Star Trek: Voyager: Endgame

dark head and took another bit 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 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 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. 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 all got home safely. You 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 announcing her entrance.
    “Captain on deck!”
    The crew snapped to attention. Janeway savored the picture, her eyes roaming from one individual to the next. This was going to be bittersweet. She strode to the front of the room and stood behind the podium.
    “At ease,” she said. They relaxed. She looked at the padd she held in her hand, then carefully placed it down. Even though she had spent hours crafting the speech, she now realized she didn't want to use it. She would speak from the heart. Her crew deserved it.
    “Seven years ago, I made a decision that left this crew and this fine ship stranded thousands of light-years from everything we knew. Even then, I held a firm conviction that this day, today, would come. The day when we are but a few hours away from Earth, and from finally seeing our loved ones. We have faced many challenges, learned many things. We've lost some fine people.” Her eyes found Icheb and little Naomi, Gilmore and Lessing from the
Equinox.
She smiled. “And added some new crew members along the way. Each of you has contributed in so many ways to making this incredible journey the astounding feat it was. It has been a true honor to be your captain. I have asked and asked, and asked yet more from you, and you always continued to astonish and amaze me with your resourcefulness, your courage, and your compassion. But now, the journey is done. This unique voyage has, finally, ended. We have come home.”
    Her throat closed up and she blinked hard. She reached for the padd, found the spot she wanted. “I'd like to close with a quote from the Earth author T. S. Eliot. ‘Not fare well, but fare forward, voyagers.’ ” She looked out into the sea of faces, all known, all loved, and knew that she would miss them and this ship desperately. “May we, voyagers all, fare forward. Godspeed.”
    The room erupted in applause. She saw that her mixture of pain and joy was reflected on almost all the faces of