Homecoming - Christie Golden [11]
“How many people did you speak to?” he asked, then turned to the replicator. “Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.”
“About thirty,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s more than you’re supposed to see outside of catastrophic situations,” he reprimanded, taking his tea and sitting beside her.
“In a way, it is a catastrophic situation,” Troi replied. “These people have been without a professional counselor for seven full years, Captain. And they’ve been through some incredible adventures—some wondrous, some brutally tragic. They’ve been tremendously [31] isolated, and they’ve adapted by creating their own little world aboard that ship.”
“Good or bad?”
She smiled. “Very good. Captain Janeway has almost assumed the rank of a god in some eyes. And after some of the stories I’ve heard today, that designation seems quite believable.”
“Hmm,” Picard said.
“And now, with no warning, no time to prepare, to mentally ready themselves for it, they’ve achieved their goal. They made it back to the Alpha Quadrant. They’re going to be with their families in a week.” She paused. “Thank you, by the way, for recommending to the admirals that we not travel home at top speed. Voyager’s crew desperately needs the extra time to readjust.”
He nodded. “As I suspected. Do you think there will be trouble? Any former Maquis returning with fire in the belly? There was probably a lot of desire for revenge when they heard about the decimation of Tevlik’s moonbase.”
She shook her dark head and took another bite of ice cream. “No. The division of Federation and Maquis has long since faded. But I do think it likely that they might think of themselves as Voyager crewmen first, and Starfleet officers and enlisted second.”
“That could be a problem.” He leaned back, thinking. “Even Janeway, who’s a sterling example of what a captain should be, didn’t seem to fully grasp how much things had changed—though, frankly, Admiral Montgomery was unnecessarily harsh with her. It’s a shame, really. At any other time in recent history Voyager’s [32] homecoming would be the most important thing to happen to Starfleet in any given year. Now their safe return is barely a footnote.”
Troi’s large, dark eyes were somber as she regarded her captain. “Some of them are beginning to understand that. And it’s not helping their readjustment any.”
“I can imagine.” He made his decision. “Tomorrow, I want you back on Voyager for the duration of its trip back to Earth. Those people are going to need you. You have my permission to regard this as a catastrophic-level duty assignment.”
“Aye, sir.” She answered quickly enough, and he was certain that she was more than willing to help, but he also knew these next few days were going to be difficult for her.
“And Deanna,” he said, teasing gently, “it’s not going to be easy. Better fortify yourself with more chocolate.”
Janeway sat in her ready room, pondering. The days had passed more quickly than she had imagined. In sixteen hours, they would be in orbit around Earth. She and her senior staff had all been debriefed. Torres’s had taken the longest—four hours. Janeway had the dubious honor of coming in second. Everyone else had been dismissed after a half hour or forty-five minutes. Hardly enough for an extended away mission, let alone one that had lasted seven years. ...
Stop it, she told herself. What did you expect? Medals? A parade down the streets of San Francisco? Fireworks? These people are coming off a brutal war. Be grateful that you got so many home safely. You [33]didn’t do this to win praise, you did this to keep a promise—to return your crew to their families.
Her door chimed. “Come,” she called.
Chakotay entered. He was clad in his dress uniform, as was she. “It’s time,” he said.
Janeway had thought about doing this via intercom, but decided that she wanted to do it in person. So her entire crew was assembled in Cargo Bay Two. They were all clad in dress uniform. Some of them wore medals. She let Chakotay precede her, heard the tinny whistle