Star Trek: Voyager: Endgame

her crew. Many were weeping openly. Chakotay stepped forward and motioned for quiet.
    “Captain,” he said, “if you can spare the time, the crew has a request. They would all like the opportunity to make their personal farewells to you now, while they are all still formally crew members of
Voyager.”
    Janeway had thought her heart full, but now it overflowed. For the rest of her life, she knew, she would remember this: walking down the seemingly endless line, sharing laughter, hugs, handshakes, slaps on the back. She tried to brand each face into her brain, every word, every expression. Whatever her own new voyage held for her, it would be hard pressed to measure up to the exquisite, painful joy of this single precious moment.
    * * *
    There was to be a “welcome home” dinner for all crew members and up to four guests held at Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco. Because this was a hugely complicated gathering to arrange at such short notice, all crew were requested not to leave the ship in order to greet family and friends until the dinner.
    “This is driving me nuts,” Harry Kim confided to Paris, stalking up and down the small room like a caged animal. “Why can't I see them?”
    “Starfleet red tape,” said Paris, cooing at little Miral. She wasn't buying it. She glared at him, then opened her mouth and wailed lustily. “That's one thing I haven't missed in the last seven years.” He rose and thrust Miral into Harry's arms. “Here. I don't want to let all that rhythmic, soothing pacing go to waste.”
    “You're lucky,” said Kim, cradling the baby awkwardly and almost shouting to be heard over her crying. “You got to see your dad before anyone else on this ship.”
    “Yeah, but it could have gone worse,” said Paris. He grinned a little as Miral's angry cries faded into satisfied murmuring. “And don't forget, I'm getting to meet a Klingon mother-in-law tonight.”
    “And how is that worse for you than it is for me?” challenged B'Elanna, coming out of the bathroom adjusting her dress uniform. “Hey, Starfleet, you're pretty good with her. Too bad you won't be around to baby-sit anymore.”
    Kim smiled, feeling a rush of affection for both of these people. The terms he and B'Elanna used, which had once marked their differences, had become pet names between two dear friends.
    “Don't worry, Maquis,” he said. “I hope to visit you guys often.”
    “Door's always open, Harry.” Paris rose and took his daughter from Harry's arms, then turned to B'Elanna. “Showtime,” he said.
    * * *
    “Seven, what are you doing here?” said the Doctor, adjusting his dress uniform. “I thought that you and Chakotay would already be at the party.”
    “Commander Chakotay will be anxious for some time alone with his Maquis friends. I will not be attending,” she said stiffly. “I have come to complete the cataloguing I began earlier.” As if she were the head of sickbay and not he, Seven slipped easily into the Doctor's chair.
    “What about your aunt? Surely she'll be there tonight.”
    “I received a transmission from her. She is unwell and also will be unable to attend.” Seven's fingers were flying over the controls, but now they paused in their frantic motions. “She has extended an invitation for me to visit her once I am . . . settled in.”
    “Seven,” the Doctor said gently, “please tell me you are going to go see her.” Seven did not answer. “She's the only family you have!”
    “Voyager
was my family,” she blurted before she could retract the statement. A blush colored her cheeks. “And now my family is dispersed. There is no purpose to my attending tonight, and these catalogues—”
    “Are what we call busywork and are almost completely superfluous,” the Doctor said firmly. “And there is actually quite a vital purpose to your attending tonight.”
    Surprised, she looked up at him. “What?”
    “Have you never thought that I don't have any family, either?” he said. “Oh, I'm certain I'll soon be hugely sought-after in the medical community, with my vast store of knowledge and experience. But tonight, it's all about friends and family. I won't have anyone to talk to at the banquet.”
    He extended an arm. “I would be honored if you would grant me the favor of your company this evening, Miss Seven of Nine.”
    For a long, long moment, he thought she would refuse. He expected her to refuse, actually. But finally, an uncertain smile curved her full lips, and