Star Trek: Voyager: Endgame

key players in the war that had just recently ended. Janeway could see him easily in that role, and was grateful that Starfleet had had him.
    But what did men like that do when there was peace?
    More attention was given to
Voyager'
s interaction with the Borg. Even there, the questions were specific and Janeway was none too gently urged to reply with equal specificity. Montgomery leaned forward when she began to speak of the most recent battle. From time to time, Janeway could see his jaw tensing.
    “Now,” Montgomery said when she had done, “where did you acquire this latest technology with which
Voyager
is equipped?”
    She smiled a little. “Well, it's actually Starfleet technology. You just haven't figured it out yet.”
    Montgomery glared at her. “An official debriefing with three captains and four admirals is no place for jokes, Captain Janeway.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “I assure you, Admiral, I fully appreciate the seriousness of this matter. I'm wondering if everyone here does. We seem to be racing through this debriefing when—”
    “You say this is Starfleet technology, Captain,” Montgomery interrupted. “Explain.”
    Choosing her words carefully to keep the explanation as brief as possible, Janeway explained about her future self returning to save
Voyager
and help them destroy the Borg transwarp hub. Montgomery's icy eyes flashed as she spoke and his jaw tightened, but he did not interrupt.
    Janeway finished. There was a long, cold pause. Finally, Montgomery said in a flat voice, “Do you have any idea how many general orders you've violated, Captain?”
    “Ken,” said Paris gently, “first of all, she didn't do it. A twenty-six-years-older version of her did. And besides, you've got to admit there are extenuating circumstances.” The admiral's words were delivered in a calm and mild fashion, but his face was hard. Montgomery seemed about to retort, then nodded.
    “We'll send over some of our best people and begin analyzing this . . . this futuristic technology immediately. This hearing is over.”
    He picked up his padd and rose abruptly. Janeway, startled, met Picard's hazel eyes. He seemed as puzzled as she. Without any further interaction, Admiral Montgomery strode out and was followed by several others. Picard and Paris remained as Janeway gathered her notes.
    “Admiral Paris,” she said, “permission to speak freely.”
    He looked troubled, but replied, “Granted.”
    Janeway put her hands on her hips and stuck her chin out. “That entire briefing lasted less than an hour,” she said to them. “We've been gone for seven years. We've accumulated data on over four hundred completely new species. We've had more interaction with the Borg than anyone in this quadrant and we've managed to beat them nearly every time. We've successfully liberated a human woman who was assimilated when she was six years old. We've got an EMH who's exceeded his programming far beyond expected parameters and we've got an entire crew that has performed, not just well, but
exceptionally.
And Starfleet gets all it wants to know in under an hour?”
    She was aware that her words were irate, almost belligerent, but she'd been given permission to speak her mind. It was Picard who answered first.
    “It's going to be difficult for you to understand this, Kathryn, but . . . while everyone in Starfleet knows about your adventure, and is delighted that you made it safely home despite the incredible odds, you aren't going to be as feted as you might have been had the war not happened.”
    “It's not that people don't care,” put in Paris. “It's that there are so many things we need to be doing to recover. Our resources have been depleted throughout the quadrant. We're helping the Cardassians rebuild, mourning our dead, trying to move on.”
    “I do understand, Admiral. But the things we've learned can help you do that.”
    “And they will,” said Picard. “Everything we'll need to learn is in your computer databanks. The information will be passed on directly to the experts in their field. The board simply didn't need to keep you here for hours when everyone, including you, has other things to do.”
    They were trying to soften the blow, of course, and she was going to let them think they had succeeded. “Speaking of which,” she said, forcing a smile, “I'd better get back to my ship. Thank you, gentlemen, and good day.”
    * * *
    In about a half hour,
Voyager
was going to be crawling with