"You do not seem to understand," Tuvok said with all the patience he could muster. "Our Captain and First Officer have been missing for over 24 hours."

From the viewscreen, Station Manager Voes Mergy waved a hand. "Well, I couldn't do much about it then, could I? You didn't tell me until an hour ago."

"We did not know they were missing until then. I am requesting that you initiate a search now."

"And I have done that. Three security officers are looking for them."

"With all due respect, Manager, that does not seem sufficient to conduct a timely search."

Mergy shrugged. "It's standard procedure. I can't commit more resources until we have confirmed that your people are just off an their own. This was a honeymoon for them, didn't you say?"

"Yes, but I assure you, Captain Janeway would not fail to check in as scheduled unless she were being prevented from doing so. If you cannot commit your own resources, I am happy to volunteer personnel from Voyager to supplement your staff."

"Out of the question." Mergy leaned closer to the screen. "This station is the sole property of the Ventraxi Oligarchy, and any unauthorized security force will be considered a violation of access conditions and possibly an act of armed aggression."

"We have no intention of coming aboard without authorization. I am simply requesting that you give us permission."

"Oh." Mergy leaned back. "Well, I can't do that. I mean, I'm only a manager. You have to talk to a superintendent for that."

"Then I request that you put me in touch with a superintendent."

"I can't do that, either. All contacts with superintendents must come through a manager."

Tuvok stared the screen for five full seconds before speaking again. He needed the time to master his rising anger. "Have you made such a contact?"

"Well, no. Why would I?"

"Because I am requesting it."

"Oh. You should have been more clear. If that's what you want, I'll contact Superintendent Lerstev. He has jurisdiction for the Station."

Tuvok inclined his head. "Thank you." He paused. "If we cannot assist you in the physical search, we may be of use in reviewing records of your security cameras."

"Yes. Well. That could be a problem. The records are routinely purged after 24 hours. They may no longer exist."

"I see. Please notify me at once if you learn anything." He made a gesture to Harry Kim, who ended the transmission.

Tom Paris made a rude sound. "Of all the petty bureaucrats…"

"Yes." Tuvok's face was set in a deep frown.

"What are we going to do?" Kim asked. "We aren’t going to let him get away with that, are we?"

"We cannot send a security team. That would likely result in our expulsion from the station, and that would severely compromise our ability to locate the Captain and the Commander. For the moment, we must appear to be resigned to the bureaucracy." Tuvok steepled his fingers in thought for a moment, then stood. "Mr. Kim, I want you to make contact with all of our personnel currently on the station. Ask them to … keep their eyes open. Discreetly, of course. There must be no incidents."

"Understood."

"And then, Mr. Kim, I want you to run a deep level scan of the station."

Harry looked up in surprise. "But sir – won't that violate the access agreement?"

"Only if they learn of it." Tuvok looked at him blandly. "Are you up to the challenge?"

"Yes, sir."

*****

Kathryn woke abruptly, passing from unconsciousness to full alert in the space of a heartbeat. At first she was disoriented, expecting to be in her own bed and realizing that she wasn’t in a bed at all, but lying on a cold, hard surface. Alarmed, she sat up and saw that Chakotay was sprawled on the floor beside her.

A quick touch of his hand assured her that he was warm and alive. Leaning close to his ear, she tried to wake him. "Chakotay. Chakotay, do you hear me?"

The transition to consciousness was as sudden for him as it had been for her. His eyes flew open and he sat up. "What happened? Where are we?"

"I don’t know. The last thing I remember, we were on the Ventraxi space station."

He nodded. "We went into a tavern and tried their version of decaff. Then…that’s all. I don’t remember."

"Neither do I. The coffee must have been drugged. I remember, it was so sweet it was cloying." She leaned back, listening. "Hear that? We're near a power source, probably engines. I think we’re on a ship of some kind."

His mouth set in a thin line. "Kathryn, I think we’ve been shanghaied."

Her expression turned grim. It was a tradition as old as ships; captains in need of crew would abduct unwilling or unsuspecting sailors and force them into service. On Earth in past centuries, the military called it "impressment" and merchants called it "recruiting" but the sailors themselves named it after the port where it occurred most often, Shanghai. The practice was not unique to Earth or to sea-going ships. The Orions had turned it into an art form in the last century, before Starfleet put a stop to it.

She rose to her feet and began to pace. A bubble of anger began to grow in her chest. "It’s almost cliché, isn’t it? That friendly toy seller, the out-of-the-way tavern, the 'old family recipe.' If we saw it in a holo-vid, we’d be howling with laughter. We should have seen it coming." Her hands clenched into fists. "My god, a first year cadet could have spotted it. What were we thinking?"

"We were thinking that we could find a decent cup of coffee," he said mildly. "Stop kicking yourself. It’s bad for the baby and it’s a waste of time. We need to think about how we’re going to get out of here."

The bubble of anger started its way up her throat and then burst harmlessly. She took a deep breath, and laid a hand on her expanded waist. "You’re right." Her eyes fell on his chest. "They didn’t take our commbadges."

"They may not know who we are. Or they don’t care." He hit his badge. "Chakotay to Voyager." There was no response.

"We’re probably out of range." She leaned against the wall of the cell and ran her hands over the gleaming surface. It felt slick, almost frictionless, and its coolness helped calm her. "We need more information."

Before he could reply, a voice echoed in the room. It was either artificial or electronically modified, and was set at an uncomfortably high volume. "Step away from the door."

Wincing, Chakotay moved to stand beside Kathryn. The door slid upward, and a man walked in. He was not armed, but the two who stood behind him were.

The man smiled as he looked at them, but it was obviously to gloat rather than put them at ease. He was not much taller than Chakotay, but thin to the point of gauntness. His pants, boots and shirt were unrelieved, deep gray that contrasted with his short silver hair and made him seem even taller. It wasn’t his clothing or his build that made him seem intimidating, though. It was the aura of authority that emanated from him, an aura that told Kathryn that this was a man with power.

He walked back in forth in front of them, looking them over. He slapped a thin baton in his hand as he studied them. Kathryn had the distinct impression that he was trying to spook them into speaking first, and she had no intention of being spooked. She folded her arms across her chest and waited. Chakotay stood unmoving but tensed beside her.

"Very good," the man said at last. "No hysterics, no threats of violence. I’m impressed."

"There doesn’t seem to be much point," Chakotay said. "You’ll tell us what you want us to know."

"Quite right." The calm acceptance seemed to knock him off his stride a little, Kathryn noticed with satisfaction. Then without warning, he struck Chakotay across the face with the baton forcefully enough to open a cut on his cheek and send him staggering back.

With a gasp, Kathryn reached to help him, but he shook off her assistance. Ignoring the blood on his face, he looked squarely at their captor. "Why?"

"A lesson. My name is Maygar. Remember it. The two of you have just entered the Ventraxi workforce as laborers under my supervision. My personal and constant supervision. If you please me, you will survive quite nicely. If you displease me, you will not. It is that simple."

"I don’t understand."

"That was clear enough. You will now be taken to your work areas. Work well during the day, and you will be reunited at night."

Instinctively, Chakotay's arm went around Kathryn. "No."

Before Maygar could react, she said quickly, "Yes." Giving her husband a hard look, she went on, "We'll do as we're told. You heard him, we'll be together tonight."

"Your hopeful mother is wise. I suggest you listen to her." Maygar slapped the baton against his hand again. "You will be of no use to her or your child if you do not."

Chakotay took a long breath, then nodded.

"Good. What is your name?"

"Chakotay."

"Unusual. Nobia Province, I expect. Go with this guard, Chakotay. And your name, wise one?

"Kathryn."

"Also unusual. Go with that guard, Kathryn. Work hard, both of you, and obey, and your baby will do well." His smile was malevolent as they left the cell.

******

"What exactly are we looking for, Neelix?" Naomi Wildman asked.

Neelix frowned slightly. "Well, anything really. Anything that might help us find the Captain and the Commander. Just keep your eyes open."

Naomi looked around the Gallery as they walked. There were so many shops, and so many people, she didn't know how they would ever find Captain Janeway. Then she stopped. "Neelix," she said in a low voice, "there's that woman again. She's following us."

Without looking down, Neelix spoke just loudly enough for her to hear. "Where is she?"

"To your right, over by that jewelry kiosk."

The Talaxian stopped walking and bent down, as if he were picking something up off the floor. "I see her. You're right, Naomi. It's the same woman."

"She keeps looking at me funny. It makes me nervous."

He nodded. This was the fourth time they had spotted the woman in the green dress in the past hour. She was definitely following them. "I think we should report this to Commander Tuvok. Let's go back to the turbolift."

Taking Naomi's hand firmly in his, they turned and started back. Suddenly a scream rang out in the Gallery. "My baby!" a woman yelled hysterically. "He's taking my little girl!"

They turned just in time to see the woman in the green run across the corridor and hurl herself at Naomi. The force of the impact knocked Neelix's hold loose and the woman and Naomi tumbled to the floor away from him.

Naomi began to scream. "Neelix! Neelix!"

The woman was crying. "My baby, my baby! Help me!"

Neelix tried to pry the woman loose, but she had Naomi locked in a death grip. A crowd surrounded them, making uneasy noises. "Somebody help me," Neelix said, shouting above the frantic woman to be heard. No one moved.

Two station security guards pushed their way through the ring of bystanders. One of them pulled Neelix away from the woman. "What's going on?"

"He was taking my baby!" the woman shouted, crushing Naomi against her.

"That's not true. We've never seen this woman before, have we, Naomi?"

"Leave the child out of it," the guard said angrily. "Do you claim this is your daughter?" His tone made it clear he would not believe such an assertion.

"My goddaughter. We're from Voyager. You can ask Manager Mergy, he knows me."

"Yeah, everyone knows Mergy." The guard helped the woman to her feet. "Are you all right, ma'am?"

"I will be as soon as I get my baby to safety," she said.

"I am not your baby!" Naomi shouted, trying to push away. "Let me go. You're a crazy lady!"

The guards looked at each other uncertainly.

"He's done something to her!" the woman wailed. "My poor baby."

Neelix had just about enough. He hit his commbadge. "Neelix to Voyager. Beam Ensign Wildman to this location, now. And I mean now!"

Whoever was on duty took him seriously, because he heard the shimmer of the transporter beam while his voice was still echoing. Sam Wildman took shape, and Naomi let out a whoop. "Mom!" She wrenched herself free of the woman in the green dress. She flung her arms around Sam and clung for dear life. "This is my mother," she shouted tearfully at the guard. "This is my mother."

Sam held her daughter protectively. "Neelix, what's going on?"

"No," the woman in the green dress said. Her shoulders sagged and her face seemed to crumple. "No, it isn't fair. It isn't fair." She began to sob into her hands.

One of the guards put an arm around her and led her away. The other one turned to Sam and Naomi. "Sorry. Looks like another case of Premature Transition. We'll take care of her." He began to shoo the crowd away.

"Neelix, what happened? What was all that about?"

"I don't know, but we should get back to the ship." He smiled at Naomi, who was shaking visibly even as she held on to Sam. "I know I could use some hot chocolate. How about you?"

The girl nodded. Even though her chin was quivering, she did not cry. Neelix patted her head, smiled, and placed her between Sam and himself as they returned to the docking port.

******

The armed guard led Kathryn down the corridor to a turbolift and requested Beta Section. She said nothing, hoping she looked so cowed they would not watch her closely. In reality, she was trying to memorize as much as she could about the layout of the ship and its technology. The turbolift looked similar to those on the old Constitution-class ships, like the old USS Eagle that was still used in training simulations at the Academy. If the rest of the technology was of the same vintage, they might have a chance.

On Beta Section, she was taken to a large door and waited docilely while the guard disabled a force field. The controls were again similar to the antique ships used in training. She began to feel better about their situation; at least they did not have to deal with technology they did not understand.

The guard led her into a large room, about the size of a cargo bay. It was filled with tables, and most of them had four women sitting around them, working with some kind of equipment. "Misama," the guard called, and at the only table with one occupant, a woman lifted safety goggles to look at them. "Orient this new one. Her name is Kathryn."

Misama rose awkwardly. She was heavily pregnant, and waddled over to them. "Come with me," she said, keeping her eyes lowered. She took Kathryn to a cabinet and began opening drawers. "You'll need gloves, goggles, cleaning solution, and bins."

Kathryn did as she was told, but said, "I don't understand."

"This is the finishing room. It's our job to clean the stones so they can be graded."

"What stones?"

Misama cast a quick, frightened look at the guard. "Vicolumbite. Talking is discouraged."

Kathryn looked at the guard, who was still watching them. She gathered up her supplies and followed Misama back to the table. The dark-haired woman, who seemed to be about Kathryn's age, showed her quickly how to dip the dust-covered stones in the cleaning solution and wipe until they gleamed a deep, crystalline purple. The clean stones were then placed in one of four bins, depending on their size.

After about half an hour, the guard seemed satisfied and left the room. Misama relaxed at once. "I'm sorry," she said, "but I can't risk angering the guard. I'm too close to term to make them angry."

"I understand. But what are we doing here? Who is Maygar?"

"He runs this place. He's fair enough if you obey him but if you don't…" Misama shivered. "That's not his real name, of course, but no one knows who he really is. He's making a fortune in illegal vicolumbite." She held up a stone, examining it for any remaining trace of dirt. "Pretty, isn't it? So many people want it so badly that they're willing to pay anything for it."

Kathryn looked at the stone. It was beautiful, the color of an amethyst with the inner fire of a dilithium crystal. "Where does he get it?"

"I don't know, and I don't intend to ask." She leaned forward and spoke softly. "The only chance we have of getting out of here alive is if we don't know too much. Right now, there is nothing I could tell the authorities that would lead them to this ship even if I wanted to. I intend to keep it that way." Suddenly her face changed, and she put a hand on her belly. "Oh, that was a good one. He's getting anxious."

Kathryn stared at her. "Do you mean – was that a contraction?"

Misama smiled ruefully. "No, just a good, strong kick. He takes after Bry – my partner. He was a swimmer, back on Oria." Her expression turned sad. "All my life, I dreamed of having a baby. It took us so long…I dream about him now, you know? I'm holding him while he sleeps, and he wakes up and looks at me. His eyes are green, like Bry's, and when he smiles he looks just like him." She shook her head as if to shake out the thoughts. "Well, you know what I mean."

No, I don't, Kathryn thought. This baby isn't real to me. Why don't I feel more like she does? She smiled nervously, hiding her thoughts, and looked around the room.

For the first time, she realized that every woman in the room was pregnant. Many looked as close to term as Misama, others seemed only as far along as Kathryn herself. "This can't be a coincidence."

"Of course not. Only hopeful mothers and their partners can handle vicolumbite once it is freed from ore - that assures its powers of fertility." Her eyes narrowed, suddenly suspicious. "Where are you from?"

"Nobia," Kathryn said quickly, remembering Maygar's assumption. "I - I just never actually believed the legend, that's all."

"It must be true, or Maygar wouldn't dare kidnap us all. Careful, here's the guard. Just keep cleaning and don't speak unless you're spoken to first."

Kathryn glanced up, then quickly lowered her gaze. It was the same guard who had brought her to the room. So far, she realized, she had seen only two guards and Maygar. Was that a coincidence?

******

Tuvok reminded himself that he was a master of the Kohlinar and more than capable of controlling his impatience. The reminder was necessary as he spoke once again with Station Manager Mergy. "The unfortunate incident on the Gallery simply proves that your security force is already quite busy."

"We’re doing everything we can." Mergy’s voice, which had merely grated before, became a nasal whine.

"I understand the limitations on your resources, but time is passing," Tuvok said. "Our officers have been missing for nearly two days. I renew my request to search the station with my own personnel."

"I told you, I can't authorize that."

"Then speak with someone who does."

"I have. Superintendent Mil Lerstev is on his way here."

Tuvok breathed in slowly through his mouth, exhaled through his nose. The Ventraxi station manager would try the patience of Surak himself. "You told me that yesterday."

"And it was true then, too. He's a day closer now."

"May we speak to him while he is en route?"

Manager Mergy smiled. It was very similar, Tuvok noted, to the expression on Mr. Paris's face when he challenged a newcomer at Sandrine's to a game of pool. "No."

"Why not?" He heard the impatience in his voice, mastered it.

"Because Superintendent Lerstev said so." Manager Mergy stood. "If there is nothing more, Lieutenant Commander?"

"There is something more." Tuvok fixed his gaze on the rabbit-like face of the manager. "The crew is very distressed about the lack of interest in finding our Captain and First Officer. If I cannot convince them that an appropriate level of effort is being made to find them, they may attempt to take matters into their own hands. I am only one man; I cannot deter 150 trained Starfleet officers who are armed and angry."

He would meditate later on the emotional reaction that caused him to threaten and prevaricate. For now, he was satisfied with the sudden flash of alarm in the Manager's eyes. "I – I told you yesterday, such an action would be considered armed aggression."

"And correctly so."

Mergy squared his thin shoulders. "Are you threatening me?"

"Not at all. It is my fervent hope that any violence can be avoided. I am merely suggesting a means to accomplish that end."

The Manager's thin face took on a sour expression. "I'll try to reach the Superintendent and notify him of your concerns. But I remind you, Commander. Your access agreement expires in 72 hours, and I feel certain it will not be renewed. If you remain, it will considered a hostile action."

"Let us hope it does not come to that, Manager." Tuvok stood to emphasize his point. "Voyager possesses technology that exceeds that of your station. I would regret a demonstration of that fact just to make our position clear." He made a slashing gesture and Harry Kim terminated the connection.

Tom Paris turned in his chair, his expression grim. "I know you didn't mean that, Tuvok, but there's a lot of us who feel just that way."

Tuvok returned his gaze steadily. "Why do you assume that I did not mean exactly what I said, Mr. Paris?"

******

After several hours of work, a red light began to flash in the cargo bay. "It's the end of the work shift," Misama said as she stood and began to gather her gear. "We return to our quarters now. Your partner will meet you there. A meal will be delivered. When the signal flashes, it is the warning for sleep. You will have only five minutes to get ready for bed. "

They fell into a single file and marched into the corridor. The two guards stood, weapons in hand, and watched as the women dutifully turned to the right and kept walking. About 300 meters past the work room, they reached an area lined with doors. Women began peeling out of line, going one by one into the different doors.

Kathryn realized that she had no idea which door was hers. She turned to a guard. "I'm new," she began, but got no further. The guard struck her across the jaw with the butt of his weapon, sending her staggering.

"No stopping," he said. "You will be instructed on your quarters."

With an effort she quelled her anger and her need to retaliate. Rubbing her jaw, she got back into line and resumed walking. Her tongue confirmed that all teeth were still intact, and nothing seemed to be broken.

When the time was right, that guard was going to be sorry.

There were still about twenty women in line when the same guard poked her in the arm with the barrel of his weapon. "You. This is your cell. Number 87. Remember that."

She turned her head and looked at him evenly. He had a face like a pug terrier, squashed and unlovely. Then she told herself the comparison was insulting to dogs everywhere.

The cell was small, with nothing more than a bed, a small table with two chairs, and a little chest of drawers. There was a door that she assumed led to a bathroom, and that was it. Opening the drawers, she found two large nightshirts and a collection underwear for both sexes. Their captors apparently believed in clean clothes, at least.

Exploration done, she sat on the bed and realized that she was worried. Misama had said that the men would be waiting. Where was Chakotay? Why wasn't he here?

After a minute, she could no longer stand to sit. Prowling around the room, she began to look for…anything. She had no idea what she was looking for, other than anything that might be of use. The walls of the cell were the same slick, frictionless substance as every other wall she had seen that day. Running a hand over it, she looked closely at the lavender shimmer that reflected off the light.

"Vicolumbite," she said aloud. After spending hour after hour cleaning the purple stones, she felt qualified to identify it now. But why would anyone bother to develop a coating made with a fertility aid? And to put an already pregnant woman in the room?

Where was Chakotay?

She began to pace, trying to dispel the nervous energy that was building within her. It was easier before. It didn't matter so much.

Midway through her seventh circle of the room, the door opened and Chakotay stepped in. He was streaked with dirt and sweat and looked exhausted, but she didn't care. With a sound that might have been a half-swallowed sob, she hurled herself at him. His arms closed around her, and they stood in silence, just holding each other.

Finally, when she could trust her voice again, she said, "Rough day?"

"There's an ore processing plant two levels down. I've been shoveling all day." He squeezed her gently. "What about you? Are you all right?

"Fine. They're very considerate of the hopeful mothers." She stepped back and smiled. "Don't be offended, love, but you need a shower."

To her surprise, his face darkened and his eyes suddenly flashed with anger. Then, as he placed a hand under her chin and turned her face to one side, she realized that she must be bruised where the rifle butt struck her. His voice was soft and low and without inflection, which was always a danger sign. "You call this considerate."

"No," she said lightly, "I call it a bruise. Nothing more."

"Who?"

"The pug-faced guard. I only saw two guards today, Pug-face and the tall one. Did you see any others?"

He was not to be distracted. He held her face for another five seconds, then traced a finger softly over the swollen flesh.

Kathryn caught her breath. Even though he had said nothing, she knew that he had vowed revenge.

"No others," he said, letting her go so abruptly that she was briefly confused. "Just those two."

"Go on, grab a shower. We'll talk when you're clean." She felt oddly shaky inside, and didn't know why. She sat in the room's only chair and listened while the sonic shower ran. In less than five minutes, he came back to the room, a towel wrapped around his waist. "That must feel better."

He nodded. "Yes, but I really don't want to put those clothes back on."

"In the drawers – there's some nightclothes and underwear."

As he rummaged through the drawers, the towel dropped to the floor. In spite of their circumstances, Kathryn found herself smiling as she looked at him. He turned in time to see the expression on her face. ''What?"

She shook her head, but she was smiling. "Nothing. It's just still hard to believe that anything that beautiful can be mine without guilt."

"I am not beautiful." He was grinning in spite of his words.

"Trust me, you are."

He tossed aside the shirt in his hands and advanced on her. With a sudden move, he flung himself on the bed and pulled her along with him, so that they were pressed against each other on the bed. "You're the one who's beautiful," he said softly, and kissed her deeply.

Her arms came around his neck as her body responded to his touch. He kissed her again, this time softly and persuasively.

"Oh," she sighed against his ear, "I love you." Then her command instincts reasserted themselves, and she sat up. "You are trying to distract me, and it won't work."

Lying back on the pillow, he grinned up at her. "Are you very sure of that?"

"Yes." She got up, fetched the shirt he had dropped and threw it to him. "Get dressed. We have work to do."

He pulled the nightshirt on and sat up. "Yes, ma'am."

A tray of food was delivered by the tall guard a few minutes later, and they sat at the table and talked as they ate. "My orientation was simple," he told her. "They handed me a shovel and said go to it. All we do is shovel rocks and ore into carts. It’s been a long time since I did that kind of labor."

"Are the men as …accepting of this situation as the women seem to be? I don’t understand it at all. None of them seem to be outraged by captivity. Either they are completely cowed or this is some cultural reaction."

"A little of both, I think. From what I can tell, the Ventraxi are raised to be both courteous and deferential to authority. It sounds like the Oligarch runs a tight ship."

She told him about the women's job of cleaning the stones. "It's called vicolumbite, and the best I can figure out is that it's some kind of fertility enhancer."

"That's right. I was able to talk a little with one of the men. Apparently there's an increasing number of Ventraxi who have trouble conceiving, and vicolumbite is said to cure infertility. He thinks we are prisoners of some kind of black market."

"What about the technology? I didn't seen anything that matches our own."

"Agreed. At best, it's about a century behind ours."

The meal consisted of some kind of meat they didn't recognize, a vegetable casserole, and a peach-like fruit. There was also a glass of milk clearly intended for Kathryn. "I told you they are considerate of us," she said, lifting the glass. "Calcium."

He ate the casserole and the fruit, but left the meat. "If we have too many days here, I might have to," he said, "but I'm not that hungry yet." Seeing the covetous gleam in her eye, he pushed the small cut of meat to her plate. "Take it."

Seizing it eagerly, she began to cut it into pieces. "Only because I'm eating for two." The she looked up. "Do you think Voyager is looking for us yet?"

"We were supposed to call in hours ago. You know Tuvok. He's looking."

Later, they lay in bed in their cell in total darkness. "Lights out" was a concept their captors took very seriously; the power had gone out abruptly, leaving them in a blackness so complete that Kathryn hoped she did not have to use the head during the night. Chakotay had peeled off the nightshirt; he never wore nightclothes to bed. She lay with her head cradled in the crook of his shoulder.

"It's just two guards," she said softly. "If you can get some of the others to work with us, we can probably overpower them."

"Let me talk to the men. I don’t think the women are exactly in shape for hand-to-hand fighting."

She sighed. She’d forgotten again. The limitations imposed on her by the pregnancy were frustrating.

He heard the sigh, and seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. His hand reached to caress her face. "I wish it wasn’t so hard for you."

Tears stung her eyes, and she willed them back. Misama's simple dreams of her child suddenly rang in her ears, and she felt empty. "I think there’s something missing in me, Chakotay. Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a mother."

"I don’t think that’s the problem." His hand reached down and settled on her rounded belly. "You haven’t really had a chance to come to terms with everything that’s happened. Give yourself more time."

"But what if I never come to terms with it? What if … what if I never learn to love this baby?"

"Maybe you shouldn’t think of it as a baby. Think of it as a particularly annoying member of the crew." Even in the dark, she knew he was smiling. "You know how you feel about the crew, even Herron and Hickman."

"I’m serious."

"So am I. It’s going to be fine."

"How can you know that?"

His hand came back to her face, and he pressed a kiss against her temple. "Because I know you. Once you have her in your arms, when you can see her and touch her, she’ll be real to you."

She considered this, tried to imagine it. The picture in her mind didn’t quite come into focus, but at least she could almost see it. She sighed again. "I’m glad you’re here with me."

His arms tightened around her. "So am I. Oh, gods, Kathryn, so am I."