there, if only she
knew the right place to look -- the closet, perhaps, or somewhere less
obvious...
	She was halfway across the room, lowering herself to peer under the bed,
before she fully realized it. The sound of her own harsh laugh filled the
room. "Damn," she muttered, shaking her head ruefully. "Now he's got me
hunting for spirits." She cocked her head to one side, listening for a
laugh that did not come. As she rose, she pulled the blanket off the bed
and wrapped herself in it, intending to sit and rest for a moment only
before she returned to the bridge and to the seemingly endless waiting. She
sank into his chair with a soft sigh.
	Twelve hours, she'd told them at the briefing. Twelve more hours and
they'd have to call off the search and resume their journey without their
first officer. Their faces had shown disbelief -- Harry's mouth open with
shock, Tom's cheeks slowly reddening as his eyes closed, B'Elanna leaning
her forehead in her hands. Even Tuvok had been surprised, raising an
eyebrow at her and asking how she had arrived at this decision. She
couldn't justify it, she said, couldn't justify four or five or ten days
merely hanging in space, hovering over the last place they had sensed his
presence. Tom had spread his hands on the table. "But Captain," he'd said,
"what's four or five days out of a journey that could last seventy years?"
	She'd shaken her head and turned away from the hurt in his eyes, in all
their eyes. "What if we don't find him in ten days, Paris? What if we stay
for a month and we still don't find him? A year? How long do we stay before
we finally decide we've stayed long enough?" There was silence in the room.
"Are there any other comments?"
	She should have expected B'Elanna's voice then, but it still cut through
her, the voice and the words. "You realize, Captain, that if we leave
without finding him, you've essentially given him up for dead."
	"I know that, B'Elanna," she'd whispered. "Twelve hours. Dismissed."
They'd filed out of the room slowly, silently, leaving her standing alone,
holding her own arms for comfort.
	She'd spent an hour in the conference room, going over all their search
methods, sensor logs, transporter patterns, tracking data, everything they
could think of to locate their missing officer. Nothing. She replayed his
last voice communication with the ship over and over, just a routine
request that Harry beam up the rest of the landing party, there was one
last thing he wanted to check out...
	Then silence. Not another word, no sensor trace of him, no comm signal, no
biological impression to track. On the second day she'd even gone down
herself to search for him with her own eyes, but there was nothing. Three
days of nothing, no clues, no hopes.
	Twelve hours. No, less than eleven hours left now. She'd rest for a few
more moments and then redouble her efforts for the scant time remaining,
even though she'd barely slept since his disappearance. Just a few minutes
to clear her head and gather her thoughts in this room where she felt his
presence, where she could imagine he would return shortly -- he was only on
a brief trip and would soon come back, full of enthusiasm for the things
he'd seen, the familiar smile on his lips. She closed her eyes.
	When the night of the third day dragged on and stretched into the morning
of the fourth, she was still sitting in his chair, wrapped in his blanket,
sound asleep.

	When she awoke the world was white.
	Her universe had narrowed to the room -- the bed, the chair where she sat
stiffly, the lingering scent of sakra and the echo of a forgotten laugh.
There seemed to be nothing beyond, nothing outside the window or even on
the other side of the door. And all was white; the walls, the floor, the
ceiling, unyielding brightness that shut out all color, all form. Even the
pattern had fallen away from the blanket, leaving her wrapped in a coarse
white cloth that gave her no warmth.
	She called out to the computer to lower the lights but the white remained,
unbroken and blinding. She blinked hard, once, twice. It was her eyes, it
had to be. She closed them against the whiteness, the lack of feature or
color. A shiver ran up her spine. It was suddenly cold in the room, as if
an unexpected wind had burst through a crack in the wall, lifting her hair
and scattering the sakra ashes in a tiny whirlwind. A prolonged howl
reached her ears from far away -- but perhaps it was in the next room, or
only in her own mind.
	Then all was quiet again, so quiet she could hear her own loud breathing,
almost panting. She was reminded of a time, long since gone, when she'd sat
outside during a winter storm and listened to the sounds of birds and
animals and wind. But the wind had died suddenly and she'd closed her eyes
at a strange new sound, soft as a whisper, the almost silent music of tiny
frozen crystals falling on fresh snow. Ice formed on her shoulders while
she listened, shivering with the cold, but fascinated by the sounds and the
wintry dampness and the leafless trees stretching into the gathering
darkness, each thin branch encased in shimmering ice. She had paid dearly
for the experience with a lingering chill that lasted for days, but it had
been worth it to see a dying tree, its icy silhouette illuminated by the
rising moon, glowing white against the black night sky.
	Now she closed her eyes against the ghostly whiteness, longing for form
and feature. She gathered the blanket around her shoulders and took a deep
breath, willing the chill away from her bones. It was all an illusion, a
trick of the eye, the product of fear and worry and lack of sleep. When she
looked up again the room had returned to its normal state, full of color
and form.
	She sat still for a moment, disoriented. This was not her room, not her
chair, not her blanket. She stared down at the tapestry, wrapped tightly
around her. The lines and shapes slowly coalesced into a pattern that was
not completely familiar, but was at least recognizable. She grasped the
edge of the blanket in her fist and remembered.
	"Computer," she barked. "What time is it?" *The time is 0638 hours.*
"Damn." She threw the blanket off and bolted from the room.
	Inexcusable. She must have gone to sleep in Chakotay's quarters, letting
almost seven hours slip by without contributing anything to the search.
She'd never meant to stay more than a moment, she'd only intended to -- to
what? Make his bed? Straighten his room? She shook her head at herself. Had
she spent half the night wrapped in his blanket just because she'd wanted
to water his plants?
	She ducked into her quarters and spent 15 minutes, which her mind told her
represented roughly 1/20 of the time left, wolfing down a makeshift
breakfast and tidying herself for the day. When she arrived on the bridge
she was not surprised to find the Alpha crew on deck, though she did not
know whether they had returned early or stayed at their posts through the
night. She did not ask.
	She confronted Tuvok first, demanding to know why he had not awakened her
to resume the search hours before. "Mister Kim, Ms Torres, Mister Paris and
I continued our work without you, Captain," he replied quietly. "We
reasoned that you required rest."
	"And you didn't?"
	The Vulcan's eyes darted away from her and back. "Captain, I -- "
	Tom Paris stepped toward her. "It's my fault, Captain. Tuvok wanted to
wake you up, but Kes said you probably needed the sleep even more than the
rest of us. She said you hadn't slept at all since Chakotay disappeared."
	"I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Mr. Paris, but in the future -- "
	Harry Kim cleared his throat. "It's my fault, too, Captain. I tried to
find you, but when I realized where you were, I -- "
	"Harry!" Torres hissed from across the bridge. Janeway turned on her and
she blanched a little, backed toward her station. "We just thought,
Captain, that -- "
	Janeway looked from one face to the next, taking in their expressions --
Harry young and still hopeful, Tom quietly intense, B'Elanna worried for
her friends, both present and absent. Tuvok's face was calm, but she saw
the concern lurking behind even his impassivity. She shook her head slowly
and looked away for a moment, composing her features. "I don't want to
leave him behind, either," she said softly. "Let's get back to work."
	Less than four hours left.
	They went by too quickly.
	With each passing minute, ticked off automatically and infuriatingly in
her head, they all grew more desperate, more tense with each other, brittle
branches ready to snap. She sat in the middle of them, holding them
together as best she could, all the while keenly aware of the empty chair
beside her. She could not look at it.
	When the time came to give the order she stood up, arms folded across her
belly. Her officers settled into silence, waiting.
	"Mister Paris?"
	He did not turn. "Yes ma'am?"
	She cleared her throat. "Prepare to leave orbit. Resume our primary
course, warp two."
	His shoulders slumped even as his hands moved to carry out her orders.
"Yes ma'am."
	The deck rumbled lightly beneath her feet and the view of the stars ahead
shifted and blurred. She waited for them to clear but they did not; the
thought crossed her mind that something must be wrong, for some reason they
hadn't made the jump into subspace. She started to ask B'Elanna what the
problem might be, but when she blinked the view cleared suddenly, then
blurred again. Another blink and again the starfield cleared and blurred.
Her breath caught in her throat.
	"Tuvok, you have the conn," she rasped, and started to bolt from the
bridge. "I'll be in my Ready Room..."
	B'Elanna's voice stopped her in the doorway. "Captain? We will be having a
memorial service for Chakotay, won't we?"
	She turned back sharply, not trusting herself to speak, desperate to leave
the bridge and the pairs of eyes fixed on her -- not accusing now, but
sympathetic. She nodded slowly at B'Elanna, at them all, and fled into the
privacy of her office where she slid into a corner of the couch, staring
ahead at nothing. She sat immobile for a long moment, refusing to think,
refusing to feel, unable to confront the fact that when she returned to the
bridge Chakotay would not be there.
	He was gone.Gone for good now, and she had given the order that had left
him behind. She alone had made the decision.
	Three days they'd searched, almost four. She went over the time again,
trying to account for each hour she'd actually contributed to the search,
each hour she'd let pass away lost in thought, wishing he'd come back and
worrying that he was in danger somewhere, or worse.
	Damn. She rubbed her forehead absently. Three days they'd searched, and
she'd spent a significant portion of it wallowing in emotion --
rediscovering the way she walked without him, wondering who she would have
dinner with every night, making his bed. Watering his damn plants. If she'd
spent more time helping with the search, then maybe...
	No, her people knew their business, they were as anxious to return
Chakotay to the ship as she was. Her fears might only have hindered the
process, her constant hovering might have caused them to become tense and
careless. She'd sensed resentment from them at first, particularly after
she'd declared the deadline. But this morning the resentment was gone,
replaced by resignation and despair.
	And worry. She'd heard it in Tom's voice as he explained why they hadn't
awakened her, she'd seen it in Harry's eyes when he mentioned he knew where
she'd spent the night. Worry for her, she guessed, worry that she would
miss him, that she wanted him back even more than they, that she would be
lost without him.
	But she'd lost officers before, good ones, and recently -- Cavit, Durst,
Kyoto. Each time it had gotten a little harder, especially out here where
there was very little hope of ever notifying the families who waited for
them back home. Each time she'd signed the certificate of death with silent
grief and scheduled a time for a memorial service, leaving the details to
the discretion of the deceased's closest friends and the spiritual guidance
of her first officer.
	She closed her eyes briefly. B'Elanna was probably Chakotay's closest
shipboard friend, but the engineer was unlikely to volunteer to handle the
details of a memorial service. And spiritual guidance... Always Chakotay's
realm before, and he'd handled the responsibility with gravity and dignity.
Likely she would have to fill that role herself now; she would have to
organize the service on her own.
	She didn't even have a body. The thought of signing a certificate of death
without ever having seen his cold remains filled her with dread. Because it
was possible, however remotely, that he wasn't dead at all, that she was
leaving him behind forever, trapped in the Delta Quadrant with absolutely
no hope of ever returning to his home and family, or even to the ship where
he was so desperately missed. In a day or two, maybe a week, he'd realize
what she'd done and resent her for the rest of his life...
	Janeway shook her head sharply. No, he was dead. He had to be. She could
not admit the possibility that he was still alive and that, somehow, they
had simply failed to find him. She could not be the one who had stranded
him forever. She crossed to her desk and pulled out a data padd. A memorial
service for Chakotay would have to include his spirituality -- perhaps she
would retrieve his medicine bundle and blanket, maybe some of his plants.
Music, surely, if she could find something appropriately subdued but at the
same time indicative of his spirit, his calm self-assuredness and quirky
humor. And in the absence of a body, she would need a picture of him...
	She flipped open her desktop computer and keyed in a series of commands,
searching for any suitable picture. The computer sat and thought for a
moment, then presented a full head-and- shoulders picture of him, out of
uniform and frowning deeply at someone or something out of the frame. The
text accompanying the picture puzzled her at first, an odd phrase about a
covert operation and a surveillance monitor. There was something vaguely
familiar about the words, but she could not place them. She glanced at the
picture again, the frown, her first officer and friend dressed in a leather
vest and a soft brown shirt, slightly blurred as if he were moving very
quickly. A reconnaissance shot, she realized, and sat back sharply. His
criminal record.
	She stared at the picture until it wavered before her eyes. She willed her
vision to clear but it did not; in a matter of seconds everything in her
sight had blurred beyond recognition. She lowered her eyes and cradled her
head in her shaking hands, Chakotay watching over her with a frozen frown.
	On the evening of the fourth day she cried herself to sleep.

	There was a presence in the room.
	She sensed it before she raised her head or even opened her eyes. There
was someone or something there with her, moving slowly around her office,
hovering, moving on easily, almost gliding. She stayed very still,
listening. Whoever or whatever it was, it had come into her office
unannounced and uninvited, but still she felt no sense of impending danger,
no threat. Her mind automatically asked who would barge in without asking
-- Tuvok, perhaps, but only if he thought she were in immediate danger.
None of the other senior staff. Chakotay might have, he'd done it once or
twice before when he felt she needed to talk and wouldn't ask him directly
to be her sounding board. But it couldn't be Chakotay, he was gone now.
	The presence hesitantly moved closer to her, a whisper in the quiet room,
somewhere between night and day. And cold, swirling around her feet,
stroking her cheek. A silent, icy presence slowly wrapping around her,
raising every hair on her body, sending chills down her back. She shivered
uncontrollably.
	Then the cold was in her, cooling the blood in her veins, freezing the
breath in her throat, pressing upon her mind the urgent need for warmth.
There were no words that she could immediately identify, just the vague
feeling that someone was there with her, and that if she did not move soon
they would both freeze to death. She opened her eyes, hoping to catch the
intruder, but there was no one. She was alone in the room, had been all
along.
	She leaned back heavily, eyes closed, strangely disappointed that it had
only been another illusion, the product of too many near-sleepless nights
-- four of them now. In a few hours it would be the fifth day since
Chakotay's disappearance. She wondered how much time would pass before she
found a different way to name the passing days, when she would stop
measuring her life beginning with the end of Chakotay's presence in it. A
sigh escaped her lips, loud in the silence of the room. She rose stiffly,
the cold still with her, trapped inside her uniform. Before she left, she
programmed an increase in the ambient temperature -- perhaps it would be
warm by morning. But the Bridge was cold, too, and the lift and corridors.
Once she even thought she felt a harsh wind against her face, though her
mind automatically told her such a phenomenon was impossible in the closed
atmosphere of a starship.
	Outside her quarters she hesitated, shivering, casting a forlorn glance
back at his door. Someone would have to pack up his belongings soon,
another officer would move into his room -- Tuvok, most likely. He'd been
sharing quarters since the early days of their journey. And Tuvok would
also be the logical choice to ascend to Chakotay's position. She wondered
if Tuvok would ever leave his bed unmade, or neglect to tidy his used
dishes, or forget to water his plants.
	She took two quick steps back down the corridor, keyed in the override and
stepped into Chakotay's quarters, moving around the room as she had the
night before -- examining his sand paintings, brushing dust away,
straightening his rocks and plants. She kicked off her boots and, with a
sigh and a shudder that shook her whole body, she crawled into his bed and
wrapped herself in his blanket.
	Somewhere between night and day she fell asleep.

	On the morning of the fifth day she awoke with a start, as if someone had
suddenly spoken her name.
	She looked warily around the room -- no longer unfamiliar to her. But
there was no one there, no missing first officer, not even the sweet scent
of sakra. Familiar plants and rocks, familiar blanket and furniture. But an
empty room.
	She settled back again and wrapped the blanket around her. The temperature
must have dropped ten degrees during the night, maybe even fifteen --
someone had turned back the environmental controls in Chakotay's quarters.
She drew the blanket over her head and exhaled sharply, attempting to warm
the space around her face. Her hands and feet had gone completely numb, all
her limbs were stiff with cold. With a low moan she stretched gingerly,
willing warmth back into her body. After a few moments of slow calisthenics
she realized that the chill was not going to go away. She ordered the
computer to prepare a hot bath, stripped off her uniform, and plunged into
the already steamy bathroom.
	Hot water closed over her, stinging her cold fingers and toes painfully,
bringing blood to the surface of her skin. She stared down at herself, at
her feet and legs slowly reddening with heat. Her eyes watered, hot tears
streaming down her cheeks and chin, rolling down her neck and splashing
into the bath water. She sank down in the tub and let the water flow over
her head, lifting her hair to the surface. Water rushed into her ears and
finally shut out the sounds of the ship around her. Her breath held while
she sat and listened to her own mind, the faint but incessant whispers of
consciousness and unconsciousness. And something else, brushing up against
her mind urgently. Too far away, it seemed to say, too far, not enough
time, so many regrets. A distant, pained cry.
	Her face broke the surface of the water with a loud splash. She struggled
up and gasped for breath, not knowing how long she had stayed underwater.
So long she must have started to lose consciousness, hallucinate again. So
long that the water had gone cold, almost icy. She sprang from the tub and
wrapped herself in a thick towel, asked the replicator for a clean uniform
and an extra weight turtleneck, thick socks, long underwear. The hair rose
on her flesh while she dried and dressed. She left the room slowly,
reluctantly, dreading the task ahead.
	Holodeck 2 was empty, as she'd known it must be -- the memorial service
was scheduled for late in the afternoon and she had reserved time to
program a suitable scene.
	Somewhere warm, she thought, shivering. He'd want them all to be somewhere
warm and comfortable, somewhere familiar. She voiced a series of commands
and the Holodeck grid was soon replaced with red sand and stone, low scrub
brush, cacti, distant hills. A hot red sun moving toward the western
horizon, a thin layer of clouds glowing pink in the evening sky. Birds and
lizards and the distant barking of a coyote, or perhaps a wolf. The Arizona
desert at sunset. Yes.
	She turned slowly, surveying the scene, and a chill ran up her spine.
Another series of commands and she seated herself on a rock, waiting for
the temperature to rise.
	There would have to be words, something to comfort the grieving crew. He
always used the same words, something about circles and joining and lives
touched in infinite ways -- words suitable for all their gatherings, both
solemn and joyous. She concentrated hard but could not remember the
phrases, wishing suddenly she had discussed them with him before, what they
meant to him and what they meant to the crew. What they had meant to her
then, what they would mean to her now, if only she could remember. The few
words that came to her left her unsatisfied -- a good officer, loyal,
courageous, intelligent, occasionally foolhardy and endlessly stubborn, but
always focused on the journey, always motivated by concern for the ship and
crew. And for her.
	She leaned forward and rested her head in her hands, eyes closed with
sudden fatigue. The temperature rose around her but she sensed no warmth,
only the lingering chill in her bones. She shuddered and suspected that she
was ill -- the cold, the hallucinations, the lack of sleep. She should have
reported to sickbay days ago, probably on the fourth day after she'd gone
to sleep in his chair. Or maybe even sooner, maybe on the third day when
she'd broken into his quarters with the ridiculous urge to water his
plants.
	She sighed heavily. Tom or B'Elanna could help her carry the plants to the
Holodeck. And Harry must know some suitable music -- perhaps he'd even play
for the service if she asked him directly. Kes might be able to help her
with the words, or even Tuvok. Now, if only the temperature would rise a
little more...
	"Captain Janeway, please report to the Bridge." Tuvok's voice on the comm
system made her jump. She shook her head sheepishly, guiltily, and dashed
from the Holodeck, the Arizona sun continuing to set behind her.

	The Bridge bustled with activity. Alpha crew was on deck again, at their
familiar stations. All but one. She shook the thought away and crossed to
her chair. "Report, Mister Tuvok," she snapped.
	"We have received a distress call, Captain, from the third moon of the
third planet of the system we are approaching." The viewscreen changed to
show the system and the planet, the moon in question highlighted with a
faint pulse.
	She frowned, puzzled. "But I thought this system was uninhabited."
	Neelix crossed to her. "It is, Captain. The planets are all barren."
	"There is vegetation on the first three," Tuvok corrected, "as well as on
the moon from which we are receiving the distress signal. But no animal
life."
	"What kind of distress signal is it?"
	Harry looked up from his station grimly. "Vidiian, Captain."
	"Vidiian? What are the Vidiians doing out here?" she mused aloud. "Is the
signal directed specifically at the Voyager?"
	"Negative. It is an automated signal, probably from a downed shuttlecraft,
addressed at any passing ship. The configuration, however, has been
modified from other Vidiian signals we have encountered. This signal is dete
ctable in far more frequencies than the standard Vidiian signal."
	"So whoever they are, they're desperate."
	"Essentially correct."
	She rose and placed her hands on her hips. "Life signs, Mister Kim?"
	"Only one so far."
	"Vidiian?"
	He keyed in a series of commands and frowned. "The signal is too faint to
tell yet." He shook his head at her. "Whoever he is, he's probably freezing
to death."
	She whirled on him in disbelief, feeling the color drain from her face.
"What did you say?" she hissed.
	He drew back a little, alarmed. "It's a cold moon -- nothing but snow and
ice. It's big enough to hold an atmosphere and the atmosphere's thick
enough to hold in some heat, but I wouldn't want to be down there for very
long, not even in a crashed Vidiian shuttlecraft."
	Janeway turned back to the viewscreen, her arms wrapped around her torso,
suddenly unable to contain any of her own warmth. It was nothing she could
analyze with a tricroder or dissect in a lab. But the clues had been there
all along, just waiting for her to see them, to open her mind and
understand. When she found her voice, it sounded strange to her own ears,
thin and strangled, tinged with dread. "How long could someone survive
under those conditions? A human?"
	There was a stunned silence on the Bridge, a complete halt in activity.
"Not long, Captain," Tuvok said quietly. "No more than a few days."
	"How soon can we be there, maximum speed?"
	Tom's hands moved over his console. "About thirty minutes at warp 8.5."
	"B'Elanna?"
	"We might be able to squeeze out warp 9.5, but we can't sustain it for
more than a few minutes, Captain."
	"Tom, lay in a -- "
	"Done. Just give the word."
	"Do it."
	The Bridge exploded with life around her while she sank into her chair,
shivering with cold and exhaustion. "And Tuvok?"
	"Captain?"
	"Cancel the memorial service."
	"Aye, Captain.

	She found him in a lean-to constructed of parts stripped from the
destroyed Vidiian shuttle.
	He was unconscious, barely breathing. She knelt beside him, forgetting
Tuvok's presence entirely, and pulled his head into her lap, her fingers
searching for a pulse. His heart had slowed to just a handful of beats per
minute, his skin was frozen from exposure. Hibernating, but with nothing to
protect him but his uniform, the walls of the lean-to and a survival
blanket pulled from the shuttle. While Tuvok gave the order and they waited
for Harry to send them to Sickbay, she stroked his hair, short and soft and
thick, murmuring to him softly.
	Her last glimpse of the frozen moon startled her -- an expanse of white,
colorless, ravaged by wind and weather, almost featureless except for a
dying tree, each branch encased in ice, glowing white against the black
night sky.
	And then they were in Sickbay, a flurry of hands moving about them, easing
him from her grasp and moving him to a diagnostic bed. Hands reached to
remove his cold, wet uniform and she moved to help them. But her own hands
refused to respond, as if they were not attached to her body at all. She
cursed her own clumsiness, her inability to help. Her eyes locked on his
face, she reached out with great effort and touched his forehead, so cold
it almost hurt. In an instant he was naked on the diagnostic bed, Kes and
the Doc descending on him with blankets and tricorders and worried
expressions.
	Janeway searched Kes' face. The younger woman frowned deeply. "A severe
case of hypothermia with many areas of advanced frostbite. We have to warm
his blood, but not too quickly. We'll know something more in an hour or
two." Kes moved to take her elbow. "You can wait in the office, Captain..."
	She nodded numbly and let Kes lead her away from his side, stood back and
watched while they worked over him with hypos and other unfamiliar
instruments. The process was fascinating -- but frightening at the same
time. Because it had nothing to do with him, not the man she knew, not the
spirit or the soul or the life within him. They were only healing his body,
she realized. He would need something more. She left Sickbay at a dead run.
	The cold wind was with her again, propelling her from behind, lifting her
hair and pushing her down the corridor. It drove her back to his quarters,
as she had suspected, where she gathered his blanket in her arms. She
turned and dashed back to the Sickbay, leaving the door locked open behind
her.
	She barely noticed that the familiar ruddy color was returning to his
cheeks before she scattered Kes and the Doc and their instruments and
wrapped him in the coarse blanket. The Doctor started to protest but Kes
pushed him away -- Janeway caught her smile at the edge of her vision. She
knelt beside his bed and stroked his forehead again. "It's all right,
Chakotay," she whispered. "I finally heard you..."
	Much later she was aware of being lifted from the floor and settled into a
chair at his side. It must be night again, but he was awake -- he turned
his head toward her, wincing with pain, and smiled. She sighed with relief
and closed her eyes.
	On the fifth day she went to sleep in the Sickbay, the edge of a coarse
blanket clutched in her fist.

	The next afternoon she found herself walking through the corridors slowly,
nodding at Beta crew as they headed for their quarters, smiling at Gamma
crew hurrying to their posts.  It was all familiar but somehow new to her.
She smiled, enjoying the moment, finding sacredness in the everyday events
around her, the afternoon of the first day since Chakotay's return.
	She'd gotten the story in snatches while he recovered -- the cloaked
canyon he'd discovered after the rest of the team had returned to the ship,
the abduction by the Vidiians, the interrogation, the escape, the crash of
yet another shuttlecraft. She had turned to Tuvok with an amused expression
-- "At least it wasn't one of mine this time." After her shift she'd asked
the computer for his whereabouts, though she knew where he must be.
	He had unfolded the blanket on the sand and lay sprawled on his back,
snoring lightly, spread out against the evening sky like an offering.  She
knelt near his bare feet, not touching the blanket but hovering at the edge
of it, not wanting to disturb him.  He stirred a little and she smiled.
Dark and quiet now, but with life beneath that calm surface, abundant life,
ready to overflow and spill out into the room, touching whoever might be
there with him.
	She sat for a long time studying him in sleep. She had intended to wake
him and hear the story of his escape firsthand. But he slept so peacefully,
so soundly, that she found herself unable to disturb him. Instead she knelt
quietly, watching his chest and impossibly broad shoulders rise and fall
with each of his soft snores. His expression was as open and unguarded as
she'd ever seen it, lacking both the quiet intensity and crafty humor that
usually dominated it. She let her eyes travel over his calm face, lingering
over his features as she never could have had he been awake -- the sparse
whiskers that had grown overnight, the long slightly crooked nose, likely
broken in a fight, the arching lines over his left eye. Finally she stared
at his mouth, that unusual curve of his lips that only a master artist
could have re-created. The lips turned up in a sudden smile, almost as if
he were reading her thoughts even while he slept, and she reddened
self-consciously.
	Without realizing it she had drifted closer to him. She was close enough
to feel the breath he exhaled touch her face. Once, experimentally, she
deliberately inhaled that breath, letting his air expand and fill her. As
she did so a pleasant warmth spread throughout her, starting from her lungs
and flowing down through her belly, up to her head, all the way to the ends
of her fingers and toes, leaving her lightheaded, dizzy with heat. The
thought so fascinated her, that he could warm her with his very breath,
that she inhaled again and again, leaning close and almost sniffing at him.
	She became possessed by the need to touch him, to confirm that he was real
and alive. She wanted to reach out and very gently stroke her palm across
the top of his head, to feel the texture of his close-cropped hair -- was
it stiff and spiky, like fresh-cut grass, or soft and thick, like animal
fur? Without her thinking consciously about it, one of her hands crept
across the blanket toward him, her fingers lightly brushing the sleeve of
his civilian tunic. Her eyes still locked on his face, her fingers
continued their journey, traveling slowly and staying in contact with only
the fabric of the shirt, not daring to disturb the flesh underneath. The
metal of his communicator felt cool against her skin, contrasting sharply
with the cloth that trapped his warmth beneath it. At the edge of his
collar her fingers reluctantly left him and lifted a little, hovering at
the side of his placid face.
	She was reaching out, not quite touching him, still leaning forward and
drawing breath from him, when his eyes snapped open. He stared, unmoving.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
	She froze for an instant, caught almost nose-to-nose with him, close
enough to see the shock and curiosity and hint of something else in his
eyes. She drew in a sharp breath and started to remove her hand, but he
reached out and snatched her fingers before she could pull them away. "What
are you doing?" he asked again.
	"I was..." She swallowed hard, trying to remember, trying to forget. "I
was going to wake you up." She forced her voice to be steady. "How are you
feeling?"
	A frown crossed his features, a look of utter disbelief, then was gone. He
shivered, released her hand and pulled the blanket around his shoulders. "A
little stronger. Stiff, numb. And cold... Every time I think I've finally
gotten warm, I remember that place and it starts all over again." He
gestured around the room. "Though being here has helped." He cocked his
head at her. "Someone left it on. It's a terrible drain on power
consumption." A slight smile softened his words.
	"I left it on because -- "
	He looked away sharply. "I know. You were going to have the memorial
service here. B'Elanna told me, after you were asleep last night. We talked
for a long time." He raised his face to the sky, the setting sun reflected
in his dark eyes. "You were going to leave me behind," he said.
	She let out a sharp breath. "Chakotay, I -- "
	He shook his head to stop her words. "You don't have to explain anything
to me, Captain. I understand why you made the decision."
	"I had to decide for us all, and my primary goal is to get us home. I
couldn't justify keeping everyone there any longer, and -- "
	"No, Captain." He interrupted her again. "I understand. You made the only
decision you could."
	His gaze searched her face, implored her to leave the next words unsaid.
But she could not -- he had to hear, she had to say it and make it real,
not only for herself. "I needed to know I could leave anyone behind, if the
circumstances forced me to it." She met his eyes steadily. "Including you."

	He nodded, smiled a little and looked away. "How did you know where to
find me?"
	Her eyes wandered over the desert. "I just knew...I'm sorry. I don't quite
understand it. I suppose you could say it was a hunch."
	He kept his face turned away from her, his voice full of quiet wonder. "I
tried to contact my animal guide, but I kept seeing you instead. I tried to
tell you where I was, but you wouldn't listen to me. I thought I was
hallucinating." He smiled. "Maybe I was."
	"If you were, then so was I."
	He raised his hands to his face and blew into them, rubbed them together
and folded them in his lap. When he spoke again his voice was so soft she
almost lost it on the warm evening breeze. "You don't think we were
somehow...communicating, do you?"
	She raked her fingers through the sand, not looking at him. "I suppose
it's possible, though I doubt we'll ever know how."
	"Do you think it'll ever happen again?"
	Cold in the room, suddenly, inexplicably, a memory jostled to the surface
unbidden. He had broadcast his emotions to her, his exhaustion and fear,
his utter despair, and somehow she had heard him. To be able to communicate
with him across the distances, to be so linked to him -- she shook her
head, unable to fathomhow or why it had happened, what it had meant for
them. What it would mean for them in the future, should it ever happen
again. She shivered. "I don't know," she said finally, almost a whisper.
	He pulled his knees to his chest, wrapped his arms around them. "You saved
my life by deciding to leave me behind. If you had stayed to look for me
even one more day, I would have frozen to death."
	The significance of it hit her suddenly, the realization that, in order to
get him back, she had had to let him go. She drew in a breath and shook her
head. "I hadn't thought of that," she acknowledged.
	He dug his toes in the sand, shook the blanket off his shoulders a little.
The edge of it lightly grazed her arm; she touched it with her fingertips,
turned her hand over to grasp one corner. When she glanced up again he was
staring at her with a look of uncertain curiosity. "Can I ask you one more
question -- off the record?"
	"Of course."
	"What were you going to do?"
	"When?"
	"When you were going to wake me up..." he prompted, his hesitant gaze
warm. "What were you going to do?" Her mouth opened once, twice, but she
was unable to form words. He bit his lip, dark eyes searching her face, and
turned his body toward hers, leaning forward a little. "If you won't tell
me, then show me. Please, show me what you were going to do."
	Janeway sat very still, the corner of the blanket still gripped tightly in
her hand. Easy, she thought, it would be so easy to close the distance and
place her open palm against his cheek, to let her thumb slide over his
mouth, to pass her hand through his short hair -- she was close enough to
see it now, it was soft and thick. Easy to frame his face in both hands, to
lean forward and let him breathe that warm breath into her again, to let
her head fall down onto his chest. Easy to let him go back to sleep, to
pull the blanket over them both, to wrap her body around his and rest in
his embrace. It would be so easy, her mind teased, to cast off their roles
and responsibilities and give in to this moment, with the sun setting
before them and the ship quiet around them and home half a universe away.
	"Show me," he whispered, the invitation plain in his voice, his eyes, his
hands held out to her in silent question.
	Far too easy. And far, far too dangerous. She shoved the inappropriate
thoughts from her mind and raised her chin. "I don't know what you're
talking about, Commander."
	He stopped short, every motion tinged with confusion, then the intensity
evaporated from his face. "I'm sorry, Captain," he murmured, eyes downcast.
	Something in her, some urgent, insidious presence, begged her to respond
to the dejection in his face, to the lost hopelessness in his voice. "By
the way..." She turned back to the setting sun and closed her eyes. "While
you were gone, I..."
	Her voice trailed off as the time came back to her in a rush, the long
empty days full of careening emotions, the agony of the decision. She could
feel him beside her, endlessly curious.
	"Captain?"
	She smiled suddenly. "I watered your plants."

The End


*WE ARE FAMILY*

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*ALL ABOUT NOW VOYAGER*

	Welcome to the officially sanctioned Kate Mulgrew Appreciation Society.
This newsletter is published bimonthly by Michelle Erica Green and Paul
Anderson, 8114 Inverness Ridge Road, Potomac, MD 20854.  You can reach us
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	This is a not-for-profit, amateur publication and is not intended to
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	Look for Now Voyager on the World Wide Web at:
http://gl.umbc.edu/~mpanti1/kate/kate.html.

[Drawing]

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