Captain Kathryn Janeway turned away from the little view port slowly,
away from the drifting stars she hoped –knew– she’d see once and only
once. It was with a little effort she turned away, since the light streaks on
the sky seemed to bring her inner an almost unexplainable feeling of
peace, but she estimated that she’d wasted enough valuable time staring
at the countless stars for that evening. After all, she would have time to
see more than enough of the like, during the 70 years to come.
Her cup since long empty, the porcelain had begun to cool down in her
hand, but instead of carrying it directly to the refresher, she placed it on
her coffee table. Doing that, she gave herself a chance to catch the last
glimpse for the night of the framed photo she’d placed there, too. It was
a picture of Mark and Molly in her old sofa, one of the last she’d taken
before she left for the Badlands.
She allowed herself to study it for a while, but when she felt the first
shivers of an impending tsunami of emotions, she tore her gaze away and
headed for the bedroom. Even as she turned her back to her living room,
she knew how she would begin the following morning. She would pick up
the cup, only to stop in mid-move when her eyes automatically travelled
over the wooden frame towards the, somewhat flat, appearances of her
former lover and beloved dog, meeting each in turn, as she did every
morning.
The open robe flapped uncontrollably around her calves as she headed
directly for the bed, wondering whether it really was wise to cling on to
certain things the way she did.
***
Kathryn fought to keep her eyes open, while sitting up in bed. Still
subjected to tiredness, she shook her head to clear her mind.
She expected her hair to flow over her shoulders the minute she moved,
like it always did… But this morning, the tingling sensation of strands of
hair touching her skin never came.
More than a little puzzled, Kathryn raked both hands through what hair
she could find. When her fingers had passed her ears, the length of hair
suddenly disappeared, and her fingers touched nothing but air.
The drowsiness was gone in the blink of an eye, and she was wide awake.
She scrambled out of bed, still tangled in the covers. She was still
searching for the rest of her hair when she finally stumbled into the
bathroom.
Well there, her fears came through. The face that met her in the mirror
had a couple of wrinkles around the eyes and the mouth, and an auburn
page-boy coiffure, quite short, which accentuated it.
What was this? Kathryn left the bathroom and headed for the living room.
Taken aback, she looked around. The sofa was the same, so was the
coffee table, the lamp and the bookshelves. Still, it wasn’t her living
room.
The cup wasn’t on the table, her uniform jacket wasn’t draped over the
back of the armchair, and she couldn’t even see her beloved photo of
Molly and Mark.
She took a few deep breaths and waited until she had accepted the
situation. Then, she asked the Computer for the stardate and the last
entry she’d made in her log. She quickly found out that the correct term
would be: the last entry her future self had made.
Still clad in her nightgown, she stared out the view port, as she’d thought
she’d done the very night before, though it turned out it had been nearly
seven years ago. There was a beautiful mauve nebula in the distance,
and Kathryn could be certain, that she would see the very same anomaly
again, though with eyes that had observed the stars of the Delta
Quadrant for over six years.
She felt out of place among the chatting crewmembers who had gathered
for breakfast in the mess hall.
She had tried to capture countless gazes from Maquis who wore Starfleet
uniforms, but only gotten nods for the effort, not a single spiteful glare.
Starfleet and Maquis were sitting at the same tables, talking, studying
each others’ PADDs, or simply having breakfast together.
Kathryn was fascinated, though careful not to let it show. She had
positioned herself in a corner as soon as she got there, and she had
barely sat down, before the Talaxian, Neelix, had come running to her
with a cup and a container. “I believe you missed the stop,” he’d chuckled
and poured her a steaming cup of coffee.
Continuing to look around, she wondered where Tuvok was. She was
certain he’d understand; thus, he could help her understand, too.
“Good morning, Kathryn!” A dark voice said next to her. Kathryn looked
up, hoping that it would be Tuvok, though knowing that it wasn’t, since
he’d never use her first name spontaneously like that.
It was Commander Chakotay, it turned out. He looked comfortable in his
uniform, Kathryn noticed. But then again, he didn’t have much choice.
“Good morning,” she began. “Have you seen Tuvok?”
“Tuvok? You sent him to that L-class moon two days ago.”
“Oh, right. Of course… I meant to ask if you’ve heard from him?”
“Harry might have.” Chakotay pulled out a chair and sat down in front of
her. “He really is fond of those night shifts.”
“I know, but I can’t understand why.” Kathryn elicited a knowing smile
from the Commander, even though she didn’t know what he associated
Harry Kim and night shifts with.
His company was not unpleasant, and Kathryn could sense their future
friendship, rather than take for granted.
“Will you settle for a salad?”
“A salad?”
“For our dinner tonight.”
“Oh… Yes, definitely. What kind of salad?”
“That will be a surprise.” He chuckled, giving her a warm smile.
Kathryn smiled back, wondering what ever happened to Seska.
***
A few minutes later, Chakotay had to leave for his shift, but Kathryn
stayed at her table in the mess hall. People came and went every now
and then, but she had yet to hear a harsh word or witness a poorly
disguised shove.
Every time the doors slid aside, her gaze was drawn towards them. Who
knew what they could reveal? One of those times, Harry Kim entered with
Tom Paris in tow.
Kathryn was glad that they both were alive and still friends. The young
ensign had cut his hair, and claimed a more experienced manner,
Kathryn noticed, with some satisfaction.
They both greeted her, before choosing a table and sitting down.
After another couple of minutes, the Chief Engineer joined the ones who
had decided to have breakfast in the mess. At first sight, Kathryn could
tell that there was something different with her. She had just begun to fill
her plate, when Kathryn understood. B’Elanna was pregnant.
Kathryn was certain she made a doubtful face, but felt unable to change
her expression. Luckily, she wasn’t the centre of attention. Poor Neelix
had slipped on some of his own porridge, and was now crawling around
on the floor. As soon as the Delaney twins had helped him up, Kathryn
returned her gaze to B’Elanna.
The engineer had just left the counter, and after watching Neelix slip and
fall, she headed towards Kim and Paris with her tray.
Kathryn bit her lower lip, unconsciously. The exchange of harsh words
seemed unavoidable as Torres’ gave locked with Paris’.
The Captain awaited the first sign of irritation, but none came. B’Elanna
simply put her tray down next to Harry’s, said something to him…
And then she leaned towards Paris and gave him, without ceremony, a
kiss on the lips.
The last sip of coffee suddenly seemed to get stuck in Kathryn’s throat,
making her cough and splutter. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Was this
really a part of her future? For a second, she was convinced that she was
stuck in a vivid dream, a strange holoprogram, or a mirror universe.
Mesmerized, she stood up, deciding to take a walk around the ship to
think things over.
***
The salad was wonderful; the young lettuce practically fell apart on the tip
of her tongue. Though she had missed out on six years of conversation,
Kathryn had been able to carry a somewhat fluent conversation with
Chakotay. He didn’t seem to notice something odd about her, and if he
did, he kept it to himself.
She took a sip of her chilled wine and wondered whether they’d ever
discussed tropical islands.
“This has been a lovely evening, Commander. We must do this again
sometime.” She was standing in his doorway, ready to say good night.
She felt more invigorated than she had done in a long time, and was reluctant to leave. Life on Voyager apparently could turn out quite satisfactory.
“We always do.” Chakotay answered, and gave her another one of those
warm smiles.
She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed just how warm they were before.
It never occurred to her that perhaps it hadn’t always been.
She smiled back, and wished him a good night. That invitation alone was
worth waiting years for.
She’d called up and skimmed through all entries considering time travel
she could find in her log, and there were quite a few. Time would simply
have to get used to the Janeway factor; to her flinging round in the past.
She wrapped the covers tightly around her body, still settled on not to
reveal herself to the crew.
The past did have its moments, but it held nothing against the future.
***
After what only seemed like minutes, Kathryn was awakened by red lights
and a shrill tone.
Another red alert. She bolted upright in bed, her hair flowed over her
shoulders and some loose strands sent tingling sensations up her spine.
She was back in the past again, certain she would find her cup on the
coffee table, close to the photograph. She scrambled out of bed and
headed for the uniform jacket draped over the back of the armchair.
As soon she had dealt with the threat to her ship, she’d gather her senior
officers and take a good look at them, especially her first officer. They
had a lot more potential than she gave them credit for.
She coaxed her hair into an untidy knot and exited her quarters.
No matter what awaited her on the bridge, she’d always have the future
to look forward to.
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