Janeway traced slow, soothing circles against Astrea's back, rocking gently as she cradled the baby in her arms. The soft glow of the nearby nebula cast shifting patterns of light across the room, blending with the ever-present hum of Voyager's systems. The ship carried on around them, but inside these walls, it was just the two of them.

"I think it's time I tell you a story," she murmured. "It's an old one—one I don't think I've ever told anyone else. But I want you to know it."

She adjusted her grip, holding Astrea just a little closer.

"There was a time, not so long ago, when I thought I might spend the rest of my days on a planet far from here. Just me, Chakotay, and a monkey who owned the place. But we named it New Earth."

Her lips curled slightly at the memory. "That monkey was the noisiest creature I'd ever met. He watched me constantly, like he was waiting for me to figure something out—something he already knew. Although I didn't always see him, I am sure he was close. Maybe he was right to."

She sighed, shifting her gaze toward the stars.

"I tried everything to find a cure. Every day, I kept trying. But there was Chakotay, calm as ever, building shelter, making sure we had what we needed. He even built a bathtub. Can you imagine? He always had a way of grounding me, reminding me to live in the moment. And for a while, I did. I let myself breathe. I let myself believe it wasn't the worst thing in the world to stop fighting."

She glanced down at Astrea, brushing her fingertips along the baby's fine hair.

"During that 4 months, the crew was able to contact the Vidians and get a cure. When the time came, I hesitated. For just a moment. I stood looking at everything we had built, the little garden, at the life we had made, and I wondered what it would mean to leave it behind. But I knew where I belonged. I left the bathtub. I left the monkey. I left everything we had built there because Voyager was my home. Because my place was with my crew."

She exhaled, something softer settling into her voice.

"I've spent my life moving forward, reaching for what's next, never stopping long enough to wonder if something else was reaching for me." She looked down, her throat tightening. "But you, little star—you make me want to stop. Just for a little while. Just to hold on to this."

Astrea made a soft sound in her sleep, her tiny fingers flexing against Janeway's uniform.

Janeway smiled, pressing a kiss to the baby's forehead.

"You'll meet Chakotay when the time is right," she whispered. "For now, just Seven, Tuvok, Tom, B'Elanna, Samantha, the Doctor, and little Naomi know about keeping you."

A soft chime signaled the door.

Janeway took a slow breath, adjusting Astrea in her arms. "And right now, you're about to meet Samantha and Naomi."

"Come in."

The doors parted with a soft hiss, and Samantha Wildman stepped inside, her eyes immediately widening at the sight before her. Naomi stood just behind her, shifting on her feet, her gaze flicking from her mother to Janeway with quiet curiosity.

Samantha hesitated for a beat before stepping forward. "Captain, I—"

Janeway huffed a quiet laugh. "Please call me Kathryn right now we are both off duty, Samantha." She adjusted Astrea in her arms and gestured toward the couch. "Come sit."

Samantha obeyed, still looking a little stunned, but Naomi slipped in beside her, wide-eyed as she peered at the baby.

Janeway exhaled, settling into the chair across from them. "I need help."

Samantha's expression softened instantly—concern, understanding. "Of course," she said softly. "What do you need?"

Janeway glanced down at Astrea, brushing a gentle hand over the baby's back. "I love her. That much I know. But I also know I can't be with her every moment, not when I have a ship to run." She hesitated, then looked back up. "I trust you, Samantha. And I was wondering... if you'd be willing to be with her when I can't be. Not as a duty, not as an assignment—just... as someone I know will care for her. We would lessen your regular duties so that you wouldn't be working double, and you could spend more time with Naomi."

Samantha's lips parted slightly in surprise, but then she smiled, warmth filling her features. "Kathryn, I'd be honored."

Janeway nodded, relief settling in her chest. "There's one more thing." Her fingers traced soothing circles over Astrea's back. "For now, I want to keep her a secret. Just until the last of the Borg technology is removed." She met Samantha's gaze. "I don't want questions. We are not entirely sure that the Borg won't come for her."

Samantha considered that for only a moment before nodding. "I understand. We'll keep this between us."

Naomi's hand shot up eagerly. "Can I help too?"

Janeway chuckled, the tension in her shoulders easing for the first time in days. "I was hoping you'd say that." Then, with a small, knowing smile, she added, "And if your mother agrees, I'd like to expand your Bridge Assistant duties. One half-shift a week on the bridge."

Naomi's eyes widened, excitement flickering in them. "Really?"

Janeway glanced at Samantha, waiting for approval.

Samantha sighed in amusement, then shook her head with a smile. "If she keeps up with her studies, I don't see why not."

Naomi grinned, practically bouncing in place. "I will! I promise!"

Janeway smirked. "Good. Because I have a feeling you are well on your way to your first pip."

Janeway had expected the days to feel longer. In truth, they passed in a quiet rhythm, measured by Astrea's soft breaths, the subtle shifts of her expressions, the way she curled into Janeway's warmth without hesitation.

She adjusted.

Voyager carried on. Reports still needed reviewing, shift rotations still needed adjusting, and the occasional crisis still demanded her attention. But in between, she found moments—stolen seconds where she simply held Astrea, memorizing the tiny weight of her against her chest.

The holodeck malfunction had turned into a full-blown ordeal, but now things had settled. The townspeople of Fair Haven had come to accept their nature, and the program remained intact. The fires still burned in the hearth, the cobbled streets still gleamed under lantern light, and Sullivan's Tavern still stood.

And Michael was still there.

Janeway sat in the rocking chair, Astrea nestled in her arms, the warmth of the infant seeping through the blanket wrapped around her. She traced absent circles against the soft fabric, staring out at the stars beyond her viewport.

She exhaled, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Shall we go meet a friend? He is a hologram like the doctor."

With careful movements, she rose, wrapping Astrea more securely before stepping toward the door.

Voyager was silent around her.

The corridors were nearly empty at this hour, only the occasional crewmember passing by with a nod, unaware of the small, quiet moment unfolding in the captain's arms.

When she reached the holodeck, she hesitated only a moment before stepping inside.

The night air was cool. The scent of damp stone and sea salt lingered in the quiet streets. The town was still, resting under the glow of street lamps, and for a moment, she simply stood there, watching the flickering light stretch long across the road.

Then, shifting her grip on Astrea, she stepped through the wooden doors of Sullivan's Tavern.

The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting long shadows against the dark wood. A few lanterns remained lit, their glow warm and welcoming. The scent of whiskey and old books lingered in the air, familiar in a way that made her shoulders loosen.

Michael stood behind the bar, polishing a glass, his expression unreadable for just a fraction of a second before his usual easy warmth returned.

His gaze dropped to the child in her arms.

"Well now," he murmured, setting the glass aside. "Isn't she a sight."

Janeway shifted slightly, as if adjusting Astrea's weight, though the movement was more for herself than anything.

"I thought the two of you needed an introduction," she said, keeping her voice low.

Michael studied her for a long moment, then nodded.

"Aye. That we did."

Without another word, he reached beneath the bar, pulling out a bottle and two glasses.

"The usual?"

Janeway huffed a quiet laugh. "Just tea."

He smirked but said nothing, pouring her drink before stepping around the bar.

"She's beautiful, Katie." Michael extended his arms toward her, wordlessly asking.

For a moment, she hesitated. But then, slowly, she placed Astrea in his arms.

Michael took her as if he'd done it a hundred times before, instinctive and easy. He looked down at the tiny girl in his arms, his smile softening.

"You decided then?"

It wasn't a question.

Janeway swallowed. The words came easily now.

"Yes."

Michael's lips twitched, something fond behind his eyes, but there was more than just amusement there, something quieter, something that understood the weight of what she had just said. He glanced down at Astrea, the way she fit against him, small but steady, trusting.

"She's lighter than I expected," he murmured, his thumb brushing absently against her back. "But strong, isn't she?"

Janeway nodded, watching him carefully.

Michael exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "Ah, Katie. You always did gather wayward souls." His voice was teasing, but there was something softer beneath it, something close to admiration.

Janeway huffed a quiet laugh. "She's not wayward."

"No," Michael agreed, meeting her eyes. "She's yours."

Something in her chest tightened, but before she could respond, Michael's expression shifted again, easy and warm.

"What is her name?"

Janeway smiled. "Astrea Halley Janeway."

Michael hummed, tilting his head slightly as if considering it, then nodded. "Well then, little Astrea," he said, adjusting his hold with practiced ease, "you deserve a proper welcome to Fair Haven."

With one arm holding Astrea, he walked toward the phonograph in the corner. The record shifted, the soft crackle filling the space before the first notes of a lullaby drifted into the air.

Janeway recognized it instantly.

Michael turned back to her, his expression unreadable for a beat before he extended his free hand. "May we have this dance, m'lady?"

She let him take it.

Let him pull her forward, let him guide her in slow, swaying circles near the firelight.

The world outside the tavern was distant now, irrelevant. The weight of Astrea between them was warm, grounding. The melody curled around them like something ancient, something known.

Michael's voice was barely above a whisper.

"You made the most beautiful decision, Katie."

The soft melody of the lullaby on repeat lingered in the air as Janeway looked toward the old clock above the bar. 01:00 hours. Time had slipped away from her, but she supposed that was the magic of Fair Haven. The town had a way of making reality feel distant, as if the worries of Voyager, of command, of the unknown, could be set aside just for a little while.

She exhaled softly, brushing her lips against the baby's fine hair before looking up at Michael.

"It's late," she said quietly. "We should be heading back."

Michael nodded, still rocking gently where they stood, Astrea nestled against him. "Aye. You know where to find me, Katie."

Janeway gave a small smile, reaching for Astrea. Michael carefully placed Astrea in Janeway's arms, making sure she was settled before stepping back, his expression softer than usual. "She's got you wrapped around her little fingers already."

Janeway smirked. "That obvious, is it?"

Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "Go on now. Get some rest."

With a final glance toward the dimly lit tavern, Janeway stepped out into the quiet streets of Fair Haven, Astrea nestled in her arms. The night air was cool, carrying the scent of damp stone and salt, and for just a moment, she let herself breathe it in before tapping her combadge.

"Computer, end program."

The world of Fair Haven dissolved around her in a shimmer of golden light, leaving only the cold grid of the holodeck behind. The stark contrast sent a chill through her, but she only tightened her hold on Astrea and stepped forward.

Voyager was quiet, the corridors dimmed for night shift. Not a single soul crossed her path as she walked, only the steady hum of the ship accompanying her through the empty halls. The silence felt different tonight—not hollow or lonely, but peaceful, a quiet space carved just for her and the child in her arms. Janeway's footsteps were soft against the deck, her pace unhurried. For once, there was no urgency, no crisis waiting at the other end of the corridor. Just this moment, just Astrea's gentle warmth against her chest, just the quiet rhythm of their breaths in sync. She let herself savor it, if only for a little while.

This was home. This had been home for so long that she barely thought about it, but now, carrying Astrea through the halls, she saw it differently. Voyager wasn't just a starship; it was a sanctuary, a place of impossible survival and quiet, everyday miracles. And tonight, it carried the most important one of all.

By the time she reached her quarters, Astrea was still sleeping soundly. Janeway stepped inside, the doors hissing shut behind her, sealing them in a space that finally, truly felt like theirs.

She moved toward the crib, hesitating only a moment before she carefully laid Astrea down. The baby stirred slightly, tiny fingers flexing against the blanket, but she didn't wake.

Janeway lingered. Just watching.

Then, with careful movements, she stepped toward the replicator. "Chamomile tea," she ordered softly. The cup materialized with a soft shimmer, and she took it, the warmth grounding her as she moved to the chair near the viewport.

She settled in, exhaling as she took a sip. The stars stretched endlessly beyond the glass, a familiar, steady presence.

"I think it's time for another story," she murmured, glancing back toward the crib.

Astrea didn't stir, but Janeway continued anyway, voice quiet, steady, carrying through the space like an old habit.

"This one is about a thief," she began, letting a small smirk tug at her lips. "And a genius."

She set the tea down, shifting slightly as she leaned forward, her elbows resting against her knees.

"We were chasing stolen technology when I found him—Leonardo da Vinci, brought to life through the holodeck, stranded on an alien world he never should have set foot on. He had no way of knowing he wasn't in Florence anymore. To him, I was still Caterina, a patron of his work, someone who sought his wisdom and ideas."

Her eyes flickered toward the viewport, the memories unfurling easily, as vivid now as they had been then.

"But that's the thing about Da Vinci—he was never afraid to believe in the impossible."

She took another sip of tea, letting the warmth settle as she continued.

"There he was, in a city he thought was America, working under a man he called a prince. But that 'prince' was no nobleman—he was a thief, a man who had stolen Voyager's technology and left us stranded. And Da Vinci? He was building machines with stolen parts, not realizing he was helping the wrong side."

Janeway shook her head slightly, amused despite herself. "When I found him, he told me to be careful—that I was in a land of new wonders, where men had created weapons of lightning and machines that moved without horses." She huffed softly. 'If only he knew how right he was.'"

She looked toward Astrea, as if expecting a response, then continued.

"I needed his help. I needed to get to that stolen technology, and Da Vinci... he was my way in. So I told him a story. I told him that I had come on a great ship, one that could carry us back to Europe. All we had to do was reach it. He believed me, of course. He always believed in the impossible."

Janeway leaned back slightly, gaze softening. "It wasn't easy. There were guards, there were obstacles, but Da Vinci—he thought like an artist. Like an inventor. He saw a fortress and knew the entrance would be hidden, facing away from the light to blind anyone seeking it. And he was right."

Her voice dropped lower, carrying the weight of the memory. "We made it inside. We found what we needed. But Tau, the man who had stolen from us, was closing in. There was no escape—except for one. Da Vinci's greatest dream."

She smiled slightly, shaking her head. "He had built a flying machine, a great winged bird made of wood and steel. He never got it to fly in Florence. But on that planet, with an enemy at our backs, we climbed aboard, and I told him to jump."

She let out a small, breathy chuckle. "And we flew, little star. Just like the birds."

She watched Astrea, a quiet warmth settling in her chest. "We made it back to Voyager. And do you know what he told me before he left? That a poor apprentice never surpassed her master."

She traced the rim of her cup with a fingertip, her voice barely above a whisper now. "But he was wrong about that. Because he was never my master. He was my teacher. And that's the lesson he left me with—that the world is as big as you let it be, and that believing in the impossible isn't foolish. It's the only way forward."

She let the silence settle between them, only the quiet hum of Voyager filling the space.

Then, softly, she murmured, "And you, Astrea, you are the most impossible thing of all."

She smiled to herself, finishing the last sip of her tea before standing and moving back to the crib. Astrea was still fast asleep, peaceful and small beneath the dim starlight.

Janeway leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I have so many more stories to share with you," she whispered. "Tales of distant stars, of great explorers, of lessons learned the hard way. And someday, I'll tell you the story of how we found you."

She brushed her fingers gently over Astrea's tiny hand, watching as it flexed in sleep. "But not tonight. Tonight, you just sleep and dream."

She lingered for a moment longer, then straightened, stepping back toward her chair. She settled in once more, cradling her cooling cup of tea, her gaze drifting to the endless stars beyond the viewport.

"Goodnight, little star," she whispered.