Days had passed since the destruction of the Borg cube and Voyager was now traveling once again toward home. Without missing duty or neglecting his responsibilities, it was clear Chakotay was still processing the recent events. He'd been quieter than normal, keeping his responses to the necessary minimum. He'd also shown little of himself in the mess hall. Like the last three evenings before, the solitude of his quarters had won out over the company of others. Silently, he watched the stars race past the view port. The voices of his ancestors called to him. Uncharacteristically, he ignored them.