The talks dragged on throughout the day. Kathryn listened to Admiral Ordan's droning voice with half an ear. When her turn came to take the podium and address the congress, she just barely managed to sound interested when she expostulated on the advantages of how a cultural exchange and sharing of technology could be beneficial to both the Surrans and the Federation.

"Therefore, it is with pleasure that we, on behalf of the Federation, grant Surra and its two inhabited moons full membership. All the conditions laid down by the United Federation of Planets have been met...."

There was applause from the floor as she stepped down the podium and Admiral Ordan took his turn. He listed all the benefits Surra would reap, benefits which included protection from warring worlds which had been the primary motivation for Surra's application. They had been under attack from a neighbouring world. Their peace had been undermined, and subservience to an order that disregarded their cultural identity and paid scant respect for dignity and their own particular pacifist notions was the principal motive towards union with a greater power. The United Federation of Planets was a federation within which Surra could conduct its social and political identity as an independent world. Their uniqueness was maintained and respected.

Kathryn shifted impatiently in her seat and once or twice she looked back to where Lenina Benar was sitting. Lenina was listening intently to Ordan, and Admiral Gordon, who was seated next to him, appeared ready to take his turn.

Kathryn thought of the old woman who’d erupted into her life and just as stealthily vanished again.

You will not have to walk alone

when once you see the flower of stone

The words kept repeating in her brain, a persistent hum like a melody that teased the conscience with its familiarity, over and over. Before she had time to ask what the woman meant, she had disappeared into thin air. Like a shooting star she had come and gone, briefly and brilliantly dazzling, yet leaving those who believed beyond what science dictated and where such belief was often met with scorn or skepticism, numb with wonder. Those who were touched were left with a vague sort of hope of the wish they made.

The old woman had gone, but not before leaving a cryptic message. What did it mean? Her road forward, without the man in her life who meant the world to her, was a lonely road. She knew that, even accepted it.  She missed Chakotay every day, thought about him every day. She knew that as long as she lived, she would never have closure. When they had been lost in the Delta Quadrant, her fiancé Mark had married by the time two years had passed, thinking and accepting that he would never see her again. Voyager too, had been declared missing in action and its crew presumed dead, until the Pathfinder project. But she wasn't Mark and to this day she questioned whether he’d ever loved her as deeply and completely as the love she felt for Chakotay. In her heart she knew she couldn't take the step that Mark had taken, and although she could never blame Mark and anyone who was caught in a similar situation and accepted that he had to get on with his life, it wasn't something she could ever consider.

Owen Paris had told her, "You may have to accept that Chakotay is dead, and mourn him..."

She refused to mourn. If she did that, it meant that she had lost hope. If she lost hope, her life would be one of despair.

The old woman had stirred something in her; her words were deep and mysterious and puzzling. What was the flower of stone? Where was such a flower, if indeed there were one as the old woman portended? Was it on Surra?

"Lenina, did you see the old woman who accosted me just before the intersection?" she’d asked when she  had caught up with the group again as the walked towards the Conference Hall.

Lenina had given a little smile.

"I did not see her but by your description, it must be old Nu'aru. She is quite harmless - "

"I was not afraid of her..."

"No, I do not mean like that, Admiral Janeway.  I must also tell you that you are indeed privileged. Nu'aru does not often touch anyone and when she does, her words always have hidden meanings..."

"I know. She told me - "

Lenina's hand went up.

"Please, Admiral Janeway, do not tell me or anyone else what Nu'aru said. It was meant only for you and the magic will be gone the moment you impart it to someone else before you have unraveled the mystery of her words."

"I...understand."

The men had looked askance at her but she ignored their obvious scepticism. Kathryn tried to picture Nu'aru's face. The detail eluded her, except for Nu'aru's silvery-white hair, like an impressionist painting, where only the impression of the image dictated the mood or the tone, even the message. They had continued in the direction of the Hall. After that, they had been too busy with the talks, and Lenina seemed to have forgotten all about Nu'aru. Kathryn wondered if Lenina did it deliberately. She obviously knew the eccentric woman and even believed that Nu'aru was prophetic. It was possible that Lenina herself may have been a recipient of Nu'aru's oracles. It wasn't as if they had stood alone at the intersection. There had been people milling about them, but they had been caught in a frame, frozen in a moment in which she and Nu'aru existed alone. The people had seemed oblivious of Nu'aru and probably considered her presence as normal.

When once you see the flower of stone...

Teasing, teasing...

Kathryn shook her head as the words of Admiral Gordon drifted to her. She gave a little sigh. She wanted to be back in her suite on the Pearston to think. Nu'aru's words were not so much a portent as it were a clear message, the order of it to be carried out.  If she saw the flower of stone, she should be doing something with it, but...where and what? How?

Gordon's voice jerked her to the present.

"Therefore members of the Ministry, Surra is now officially a member of the United Federation of Planets." Another round of applause followed and minutes later, Kathryn braced herself for the  banquet that would follow the conclusion of talks. She wasn't looking forward to it, but acknowledged that her lack of enthusiasm for the festivities was rooted in her own preoccupation with the import of the old woman's prophetic words.

***** 

Kathryn lay in bed that night, exhausted but still too alert to sleep. She was filled with great satisfaction that the official aspect of the visit had gone well, that the Federation could help a homeworld that needed assistance and that Surra would now share their technology in exchange for many other benefits. She was also glad it was over. She couldn't get back to the ship quickly enough to think about the day's events and especially about the mysterious white-haired Nu'aru.

Somewhere on Surra, there had to be a reference to a "flower of stone".  Kathryn had a vague knowledge based on conjecture about what was probably a sculpture. Her interest had been in painting, mainly, though not to the extent and talent of her sister. Nu'aru didn't know her at all, yet she had made her way unerringly to the only female member of the delegation to Surra. Was it a special flower belonging to the indigenous flora of Surra? Why would seeing the flower make her road ahead less lonely?

Kathryn shook her head as she got out of bed, unable to rest or fall asleep, despite her exhaustion. Slipping on the  burgundy terry robe that used to be Chakotay's, she padded quickly to the replicator.

She grinned after ordering "Coffee, black" in much the same way she had done on Voyager. Carrying the steaming cup with her to the small office where her vid-com was, she quickly accessed the flora of Surra. She grimaced as she took her first sip. It was hot and bitter. She had gone almost completely off coffee in the last two years and only rarely indulged.

Frame after frame of flowers appeared on the screen, with botanical names that were completely alien to her. She recognised none of the names and the flowers were exotic, some she had seen when they walked along the tree-lined plazas of the First City. They were beautiful, big, colourful and none of them triggered anything in Kathryn's memory as a vague reminder of something she had seen before. There were a few orchid-like blooms, but clearly they looked too exotic even though some rare orchids on Earth - a new variety had only recently been cultivated by Tuvok - also carried a tag of being exotic.

"I'm drawing a blank," she murmured as her eyes drooped and she had emptied her cup. "I'm talking to myself. What am I thinking?"

Idly flicking through the database of Surran lore and culture, she latched onto something interesting.

"Stupid Kathryn..." she murmured again as she accessed the events calendar for Surra and started a new search.

By the time she was back in bed, she knew she would never sleep. It was already 0500 hours. A trip to the holodeck might calm her. She washed, dressed and left the suite. By the time she was sitting on Breakfast Rock in her New Earth recreation, she felt calmer, drawing in deep breaths as the river rushed gently and the leaves from overhanging branches provided adequate shade. The thrill and impatience of getting to the First City had been unbearable, but here, she could pull herself back and let the sound of the water, the rustle of leaves and the far-off sound of birds centre her again.

She let her thoughts wander to Voyager, to Chakotay and to the last month on the ship. She had not been happy in the first weeks of her marriage. The knowledge that Chakotay married her to fend off Seven of Nine had rankled, and her own weakness for accepting his proposal when she knew the foundation of their marriage would not be a strong one, one built on trust and love and understanding, had kept her from making any overtures to him. She loved him desperately, and the times when there had to be physical contact between them, whether it was a spontaneous gesture or one they put up on for the benefit of the crew, became a supreme exercise in self-control.

Nights, when they returned to their quarters, were spent in silence. Going over the day's events and reading reports from various departments were sober and reserved. Both had been too aware of what they had done, and the resentment on her part still too close to the surface. Yet, her joy was internal, her heart singing a silent song of love she couldn't share with anyone. Chakotay would merely say "goodnight" before making off to his side and she only saw him again when he was already on the bridge and sitting in his command chair.

Many times she could see his hesitation, the urge in him to touch her cheek. He'd put his hand up, then lower it slowly with a sigh.

"Chakotay..."

"What is it, Kathryn?"

"We should dissolve this marriage. It's nothing but a charade..."

He had been unable to hide his consternation.

"No! No... I don't want to - to divorce..."

He had said the word as if it were something distasteful. He looked deeply unhappy, and she, unrelenting.

"We're not happy."

"I didn't expect to be, Kathryn, considering - "

"What, Chakotay?"

Another sigh escaped him; his hands hung at his sides and that, more than his voice and eyes, told her how defeated he appeared. Yet, he remained resolute about not wanting to end their marriage. They had hardly been married three weeks...

"Look, I'm sorry that there had to be a reason other than my feelings for you for this marriage. I'm sorry. It was unthinking and unfeeling of me. But I can't change it. I said it, though the spirits forgive me. I want us to remain together because despite everything, I love you. I haven't stopped since the first day I met you. It will not change..."

She had looked at him, saw only the love that lay exposed. How could she turn him away like she had done so many times?

"Then, let's be friends, for now, okay?" she had whispered hoarsely, reaching for his hand and pressing it to her lips. Chakotay had given her a  grateful smile, then nodded.

"Thank you, Kathryn, for giving us another chance."

She had so very badly just wanted to rest her head against his broad chest. Instead, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. After that day, he was happier, the air cleared between them. She had taken to kissing him goodnight, something that pleasured him so much that he prolonged the kiss. Slowly, gently, they explored their possibilities, kissing often, hugging, lying against him on the couch in the evenings. In the mornings she'd wake up to find him looking down at her, insisting that she enjoy breakfast with him before going on duty. She began to look forward to waking up that way, with Chakotay staring down at her, or his weight creaking the bed when he sat down next to her.

She knew that the time would come very soon that they would take the final step to make their union complete.

Kathryn gave a small sigh. Even now as she looked up at the sky, she couldn't believe that it had been impossible to trace Chakotay. Deep in the Gamma Quadrant, with Chakotay leaving his vessel for much needed shore leave. He had been alone, and the only thing they found down on Elora was his commbadge. There had been ripples of political unrest in the Eloran Star System and Chakotay's subsequent disappearance the result of an abduction, they claimed. There was no trace of him within ten sectors, and their long range sensors couldn't pick up any lifesigns of the Captain of the Serengeti.

She had gone alternately cold and hot when summoned to Hays's office after Chakotay didn't respond to her subspace message. The Serengeti had remained in the sector of the Eloran Star System for two weeks, during which they had searched frantically for its captain. In those days, her hope had been very high that they'd find him, but her own mission to Elora two months later had proved fruitless. The only traces were that he had been abducted by rival factions and that those factions had later all been wiped out. If that were so, those at Starfleet Headquarters argued, then where was Chakotay's body? Chakotay's body was never found.

How could someone vanish like that?

Believe that he died...

In the line of duty...

Missing in action, presumed dead...

She had refused to entertain the unthinkable. They had been home only two months and their devotion to one another had deepened. Chakotay would never leave her. He had committed himself to her - heart, mind and body.

"I will find you, Chakotay. I refuse to believe you're dead somewhere..."

It was as if he heard her words, full of passion and urgency. An image of just such a setting, when he had joined her on Breakfast Rock and where later they made love, came to her. He had looked clean-shaven that morning, his eyes devoid of dark shadows, a lilt to his voice.

”I love you, Kathryn," he said. He had taken her palm and pressed it against his chest. The words had been a vow, a deep expression of his commitment to her. Her eyes had filled with tears. Only the previous night, they had made love for the first time and she thought that a miracle had happened to them.

"A miracle happened..." she breathed, still too full of the sanctity of their union. "We're almost home and a miracle happened..."

"Am I forgiven, Kathryn?" he had asked, a sliver of doubt settling in his eyes.

They had become darker, with the old shadows darting in them, and she had marveled that he could look a little unsure of their new-found happiness, even more that he desired so intensely to be forgiven. Seven of Nine still lurked like a stealthy entity, a lifesign with self-awareness yet unseen between them. The former Borg had quietly, and with great dignity, accepted that the man she worshipped with such a childish fantasy was married to the captain of the ship and that he was happy with her. Kathryn had admired Seven of Nine who had, when they arrived on Earth, left for Vulcan for a year. Kathryn's resentment had long given way to pity and the reason for her anger towards her husband had dissipated. She had allowed it to sour what could have been meaningful from the outset for her and Chakotay. What was there to forgive? Her own foolishness and the intense desire to hurt him? She had given a sigh, touched his cheek gently, his eyes, with their dark shadows, closing at the soft caress of her fingers.

"There is nothing to forgive. I was at fault. The - the way you proposed...what I thought was your main motivation... It hurt me, I must admit. But I shouldn't have punished you with my bitterness..."

Her voice had faltered then and Chakotay had scooped her into his arms, holding her so tightly that she couldn't breathe for a moment, until he relaxed his hold on her. They had remained like that for several long minutes, quiet in the greatness of the hour. The sound of the river, the birds, the agitated low screech of the primate were just background noises, but completed the picture of peace.

"Once you asked me if I thought you could make me happy," he had said, his eyes heated as he remembered the night's passion. "I will always hunger for you, Kathryn. Every look, every nuance of movement, every whispered word of love, every time you say my name, I will feed on that. You - you cannot know how completely my happiness lies in your hands. It has made  me afraid, sometimes, but it has also lifted me to the highest peaks, because I know now that you will cherish that power..."

"You are a poet," she had whispered, her voice quivering with deep emotion.

Chakotay smiled tenderly.

"I am nothing without you..."

I am nothing without you...

Kathryn's thoughts rushed to the present. It was almost time to go. She rose from Breakfast Rock, smoothed down her uniform and prepared to leave. It was still early, but she'd have breakfast in her suite first before going planetside. She could feel her heartbeat quickening at the thought. As she exited the holodeck she murmured the words softly, like a vow:

You will not have to walk alone

when once you see the flower of stone

**********

"You asked to meet me here, Admiral," said Lenina Benar. The tall woman looked down on Kathryn, though her demeanour remained painfully polite.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me. You did indicate yesterday that you have more time now for the more pleasurable aspects of our stay here. I thought I'd ask you to accompany me to the Surran Art and Craft Exhibition."

"It will be my pleasure, I assure you. Surran art has always been valued very highly in this sector. One or two master craftsmen are stationed right here in the First City. They will most surely be on hand to showcase their craft."

"Then I'm glad I asked you, Lenina Benar."

"The other members of your delegation? They are not interested?"

Kathryn laughed, but the excitement surged inside her, her impatience growing by the minute..

"They'd rather study the planet's warp technology first before exploring Surra's cultural wealth."

"Which I am sure they have already done, Admiral Janeway," said Lenina as they boarded a transport to the great exhibition centre. "Does your visit to the exhibition have to do with old Nu'ara's sudden appearance yesterday?"

Kathryn glanced at Lenina, not really surprised. It had to be pretty clear to the Surran woman that Nu'ara's words had a great impact on her. She remembered Lenina's warning about not telling anyone of the nature of Nu'ara's message.

"I suppose I can say that it does. It was very enigmatic, I can tell you that. I'm not entirely sure that I'll discover the import of it at the exhibition. It's worth a try though..."

"Then I think you should explore all possibilities, Admiral Janeway."

Kathryn nodded and they continued the rest of the short trip in silence. Occasionally, she cast Lenina a glance, but the young woman looked, if anything, impassive to Kathryn. She wondered if Lenina knew something. Kathryn could see the dry landscape in the distance, a stark contrast to the city and its cultivated lawns, trees, and flowers. It was not unlike many planets she had visited, where terraforming was used first for the city limits. Since the city was virtually surrounded by a river, they had the water supply to keep the city and its immediate metropolis irrigated. They slowed down when they reached large buildings constructed almost entirely of glass. Kathryn frowned when they touched down, wondering if they had come to the right place. It looked more like a hothouse than an exhibition of arts and crafts.

"We're here..." said Lenina.

"I thank you, Lenina Benar."

"I think you are telling me you wish to go alone from here?"

Kathryn's mouth twisted at the corner as she nodded to Lenina.

"Please, do not wait for me. I will be hailing the Pearston when I'm finished. I know I could have beamed down to this place, but well..." Kathryn paused, the urge to tell Lenina everything about what the old woman said to her so great that she swallowed hard.

"You needed time to collect your thoughts. I know what you feel, Admiral Janeway. Sometimes, just slowing down eases the haste and makes all decisions worthwhile in the end..."

"You are very understanding, Lenina Benar. I will contact you again before we leave Surran space."

Lenina smiled gracefully, giving a little bow before getting into the shuttle again. Kathryn waited until she couldn't see the flitter anymore before she turned and headed towards the entrance of the great exhibition centre of Surran's Arts and Crafts.

"What will I see here?" she murmured as she entered through the great glass doorway.

***** 

There was an air of expectancy mingled with grave silence when she stood just inside the glass-panelled doors. There weren't many people around and she supposed that the early hour still kept many in their homes, while those present were probably fuelling their minds for the day. It was quiet and the first object that caught her eye was the massive centrepiece, a sculpture that reminded her of ancient Egyptian pharaohs. She walked towards it very slowly, taken in by the immense aloofness of the figure. The two persons who stood there moved away very quietly as they allowed her space to view the sculpture.

So what is it that I'm supposed to see?

She shrugged as she moved away from it and entered another room through an open archway. It was the Flower Room, according to the information she had downloaded to her PADD. The indigenous flowers of Surra were all single flowers on long stems. The first was a large, pink flower that reminded her of Earth's red hibiscus. Carved in the planet's own yield of minerals, the flowers were beautiful, so real that she was tempted to touch it. The vase was elongated and, supposed Kathryn, carved along the natural lines of the stalactite or stalagmite from which it was cut.

A flower of stone.

Is this what I'm looking for? she thought, walking slowly from one exhibit to another. Something she sensed was the fact of being alone in the large, air-conditioned Flower Room. Even though there were no other visitors, this feeling was different from the normal awareness when entering an empty room.

It was if everyone moved away in some kind of deference or knowledge that something was going to happen..

She stopped by every exhibit, marvelled at the realism of the carvings, hoping that one of them would signal something, an unbidden or unwritten, voiceless message.

Out of the corner of her eye she caught an exhibit that stood out a little from the rest of the others. Its  colour was different as she turned to face it. Kathryn frowned as she approached the stone flower. Something, an unknown force, drew her to it. Her feet carried her in a way that, however much she wanted to fight the inexorable pull to it, was impossible to disobey. Her heart pounded wildly; there was a buzz in her ears that suddenly cut off all other sounds. Had she gone temporarily deaf? The other flowers in the room receded. She sensed how, with the unusual stone flower, they formed a unit, an almost selfish realm in which only the two of them existed.

It was completely uncanny. She couldn't look around, her eyes glued to the single stemmed flower that perched majestically in its stone vase. A pink and orange rose, carved surely not with any hand on Surra, but by a miracle. It couldn't be anything else. It seemed the petals were still wet with tiny drops of dew that gave it its morning freshness. Pink and orange alabaster that was found nowhere on any planet except Earth.

A rose. An alabaster rose.

From a long way off the words of a conversation with Chakotay came to her.

"Kathryn, do you remember the rose I gave you once? The peace rose, with its velvety pinkish-orange sheen?"

"Yes, it was the day after we crashed in the Sacajaweya. I - I was dead for a few seconds..."

"That's the rose. I've been trying to recreate one in stone for you..."

"And?"

They had been lying in bed that morning, with Chakotay staring pensively at the ceiling. It was her birthday that day and she had not wanted anything.

"I'm afraid I don't have the talent..."

She had shifted on her side, to stare lazily down at him.

"Whatever you give me, will be the best thing you ever made."

"Now you're making fun of me. I can do sand paintings, but trying my hand at making a rose out of alabaster... It's beyond me, Kathryn."

"Oh, Chakotay... You are talented. Why do you belittle your own creativity so?"

"It's just that I wanted to use only hand implements and not phaser one into existence for you. You know what I mean - "

"I know exactly what you mean, honey. Whatever you've created, I'm sure I'll keep it forever. It's made of forever stone, right?"

Chakotay had given her a sad smile, then pulled her closer to hug her fiercely. When he released her after a few moments, he looked deeply into her eyes.

"It's too late. I trashed it..."

"Oh, Chakotay..."

So their conversation drifted to her. Why she hadn't made the connection instantly, she would never know. It was impossible to miss, yet she did. It could have been the unlikelihood of finding roses on Surra with its single mountain range and the absence of the kind of minerals that was found only on Earth. Only that one time had they talked about stone flowers. She had never seen the one Chakotay made, and even though he thought himself not equal to the greatest sculptors in the history of Earth, she was pretty sure that he must have produced a masterpiece. Only, Chakotay didn't believe it and for a mad, mad moment he didn't believe in himself. As a result, he destroyed what he created. The possibility of finding such a flower on Surra had never entered her head. Never. Was it all part of the whole spell? she wondered. She stared at the sculpture in front of her.

It was perfection in every single line, in every curve of every petal. No sliver or serration along the top edges of the petals was out of place or discordant. The pink fused magnificently with peach and light orange to give  it a pearly, oyster-like sheen. Even as she looked at it, it seemed to her that the petals quivered in some unknown breeze. Flicking on her tricorder, she scanned the flower for its mineral composition. Her heart raced as she studied the  readout. Seconds later, her gaze fixed on the rose again, shaking her head in disbelief.

"This can't be true," she murmured softly.

"We have been unable to locate the source of the stone used for the flower as well as the ore for the vase," a voice sounded behind her. She almost screamed as she swung round to face the owner of the voice.

"It's alabaster, from the Ural Mountains on my home planet, Earth," she whispered. "The vase is malachite..." She didn't know the tall Surran who stood in front of her, but she guessed him to be one of the two sculptors who lived in the First City.

"My name is Yohara Par," he said. "Yes, we have determined it to be an alien mineral, not from these sectors. We do not know how it came to be here..."

"The mineral?" she asked.

"And the sculpture," he replied.

"You did not make this?"

"That may be the word to describe what I do, Admiral Janeway. I make things and I know I am proficient at what I do. What you see here is a flower not of this world, created in exquisite perfection using material not of this world. Even if both were found here, I could not capture the realism of that flower. It is the expression of an art that has reached the highest of the high. It surpasses all knowledge, all comprehension. The person who made this is a creator, with talent that only a higher order could have bestowed. It is borne of an inner nobility that has been recognised and given a blessing, a confirmation and reward. No, I did not create that. Someone else did..."

Kathryn's initial surprise was replaced by the growing suspicion that she knew who was responsible for the flawlessly carved stone flower. She had not seen any such sculptures in her life, but she knew somewhere, somehow, Chakotay was involved.

"You know such a person, Admiral?" Yohara Par asked, as if he read her turbulent thoughts. She swallowed painfully as she looked at the stone flower again. Her whole being, every fibre, every nerve, every thought past, present and still to be formulated, was drawn and tied to it. Her turmoil receded slowly, the terrible longing for a husband gone three years, the bitter refusal to give up believing that he’d died, all seeped from her body. In her heart she knew now that Chakotay had left this for her. How he had done so remained a mystery, but now she didn't feel that loneliness that had walked with her for three long years. It settled inside her, peace, like the rose she was looking at, suffusing her being at last.

"I know such a person. I do not know if that person created this, Yohara. But I must find out..."

"You do not ask how it came here?"

The words struck her like a flash of lightning and her eyes widened. She had been so drawn to the beauty of the object that it had slipped her mind completely.

"No."

"A star traveller to these parts brought it here. She claimed it was created by a slave..."

"Slave?"

"More than that I cannot tell, Admiral, because more than that the traveller was not prepared to divulge. She said that it should remain on Surra and that one day the person looking for it would come. All I know is that old Nu'ara took one look at it and went into a trance-like state, after which she kept saying she must find the one looking for it..."

Find the one looking for it?

"I was never searching for this, Yohara."

"I know. But that is the way of old Nu'ara, always full of cryptic messages."

"So a star traveller brought it here from another homeworld..."

"Where the composition of the mineral is identical to that of your homeworld. I know not of such a world."

"You have already tried to discover its source?"

Yohara shook his head, his disappointment apparent.

"I should like to learn from such a man," he said quietly.

"If I may be allowed to take this on my vessel for further analysis - "

"It is yours. It was looking for its owner."

His words were so unwavering that she could not but believe the truth of them. Nu'ara was convinced that there was no person on Surra who could claim ownership. Was that why she focused on every newcomer to Surra? Keeping her eyes on the master craftsman Yohara Par, Kathryn hit her commbadge.

"Janeway to USS Pearston."

"Rollins here. What can I do for you, Admiral?"

"Lock on to this object and beam it directly to your science lab, Magnus," she ordered, flicking on the tricorder and giving Magnus the co-ordinates of the flower. In a second it dematerialised  in the transporter beam.

Yohara Par showed no surprise but his eyes lit up as Kathryn greeted him in the formal way of their race. She placed her hand against her breast and lowered her head. Then she hit her commbadge again.

"Janeway to Pearston. One to beam up."

***** 

END PART TWO

PART THREE