We were looking for spatial anomalies when we found it. Actually, Harry did. A small wormhole on subspace. Maybe a way home. Perhaps a short cut. But there's a saying that I try to keep in mind. . .don't count your chickens before they are hatched.
But it's such a morale booster, that we may be just a kick away from the heels of the wind.
The wind of home.
The questions then come up: Is it stable? Is it big enough for us to pass through? Where does it lead? For us to find these things out, we need to go there, a slight detour. Could it be worth it? Yes, it could be very much worth it.
Then again, I'm not counting my chickens. . .yet.
When we finally reached it, the highest magnification could barely register it. Come to find out, its only about thirty centimeters across. Much too small for the ship to pass through.
We sent a micro-probe into the wormhole. We figure that it is in a highly advanced form of decay, that it is ancient. Theorizing is fine, but as long as we can get a message through it, it wouldn't matter. Then the probe became stuck. So much for seeing where it would end up.
Then Harry discovered someone was scanning it. . . from the other side.
We decided to use the probe as a relay, which Harry and B'Elanna used to send a message through to whoever is on the other side.
Maybe they'll answer.
I think everyone was disappointed that we didn't receive a response immediately. I think Janeway was about to go to her ready room and do whatever it is she does when she's upset.
Then we received an answer. Origin. . .the Alpha Quadrant.
If we could only send a voice message. Let them know we're alive.
And coming home.
We found them. And we lost them. A Romulan ship. They think we're spying for the Federation. Hell, I'd probably assume the same thing myself. But, benefit of a doubt never hurt anyone, including the Romulans.
Janeway left, disappointment clouding her eyes. She left me the bridge.
The next day, we established communications with visual. Janeway appealed on emotional basis. I think it may have worked. The Romulan seemed sincere. Janeway told me to have the crew write messages, assuming that we'll be allowed to do this. (Pending, of course, what the superiors say to his request).
B'Elanna thinks she may have found a way to piggy back a transporter beam to their ship. We may be home a lot sooner. Abandon Voyager and transport the crew to the Alpha Quadrant. (Though I have to admit, I'd hate to abandon Voyager, especially while we're still in threat of Kazon assault.)
We experimented and beamed over a cylinder. The next step is to try a person.
So I joined Janeway and Tuvok in meeting our guest. Our ticket home, maybe. I do want to go home. But what would await us there? Especially for us outlaws, the Maquis?
The transport was successful, but we found a problem. The Romulan was from twenty years in our past. He suggested telling Starfleet to not start the mission that sent us all here. But the lasting repercussions. . .we have already had a profound affect on some cultures here in the Delta Quadrant. Not to mention, what would stop us Maquis from being brought here too, not just Voyager's mission. No, it just wasn't possible.
So back to our original plan, sending the messages along with him. He told us to look him up when we returned to the Alpha Quadrant. Janeway promised that we would because we will get home.
Janeway told me later that the Romulan had died four years ago, that our messages may not have reached home. But I'm an optimist. I tend to believe in the best.
There's always hope. And where there's a will, there is a way. We will get home.
I think Kathryn Janeway thinks that we've failed.
But we haven't.
We won't.
We can't.
**End Log**