Once upon a time, Shayenne and Your Cruise Director wrote "Past, Present and Future Tense," in which KJ's fiddling with a temporal device landed her on Jonathan Archer's Enterprise (and in Archer's bed). A while back, I was inspired to write a sequel, which has been languishing on my hard drive.
I do suggest looking up the original story so that some of my references here make a bit more sense
Kathryn quietly slipped out to the darkened porch of the Science Museum, leaving the lights and the noise of the reception behind her.
He stood in the shadows, looking out at the city lights, his figure still familiar despite the civilian suit, despite the years that had passed since their encounter.
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. Ironic, she'd planned for everything except stage fright. No matter: She'd find the words, and hopefully, they would make sense.
Then again, not much had made sense since she left him.
Her first contact with home brought devastating news: Phoebe was dead. Three years after Voyager's disappearance, an aneurysm had burst in her little sister's aorta, and she'd collapsed in her studio.
Another blow was watching her mother's decline. With every letter, every vid call, she appeared even more frail and ill. It was almost too much in some ways. Tuvok, bless him, became her touchstone as she tried to cope. Though later, when she found out how ill he was, she felt guilty for taking her burdens to him.
When Voyager reached home, she was allowed to conduct some briefings and hearings from Indiana, so she could be there during her mother's final months.
Katie, we can't change what happened, but you need to go on, build a new life for yourself.
I don't think we need to worry about that right now, Mom.
You will at some point. Promise me you'll find someone special to share your life with, sweetheart. You deserve some happiness.
Later, in her room, she rummaged through her trunk until she found the small device. The temporal device she didn't have to use on Species 8742 … the device that landed her on the original Enterprise … and two very memorable nights with its captain, Jonathan Archer. She briefly lifted it to her lips, and put it back in the trunk.
After her mother's death, she sold the farm to a cousin and returned to San Francisco and Starfleet. In some ways, it was a mistake. Her students were earnest and respectful, her colleagues solicitous, but there were so many gaps … in culture … in war experiences. In many ways she felt like a ghost. Her crew had settled into their lives, and while she was happy to be rid of the responsibility, it just increased her isolation.
One sleepless night, she decided to unpack … three months in quarters, and she was still living out of her suitcases. The temporal device was still in her trunk … she hadn't told Starfleet about it; the brass was already unnerved by the future Admiral's device. She picked it up and let the memories wash over her
Who knows what we could have done, she thought.
She shook her head as an absolutely crazy notion took over. No, too risky …
But still, her mother's voice came back to her. You deserve some happiness.
Part of her work involved research into the weapons that Voyager brought back. Fortunately, it meant that she could work on her own, with no one to question or bother her. She could fine-tune the temporal device in the labs, or access the archives without leaving a trace. B'Elanna had taught her well.
She also bought an older shuttle, which she stashed in a rented mechanical bay, and spent her weekends refurbishing it.
Maybe it was actually having a plan, or just the activity involved in launching it, but she was finally beginning to feel like herself again. Owen Paris remarked on it after a meeting. "Oh, just decided that I need to keep myself busy," she said breezily.
When she was ready, she asked for an open-ended leave and sent most of her belongings to storage, save the ancient microscope her grandfather gave her, and a bit of precious cargo that she'd persuaded the Doctor to create for her.
She sent a message to Tuvok, timed to arrive after her departure … and headed into the past.
It was a leap of faith to start that device – a malfunction could have thrown her God knows where. But here she was in 2163. And Jonathan Archer, signer of the Federation Charter, newly retired Starfleet Chief of Staff, was standing within arm's reach.
Archer, for his part, had become aware that someone was behind him and casually glanced back … only to stop in shock.
"Hello, Jon," she said quietly.
He spun toward her now, looking very much like a man who had confronted a ghost.
"Congratulations, Admiral, on your retirement and on all your honors. You've had a busy career.
"Looks like I'm not the only one who's been busy, Captain," he finally managed to say.
She smiled as she walked toward him, stopping just at arm's length. "Actually, it's 'Admiral.' But here, I'm Dr. Janeway," she said huskily
He pulled his head back and gave her a long look. "You've cut your hair."
She laughed. "I did; a couple of years after I got back."
He reached as to touch it, but faltered, and she caught his hand as it went down. "So what's it been, Kathryn, eight or nine years?"
"For you, yes. For me, it's been six."
"So is this another accidental trip to the past?"
"No," she said, caressing his hand. "This is quite deliberate."
"What are you doing here?"
She looked him in the eye. "I came back to you. Sorry it took me so long."
His mouth dropped open, and for a moment Kathryn feared she'd made a major mistake. But in the next moment, he laughed, and in one swift move picked her up and twirled her around, then finished with a searing kiss./
Her apartment was a short walk away, and neither of them was in the mood for questions. They'd barely cleared the door when he pushed her up against the wall, and they frantically began to undress each other …
When Jon came to his senses, Kathryn was underneath him on the floor, and he could swear that he heard a dog whimpering.
"Oh, damn," Kathryn swore as she pushed him off and turned on the lights. When his eyes adjusted, he saw there was indeed a dog: a young beagle pawing at the door of a large crate.
"I'm sorry, little guy. I know supper's late," Kathryn said as she pulled him from the crate and deposited him in Jon's arms. "Meet Dart. I enjoyed Porthos so much that when it was time to get a dog, I decided on a beagle."
He laughed as the ball of fur wriggled in his arms and licked his face. "He looks just the way Porthos did at that age."
"Really?" Kathryn asked, neglecting to tell him the reason for that.
"So let me get this straight: You decided to walk away from your career and risk your life to get back to my time? You know, you're either crazy, or the most determined woman I've ever met. I hope I'm worth it."
"Perhaps it's a bit of both," Kathryn said. "And yes, you are.
Much later, she awoke in bed with the sun in her face. She could hear Jon in the other room, clanking Dart's food dishes as he talked to the dog. A bit later, he came in, clad only in boxer shorts and carefully carrying two mugs. Middle age had been good to him, she noted; the gray at his temples complimented his still-handsome features.
"Good morning," he said, leaning in for a kiss before he set the mugs down and climbed back into bed. He looked at her appreciatively. "You are still incredible, but I'm afraid I don't have the stamina that I used to."
"Well, maybe you just need some practice," she teased. "Still I think you did quite well, considering you're 200 or so years older than I am.
"Very funny," he said with mock indignation. He settled back into his pillow and picked up his mug. "Kathryn, let's start from the beginning," he said, his tone gentle, but serious. "Tell me what's happened, and why you came back ... and damn the timeline."
She told him her story … more than she should have, but at this point he needed to understand. "I know it sounds absolutely crazy, but through those last years on Voyager, and everything after, the one person I thought about was you. And I decided that rather than live with regret, I needed to find out what we could do together. So I used that temporal device to travel back here."
"So you plan on staying?"
"If you'll have me."
"I always wished you could have stayed," he said, pausing to watch the relief spread over her face like a ray of sun. "But help me understand this. Last time, you wouldn't tell me certain things because you were afraid of altering the timeline. Do you know something or do you just not care?"
"I don't know any special knowledge," she fibbed. "And there still are certain things I'm still not going to tell you. As for the rest, I just spent seven years altering a good many timelines. At least here, I can mitigate some of the risk."/
"How? I'm not a low-profile guy. We're bound to hit the gossip rags, if we haven't already.
She sighed. "I created a new identity for myself and inserted it into our archives. As far as the world knows now, Dr. Kate Janeway is a researcher in quantum cosmology.
"Not Starfleet?" He seemed genuinely surprised.
"Too risky; Starfleet's a small world, even smaller right now. That's also why I chose this time; you've retired, so you're out of the spotlight." At least for now, she thought.
"So … Kate?"
"That's what my family called me … Katie, actually."
"I like it … but seriously, how are you going to pass yourself off as a researcher? The academic community is pretty small, too."
"Actually, I just landed a teaching job in the physics department at Western."
He raised an eyebrow. "That's not exactly a top-tier institution. Let me talk to …"
"Oh, no you don't. That would just bring me unwanted attention. I know Western isn't top tier, but it has promise. And they needed a lecturer in a hurry, so they're not going to probe too far into my credentials. Besides, the president took a liking to me."
He looked around at the room then looked back at her. "So you have an apartment and a job? How long have you been here?"
"Five weeks," she replied.
He cocked an eyebrow. "Why didn't you contact me sooner?"
She just smiled. "Historical records aren't always accurate, or complete. I wanted to make sure you weren't involved, or married before I showed up at your door. I assume I was correct, and there isn't a Mrs. Archer out there wondering where the hell you are?"
"No," he said laughing. "There is not."
"Besides, I wanted to establish my cover story … as you said, you're not a low-profile guy. And I certainly didn't want you to think I was going to sponge off you."
He sighed. "Katie, are you sure about this? You're giving up your career and any contributions to your own society to live in a time that you've said seems , well … primitive."
She smiled sadly. "Funny thing about chasing a career, Jon. I've got a drawer full of medals; hours of accolades. And while I wouldn't trade some of my experiences, none of it will bring back my family or the other people I've loved. I think this time around I'd prefer to focus on the things that really matter.
He nodded as a sad smile played on his lips. "That I can understand," he said, "But aren't you worried that the Temporal Police will drag you back to your own time? That won't help either of us.
"I've had another run-in with them since our time together. I've discovered that some of them are not above bending the timeline when it suits them. I'm willing to push on this, just to see what they will allow." She shrugged. "Or like we talked about, maybe this is all supposed to happen."
Jon shook his head. "My former crew knows who you are. We're going to have to co-ordinate with them to keep your cover intact." He laughed. "Trip is going to enjoy needling me about this.
Trip? An alarm bell went off in Kathryn's mind. She could have sworn she saw Trip Tucker's name on a long-ago list of fallen Enterprise officers. Perhaps, she thought as Jon took her into his arms, her first temporal foray shook things up far more than she realized.
Chakotay was skimming through a student's paper when a phrase grabbed his attention. " … the Archer Loop, developed by Capt. Jonathan E. Archer in 2200 …"
"What the hell? Jonathan Archer never developed that tactic."
"Computer, call up files on Captain Jonathan Archer."
"Please specify: Admiral Jonathan Archer, or Captain Jonathan Edward Archer?"
"Who? Jonathan Edward Archer."
"Jonathan Edward "Jack" Archer, born 2165, was captain of the USS Kenworth from …"/
"Skip to family section."
"Son of Federation President Jonathan Archer and Dr. Kate Archer. Brother of noted musician and composer Charles Henry "Charlie" Archer. Do you wish to access images?"/
"Yes," he said as Captain Archer's face appeared on the screen. He certainly resembled the Jonathan Archer he knew from the history books, though there was something else about him …
"Images continuing," the computer intoned, as a family photo appeared. One look and Chakotay nearly jumped out of his chair. "Computer, date and circumstances of this image."
"2170. Ambassador Jonathan Archer and his family at the Federation Consulate on Andoria."
"Computer, enlarge portion with Ambassador Archer and his wife."
"This has to be a mistake," he breathed. Archer's wife was a dead ringer for Kathryn Janeway.
He'd combed the archives for more than an hour, but found precious little about Kate Archer, most of it in connection with her husband, plus a few papers on quantum cosmology. Finally, he found an interview with Charlie Archer.
This Archer also resembled his father, but his hair was red and his eyes a familiar, piercing blue.
"Dad, of course, made his name on the Enterprise long before Jack and I were born, but we still had quite a childhood. We spent part of it on Andoria, where Dad was the Federation ambassador. That's where I began my musical career, so to speak."
The film shifted to an interview with Jonathan and Kate Archer. Chakotay's eyes widened as he looked at the woman, who greatly resembled the Admiral Kathryn Janeway from the future.
"The boys were given toy flabbjellahs as a gift when we arrived on Andoria," Jonathan Archer began. Fortunately, they were just musical instruments, and not weapons."
"Jack wasn't interested, so they just sat in the playroom," Kate Archer chimed in. "But when Charlie was about three, he picked one up … "
Chakotay gasped. That voice … dear gods … there couldn't be another like it.
The film shifted back to Charlie Archer. "But you grew up in Paris," the interviewer continued.
"We did. Dad was on the Federation Council, then he became president. Actually, my Dad almost didn't take the presidency."
Why not?" the interviewer asked.
"Our parents kept our family life private. Especially Mom. She stayed out of the limelight to protect us, and to pursue her own interests, truth be told. Dad was afraid that the presidency would intrude on that, but Mom told him he had to do it. She was a big supporter of the Federation."
Chakotay caught his breath again as he saw an image of Kathryn … and he was sure now that it was Kathryn … standing next to Jonathan Archer as he was sworn in as Federation president.
He stopped the video and sat, head in hands, as he tried to process this.
After Voyager's first contact, he'd been too shocked by Sveta's letter to pay attention to Kathryn, or anyone else for that matter. Later, he'd heard about her sister's death, and offered condolences. She just gave him a sad smile and nodded her thanks.
He hadn't pushed it; they had been drifting apart anyway, so he never realized that Kathryn was isolating herself from the crew. When Seven showed an interest in him, he was flattered and decided to pursue it. And when Voyager returned home in a blaze of glory, he and Seven had left as soon as they could.
They lasted about six months, five months past the point where they should have packed it in. He traveled for a bit, then joined his sister in Trebus to help with the rebuilding.
Somewhere along the way, he realized that he missed Starfleet. He also began to realize that he also missed Kathryn.
An overture to Starfleet paid off, and within a couple of weeks, he was sitting in the Provost's office at the Academy, interviewing for a faculty spot. On his way out, he asked the secretary for Kathryn's office number. She frowned as she scrolled through the numbers.
"I'm sorry, sir. There's no office listing for her. Her number and communicator frequency are listed as inactive."
"You mean she's on a mission?"
The secretary looked again. "No, there's no ship listing. This says she's on indefinite leave."
Back at the hotel, he called Tom and B'Elanna. They filled him in on what had transpired in Kathryn's life. "But then she disappeared," Tom said, shaking his head. "She apparently cleaned out her accounts and took off. We haven't heard from her; far as I know, neither has anyone else."
On a hunch, Chakotay made one more call.
"I received a message from her over a year ago, sent just after she left. I believe the timing was deliberate," Tuvok said.
"Did she say where she was going?"
"No. Her message said that she was going to look for someone she once had to let go; she was hoping that it was not too late for them to have a life together."
For one fanciful moment, Chakotay thought perhaps she meant him. "Did she say who this person was?"
She did not," he said quietly. He paused for a moment. "I must tell you that I believe that Kathryn has died."
Chakotay sat back in shock. "What do you mean?"
I considered her to be part of my family; we shared a bond that made me aware of her presence, even if we weren't in the same place. Shortly after I received the message, I no longer was aware of her presence …"
He sighed and restarted the video. Charlie Archer's face filled the screen again.
"While Dad was my hero, my mother is the one who had the greatest influence on me," Archer continued. "She encouraged me and Jack to look ahead, to find a better way to do things. That was a great help to me and to my brother in our careers."
"What was your mother like?" the interviewer asked.
"Mom had a wicked sense of humor … Someone once asked what the age difference was between her and Dad. She grinned and said, 'Oh, about 200 years.' So that became a family joke that annoyed Dad to no end.
"Toward the end of her life, I asked her why she was so forward-thinking. With a perfectly straight face, she told me that she always knew what was going to happen because she came from the 24th century. We both had a good laugh over that one …"
Chakotay halted the playback and sat for a moment before he tapped his communicator.
"Chakotay to Tuvok."
"Tuvok here, Captain."
"Can you meet me in the archive room? I believe I know what happened to Kathryn."
Tuvok, along with Tom and B'Elanna, sat in shock as they watched the video and read the archive files.
Tom shook his head. "I've never heard of this maneuver. I'm not familiar with this captain, either, but there are Archer descendants in Starfleet. Dad knows a Henry Archer in Intelligence.
"But look at those photos," B'Elanna said. "That's her … it has to be her."
Tuvok, who looked more shaken than Chakotay could ever recall, finally spoke. "If this is indeed the Kathryn Janeway we know, then the question is, 'How did she get to the 22nd century?'"
"She obviously had to have a temporal device," B'Elanna said.
"Well, there was the one from the other Admiral Janeway," Chakotay said.
"That one's locked down, though I suppose she might have gotten access to it," B'Elanna replied.
"What I don't get," Tom said, "is Archer. Is he the guy she wanted to have a life with? And how the hell would she have met him?"
"I know we got back to what, 1995, with that Braxton business," B'Elanna said. "Any chance she could have been thrown forward to his time then without our knowing it?"
Tom shrugged, but Chakotay was lost in thought. "There was a time, around the third year out there, she took a shuttle out to scout a nearby anomaly. She missed her check-ins … she was gone nearly 18 hours. When she got back, she'd only say that she'd gotten a bit too close and the engine was stalled out for a time."
"Do you believe it is possible that she was pulled into a temporal rift?" Tuvok asked.
"Maybe; but it would be almost impossible to pinpoint that for a return trip," B'Elanna said. "I wonder if she had a temporal device that she kept secret. It's the only thing that makes sense right now."
"So how do we prove this?" Tom asked. "Compare her DNA scans to this other captain to see if he's her son?"
Tuvok shook his head. "Those records would be sealed."
"And good luck trying to explain why we want them," Chakotay muttered./p
"It does appear that the timeline has changed significantly … and unevenly," Tuvok pointed out. "We all have memories of being on Voyager with Kathryn Janeway. It is surprising that the temporal police have not been involved."
"True," Tom replied. "On the other hand, it looks like her family has made some significant contributions. Maybe the temporal police don't want the headache of undoing that. Or maybe they can't do it. Or maybe it's a temporal loop."
"Does it matter now?" B'Elanna asked. "If she did go back to that era … she's been dead for many years." She looked at one of the photos on the screen, of Kate Archer sitting with two young boys, laughing delightedly at something. "You know, she looks happy. "
"And here, she hadn't been happy for a long time," Tom finished for her.
After the others left, Chakotay sat, just looking at the photo. He finally ordered the files shut down, but not until he'd done one more thing ...
The crowd was gone now, but Sam Archer stood by his father's now-filled grave, not quite willing to leave. A twig snapped behind him, and he looked over to see his cousin Bill.
"How are you?" he asked, laying a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam just shrugged.
"I know, I miss my dad, too." He looked out over the graves, his gaze falling on the largest stone with "Archer" engraved on it. "Quite a legacy. Our dads, granddads … especially our great-grandparents."
"It is," Sam agreed. "Amazing how two people accomplished so much. I wish I could have known them."
"I really wish I'd known Grandma Kate; sounds like she was a pistol." Bill chuckled. "Did Uncle Charlie ever talk about that story she told near the end of her life? That she was really a Starfleet admiral, from this century yet?"
"Yeah … yeah, he did. Sometimes I wondered if Granddad actually believed it."
"Well, he was pretty old by the time we got to know him. Actually, I was thinking about that the other day. A friend of mine works for the Federation; he was telling me a story about that battle up at Wolf 359."
"That was what, five, six years ago? Some kind of automaton? Borg?"/
"Yeah, Borg. He said there was a rumor that Starfleet had advance intelligence from an anonymous source, plus a method for neutralizing those things."
"What does your brother have to say about that? After all, Hank's a Starfleet admiral."
Bill laughed. "Hank is in Intelligence. He doesn't say anything, just gives me that mysterious smile of his."
Sam chuckled. "I bet he does." He gave his cousin a nudge. "Now you aren't trying to tell me that Grandma Kate spoke from beyond the grave?"
Bill just laughed again. "I highly doubt it. But it would make a hell of a novel, wouldn't it?"
Sam nodded as he glanced at the large gravestone again. "Hmm, someone left something up there … let's go see."
They walked toward it, only to stop short a few feet from the grave and turn to each other in confusion and shock.
On the stone's ledge, just below the line, Kathryn "Kate" Archer, 2121 – 2250, lay a modern Starfleet officer's jacket, topped with a set of admiral's bars … and a white peace rose.