Kathryn Janeway had never wanted to kill a hologram before.

All right, that wasn’t exactly true. Once, she had sincerely wanted to kill the hologram of Seska. But that was different. Somehow. Her fervent desire to kill the Doctor was in another category entirely.

It started when he came to the bridge, looking irritatingly cheery. "Since Mohammed will not come to the mountain," he said to the Captain, hoisting his medical tricorder, "the mountain comes to Mohammed."

"We just did this," she protested.

"That was twelve weeks ago, when you returned from Lenash," he reminded her. "And a thirty second scan in the corridor hardly counts. You are past due for your annual exam."

There was nothing she hated more than an argument on the bridge. "I’ll be there after duty shift," she growled.

"No need," he replied, his smile unfazed. "We can do a preliminary check in your ready room now. There will be no need to come to Sickbay unless something questionable turns up."

She turned to Chakotay with a silent appeal for help. "It’s regulation," he said, his smile showing that he knew how much she hated this, and that she was trapped, and that he was going to be of no help whatsoever.

A glance at Tuvok told her she would get no assistance there. "Oh, all right," she said ungraciously, and led the Doctor into her ready room.

"I feel fine," she told him.

"No doubt," he said, opening the medical tricorder and scanning her. "And when you have your medical degree we’ll talk some more. Cardiovascular system looks good…digestive system …hmmm." He frowned, checked a reading, and then cleared the tricorder. "Let’s try that again."

"My digestive system is just fine," she said.

"Yes, it is," he said, but he seemed distracted. Then he closed the tricorder and replaced it in his kit. "I’m sorry, Captain, but you’re going to have to come to Sickbay."

"Why?" she asked, annoyed. "I thought you said I wouldn’t have to."

"Unless something questionable showed up. Something has, and I need to run more detailed tests." He looked at her pointedly. "Shall we go now, or do we have to fight about it some more?"

"What is questionable?" she demanded. The last thing she wanted to do was spend the morning in Sickbay.

The Doctor’s expression was odd. "Either this tricorder is malfunctioning badly, or you are pregnant."

She laughed out loud. "It’s the tricorder, then, because I assure you, Doctor, I cannot possibly be pregnant. And I am not going to waste my morning because of a broken tricorder." She smiled, took him by the arm and led him toward the door. "Let’s try this again when your equipment is working properly. And next time, let me know you’re coming."

Good humor restored, she returned to the bridge. It was two hours later that the message from the Doctor appeared on her console. "The tricorder has been thoroughly tested by both Seven and myself. It is not malfunctioning. I expect you in Sickbay by 1500."

At least, she thought, he had the good sense to keep the message private and not send it over the commlink. The tone of the note bordered on insolence, but it was within his authority as CMO and probably warranted by her own attitude that morning. Even so, she was irritated.

And puzzled. If the tricorder was working properly, why would it show she was pregnant? That was one thing she could address with absolute certainty. After more than six years of a monastic personal life, she was definitely not pregnant.

She left the bridge at 1430, telling Chakotay she had some business elsewhere. He did not ask for details, apparently sensing that she wouldn’t have told him anyway. It wasn’t as if she could keep it a secret, since anyone who wanted to know her location only had to ask the computer. But she felt she could trust Chakotay to respect her privacy, unless a command situation arose.

There was no one but the Doctor in Sickbay when she arrived. "This won’t take long," he assured her. "We just need to find out what is creating that reading."

His idea of ‘not long’ and hers were too different things. For the next half-hour, he scanned her, imaged her, studied the results, and repeated the entire process. Finally he helped her off the biobed and asked her to come into his office.

Because anyone could come into Sickbay while they were talking, she followed him. As soon as they were in his office, though, she demanded impatiently, "Well?"

"I think you should sit down," he said.

"I don’t need to sit down. I just need to know what you found."

He hesitated just a moment. "Captain, the tricorder was not in error. You are pregnant, approximately 12 weeks gestation."

Janeway sat down. "Doctor," she said, pronouncing each syllable slowly, "That simply is not possible. I have not had sexual relations with anyone since we entered the Delta quadrant. That’s six and a half years. I cannot be pregnant."

"I understand your reluctance," he said. "Let me show you." He turned his monitor to face her and called up the test results.

Her eyes went immediately to the recorded image from the scan. It was undeniably a fetus, tiny and barely formed, but recognizably human. "Oh my god," she said, stunned. Involuntarily, her hand flew to her belly. "But – but – how ? How could this happen?"

"I do not doubt your sincerity," the Doctor said very carefully, "but is it possible you are overlooking something? Forgotten an encounter, perhaps?"

"I’ve been celibate for nearly 7 years," she snapped. "Believe me, I would remember if there had been ‘an encounter.’"

He tried another tack. "Twelve weeks ago, you and the Commander spent the night together on Lenash."

She glared at him. "Yes. We talked, we ate some bread, and we went to sleep. Period. End of story."

"There’s no chance that something else happened?" he pressed delicately.

"Are you suggesting," she said coldly, "that the Commander took advantage of me while I was asleep? Don’t be ridiculous."

"I’m sorry, Captain, but under the circumstances, we need to consider every possibility."

Janeway stood and paced around the office. "That’s not an option. It’s got to be something else, maybe some kind of alien intervention" – she looked up, suddenly aghast. "Doctor, is this fetus human?"

"Yes, yes," he assured her. "Anything else would have shown up in this scan."

She took a deep breath. "Then I suggest we try to figure out who the father is," she said with forced calm. "Can you perform a DNA analysis?"

"It will require an invasive procedure, but yes." His eyes were compassionate. "I’m sorry, Captain."

"Stow it," she growled. "Let’s get this over with."

The procedure itself took only fifteen minutes, but the bad news was the length of time needed to conduct the analysis. "I should know by morning if the DNA matches anyone on board Voyager."

He had made the same estimate when the time traveler Lucky had come on board. Ten to twelve hours. It was going to be a long night.

At first she returned to the ready room and tried to work, but she was unable to concentrate. Chakotay called to see if she wanted to join him at dinner, but she declined, claiming truthfully enough that she wouldn’t be good company. Finally she returned to her quarters and tried to divert herself by conjuring up ways to kill the hologram who was putting her through this nonsense.

It wasn’t his fault, she realized after a bit, and tried to think things through. Back at the Academy, when taking exams, she always skipped a question if she didn’t know the answer immediately and moved on to the ones she could answer. There’s no answer to the ‘how’ question, so move on, Kathryn, she told herself. Try this one: what are you going to do about it?

The answer to that depended largely on what the Doctor found. The ‘who’ might lead to the ‘how’ and that could easily drive her decision. If it turned out they had invisible aliens on board who were conducting medical experiments on them again, the answer would be easy. She would just have to hope she could find a binary pulsar again to get rid of them.

But it might not be so easy.

She had always planned on having children. If Voyager hadn’t been trapped in the Delta quadrant, she and Mark surely would have married and started their family by now. As it was, though, she was unattached, unlikely to become attached any time soon, and nearly 45 years old. This could be her only chance for motherhood.

But could she be a single mother and captain a lost starship without compromising both duties? Sometimes the responsibilities of command alone were overwhelming, how could she adding the responsibility for a child? There would be help, of course; just as everyone had pitched in to help Samantha Wildman when Naomi was born, they would support her. But Sam was an Ensign, not the Captain.

And just what duty did she owe to a child she had not sought? In whose creation she had been an unknowing participant?

She kept coming up with questions but very few answers.

About 0100 her stomach rumbled loudly enough to be heard in the cabin next door, and she realized she was hungry. Very hungry. Unfortunately, she was also low on replicator rations for the rest of the month. Deciding that the mess hall would probably be deserted at this hour, she pulled on a pair of sweats and went to scavenge.

The lighting in the mess should have been dimmed to night illumination, signifying that it was officially closed. When she walked in, though, it was at full strength. No one was present except Neelix, who was humming cheerfully in the galley. "Good evening, Captain," he said cheerily. "Or should I say good morning? What can I do for you?"

"What have you got for someone who forgot to have dinner?" she asked, checking over the fruit baskets on the counter. The tart chingol berries they obtained from the Tessari looked especially appealing, but she wanted something more to go with them. "And what are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be off duty?"

"You’re in luck," he said, stepping over to the cooler. "There’s some leftover soup. I’ll just heat it up for you." He bustled about as he spoke. "Have you forgotten about Prixin? The celebration is tomorrow night. There’s still a great deal to do."

Prixin. She had completely forgotten about it, and now the word caused her heart to sink like a stone. The annual celebration of family, a Talaxian tradition adopted enthusiastically by Voyager’s crew. This had to be the cruelest Delta quadrant joke yet, to foist Prixin on her while she was dealing with her present dilemma. Hot tears stung at her eyes, and she brushed them away before Neelix could see them.

By the time he presented her with a steaming bowl of vegetable soup, she was back in control. "Thank you," she said. "Neelix, would you be terribly upset if I don’t attend tomorrow night?"

The hurt showed on his face, but he immediately covered it up. "We’ll miss you, of course," he said, "but I’m sure Commander Chakotay will fill in. It will be odd, though, since you’re really the head of our family."

In spite of herself, she winced, and he saw it immediately. "Is something wrong, Captain? --I don’t mean to pry, but you seem upset."

She forced herself to relax. "There is something on my mind, but I can’t talk about it yet. Thank you for your concern, though."

He nodded. "I know how it is. Some things just have to get ripe before you share them." He smiled suddenly. "When I have a problem like that, I find that keeping busy helps. My thoughts more or less organize themselves when I’m not looking. So I find something to keep me occupied for a while."

"Why do I think you’ve got something in mind?" she asked, smiling.

"I could use an assistant," he said jauntily. "If you don’t mind peeling the wiki fruit."

It was better than staring out at space for the next few hours. "Let me finish my soup," she said, "and you’ve got a deal."

For the next four hours she peeled fruit, chopped vegetables, arranged flowers and washed pans. At first, Neelix seemed to sense her reluctance to talk, so he maintained a steady monologue, discussing everything from recipes for cobblers to his first trip off-planet. After a while, his enthusiasm was catching, and she found herself describing her first trip to Mars with her father. Before she knew it, the time was 0430 and the first breakfast seekers began to trickle in. She hadn’t thought about her problem for hours.

"Thank you, Neelix," she said, removing the apron she’d been wearing.

He smiled. "You’re welcome, Captain."

She returned to her quarters, showered and changed. A quick note to Chakotay’s console notified him that he should conduct the morning staff meeting. Then she went straight to Sickbay.

The Doctor was standing at one of the reference consoles. "I should have known," he said when he saw her.

"Do you have the results?" she asked tensely.

He nodded, and led her into his office. "There’s no doubt about it. The baby is a product of your DNA and Commander Chakotay’s."

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. "I suppose I shouldn’t say it’s not possible, since obviously it has happened, but I don’t understand."

"It seems clear to me that conception occurred while you were on Lenash," the Doctor said. "The timing is right, and you and the Commander were alone together."

"But nothing happened between us," she cried in frustration. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. "I’m sorry, Doctor. It’s just that…the Commander and I made a conscious decision some time ago that we could not engage in physical relationship, at least not while we are still in the Delta quadrant. That decision has not always been easy to live with and it was particularly difficult for me that night. But we stuck to it."

"I’m sorry," he said gently. "I don’t know what else I can tell you. I don’t believe that our alien researchers have returned; I asked Seven to test that theory, without telling her why, of course. And no one else has exhibited an unexplained condition."

"So." She ran a hand through her hair. "I’m pregnant, we don’t know why. We need to talk about the options."

His face became very serious. "There are three medical options available to you. You can carry to term, you can seek a surrogate to take over the pregnancy, or you can terminate the pregnancy. I’ve been over the test results in great detail. You are in excellent physical condition and the baby is genetically sound, free of abnormalities. Your pregnancy should be uneventful if you decide to go to term. If you choose surrogacy, we will need to wait at least three weeks, to minimize the trauma to the fetus."

He stopped, and she had to prompt him. "And termination?" Her voice sounded harsh.

"Termination," he said sadly, "should be done sooner rather than later. Before you decide, however, I recommend you advise Commander Chakotay of the situation."

"It’s not his decision," she snapped.

"No, it’s not. But he is directly concerned with the situation." He added softly, "Don’t you think he has a right to know?"

In her heart, she agreed. But the idea of telling him, of trying to discuss this with him, was too hard to contemplate. She looked away, unable to respond.

"Kathryn," the Doctor said kindly, "I know how hard this is for you. Don’t try to make this decision alone. If you can’t talk to Chakotay, at least speak with Tuvok. He is your friend, and will help you."

She nodded once, then left without saying anything more. Her mind seemed to be running on parallel tracks, one set still trying to figure out how this had happened, the other track imagining a conversation with Chakotay. As she turned a corner, she nearly tripped over something short and moving fast.

Naomi saw who she had just barreled into and froze. "Sorry, Captain."

"That’s all right," she said. "What’s the hurry?"

The little girl’s eyes grew large. "It’s Prixin," she said, as if the Captain had forgotten the most important thing in the universe. "I have to finish my lessons early so I can help Neelix."

"Ah. Well, see if you can hurry without running. It’s hard to see around corners." Naomi nodded solemnly, and took off at an accelerated walk.

Kathryn Janeway watched the little girl disappear around the corner and made at least one decision. She was going to have to talk with Chakotay.

He came to her quarters immediately after she called him. Something had happened yesterday, late in the shift, to upset her and he hoped she was going to tell him about it now. It was never a good sign when she retreated to her quarters for long periods of time; that was usually a symptom of depression or guilt that swept her from time to time. He knew enough to recognize it now, but he still felt unable to combat it. If she would talk to him, though, maybe he could help.

She was at her worktable, with a vacant chair opposite her, which she motioned him to take. She’s nervous, he realized, and wondered what could fluster Kathryn Janeway. Then she began to speak, in short simple sentences.

His first thought was that this was a joke. Maybe some kind of Prixin prank. He started to smile, but then the look on her face got through to him. She wasn’t joking. "You’re serious?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"I’m afraid so," she said glumly.

"But – but," he couldn’t stay still, he had to move. Pacing around the chair, he said, "We never" –

"I know. We never. And since I’ve been celibate since we hit the Delta quadrant, you can imagine my reaction." She took a sip of tea, then said. "The best the Doctor can come up with is that something happened the night we spent on Lenash."

He stopped pacing long enough to give her a hard look. "Nothing happened that night, Kathryn. You know that."

"I certainly don’t remember anything that would explain, uh, this situation." Her face was hot with embarrassment. "The Doctor thinks it is possible that we were drugged or otherwise tampered with, so that we don’t remember."

"Kathryn." He looked at her squarely. "I would remember making love to you, drugged or not."

Her face grew even hotter, and she had to look away from the intensity of his gaze. "There might have been some technology involved. However it happened, it’s a problem and we have to deal with it."

His eyes widened with understanding. "You’re considering termination," he said, his voice suddenly flat, and he resumed his circular pacing.

"I have to consider it," she said evenly. "We have to think about what’s best for the ship. How would a pregnancy affect my ability to command? What about our policy on no babies – how do I explain to the crew that we’re breaking the policy just this once, for me?" He said nothing, just continued his on his path, so she went on, "And what about the personal aspects of this? It’s completely unfair to both of us – and probably to the baby, too. None of us expected this."

She watched him closely, trying to discern some clue to his feelings. Finally she said, "Do me a favor and sit down. You’re making me dizzy."

Although she had hoped that might elicit a smile, his expression was completely serious as he sat down. He folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. "Put the ship aside for a moment" –

"I can’t," she interrupted.

"We’ll get to the ship," he said, almost angrily. "What I need to know is how you feel about this."

It was a legitimate question. She wished she had a better answer. "I don’t know," she admitted. "It’s hard to sort it all out. Part of me is angry and scared – but underneath that, there’s a part of me that’s glad."

He studied her for what felt like a long time, and she feared he might press her for more. She honestly didn’t know what she would say if he did. After a moment, though, he nodded, and leaned back, lost in thought.

The silence stretched as taut as her nerves and she was about to burst with anxiety when he finally spoke. "I know it’s your decision, and I’ll support whatever you choose. But I would be proud to raise a child with you."

Her eyes misted over, and she told herself it was just hormones. "I wish it were that simple."

"I didn’t say it would be easy," he said. "But you won’t be alone."

He said that before, she thought, and remembered the time they were facing the Borg. He had said she wouldn’t be alone, but in the end, she had been. Suddenly shaken, she stood and walked to the view port. "It’s all so complicated. I need to think. I imagine you do, too. I’ll let Tuvok know I’ve got you on assignment this morning."

"Thanks." He rose and started for the door. Before leaving he turned, as if to say something else to her. She already had her back to him, though, and he realized he didn’t know what he wanted to say, anyway.

Chakotay went to his office and initiated the privacy lock. His first instinct was to try a vision quest, but then he realized that he had made that journey once before, when Seska claimed to be pregnant with his child. The answer then was that the baby’s existence was not the baby’s fault. If it had been true for a child supposedly conceived by his enemy from stolen DNA, how much more true for Kathryn’s child?

His father had advised him on that quest. He saw his family now only in visions. Even if he returned to the Alpha quadrant, there would be no one except a distant cousin. He had come to think of the crew of Voyager as his family, but this child was his. Regardless of the method of conception, Kathryn’s baby was the only other human being closely connected to him by blood. The lure of that was strong.

But Kathryn was right, it wasn’t just about them. They had an obligation to put personal concerns aside for the good of the ship, and they had done just that for years. If not, they might have changed their relationship and started a family years ago. She was right, too, about the effect on the crew. The no-baby policy was not popular, but it was at least accepted. Everyone realized the need to conserve resources. Personally, he didn’t think that the crew would expand Voyager’s population to the breaking point but the policy had been thoroughly discussed. They couldn’t make an exception just for the Captain and the first officer, any more than they could just arbitrarily change the policy to accommodate them.

He knew that Kathryn had doubts about her ability to command and parent at the same time. She hadn’t voiced them, but he knew her well enough to know that was on her mind. He did not share them. If there was one thing they had learned in the Delta quadrant, it was how to cope. They would manage.

His thoughts were becoming circular, he realized. He needed a change of scene, shake things up a little bit. Maybe that would help.

Without planning it, he found himself headed for Sickbay. Much to his relief, the Doctor was there alone. "May I talk to you privately?" he asked. It felt a little odd; he had never consulted the Doctor on anything other than a physical ailment. He needed to talk, though, and there was no one else to be trusted with this.

"Have a seat," the Doctor said. "I gather the Captain has advised you of her situation."

"You gather correctly." He tried to order his thoughts. "It’s not that I don’t believe her, it’s just that it is so incredible."

"The Captain had a similar reaction," he replied. "She was quite adamant that it was not possible."

"It shouldn’t be possible," Chakotay said. "Look, I’ll be blunt. Kathryn and I have never had intimate relations. And don’t try to convince me that something happened on Lenash that I don’t remember."

The Doctor sighed. "I don’t know what to tell you. Of course, it was a fertility rite; perhaps the Lenash have some sophisticated techniques we don’t understand. Unless we turn around and ask them, we can only speculate. All we have is the indisputable fact that the Captain is pregnant and your DNA as well as hers are identifiable in the fetus."

Chakotay rubbed his temples, trying to beat back a headache. "This is very hard to accept."

"I’m sure," he said. "Would it help to see the test results for yourself? The Captain authorized me to discuss them with you."

He nodded, and the Doctor pulled the records up and turned the monitor around. "Here," he said. "This is the key DNA sequence. On this ship, that pattern could come only from you."

But Chakotay was not looking at the DNA sequence. He was looking at the image of the fetus in the womb, recorded hours earlier. His face clouded as he watched its movements. "It really is alive, isn’t it?"

"That’s long been a matter for philosophers," the Doctor said, "but I understand your feelings. On the other hand, you have to keep in mind that the Captain was not a willing participant in the creation of this fetus. She didn’t gamble and lose on contraceptives; she took no knowing steps to bring this about. In some ways, it is akin to rape."

He looked up, eyes flashing angrily. "I did not rape her."

"I didn’t mean to imply you did," the Doctor assured him quickly. "What I mean is that this situation has been forced upon her, just as it is when pregnancy results from rape. Our society has recognized the legitimacy of termination of the pregnancy under such circumstances."

Chakotay’s fingers brushed against the small image on the screen. For no discernible reason, he thought of the last time he stood on Trebus, standing in the midst of the death and destruction that had once been his home. "It’s so damned ironic," he said softly.

"Commander?"

"This is the second time I’ve been told I’m going to be a father without sleeping with the mother," he said bitterly. "When Seska told me that, do you know what I thought? I wished it was Kathryn instead." He laughed once, harshly.

The Doctor leaned back and looked at him with compassion. "I don’t mean to pry, Commander, but it has long seemed to me that you harbor some deep feelings for the Captain."

For a moment, he resisted discussing it. He hadn’t talked about it for a long time, and never with anyone other than Kathryn herself. But right now, he needed to talk. "I thought I hid it better than that. Besides, we agreed a long time ago that we could be only friends, at least as long as we’re in the Delta quadrant."

"It isn’t easy, is it – being just the best friend of the woman you love," the Doctor said with such empathy that Chakotay looked up in surprise. "I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice. You’ve got an opportunity here. Neither of you would have wished for this situation, but since it’s here, make the most of it. If you want the Captain, if you want this child, tell her so. For what it’s worth, I believe she feels as you do but is far more reluctant to admit it."

"If it were just us, it might be different," Chakotay said, as much to himself as to the Doctor. "But how can we go forward with a baby when we’ve told the rest of the crew no – and some of them long-committed couples? It wouldn’t be fair to anyone. And if we change policy, we’ll be stretching the ship’s resources even more."

"I believe that is about to become a moot point," the Doctor said dryly. He handed a padd to Chakotay. "As fertility rites go, whatever you did on Lenash was amazingly potent. Seven other members of the crew are twelve weeks pregnant – despite, I might add, their consistent use of the best contraceptives available. We’re about to become a generation ship, ready or not."

He stared at the report without reading it. "Uh…do any of them have the same, um, mysterious circumstances, as the Captain and I?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No, you seem to be the only incidence of," he seemed to search for the right term, and settled on, "spontaneous osmosis."

"Does the Captain know about this?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Not yet. I just finished the report as you came in." He inclined his head. "Perhaps you should be the one to tell her."

"Yes," Chakotay said, trying to assimilate the ramifications of this news. "Yes, I will." He stood. "Thank you, Doctor."

"My pleasure," replied the hologram.

As he left Sickbay, Chakotay contacted Kathryn through the commlink and told her he was coming to talk with her. "Ship’s business," he said, before she could try to beg off.

She was still in her quarters, in just about the same place where he had left her three hours earlier. "You need to see this report," he said, handing her the Doctor’s padd. "We’ve got a total of eight pregnant crew, including you. It’s the beginning of a baby boom, Kathryn. We’re going to have to make changes in policy, and not just for us.

"Eight," she repeated faintly. Her eyes quickly scanned the report. "My god. Does ‘Lenash’ mean ‘unstoppable sperm’ and the translator missed it?"

He laughed, heartened that she could respond to this with humor, and she looked so chagrined that he knew she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. "This means families, and family quarters, and day care arrangements. Once word gets out, there are others who have been waiting to start their families. It’s inevitable now."

"I suppose so," she said, not sounding at all happy about the prospect. "Well, the galaxy class ships managed, so we can find a way." She set the padd down on her work table and sat.

He sat in the chair opposite her. "We always do." He took a deep breath. He hadn’t thought through all of it, but there wasn’t time. What he had to say was best said quickly. "Kathryn, I want to talk to you."

She looked up, and then suddenly looked afraid, as if she knew what was coming. "Please don’t," she said quickly.

"You need to hear this," he insisted. "I told you before, I’ll support any decision you make, and I meant it. But it will break my heart if you terminate this pregnancy. I want this baby, almost as much as I want you. I don’t care that we didn’t plan it."

Kathryn drew a sharp breath. "That’s not what you said before."

"I know. I’ve had a chance to think about it." He wanted to reach for her hand, but sensed that touching her now would be a mistake. "I’ve spent a lot of years damping down my feelings for you, trying to pretend it was friendship."

"We are friends," she protested.

"Yes," he agreed, "and more." He walked over to her chair and hunkered down beside it, being careful not to touch her. "I know how hard this is for you, Kathryn. But when I look back at my life, the only decisions I regret are the ones I made in anger and death. The best ones didn’t have much more behind them that hope and trust – like deciding to be your first officer."

"It’s not that simple," she said in little more than a whisper.

"Yes, it is," he said quiet force. "You can terminate the pregnancy out of anger, and call it duty, or you can keep the baby and marry me, and we can raise it together. Maybe even make another one the old-fashioned way."

"Marry?" she said, shocked.

"Call it a leap of faith," he said, smiling. "We’ll need to show the crew that we’re committed to a stable relationship. We can do it, Kathryn, I know in my heart we can. We’ve had seven years to learn how to do it."

"That’s no reason to get married," she snapped.

Satisfied that he had her full attention, he stood. "No, we should get married because I love you, and I think that you love me, if you’d only admit it."

She stood, stunned, and tried to speak. No words came. He took a step toward her and she waved him back. "It’s too much," she finally said. "Two days ago, everything was normal. Today I’m pregnant after 7 years of celibacy, my best friend says he loves me and my first officer wants to marry me. It’s too damn much."

"It’s a lot," he agreed, and realized that she was very close to breaking down. "Just think about it, Kathryn, please." He headed for the door. "Remember what Lucky told us? To have faith. What if that baby is Lucky? Can we let her down?"

That felt like a low blow, partly because she’d been thinking the same thing ever since the Doctor had confirmed that Chakotay was the child’s father. "You’re not playing fair," she said.

"I don’t want to play fair," he told her. "There’s too much to lose. I love you, Kathryn. Please trust that."

She watched him leave, and stood there for a moment, trying to organize her thoughts. Then she went to her bath and ran cold water, splashing it on her face. Maybe we’ll get lucky, she thought darkly, and the Borg will come assimilate us all tonight and I won’t have to worry about this any more.

Tuvok said nothing when he read the message on his screen. Commander Chakotay had returned to the bridge before alpha shift ended, but had been preoccupied and distant. That, combined with the Captain’s absence, convinced Tuvok that something was wrong. The message from Janeway, asking to meet with him when the duty shift ended, was not a surprise.

She came to his office, and in a concise and unemotional way, briefed him on the current situation. He judged it implausible but not impossible. At the time of the event on Lenash, he had experienced an instinctual warning that he had not been able to articulate clearly. In light of the Captain’s revelation, he believed he now understood it.

"Have you decided what you are going to do?" he asked her.

"No," she said, and he saw that she was clearly divided in her thoughts. "On the one hand, I always thought I would have a child someday. And I don’t know how to tell Chakotay, who has lost every other member of his family, that this one won’t be born." She stood and paced nervously. "On the other hand, I have to think about my obligation to this ship and crew. And to the child, for that matter. I don’t think I can do justice to both responsibilities." She stopped , and looked at him. "I trust your judgment. What do you think I should do?"

He looked at her solemnly. "My opinion doesn’t matter here. Yours is the only one that counts."

"Please," she said, trying visibly to control her emotions. "I need help here."

"Then let us work through the issue," he said. "I would begin with the assumption that life is the favored state, and that any contrary position must be justified. Is that correct?"

She considered for a moment. "Yes."

"Then, the principal argument against life is that pregnancy and the subsequent responsibilities of motherhood would impair your ability to command," he said. "Are we in agreement?"

Again, she considered. "Yes."

"This argument is divided into three parts. First, that pregnancy would create physical restrictions that would affect your fitness for command. Second, that the responsibilities of motherhood would conflict with the responsibilities of command. Third, that the birth of this child would conflict with stated ship’s policy against adding to the ship’s population through childbirth."

A slow nod. "Yes, that summarizes it."

He steepled his fingers together, a sign that he was marshalling his logic. "The first seems exaggerated. The Doctor has told you that the pregnancy should be unremarkable. You should be able to function without limitation almost until delivery. The disruption thereafter would be largely a matter of personal choice."

She drew a breath, looked uncertain. "Yes, but there are no guarantees of that. Complications could set in at any time. And can you see me taking the ship into battle when I’m eight months gone and big as a house?"

"Sacajawea, the namesake of our shuttle, led the Lewis and Clark expedition on your planet when she was ‘eight months gone and big as a house,’" he reminded her. "As Captain, you have considerably less exposure than she did. For example, you are not permitted away missions until the safety of the mission has been confirmed. The risk of battle is one you face, pregnant or not."

Kathryn looked at him, floored. "Why does it sound so easy when you say it?"

"Logic," he stated. "Let us look at the third issue next. From what you tell me, the ship’s policy on childbirth is about to be challenged. Indeed, the policy will have to be changed unless you intend to order involuntary termination of these pregnancies."

"Of course not," she protested.

"That leaves only your second concern," he went on, "and I can offer no logical response to it. I can only speak to you as a parent. Before the birth of my first child, I, too, wondered if I could manage the responsibilities of my career and my obligations to my spouse and parents, and still be an adequate father to my child. I believe this is a common doubt of all new parents. What I discovered is that if one is willing to make the effort, there is room in life for all of these things. It is not easy. But it is possible."

She looked at him shrewdly. "Vulcans don’t endorse the termination of pregnancy, do they?"

"Only under very limited circumstances," he acknowledged, "however, your situation would fall within those parameters."

There was another long silence. He was quite comfortable with it; silence was often an indication of thoughtfulness. Finally she said, "Chakotay has suggested that we marry and raise the child together."

He nodded. "This is not surprising, given the obvious nature of the Commander’s feelings toward you, and you for him."

Kathryn almost choked. "Obvious?"

"Well," he said modestly, "perhaps only to me. I am a keen observer of humanity, as you know. There is still much I do not understand. For example, I gather that in spite of your feelings, you have reservations about such a union."

"Don’t you?" she asked, astonished. "The implications for the command structure are staggering."

"That also seems an exaggeration," he said calmly. "You and the Commander have been close friends for the past six and half years. You have already confronted the complications that arise from such a relationship between leaders and learned to deal with them."

Kathryn leaned back in her chair. "Do you really mean that? Oh, never mind, of course you do. But Tuvok, as my friend, and as a married man, what do you think? Does it have a chance?"

He thought of T’Pel, and he actually smiled - a small, private smile but real nonetheless. "Captain … Kathryn. There are no guarantees, not for Vulcans any more than for Humans. If we are very lucky, we find the person who was meant to complete us and be our mate. If we are very wise, we cast aside our doubts and commit to the relationship. And then, if we are very diligent, we make it work. That is all that we can do."

For the first time since the Doctor took her into her ready room, she felt her heart lift. "One last question. When Lucky was on board, did you have a theory as to her parentage?"

A year ago, he had skillfully avoided the answer to that question. Now he looked her in the eye. "I had no doubt," he said, "that she was your daughter, and the Commander’s."

Kathryn smiled. "Thank you, my friend," she said, rising. "You’ve given me a lot to think about."

The Prixin celebration began without the presence of the Captain. Neelix was not really expecting her after their earlier conversation, and as he predicted Commander Chakotay had stepped in and handled the opening ritual. The Commander seemed preoccupied, though, and his heart wasn’t really in the ceremony. When his part was done, he moved to one corner of the mess hall and stood in an isolation that was clearly desired.

B’Elanna Torres stood in the opposite corner, frowning as she studied her friend. Tom Paris brought her a glass of syntheholic wine and said, "Hey. This is supposed to be a party."

"Look at him," she said quietly, inclining her head toward Chakotay. While they watched, Terry Jenkins tried to pull him over to join a group but he waved her off with a forced smile. "That’s not like him. He usually enjoys Prixin."

Tom frowned, too. "He’s been like that all day. And the Captain didn’t bother to come to the bridge at all." He put his arm around her, a perfectly acceptable public gesture of affection at a Prixin gathering. "I wonder if it’s strictly between the two of them, or if we’re going to get bad news at the staff meeting tomorrow."

She winced. "That must be it. I wonder what it will be this time – angry aliens, or dangerous natural phenomena?" Then she slipped out of his embrace and grabbed his hand. "Come on," she said with determination, tugging him behind her.

They walked over to Chakotay without speaking to anyone else, not even Harry or Seven whom they strode past. B’Elanna was unmistakably on a mission. "Hey," she said to Chakotay, "you’re looking glum."

"Subtle," Tom murmured.

"Sorry," Chakotay said. "I’ve got a lot on my mind."

"I can see that," B’Elanna said. "Want to talk about it? Two ears, no waiting."

He smiled. "Thanks, but no. It will work itself out."

Then the mess hall doors opened and the Captain came in, or rather, the Captain made an entrance. Like most of the partiers she was in civvies, a deep blue dress cut simply, that made her eyes stand out and flattered her figure. Her hair was swept back in a more formal style than usual, accented by a single white flower. Just inside the doorway she stopped, and her eyes searched the room. The three people who knew she had been wrestling with a difficult decision saw at once that the decision had been made. There was no trace of the distraction or doubt of earlier in the day; she was calm and confident once more. Nothing in her demeanor gave a clue as to what the decision had been, however.

Her eyes found her quarry. With a fixed smile and many nods, she made her way through the crowd straight to the first officer. Chakotay stared at her, uncertain of what this meant.

She came to a halt directly in front of him. "Hello Tom, B’Elanna, happy Prixin," she said, not looking at them. To Chakotay she said, "You were right. I’m ready for that leap of faith if you are."

His eyes widened. "Here? Now?"

She smiled broadly. "Can you think of a better time? It is Prixin, after all. Everybody’s here, and Tuvok has command."

Chakotay’s own smile spread slowly. "There’s something I want to do first. Hold this, B’e," he said, handing his wine glass to B’Elanna. She took it with some confusion, and looked quickly at Tom to see if he understood any better than she. His expression was just as baffled.

By now, the room had hushes as everyone’s attention had turned to the two command officers. They all watched as the first officer cradled the Captain’s face in his hands. "I love you, Kathryn," he said softly, and she replied, "I love you," as he bent his head to kiss her. Almost immediately, the her arms encircled him and the space between them closed until there wasn’t room for a particle of light to separate them.

The silence of the room was broken by an occasional giggle or sigh, but the couple at the center of attention seemed oblivious to it all. The Doctor quickly snapped a holo-image for posterity. The kiss went on and on, until finally Tom Paris cleared his throat uncomfortably. The Captain stepped back, then turned around. The happiness on her face, matched by Chakotay, caused tears to sting B’Elanna’s eyes.

"Uh…happy Prixin," the Captain said, a little breathlessly. "We have a surprise for you all."

"Another one?" Harry Kim called out.

Chakotay grinned. "We know it’s not strictly traditional but – Neelix – we’d like to add a wedding to the festivities tonight."

"A wedding? A wedding?" Neelix repeated, so excited he could barely contain himself. "That’s wonderful! – a Prixin wedding is considered good luck – it’s wonderful."

His excitement was contagious, and the room began to buzz. Janeway called for their attention. "As of an hour ago, Chakotay and I are on 24 hour leave, and Tuvok is in command of the ship. I’ve asked him to perform the ceremony."

Tuvok stepped to the center of the room, an island of serenity in the midst of chaos. "If you are ready?"

She looked at Chakotay. "As we’ll ever be," she said. Together they moved in front of him. Tom and B’Elanna made sure they were nearest them on the right, along with Neelix, and the Doctor, Seven and Harry were closest on the left. The rest of the crew created a circle around them. "Wait!" Tom said suddenly. He reached into one of the large floral arrangements decorating the room and pulled out a long-stemmed rose. "Every bride should have flowers," he said, suddenly feeling shy.

She touched his hand in gratitude as she accepted it. Then she turned to Chakotay.

B’Elanna squeezed his hand and whispered, "You’re such a romantic."

Tuvok began, pitching his voice so that it could be heard easily throughout the room. "We are gathered here to serve as witnesses to the marriage of Kathryn and Chakotay, who today declare their intent to live together, from this day forward, as husband and wife."

Tom recognized the "short form" Starfleet marriage rite. He had heard his father perform it more than once. It wasn’t the most romantic of the approved ceremonies, but somehow it seemed right for these two. He smiled, and tightened his grip on B’Elanna’s hand.

"Kathryn, Chakotay, do you take each other as spouse, as partner and as helpmate, friend and lover, to live in trust and honor for all your days together?"

They looked at each other, no hesitation in either of them. "We do," they said together.

"Will you love one another, support one another in hardship, forgive one another in error, and comfort one another in sorrow?"

"We will."

"Do you pledge your continuing loyalty to this crew, recognizing that your duty to them is as sacred as your duty to each other?"

Tom was startled. That was not part of the ritual. He didn’t think the happy couple was expecting it either, but they both smiled as they responded. "We do," they said, still in unison.

"Then let the exchange of rings symbolize the promises you have made here today."

"Rings?" Kathryn repeated. She had forgotten all about rings in the euphoria of her decision.

"Rings?" Chakotay repeated, berating himself for not being prepared.

"Rings," Tuvok repeated, and opened his left hand to reveal two simple gold bands. Kathryn glowed at her old friend, and they each picked a ring and slid it on the other’s finger.

Tuvok continued, "Then, with the authority vested rather temporarily in me, I accept your declaration on behalf of those assembled here and acknowledge you to be husband and wife. You may kiss the bride – again."

"Wait!" Neelix’s cry interrupted the groom’s intent. "I don’t mean to intrude, but this is a Prixin wedding, and there is a special blessing for occasion we just can’t overlook." He carefully took the rose from the Captain’s hand and gave it to Seven, then placed both of the Captain’s hands in Chakotay’s. Then he sandwiched them between his own hands.

"In the midst of family, you begin your family," he pronounced, clearing his throat once. "May your nights be brightened by undying love, may your days be lightened by shared laughter, your enemies frightened by the strength of two, your joys heightened by children hereafter." His eyes were awash with emotion. "In the midst of family, you begin your family." Then he stepped back.

"Thank you, Neelix," Kathryn said softly, and kissed his cheek.

"Hey, not him," Tom joked. "The big guy."

She turned back to Chakotay, who looked around the room. "Anyone else?" he asked good naturedly, not expecting any more interruptions.

"Well, yes," Gerron said, and came forward. "As long as we are celebrating family – family weddings – there’s a Bajoran tradition we used in the Maquis." He motioned for everyone to join hands in a circle around the couple, and began to sing. A few of the other former Maquis joined in, forming three part harmony. The words were a simple blessing, but the melody was exquisite, and Gerron’s clear tenor was heartbreaking.

Chakotay’s arm slipped around Kathryn’s waist. "I think," he whispered, "that we are well and truly married."

"You better kiss me now," she whispered back, "before we find out about Bolian traditions."

He tilted her chin up with one hand and kissed her, almost reverently. The song finished and dissolved into applause. They both looked about and smiled. "Thank you all," Kathryn said.

"Yes," Chakotay said. "Thanks and I hope you’ll stay and have a great party. We only have 22 hours of leave remaining." He headed for the door, holding tight to Kathryn’s hand. Seven managed to return the rose to her as she went by, laughing.

"There should have been rice," Harry complained as they disappeared out of the mess hall.

"No." the Doctor said with a private smile. "No, Ensign, this was just perfect."

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