It was so good to hear from you. I'm glad to know you are happy and well. I'm truly looking forward to meeting your wife. Maybe you can send me some pictures with your next letter?

By now, you've heard about our initial losses. Other than Cavitt, I don't think you had met any of them. You've probably also heard that instead of arresting the men and women on the Maquis ship, I made them part of my crew. I can only imagine what everyone thought when they heard about that decision. More than one person at Starfleet Command probably wanted to relieve me but that's a bit impractical at the moment.

The two groups had a few problems at first but it's been literally years since the different backgrounds caused trouble. That's not to say we've had a perfect trip, far from it. There are all the squabbles and disruptions you would expect on a ship this size but they are the type that friends and families have and they all blow over in a few days. I've never had an assignment that had a group together this long with no changes. It's quite different to know all the people have been on board for the last year and that next year, those same people will all still be on board. The possibility that anyone could be transferred at any time always made it easier for me to keep a distance between my crew and me. That's not true now. I'm still getting used to it but I like it. I'll probably have trouble getting used to the constant staff rotations when we finally get home.

You know me well enough that I'm sure you can tell that so far I've managed to avoid the real reason I'm writing. I need to tell you my reaction to your marriage.

It surprised me at first but at the same time, it didn't. I knew that everyone would think Voyager had been destroyed but some part of me refused to acknowledge that everyone back home would think all of us were dead. It hurt that you would write us all off like that, yet I know it's what you had to do. It's what I would have done eventually. Once I could admit that to myself, it was easier to deal with everything else you told me. I was hurt that you found someone else, at least at first. As I reread your letter, I realized that you had hurt my pride far more than my heart. I guess over the years, my heart had more sense than my head for it had slowly let go of what we shared.

My next reaction might surprise you almost as much as it surprised me. I was relieved that you had moved on. I was glad you had found someone else to love. If you're thinking clearly, you must be wondering why I was relieved and whether I had gotten involved with someone else. The question is understandable and the answer is no, I haven't. When I asked myself why I was relieved, I was finally forced to admit the reason to myself. I met someone else, too, but I've known you were alive so I've kept my distance from him. For a very long time, you have been my reason for not exploring a deeper relationship with him. Now that reason no longer exists and I'm going to have to make a decision to do something even if it is to do nothing at all.

As I write this, I find myself becoming slightly angry with you for removing the barrier that's kept me safe from personal relationships all these years. I know that anger isn't real but it tells me that I have hidden behind you for a long time. It's time for me to stand alone again. Funny, I do that all the time as captain but it's been so long since I did it just for myself, I'm not sure I remember how. That's not quite true, I don't stand alone as captain. I have nearly 150 people standing with me.

I told him right away that you'd sent me a 'Dear John' letter and that I'd lost my safety net. He was caring and supportive and willing to give me time to consider the situation. Time. 'All the time in the world' was the phrase he used. It doesn't sound like I'm the great love of his life, does it? Maybe that's why I'm uncertain about what to do.

Well, I'll sort it out one way or another. It's nearly time to collect all our letters for the next communications window.

Congratulations once again. Be happy.

Love,

Kathryn

You're not the only one with mixed reactions to letters. I think I'm slightly jealous of this man you mentioned. I know I am curious about him. What type of man is he? Who is he? All I know is he must be someone truly special to have caught your attention and someone truly patient to be waiting for you so long. Or have you fallen for someone completely inappropriate – a rogue and a scoundrel?

Oh, I know he is probably someone completely appropriate – an upstanding officer and gentleman. It might sound strange, but in some ways I wish you could fall for a scoundrel, a man who would make you forget you were an officer, if only for an hour or two. I know you, Kathryn, in some ways better now than I did when we were together. We were both safe in our relationship, no risks on either side. But is that what you want? Is it enough?

I thought it enough – until I met Sara. What she and I share is not safe. We both know that together we soar and if we lose the other, we will lose part of ourselves. I loved you, Kathryn, but not like that, and I don't think your love for me was much different than mine for you. Oh, we would have been happy together and never been the wiser but I've found so much more and I suspect you now have the same chance. I hope he is a rogue, Kathryn, because then I know he will make you soar. Whoever he is, Kath, don't waste the opportunity.

Love,

Mark