Star Trek: Voyager: Endgame

Starfleet personnel whose job it was to learn everything about all the modifications that had been made on the ship in the last seven years, particularly the new technology that Admiral Janeway had given them. As she stood in the turbolift en route to Holodeck One, Janeway wondered why the modifications seemed to take priority over all the other things
Voyager
had brought back with it. The tactical information on the Borg should have been the most vital information, not the shielding technology and other improvements.
    The turbolift halted, and she sighed. She was not looking forward to this, but it had to be done. One of the things the Starfleet engineers would analyze would be all the holodeck simulations. Janeway had told her crew that anything they regarded as “personal” could and should be deleted.
    The doors to the holodeck hissed open and she entered. Laughter and music reached her ears, and she smiled despite herself.
    “Katie, darling!” cried Michael Sullivan, drying his hands with a dish towel. His handsome face was alight with affection. Before she knew it, he'd caught her around the waist, whirled her around twice, and planted a kiss on her mouth. “I've missed you.”
    “I've missed you too, Michael.” Gently, she disengaged herself from his strong arms. “I have some sad news. I won't be able to come to Fair Haven again.”
    It hurt her, to watch the light fade from his eyes. “Your journey . . . you've made it home then, have you?” At her nod, he said, “Why, Katie, that's wonderful. Just grand. You've been trying for so long. I'm happy for you.”
    And he was, she had no doubt. But she was sorry for herself. Tenderly, she reached and touched his cheek, feeling the warmth of his holographic skin, the scratch of his holographic beard stubble. He wasn't real, but in a way, he had become very real to her. She had learned to care deeply for him, but where she was going, there was once again a chance for her to learn to care deeply for a living, breathing person.
    She stood on tiptoe to kiss him, sweetly, gently, then whispered “Good-bye,” turned, and left. She had instructed the computer not to accept any more adjustments to Michael Sullivan from her. It would be up to Tom Paris, the designer of the program, to save or delete the program as he chose.
    But as far as she was concerned, when the doors closed behind her, she had left Fair Haven, and all it meant, behind.
    And she was surprised at just how painful it was.
    * * *
    The Doctor looked up in surprise as Seven of Nine entered sickbay. She did not appear to be in a good mood. However, with Seven, that was usually a given.
    “Implants acting up?” he asked.
    “Negative,” she replied, then looked a bit discomfited. “I . . . wished to inquire if you needed any assistance.”
    “My sickbay rush has come and gone,” he replied. “Actually, the only thing I'm doing now is writing up my report for Starfleet.”
    She inclined her blond head. “In that case, I shall leave.” Seven turned and strode toward the door.
    “Seven, wait a minute,” he called after her. She halted. “What about you? I'm certain you will have an extensive report as well, considering your unique position among the crew.”
    Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Seven all but glowered. “I completed my report. And I have also been debriefed.”
    “How was that?” Poor child, he thought. They had probably raked her over the coals, grilled her on everything conceivable.
    “It was brief,” she replied.
    The Doctor considered letting her know that she'd come close to making a pun, then let it pass. “I'm surprised,” he said.
    “Yes,” she said archly. “As am I. Apparently, my ‘unique position’ warrants no more than forty-five minutes of Starfleet's time.” She paused. “Icheb has received notification that he has been accepted into Starfleet Academy.”
    “Seven, that's wonderful! You must be very proud of him.”
    “I am.”
    “But you're going to miss him, aren't you?”
    She nodded. “I had not fully taken into account what returning to Earth really means. We will all be . . . scattered. I had not anticipated that Icheb and I would be separated quite so soon.”
    He wondered where Chakotay fit into all this, but said nothing. “And of course Naomi . . .”
    “Naomi Wildman will be returning to her home, to live with both father and mother. It is an appropriate end result.”
    “But you've been very close to both these