CHAPTER TWO

 

Seven of Nine left the conference room relieved to be out of sight of Commander Chakotay. A year ago she had embarrassed herself by revealing her feelings for him. In her attempt to understand human nature, particularly in affairs of the heart, she had created a hologram of Chakotay and practiced dating with him. In a controlled environment where she, as the creator of a hologram, could determine the destiny, appearance, all emotion subroutines of her character, Chakotay had been the perfect man.  He was dashing, kind, compassionate and understood her. Why she had chosen Commander Chakotay had been a source of perplexity for her, because she had always approached everything that happened on board Voyager with clear and rational thought. Focusing her thoughts intensely, she had realized that the rationale for her choice lay in the moment when he called her Annika, while she was still part of the collective. He was the perfect man.

 

Since then, she had felt a connection to him so that her final choice of a lifemate left no doubt in her mind - it was to be Voyager's first officer.

 

Seven had turned her attentions to him and he had been flattered, if that was the word that described the look in Chakotay's eyes as they appraised her. She thought there was pleasure in his looks. She had not known then that Captain Janeway, who had been too immured in her role as Captain of the ship, had turned Chakotay away. It was common knowledge among the crew, who thrived on speculation about the ship's command team, that the captain and first officer were an item in their eyes. They all hoped that Captain Janeway would one day come to her senses and tell him of her feelings. They all believed that the captain loved Commander Chakotay. Seven believed it was not so, for how could any woman turn away a man who seemed to her to be perfect? 

 

But then she had seen how Chakotay had become despondent, with a gloominess that gave him a more brooding appearance, a look of  hurt lurking in his eyes. The captain didn't want him, that was what she thought and believed. Which meant that he would soon turn his attentions to another and that he would welcome it if she showed him that there was someone who would love him in the way he deserved to be loved. The captain had dismissed his feelings out of hand and sent him away from her. With that knowledge, she had visited Commander Chakotay in his quarters one evening.

 

Seven shook her head, and touched the enhanced cortical implant before she continued on her way to her Borg alcove. She did not want to remember that night. Yet, images of herself ripping off her close-fitting catsuit, of herself baring her breasts and demanding he put his mouth there... Those images filled her mind, evoking shame once more. She had been naked, grabbing Chakotay's hand and guiding him to her private parts. He had been quiet for several seconds. It seemed to her that he was considering throwing her on his bed like she had yearned as her whole body seemed to be ablaze with desire. There was a flame in his dark eyes, the deep gloom that had been her perceived reason of his unhappiness suddenly changing to lust. He had entertained the idea. She could feel his fingers moving in her. She had felt herself losing control, of an entirely foreign sensation in her core that seemed to close like a clam around his fingers and pulsate around him with juices spurting.

 

She had not known that she could feel that way, or respond with so much abandon. It awakened her senses, awakened her to a world dark, mysterious and exciting that made her want to explore beyond whatever boundaries there were for the mating ritual.

 

But then, suddenly, he had pulled away, the flames gone, her body bereft of its heat. He had breathed hard until he calmed. She had been confused at the sudden cold air, the emptiness, the unfulfilled feeling inside her. Chakotay had then calmly taken her clothes, handed themto her and gently told her to get dressed. She had been mortified that he turned her down, but more than ashamed that she had so brazenly revealed herself to him. Then he made her sit down on his couch and he had held her hand all the while he explained to her that he did not feel that way about her. What would have happened would have been an act of lust, he told her. She deserved better than to be seen or used as an object only of someone's base desire. One day she would find the right man who could love her for herself and worship her body with love.

 

Seven had been too bemused, too ashamed then to take in everything that he told her.

 

"Is it because you love Captain Janeway?" she had asked, unable to mask her humiliation and her suffering.

 

Had she been too distressed and embarrassed to note that he never gave her an answer? She loved him, of that she was absolutely certain now, a year after the incident. But Commander Chakotay chose the captain. She had admired him for his fortitude, his devotion to the captain. In the past week she had seen in Commander Chakotay's eyes what it was like to be the object of love. He was different; he looked at peace. When his eyes rested on the captain, it was clear that his love for her burned like a bright flaming torch which only Kathryn Janeway had the power to light.

 

She had taken to observing them. It was the very absence of proprietorial motivation that spoke louder than any verbal protestation of hands off, she’s mine. She could see in Commander Chakotay an air of protection that exuded from him. It was not cloying, nor was it complacent; but she gained the impression that Kathryn Janeway now moved about in the complete and utter assurance that she could rely on Chakotay’s innate goodness and strength and constancy. Chakotay didn’t have to touch Kathryn Janeway at all. Their interaction, the very subtlety of the communication between them, spoke of a familiarity that was borne out of their adversity, their mutual reliance, their love, their unspoken messages, the connection of an invisible thread through which they communicated. It was blinding, her realisation that in a thousand years she could not have that with Chakotay. Those eyes had never looked at her in that way, never uttered unspoken words that left anyone who looked, a little outside that cocoon. 

 

The way in which her insides appeared to shrivel and die from pain, filled her with confusion.

 

"I will adapt," she told herself. "The Borg always adapt."

 

Her emotions, thrown into disarray, found only one thing they could latch on that would assuage her unhappiness. It settled and coalesced into a single thought: Now is the time I could kill Captain Janeway; then the commander would be mine forever. I have not forgotten the look in his eyes, or the way his fingers delved into my flesh or the way my body just wanted his touching to go on forever.

 

She thought if the Captain were dead or had ceased to exist completely, then Commander Chakotay would look at her again and think of the time his hands were on her body and how she did not reject his touches. It was so easy. All she had to do was stand back and do nothing.

 

When she entered the holodeck, the doctor was there.

 

"Doctor, I have come to discuss my idea with you, because I require your assistance if I'm to carry it out - "

 

"Anything, Seven of Nine. Anything at all, if we can save our Captain. For her, we'll give our lives, for hadn't Captain Janeway shouldered all our burdens and made so many sacrifices for us? We must save our Captain."

 

Our Captain...

 

She looked at the bed, at the silent figure of the captain's hologram. For her, all on the ship would give their lives. For her they would take Voyager back in time to correct a wrong. For the captain, whom they loved.

 

Something happened inside her. She cast out of her heart all repugnant thoughts. From far away, she heard the doctor's voice.The woman who lay on the bed, hologram or not, was the woman who had breathed life into her, who had patiently introduced her to her humanity; this woman who told her how a single act of compassion could bring a person in touch with his humanity... How could she ever have entertained any thoughts of denying this woman her happiness and denying Commander Chakotay his? How could she have entertained any thought of denying this woman her life if it were within her ability to save her? Seven's heart emptied of its shameful feelings; like a sea of pus they exited her body, streaming from her eyes, her mouth, her ears, her heart. In their place came goodwill, love for this woman and the desire to restore Captain Janeway to life. Compassion filled her being, and she chided herself for being so wholly self-centred.

 

"Seven...?"

 

"Doctor," she responded as she swung round to face him.

 

"You look distressed, Seven of Nine. Is anything the matter?"

 

"Nothing, Doctor. The captain's condition is distressing to witness. That is all."

 

The EMH nodded. "So, inform me of your plan, Seven. We don't have much time."

 

"I can interface with your mobile-emitter, Doctor, which is 29th century technology." It pleased her to see the doctor's understanding nod. "However, I can only do so once I've reconfigured the signals and aligned it with my cortical node in my regeneration chamber. You will have to remain in the holodeck or sickbay for the duration - "

 

"I don't mind at all, Seven," the doctor replied, his eyes alive. "I need to remain here in any case to monitor your progress and that of the Captain. Her remaining synapses are still stable, but I can only hold them in stasis for another day before they degrade altogether."

 

"That may be all we need, Doctor," she said as she removed the doctor's mobile emitter.

 

"How will you bypass any Borg interference?" he asked, as a thought struck him. She gave him a little smile. "Do not worry, Doctor. I have the help I need..." Her gaze fell on the captain's body again. "She will be restored to us, Doctor."

 

"Thank you, Seven. I know it has not been easy..."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Letting Commander Chakotay go. You love him."

 

"I will adapt."

 

"You are more human now than ever before. If it means so much to you seeing Commander Chakotay happy with..." he looked at the captain, "the woman of his life, then you have matured."

 

He looked at her with kindness in his eyes. She nodded, clenched her finger around the emitter and without saying another word, left the holodeck.

 

***** 

 

"Seven of Nine, you hailed me," Icheb's voice sounded behind her at the cargo bay workstation.

 

"I require your assistance, Icheb. I believe together we can achieve our goal."

 

"And what is our goal, Seven of Nine?"

 

When he stood next to her, he showed little reaction to the mobile emitter that was now fused to her cortical node. Already she could feel the voices, thousands of voices, men, women and children. Screaming voices attached to outstretched hands pleading for help in the Borg wilderness. She stifled a cry, reminding herself that what she felt was irrelevant to their cause. But the voices kept coming.

 

"Seven of Nine, state our goal," Icheb said, looking at her with youthful candour.

 

"Our..our goal...yes," she said, pulling herself back from the myriad voices, "we have a mission. An away mission, if you like."

 

"Explain, Seven of Nine. You have merged the doctor's emitter with your cortical node. What is the purpose?"

 

"Captain Janeway is...indisposed. We have to make contact with Captain Braxton."

 

"Of the Time Police, 29th century. How may I assist in this mission?"

 

"I have reconfigured the emitter to direct an emergency Federation signal to Captain Braxton's commbadge. We will both be in regeneration for one hour or until contact is made."

 

"You can hear the voices of all those assimilated by Borg. It does not give you pleasure."

 

"No. But what I feel is irrevelant."

 

"And what do we sacrifice, Seven of Nine?"

 

"That you will learn, Icheb. Please step up. Your mission is to divert any Federation signal leaving my alcove and yours from any Borg interference while I make contact with Captain Braxton. We do not wish to have the Borg on our...tail, as Tom Paris would say."

 

"You are making a sacrifice. You may die from the pain."

 

"Yes."

 

"Then I will assist. The captain must return to us."

.

She waited for Icheb to enter his chamber, then set the controls. Instantly the whirring started. All instructions had already been entered and all Icheb had to do was follow them. Then she too stepped into her chamber. She sighed as she turned to face outward and close her eyes. A second later, the voices began to diminish as Icheb started to absorb them; from the millions of sounds and signals she could search for an isolated one, the one signal she was looking for.

 

Now, all she had to do was wait.

 

***** 

 

Chakotay rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted. The past hour he had systematically worked through Kathryn's logs, and a book that chronicled the genealogy of the Janeway family. Kathryn's image was superimposed on every woman in the Janeway line he read about. The closest he had come or, he smiled grimly to himself, the furthest he had gone back was to Shannon O'Donnell and her meeting with Henry Janeway. Although Henry Janeway had a son from a previous marriage, Kathryn was a direct descendant of Henry's union with Shannon O'Donnell. He knew he had to go further and he tried to remember the odd phrases, the little bits of information Kathryn had given him of her family history.

 

"Did you know," she said once, when they had been stranded on New Earth, "that my founding mother was born in Ireland?"

 

"I know now," he had teased her gently.

 

They had been happy on New Earth and he had been happy seeing her in tune with her surroundings. She had fought so hard then, her energy inexhaustible as she searched and researched for a cure for them. When she had finally come to terms that they might have to remain on New Earth for the rest of their lives, Kathryn had transformed into a bright and easy-going person, one who smiled and laughed often, who teased and cajoled and had fun with him. In the evenings when they shared their quiet moments, she would sit with him on his bed and rest her head against his chest. Then she'd talk and he would share with her his history, his legends.

 

"Oh yes. She wrote articles on women's rights for the New York Times. Ahead of her time. She was apparently very self-assured and feisty - "

 

"Like someone I know?"

 

"As I said, she was the beginning. After that, there has always been a remarkable Janeway woman, someone who was a contrary, like you..."

 

Now he remembered Kathryn's words and he realised he had to go further back, perhaps even to the nineteenth century, as Tom had suggested. Tom was in the holodeck lab where he believed he could conduct a search more efficiently. He hailed Tom, giving the helmsman three names that were possibilities.

 

Kathryn was his life. He couldn't bear to lose her. Once he thought he'd lost her forever and he had been foolish enough to think that another woman could fill that void in him. Seven had tried; he had let her down gently, although for a few seconds he had been overcome by temptation.

 

Last night he and Kathryn had come close to making love, and it had been Kathryn who gently pulled them both back from the brink. He had burned with passion as he held her in his arms on the couch. She had felt soft and pliant, and their kiss had deepened, her mouth soft and moist. He wanted to go on forever tasting her, for she was sweet, an intoxicating  nectar that kept filling to the brim and overflowing. Her arms had been about his neck and she had caressed his hair, had breathed deeply and moaned as his tongue searched hungrily in an equally hungry mouth that generously opened generously for him. Her tongue had darted into his mouth and he had groaned loudly, a heady feeling persisting long after the kiss ended. Kathryn's eyes had been warm, her eyelids heavy and brooding. He could feel, as his hand remained against her bosom, how her heart thumped erratically.

 

"Tomorrow night, Chakotay, then I am yours. I love you," she added, humbly, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sorry that I hurt you...so sorry..."

 

As he had pulled her into his embrace, the burning, unassuaged passion made way for deep caring. He had felt like crying too as he held her so close to him.

 

"Don't worry, my love. Making love with you on our wedding night will be worth the  wait. Thank you. Now, will you play me our melody?"

 

"Oh Chakotay!" she cried. Seconds later the strains of I'll take you home again, Kathleen filled his cabin.

 

Now Kathryn lay in the holodeck, a hologram, and he feared that they might be too late. He wanted to hurry through the data and logs and related texts but he had been forced to look at every clue, even the remotest. Scrolling further down, he paused at a certain point. Finally! He read and reread it, his eyes filling with wonder as he finished. Then he hit his commbadge.

 

"Chakotay to Paris."

 

"Paris here, Commander. What is it?"

 

"I have the genealogy of Captain Janeway's untainted timeline here where it has crossed paths with Federation history. Her personal logs and other data pertaining to her family history are on my computers, and I am assuming these are untainted. I'm not sure if I understand this at all, but I'm coming to the holodeck laboratory."

 

"Then I have news for you too, Commander. It seems I have here the tainted timeline, because large parts of Federation events that touch the Janeways directly, are erroneous. It seems that the captain's father has a younger brother, and I know Edward Janeway was an only son. I have traced it right back to the 20th century. I should know. I'm the resident expert, right?"

 

"I'm one up on you, Paris. Mine goes into late nineteenth, as in 1899."

 

Chakotay heard a loud whistling sound from Paris before he closed communication and made his way to the holodeck lab.

 

**** 

 

Tom didn't look up as Chakotay entered the lab. Chakotay grinned. Tom Paris was too deep into his research. Normally he would have been distracted by the opening and closing of a door. His head turning every time someone entered the bridge was his trademark. This time he kept his nose almost against the screen.

 

"Your nose will burn into the monitor, Paris," he said as he approached.

 

At that moment his commbadge beeped.

 

"Torres to Chakotay."

 

"Yes, B'Elanna?"

 

"I have news. I don't know if it's good news or what can be construed as bad - "

 

"Just tell me what you've discovered."

 

He heard B'Elanna growl at his bluntness.

 

"I've received a communique, not from Admiral Paris, but an Admiral Ponsonby. There was an Admiral Edward Janeway, who was married to a Gretchen. Up to that point as far as Starfleet is concerned, the timeline remained the same. Gretchen Janeway is fine since she married into the Janeway family. That is probably good news, right? But, Commander, Gretchen and Edward Adam Janeway had two sons, Charles and Andrew, who are both dead. Kathryn Janeway and Phoebe are the daughters of Matthew Travis Janeway, Edward's brother. Phoebe Janeway is dead. Her two adopted sons are also fine."

 

"My God," exclaimed Tom. "The timeline is really skewered..."

 

Chakotay felt himself turn cold at B'Elanna's startling news. Yet...

 

"Why do I feel there's more, Torres?" he barked, feeling another wave of dread fill him.

 

"Phoebe's baby died, Commander. I'm sorry."

 

There was a heavy pause, the echo of B'Elanna's words still ringing in his ears. The echo was replaced by a buzz, a sickening noise that briefly caused him not to hear Paris calling his name. He felt sick to his stomach.

 

"Thank you. Chakotay out..."

 

Tom stood next to him, steadying him.

 

"I'm sorry to hear that, Commander."

 

"She didn't know about the baby... Kathryn had not received any messages from home in almost six months because she felt the crew needed to send and receive messages first."

 

"That is the way of Captain Janeway, Commander. But let's look at our data, okay? We'll get Phoebe and her baby back too."

 

"Yes," Chakotay said softly, "we'll get them back."

 

****** 

 

In cargo bay two Seven of Nine stepped out of her regeneration alcove. She deactivated Icheb's link and soon, he too stepped out.

 

"Seven of Nine," he started, "I know what sacrifice is."

 

"I commend your strength. You have taken everything upon you - "

 

"In order that I too may be of help in Captain Janeway's recovery. It was no...big deal..."

 

Seven couldn't smile. Icheb had absorbed the intrusion of thousands of voices and safely diverted any signals away from the Borg. He looked exhausted.

 

"You require rest."

 

"I want to help."

 

"You have helped more than you know. I have succeeded in making contact with Captain Braxton. I only hope that he will respond swiftly because we are losing time. Please, you must rest now. I will keep you updated on what has transpired after our meeting. I have to meet with Commander Chakotay."

 

"Then I will do so, Seven of Nine. Naomi Wildman has asked me to assist her in elementary theory of quantum mechanics."

 

"That is rest?"

 

"Indeed."

 

"Understood. I must go now."

 

Seven left Icheb and strode purposefully out of the cargo bay. She felt a new surge of satisfaction that she had, with Icheb's assistance, succeeded in her task. Commander Chakotay needed to be informed. Now she knew she could look at him and the hurt would not be as intense as it had been before. She loved him for herself, but she loved him enough to accept that she would never be the one to make his happiness complete.

 

What she had done now, was not only for the general good of the ship, but because she wanted to help the Commander find his true love again; she wanted to do it for the woman who was going to take her to see her aunt again, the only remaining family she had. She wanted to do it because she loved Captain Janeway as the woman who had done so much for her. She wanted to do it because she was a member of Voyager's crew.

 

She felt good. It made her smile. No longer would she be unhappy. She knew that her dreams would have new heroes, not ones that she worshipped selfishly, but ones who would do everything and more for a lonely group of travelers making their way home across the Delta Quadrant.

 

Yes, the boulders that weighed so heavily on her because she loved a man so hopelessly, lifted. She could feel it in the way her steps lightened, the way she floated down the corridor, then made her way into the turbolift and ordered it to take her to deck one.

 

********

 

In the conference room, the first thing Chakotay noticed as Seven sat down, was the doctor's mobile emitter fused to the cortical node.

 

"Seven? Will you explain?" he asked, sitting after everyone else.

 

"I am in a continuous link with Captain Braxton. I've managed to isolate his commlink signal from the millions of others based on his own commbadge, which was shortly in the possession of Captain Janeway while on Earth in 1996. I will not belabour the technicalities at this point. Suffice to say, I've completed a full report of that aspect of my search."

 

"How soon do you think before there will be any response?" asked Tuvok.

 

"I only found a connection 61 minutes ago. It may be another hour, perhaps less. I have stated that it is an urgent matter of a temporal infraction which has incapacitated Voyager's captain."

 

Tom raised his hand. "Uh, Seven, correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't your signal have been picked up by the Borg?"

 

Chakotay had the same thought, and he knew by the looks of the others, that they had too. He knew how much she had endured while being severed from the Borg by him. He had seen and heard the frightened six year old Annika Hansen in the throes of fear, watching her parents assimilated before she too became a victim. There was no doubt that the same may have happened now.

 

"Icheb joined me in his alcove and absorbed..." Seven's slight pause was enough for them to realise that she had endured some pain, or distress, but that Icheb had taken the brunt of it.

 

"It's okay, Seven," B'Elanna said.

 

"I have instructed him to...rest. He is with Naomi Wildman now."

 

It warmed Chakotay the way B'Elanna touched Seven's arm in a gesture of reassurance.

 

"Thank you."

 

Chakotay nodded.

 

"B'Elanna has informed me that she has made contact with Starfleet," he began. "Unfortunately Phoebe Janeway has died as well as her three month old baby. Captain Janeway and her sister are the daughters of Matthew Janeway, not Edward Janeway, in the corrupted timeline. Edward Janeway's two sons, though, have also died."

 

There was a hushed silence as they took in news of the tragedy.

 

"I'm certain once we have corrected the wrong," came the voice of the EMH from holodeck 1, "they will be restored too."

 

"That is correct. Lieutenant Paris and I have been researching 20th century data pertaining to Captain Janeway's direct line of descendancy." Chakotay paused, then watched their impatient expressions as they waited for him to continue. "The earliest known female ancestor of Kathryn Janeway is Kathleen O'Clair. We could have gone further back, but her life or convergence with the man she married, is our point of origin of the distorted timeline."

 

"How do you know that?" Neelix asked.

 

"Yes, how?"

 

"Kathleen O'Clair was born in Ireland, the third of six daughters born to Eileen and Liam O'Clair. On the 10th May, she boarded a vessel that would take her to the New World - America. The Britannic, a steamship of the White Star Line, sailed from Liverpool on that day. Kathleen's name was on the passenger list. A month after her arrival in New York she married the Captain of the Britannic. It seemed that a shipboard romance developed between Kathleen and the Britannic's captain."

 

"How could you verify that they married, and on that day?"

 

"Ever heard of the Library of Congress, Kim?" Tom asked, a little irritated.

 

"Okay, okay..."

 

"Well, immigration records exist for those  who applied for United States citizenship. A son and two daughters were born to Kathleen - " Chakotay explained from his own data.

 

"Who was the captain? Was he the male ancestor?" Neelix interrupted, his eyes yellower than usual.

 

"Aye. His name was Edward Adam Janeway. His command of the Britannic was his final journey to the New World. It was the Britannic's last commercial trans-Atlantic crossing. After that she was used to cart British soldiers fighting a war in Southern Africa. In 1903, the Britannic was sold for scrap."

 

"As I was saying, a son and two daughters were born to Kathleen and Edward, and this son Matthew was the grandfather of Henry Janeway, a widower who later married Shannon O'Donnell."

 

"Phew! What a history!" exclaimed Harry.

 

"She was not alone when she made her way to Dublin," Chakotay continued, "and purportedly from there to Liverpool. She was accompanied by a young man - "

 

"Who it seems," Tom Paris said, grinning, "is a forebear of mine. One Thomas Kiernan. Apparently he and Kathleen O'Clair were neighbours and great friends. She mentions him as a godfather to her firstborn child."

 

"The point of origin is therefore the meeting of Kathleen O'Clair and Edward Adam Janeway - "

 

"Isn't Captain Janeway's father also Edward Janeway?"

 

Chakotay didn't want to explain just how distorted the timeline was.

 

"Indeed. There has been an Edward Adam Janeway every second generation," Chakotay explained. "Now somehow, Kathleen O'Clair and Thomas Kiernan never made it to America in 1899. In fact, they never made it out of Ireland."

 

"And therefore Kathleen and Edward couldn't possibly have met and created our Captain's lineage?"

 

"Correct," Tom Paris added. He held up his PADD like a beacon of hope. "In the main database, I found some startling discrepancies. Suffice to say, Kathleen didn't make it to Liverpool on that day in 1899, because I couldn't find the name Kathleen O'Clair on the passenger list of the Britannic. Commander Chakotay had given me a few names, and this plucky young lady wasn't one of them. She did leave Ireland, but only thirteen years later."

 

"Thirteen years! She married someone else, naturally."

 

"Well, yes and no. Apparently Kathleen did marry an Irish farmer, last name Riley. When she boarded the Titanic in 1912, it was as Kathleen O'Clair. I'm assuming she left him since she was traveling alone.."

 

"The Titanic? But...but..." Harry stammered.

 

"Her name was on the passenger list of that vessel. 1522 passengers drowned when the Titanic struck an iceberg and sank. Kathleen O'Clair's name was not among the survivors..."

 

Tom paused, letting his words sink in.

 

"So...we have to find Kathleen O'Clair and make sure she gets on the Britannic to meet and fall in love with Captain Edward Adam Janeway..." B'Elanna said, her voice trailing into a sigh.

 

"And marry him a month later," Seven of Nine added.

 

"And make sure there are no...impediments," B'Elanna sighed again.

 

"You're an incurable romantic, reader of Klingon love stories," Tom said to B'Elanna, smiling.

 

B'Elanna scowled and gave him a playful jab. At that moment Seven gave a shudder, her eyes widening before her face broke into a smile. 

 

**** 

 

Rested enough to resume his bridge duties, Magnus Rollins, while covering for Tuvok, kept his eyes fixed on the main viewscreen. Ayala filled in for Harry and at the helm was James Hamilton. They were now only two days away from Ankares IV, and on Chakotay's instruction, reduced speed to warp 3 while investigations were under way. 

 

Ayala remained alert, scanning for any anomalies and from time to time reporting to Rollins. All was quiet on the bridge; the general low hum of voices that had become part of their daily routine and which Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay had allowed, was no longer there. They were reserved, silent all filled with dread that the Captain might never recover. Rollins was kept up to date on the progress made by the senior crew, and felt very sorry that the Captain's sister and baby had also died. He, like many of the crew, knew what it was to miss someone who had died and who had been so close to them. Chakotay especially, struggled, but Rollins doubted whether the crew understood just how close to his heart Chakotay kept his sorrow. While they battled to find an answer to the mystery of the Captain's disappearance from Voyager, Chakotay most particularly knew that he had to remain in control and to remain level-headed for the sake of the crew.

 

Now, they all waited for the meeting to end; from time to time Magnus's eyes stole to the right, where the entrance to the briefing room was. He wondered what they had to report, but whatever it was, the crew would be informed. Seven of Nine had sent him a message that they had to be on the alert for a Federation signal, and he was ready for the next temporal surge should there be one.

 

It was the exact moment that he turned to face the main viewscreen again that a flash appeared, shooting right out of the black night. Then the flash hovered until it became still. A ship about the size of the Delta Flyer appeared on the screen.

 

"Open a hail,"  he ordered Ayala, who was already on it.

 

"It's a Federation signal, Rollins."

 

The next moment the face of a man - human - filled the screen. Rollins frowned; the man looked familiar to him.

 

"I am Lieutenant Rollins of the Federation Starship Voyager. Greetings..."

 

"Braxton. Captain Braxton. I responded to an emergency on an ancient Federation subspace band."

 

"Braxton?" Rollins replied. "I remember you."

 

"Yes, yes," Braxton gushed, appearing out of breath. Magnus wondered if he had been running all the way from the 29th century to Voyager. "You have two Borg on board," Braxton continued. "I was contacted by one of them. I request to see the Captain immediately."

 

"Captain Janeway is incapacitated. Commander Chakotay - "

 

"Braxton! Just the man we want to see," exclaimed Chakotay as he came out of the conference room, the rest filing out behind him. Chakotay hit his commbadge. "Transport Captain - "

 

"Not necessary, Commander Chakotay."

 

A second later Braxton was standing on the bridge, looking around him and giving an annoyed little grunt. He walked to Voyager's plaque to the left of the bridge and stared at it wonderingly. Braxton was dressed in a uniform that Magnus deduced to be 29th century Starfleet issue. Then Braxton turned to them, the wondering, awed look gone like mist. He was also standing hands on his hips like someone who owned all he surveyed; he also looked extremely annoyed. "So...who's been messing with the timeline this time?"

 

Chakotay didn't reply, instead, he gestured to Braxton to follow him to the ready room.

 

"Tuvok, you have the bridge."

 

*****

 

Chakotay sat down in the chair behind the desk while Braxton remained standing. He looked restless, like someone who wanted to get things done yesterday. He grinned inwardly at his own assessment of Braxton's manners.

 

"Well, Commander? Where is Captain Janeway? I made your emergency hail a high priority. Thank that Borg of yours, will you?"

 

Chakotay turned his console and opened a link to holodeck 1. They could see the doctor near the biobed on which Kathryn lay.

 

"That is not the Captain, Braxton, but a hologram of her. The EMH has managed to salvage some of her last active synapses and copied them to the hologram."

 

"I see. It's the reason Voyager and its crew didn't drop out of the timeline... Interesting..." Braxton rubbed his chin. "How long can the doctor keep the synapses active?"

 

"They were at 100% two hours ago. They are now at 90%..."

 

Braxton's eyes narrowed. He was doing the calculations.

 

"That gives Voyager eighteen more hours to reset the timeline. Not much to play with considering you have to be in 1899, where traveling was done by horse and cart and old steamships."

 

"We'll do whatever it takes, Braxton. Now, can you help us?"

 

"This woman," Braxton started as he pointed to Kathryn, "hurled me right into 1966 Earth and left me stewing there for thirty years."

 

"I'm sure you've forgiven her. We set things right, didn't we?"

 

"Naturally. Now, her timeline has been polluted. It doesn't get polluted by accident, you know."

 

"Are you going to tell me? We're 17 minutes into the last eighteen hours, Braxton."

 

"Yes, yes. We'll have to find out once we get there. My ship can create a little temporal rift without distorting Voyager's projected route to Ankares IV. It's set to reach Earth 1899 in an hour. You have little time, Commander. I need only three crewmembers to accompany me. My ship will be in Earth's orbit and will remain cloaked."

 

Chakotay looked at Braxton, who couldn't keep his eyes off the woman on the biobed.

 

"We were to be married tonight..."

 

"I know."

 

"Temporal Prime Directive, huh?"

 

"Yes. Take me to the holodeck."

 

It was an order and Chakotay shrugged aside any resentment. Five minutes later they stood in the holodeck near the bed on which the Captain lay.

 

"Captain Braxton! You are here!" the doctor gushed. "Ah, I feel so much better. We can help the Captain. By my calculations the synapses will degrade completely in eighteen hours. Then we'll lose Captain Janeway completely and we will vanish too!"

 

"So much faith. I'm astounded that a hologram can think," Braxton said unkindly. But the doctor was unfazed by Braxton's brusque manner.

 

"Well, we have two Borg who have braved the possible reappearance of ten Borg cubes just to make contact with you. One of them is a young boy who, in his own words, was willing to die to keep Voyager away from any threat" the EMH said soberly. "The exercise has left them completely depleted of strength. They must regenerate but they refuse to do so until they can see their captain standing in front of them - a flesh and blood captain. I don't need to remind you that every member of this crew is prepared to lay down his life for Captain Janeway. Now, if that isn't good enough a sacrifice for you, I suggest that you try and conduct yourself a little more amenably and appreciate our present precarious circumstances. I'm sure Commander Chakotay can do without you harping on the Janeway Factor and how it ruined your life for thirty years. What we need is your help, Captain Braxton."

 

Chakotay stared open-mouthed at their doctor. Then he looked at Braxton whose look mimicked his own. He almost burst out laughing. Braxton gave a little cough, then stepped up to the biobed.

 

"A hologram... You're doing well keeping her in this state, Doctor," he said, much more toned down after the doctor's diatribe. The air that had chilled a minute ago changed to something warmer. "Otherwise we'd lose her sooner. Her sister has also ceased to exist..."

 

"Yes. So what do you suggest, Braxton?"

 

"I'll be on my ship. In an hour I expect three of your crew to join me. I'll relay to you the dress specifications of the period as well as Temporal Protocols. Doctor,  you have 29th century technology courtesy of that villain Henry Starling. That was used to make contact with me. Thank your Borg for me, will you?"

 

Chakotay could hardly open his mouth this time. Braxton seemed to have calmed dramatically and even sounded very friendly, as if that were the normal Braxton. He certainly hoped that it was. But Braxton's initial reactions still begged pondering, and Chakotay couldn't help thinking that he knew much more than he let on.

 

He nodded to Braxton who, with just a light touch on his 29th century state of the art commbadge, dematerialised. Seconds later, data streamed in from Braxton's ship to the holodeck computers.

 

"Thanks, Doc, that brought him up short, didn't it?"

 

"He knows more than he's letting on," the EMH said succinctly.

 

"I know."

 

"Look, Commander, I know how this is affecting you. You look exhausted. I hope you're not considering - "

 

"I'm going, Doctor. There's no way I'm not going to make sure myself that the Captain is safely returned to us. I'm taking Rollins and Gilmore - "

 

"Marla Gilmore? Why?"

 

"Why don't you tell me what you think?"

 

"The crew of the Equinox have not been on any away missions since they boarded Voyager - "

 

"Something that must be addressed in future. They've earned their wings, Doc.. Any other reason?"

 

"Well, I just thought that you're going to 1899 Ireland, steeped in old fashioned values. Our Kathleen O'Clair might feel better talking to a woman or being in the company of another female. And you'd have to cover that tattoo of yours..."

 

"My thought, exactly, Doc. Taking a female crewmember as the third member of the away mission will allay Kathleen's fears should she have them." He tapped his commbadge. "Chakotay to Gilmore."

 

"Gilmore here," came the well-modulated voice of Marla Gilmore.

 

"Fancy going on an away mission, Marla?"

 

"Me, Commander?" Marla's surprise was evident. She had been a lieutenant on the Equinox but had been demoted to crewman after that debacle.

 

Chakotay smiled at her surprised reaction. Marla and Noah deserved to get their ranks reinstated. It was something he had wanted to discuss with Kathryn. 

 

"The doctor will download the information you need. Be dressed and ready on the bridge in an hour."

 

There was a pause. Chakotay thought he heard a tiny sob.

 

"Thank you, Commander. Thank you so much! I'm very happy to be of assistance."

 

"You're welcome, Marla. Chakotay out."

 

************* 

 

First Officer's Personal log - 2379; 1300.

 

My dearest Kathryn

 

I am going on a mission to rescue you. It sounds like a paradox, doesn't it? But you know how you've always hated  temporal anomalies and causality paradoxes. If you're reading this, you will have been restored to your own timeline and it will take me at least an hour to return to Voyager. We have enlisted the aid of Captain Braxton. The doctor gave Braxton an earful for mouthing off against you and that brought Braxton up short. Poor man. I felt a little sorry for him. Good thing the doctor got to him first. I don't know if I would have contained my own anger any longer.

 

You are lying in stasis, as a hologram, because it is the only way that the doctor could keep Voyager within your timeline. The doctor will explain to you the technicalites of that.

 

If I do not return, then this will be the last letter to you, my love. I don't know what dangers we may be encountering; everything is shrouded in such mystery.

 

I want to say that I love you. I want to stand on top of this ship and shout it to the universe and hope every living and breathing entity can hear me. You have made me whole again because I had been only a shell, a  vessel waiting to be filled by your grace and your love. It has been worth it, Kathryn. Every single touch of affection, every time you turned your head and looked at me with such a smile...it has been worth it.

 

Your last words to me were that you felt displaced, that you were here and not here. You looked so scared, Kathryn, that my heart bled for you. I've never seen you look like that. Only now when I think about it, I know it is because I saw in your eyes that, as much as I dreaded losing you, you dreaded losing me.

 

Someone or something polluted your timeline, Kathryn. We are going back to set history right for you so that once again, Kathleen O'Clair can be with the man she loved, and Kathryn Janeway can be with the man she loves. I find it so touching, and not entirely out of context, that in the Fairhaven programme which Tom wrote, you chose the name of Katie O'Clair. Did you know then that somehow, sometime, Katie O'Clair would be instrumental in ensuring the Janeway line? I think so, even if you never consciously chose it to be that way. The mind and the memory and all recollections we have as humans are wonderful and mysterious things. Sometimes we cannot explain things, but we just know, don't we?

 

I love you. I will love you to my dying day. I hope to be back, standing next to you when we make our vows. I hope to lie next to you in our bed and hold you in my arms and assure you over and over that never will I leave you. Once, you had been afaid that I would. I know. I sensed how you drew away from me a year ago. Let me tell you - as beautiful and aloof as she is, she could never, ever, be you. That is why I knew that I would wait, for I knew that the day would come that you would give me an unwavering look  and tell me "I love you, Chakotay", and that there would be no doubt in your mind as to the decision you made to come to me, not as my Captain, not as my fellow officer, not as my friend and confidant, but as my lover, as my beloved.

 

And so I take my leave of you, Kathryn. When I return and see your smiling face again, then I'll know; Kathleen O'Clair and Kathryn Janeway were not so different after all.

 

All my love,

Chakotay.

 

*

 

Chakotay held the PADD in his hand. He was now alone with Kathryn in the holodeck. The light was a low illumination so that the glow on her face made her look real, alive. He looked at his clothing again. Braxton had been very specific and he felt slightly uncomfortable in loose-fitting woollen trousers and baggy shirt buttoned high to his neck, with very little collar, and a jacket with patches on the elbows. He had opted for a soft woollen cap to cover the tattoo. By the time he realised that his tattoo would attract attention in Dublin, it was too late for the EHM to do anything to mask it. They had been too busy meeting Braxton's requirements for dress and studying the Temporal Protocols in his quarters and planning strategy for the mission in the hour they were given. Now, he just had to make sure no one noticed. The boots he wore were correct for the period. At the top of his trousers were two hidden pockets as Braxton had instructed. He had given each of them a 29th century commbadge which had to remain hidden on their person, as well as a site to site transporter, should they need to use one, although only in extreme circumstances. They had studied the Temporal Protocols and knew the rules as well as they could memorise them in the hour they were given to prepare for the away mission.

 

Now, dressed as a worker in late 19th century Dublin, he hoped he could blend in with the crowd and not startle anyone with his tanned appearance. Heaven forbid that anyone should pull off his cap and see the tattoo.

 

"You could say you've been to North Africa and they integrated you into a tribe. Then you can say that you only just returned as a relief worker in the breweries," Magnus told him. Magnus didn't look much different, although he had chosen to wear an ivy cap, the peak of which sat low over his forehead. He looked like a newsboy.

 

"You tell me how someone who could afford to travel to North Africa suddenly finds himself working in a brewery." he countered. 

 

Magnus smiled. "Down on your luck, maybe? Lost ten barefisted fighting contests?"

 

He had grinned and replied, "Let's hope  we don't get to that!"

 

Chakotay sighed. He placed the PADD next to Kathryn's head. Then he touched her face, caressing the cheeks that were still kept warm. She didn't stir and he almost wished that she  would. He so badly wanted to wake her up, but kept reminding himself that she was just a collection of photonic particles.

 

Yet, he remembered once when the Fairhaven folk called them spirit folk, that Kathryn didn't want to destroy the programme because she felt they had feelings too. He had shrunk back at the thought of creating a full functioning hologram of her. It just didn't sit right with him; it was as if he were sullying Kathryn's memory. She would speak with Kathryn's voice; she would even cry Kathryn's tears; she would walk and gesture like Kathryn, but at the back of his mind there was always the knowledge that she was a duplication of the real person.

 

Still, it was very difficult to let go. So very difficult. He rose and bent over her. What he had not wanted to do all day because it didn't feel right, he did now. He lifted her in his arms and held her close to him. Then he pressed his lips to hers in a tender caress. His eyes closed at the touch. Her lips felt warm and soft. On a sigh, he  broke contact and pressed the sleeping figure back down.

 

****** 

 

On the bridge they waited for Braxton's signal. The senior crew looked at them with great curiosity, although they all knew by now that the away team would be dressed in clothing of the period.

 

"I could live with that," Tom Paris announced.

 

"Magnus, will I get your cap when you get back?" asked Harry.

 

"Crewman Gilmore," gushed Neelix, "I must say you look ravishing in that dress!"

 

Marla smiled a little shyly. Her long dress, in dark turquoise, hugged her body, and her hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. Full skirted, the skirt billowed about her legs. She shifted uncomfortably and Chakotay realised that none of them were used to their new late 19th century outfits.

 

He turned to Tuvok.

 

"In my absence and that of the Captain, Commander Tuvok, you are temporarily assigned to the duty of Acting Captain."

 

Tuvok, who had been sitting in the command chair, now rose from his seat and faced Chakotay. He looked inscrutible as he raised his hands in a Vulcan salute.

 

"Live long and prosper..."

 

The next second, the bridge of Voyager vanished.

 

************* 

 

END CHAPTER TWO

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

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