Star Trek Voyager characters are the property of Paramount Pictures.
This story was originally written for the Janeway Lives Challenge, following her death in the Star Trek books BEFORE DISHONOR and FULL CIRCLE. Thankfully, due to the effort of fans, Janeway is back in the Star Trek Universe where she belongs :)
THE PATH UNTAKEN
2385
When a great person dies, for years the light they leave behind them lies on the paths of men.
With a single red rose in his hand, Chakotay looked up at these words on Kathryn's monument. It had been five years since her death, five long and lonely years, and his heart was still grieving. He knew it always would. Not a day went by when he didn't think of her, and while he tried to remember her with joy, he missed her so much that all he felt at her memory was pain. Kathryn was the love of his life, and the thought of spending the rest of his life without her, of never seeing her beautiful smile again, or hearing her raspy voice, still tore him up with an inconsolable grief. Perhaps, if fate had been kinder and they'd shared some years of happiness before she'd died in the line of duty, then her passing would be easier to bear, but they had lost each other just when they had found each other. All his dreams had come true in an instant, and then, by a cruel twist of fate, in an instant they had been shattered.
How he had survived the grief, he did not know. Perhaps because Kathryn had taught him how. When his family had been massacred by the Cardassians, his sisters raped and murdered, the pain had been so overwhelming that avenging their deaths by joining the Maquis was the only way he had coped. But then Kathryn had come into his life, a woman who had known and conquered grief herself, a brave and moral woman who had set a course for home and never wavered in her faith that they would get there, a woman who had made his life worth living again. She had taught him that there was life after the death of loved ones, that a hurting heart could heal and love again. And in that love, in that love for her, he had found a joy he had never known before. She mesmerized him, captivated him, and nothing made him happier than being by her side. Losing her had been his greatest fear in the Delta Quadrant, and that fear had sometimes made him overprotective, but deep in his heart he had never really thought she would die. She was larger than life and the one constant on Voyager that everyone could depend on. He thought she would live forever.
But now she was gone.
The woman he had loved more than life, was gone. Her death had taken him back to that black pit of despair she had raised him from, to that hell it was cruel for anyone to live through twice. After losing almost everyone he had ever loved in such a violent way, why did he have to lose Kathryn too? She was the only person in the universe that he really needed, needed as much as a river needs rain or the desert sand, and without her he was lost. But somehow he had gone on living, if the life he led now could be called living, and he had done so because Kathryn would have wanted him too. If he didn't, if he didn't at least try to live life to the full, then he was betraying her memory and everything they had meant to each other. But it was hell, some days more than others, and today, her birthday, was one of those days.
Tearfully, Chakotay knelt on the grass beneath him and tenderly placed the rose in a vase at the base of the monument. It was raining hard and his tears mingled with the rain as they fell onto the flower of love. Then he touched the monument's white marble, touched it as though it was Kathryn, and closed his eyes to imagine that it was. But the pillar was cold, hard, and in his arms that one and only night they'd shared together, Kathryn had been warm and soft. As he remembered that night, remembered their kisses and caresses, their words of love and promises of tomorrow, grief once again overwhelmed him. Hardly able to breathe, he looked up at the weeping sky and cried out in agony:
"Why did you have to die, Kathryn? Why then? Why that way? Don't you know that I need you?"
But there was no answer. There was never an answer.
In the heavens above him a bolt of lightning tore through the clouds and Chakotay looked at the spot long after the phenomenon was gone.
Lightning.
Every time he saw lightning it reminded him of the path untaken. Of a single decision he had made long ago that had changed the course of all their lives forever. It was the only momentous decision he had ever made during their journey home without consulting Kathryn, and he bitterly regretted it. If only he did not remember it. For so long he had not. But then, one stormy night on Earth, a bolt of lightning had brought the memory back. He had wept then, grieved and died anew. If only he had chosen differently. If he had, maybe Kathryn would still be alive.
"I'm sorry," he wept. "I'm so sorry."
Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky and for a moment, just a moment, Chakotay felt Kathryn's presence. A warmth enveloped him, as though she was embracing him, and in that sacred moment, that all too short moment, he felt at peace.
It was the first time, and the last time, since her death that he would.
2378
For the best part of two weeks, Voyager had been flying through a pulsating anomaly. What exactly the phenomenon was, they did not know, but it was a mammoth phenomenon that spanned light years. To go around it, in any direction, would take a year, so after a consensus had been reached that the anomaly was an inconvenience, not a danger, they had decided to travel through it. This would take only a month. For most onboard, the trip was proving an interesting and pleasurable one. The anomaly was a shimmering rainbow of colors and alive with spectacular electrical phenomenon that was sometimes like a million fireworks bursting at once or a thousand lightning bolts dancing together in harmony.
Lightning.
Kathryn was afraid of lightning. Chakotay knew this as she had confessed it to him twice. The first time was during the storm that battered their shelter on New Earth. The second was after the temporal anomaly that had, unbeknown to her, shattered Voyager into different time-frames. Of course, she was doing her best, and successfully, to hide her fear from the crew, and this she was managing by absenting herself from the bridge as much as possible and leaving him in charge. So far, the lightning storms had not lasted long, rarely more than an hour, but now Voyager was entering the heart of the anomaly, they were intensifying. According to Seven's latest report, this present one would last until midnight. This report Chakotay read in his office, as he was taking a moment's break from the bridge, and immediately it filled him with concern for Kathryn. It was now only 19:00 hours. This meant five more hours of the lightning spectacle. It had lasted two already. He would have to kill two birds with one stone and break the news to her in person while checking up on her at the same time. Her shift had finished at 18:00 hours so she was now in her quarters.
When Chakotay arrived at her quarters, Kathryn was a while in answering his rings. But then, at last, the doors opened. Chakotay stepped into her lounge, expecting her to greet him, but instead he found her at her replicator. It was open and she was sitting on the floor fiddling with some components.
"Hi," Chakotay said.
At the sound of his voice, Kathryn looked up at him and relief filled her face.
"Oh, Chakotay," she said. "I'm glad it's you."
Chakotay went over to her and knelt beside her. "This glorified toaster playing up again?"
"Not really," she confessed, "I just...well...if someone comes looking for me I need to make it look like I'm doing something other than listening to music with a blindfold on."
Chakotay laughed softly. "How are you holding up?"
"To tell you the truth, not so good. These damn strikes are getting worse."
"Unfortunately. And they will for some time."
Kathryn paled. "How long?"
"At least until midnight."
Kathryn groaned and buried her head in her hands.
Gently, Chakotay put his hand on her shoulder. "My shift ends in an hour. How about we spend some time on the holodeck? It's been a while since we took a moonlight sail."
Kathryn looked up at him and smiled gratefully. "That would be good. Thank you."
Chakotay smiled and was about to speak when Harry's voice spoke through his commbadge.
"Kim to Chakotay. Please report to the bridge."
Chakotay responded. "On my way."
As the connection terminated, he squeezed Kathryn's shoulder and got to his feet. "See you in an hour, holodeck 2."
Kathryn nodded. "I'll be there."
"Report," Chakotay said as he walked on to the bridge five minutes later.
Harry answered. "I'm getting some exciting readings from within this anomaly, Sir. I think they're wormholes."
Chakotay went over to the ensign's station and looked at the data displayed.
"That's entirely within the realm of possibility," he said. "How far away are they?"
"About fifty light years."
Fifty light years. Not too far away, but at present speed, reaching them would take over two months.
"I think we should change course and investigate," Harry went on. "There are at least twenty wormholes, if that is what they are, and we might find one that leads to the Alpha Quadrant."
Chakotay hesitated. If these readings were indeed wormholes, then certainly there was every chance that one would take them closer to home, but on the other hand they could be nothing more than anomalous activity. In normal circumstances, he would be all for an investigation, Voyager had enough reserves to last four months and every possibility of a path home was surely worth pursuing, but Kathryn was counting the days until they were through this anomaly and he didn't want to prolong her ordeal more than was necessary. It was possible they would find a wormhole leading to the Alpha Quadrant, but logic told him it was unlikely. All the investigation was likely to do was waste time and resources and put Kathryn through hell for nothing. It was better to stick to the course at hand.
"Fifty light years is two months away," he declared. "Two months is a hell of a detour. We'll stick to our present course."
"But, Sir..." Harry protested, "this may be our way home!"
"I'm not prepared to waste time and resources investigating readings that are, in all probability, nothing more than anomalous phenomenon."
"They are wormholes, I'm sure of it."
"No, ensign, you are not sure of it. You cannot be sure of it. You only believe that they are because you hope that they are. That is not good enough. We will keep to our present course."
"But, Sir..."
"That's my final word, Ensign! We will not pursue this and I don't want to hear another word about it! Understood?"
Harry battled between defiance and duty, but in the end duty prevailed. "Yes, Sir."
"Good. Now, clear these readings and return to your scheduled task."
With that, Chakotay left the bridge and returned to his office.
By the time Chakotay made it to the holodeck to meet Kathryn, the lightning spectacle was in full glory. Outside Voyager's windows thousands of strikes danced off their shields and almost everyone onboard was watching them. This meant that the holodeck was deserted. Kathryn was waiting for him on the deck of a beautiful yacht, and beneath a silver moon, they ate a lovely meal together. Then they enjoyed the sights and sounds of the sail, before retreating to the yacht's cabin to play a game of chess. The game lasted until the early hours of the morning, and by the time it was over, so was the lightning spectacle. Kathryn and Chakotay left the holodeck for their quarters and, as they said goodnight outside hers, Kathryn thanked him for sacrificing a once in a lifetime experience to keep a brontophoic company. Chakotay had laughed, told her the evening had been a pleasure, and they'd parted on a happy note.
But Chakotay's dreams that night were far from happy. They had begun well, heavenly in fact, but had soon become his worst nightmare. Voyager was home, having got home through a borg transwarp aperture, and he and Kathryn were a couple. In the surreal existence of a dream, scenes and times merged into each other, and one moment they were celebrating their return, the next they were making love. Chakotay murmured at the intensity, feeling the pleasure, and then...and then he was in Venice. The air was sweet, full of expectation, and he was waiting for Kathryn. Waiting, and waiting. But she didn't come. Kathryn was dead. Kathryn was a monument in a park.
Pain, unbearable pain, knifed Chakotay's heart and he woke up suffocating. It was only in the stillness of his bedroom, in the comforting awareness that what he had just lived through was a nightmare, that the tightness in his throat eased and his heart rate slowed. Sweating, he lay back down and took calming breaths, but just when something resembling composure descended on him, a soft golden glow filled the room as the lights came on. Chakotay sat up, his senses on alert, and gasped when he saw Kathryn sitting at the foot of his bed.
Kathryn, yet not Kathryn.
This Kathryn was in a gray Admiral's uniform and her hair was swept up from her face in a bun. There was an aura about her too, some undefinable essence, that put him in awe and in fear all at once.
"Hello, Chakotay," she smiled.
Chakotay closed his eyes, thinking that when he opened them she'd be gone, that he was still dreaming, but when he opened them, she was still there.
"I know what you're thinking," she said, "that you're still dreaming, but I assure you that is not the case. I'm really here."
"Who...who are you?" Chakotay asked.
"I'm the Kathryn from your dream," she said.
"From my dream," he frowned, "but that's..."
"Impossible? No. I sent it to you. A dream can be many things. This one was a window into the future."
Chakotay swallowed. "The future. Then..."
Kathryn nodded. "I'm dead. But I'm only dead in body. You were right, we never really die. Our spirit lives on forever. But I dwell in the continuum, not in Elysium. That's because it isn't my time to die. By getting Voyager home the way we did, the way you saw in your dream, we sent chaos through the fragile fabric of time. That chaos still exists and will until the wrong is righted. You have to right it."
"How?"
"You have to take the path untaken."
Her words immediately struck home. "The wormholes," he said quietly.
"Yes. You will find one that leads you to where you are supposed to be."
A tear ran down Chakotay's cheek. "Then your death, all the suffering, it was my fault."
"No," she answered. "If there is one thing I've learnt from the Continuum, it's that the universe is bigger than ourselves, bigger than a single choice. We are all just a stitch in an eternal tapestry. Many choices led to my death, a thousand paths, a million threads. But this night is where they must unwind. Some moments must be fixed in time forever, otherwise the fabric falls apart. When time unravels, time will re-stitch itself."
The officer in Chakotay began to assert himself now. "How can I trust you are what you seem?"
"Because you have to. Because in your heart you know you've made the wrong choice. Call me your voice of conscience."
Chakotay shuddered.
"You must take the path untaken," she said again. "Promise me you will."
Chakotay could do nothing else. "I promise."
Kathryn smiled. "Then I can go now. But before I do, remember Venice. This time, I will be there."
Her eyes gazed at him with infinite warmth and tenderness, and then she disappeared.
For a long time Chakotay didn't move, he just stared where she had sat, trying to absorb what had happened, trying to determine if it really had. But he was awake, he was sure of it, and if he was awake then what had transpired was real. In his mind he saw again Kathryn's monument in the park, that white marble pillar that foreshadowed her death, and that horrifying image was enough to move him to action.
"Computer," he said. "Open a channel to the bridge."
The computer instantly responded. "Channel open."
"Chakotay to Kim."
Harry responded in seconds. "Kim here."
"I've had a change of heart. Set a course for the suspected wormholes."
Harry's joy was evident in his voice. "Right away, Sir. Kim out."
As the connection closed, Chakotay got up and replicated himself a hot chocolate. There was no way he could sleep now. His mind was too unsettled. It would take him a long time to forget the dream, if he ever could, and he would always remember Kathryn's visit. It chilled him to think how one choice, one impulsive decision, had changed the course of all their lives. But Kathryn was right, fate is a million choices, an infinite number of intertwined destinies, and his part in that tragic future had been but a small one. That future would never happen now, and for that he could only thank the gods. They would find a wormhole, Kathryn had assured him, and it would either take them closer to home or all the way. So, instead of thinking about the tragedy that could have been, he would think about the triumph that lay ahead, of everything good that the dream and Kathryn had promised. They had promised a better tomorrow, a tomorrow in which he and Kathryn would face the future side by side, the promise of a love requited. He would remember Venice.
March, 2380
In the crimson glow of a setting sun, Chakotay walked with Kathryn along the frothy shore of a glorious Hawaiian beach. They had long walked away from civilization and were now alone amongst the birds and the crabs that inhabited this remote spot. It was the first time in all their years of knowing each other that they were truly alone out of a command structure. After nine years in space, Voyager had got home two days ago, and it was only now that the celebrations were finally over. Every crewmember had left the hotel for the bosom of friends or family, and only the ship's former Captain and First Officer remained. For dedicated and outstanding service, Kathryn had been promoted to Vice Admiral, and Chakotay and the other Maquis had been exonerated. Starfleet were eager to welcome Chakotay back into the fold, even going as far as talking about making him a captain, but while that avenue might have interested him once, now it did not. There was only one place he wanted to be in the future, and that was at Kathryn's side. Space would always fascinate him, would always hold an allure, but home is where the heart is and his heart dwelt with Kathryn. He had made it clear to Admiral Paris that his interest was in teaching, and the Admiral had promised to do all he could to get him a post at the Academy. If that came to fruition, he would gladly accept the post.
As they walked, he and Kathryn talked about the incredible journey that had brought them together and the twists of fate along the way. They remembered the people they had met, the aliens they had encountered, the battles they had won, the battles they had lost, the good times, the bad times, the times when they had come close to getting home, the times when getting home had seemed forever out of their reach, and they remembered the wormhole that had finally brought them from the delta quadrant to the alpha. It had taken them another two years to get home, but that wormhole in that rainbow anomaly had been the gateway.
"When you told me how long it would take us to reach the wormholes," Kathryn said, "I almost cried. Two weeks of those damn strikes had been torture enough. I didn't know how I would survive two months. In fact, alone in my quarters I did cry. Wouldn't that be a piece for the media? Voyager's tough captain turns to jello at lightning!"
Chakotay smiled. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Everyone's afraid of something."
"And you, Mr Chakotay, what are you afraid of?"
Chakotay stopped walking, turned to her, and looked deep into her eyes. "Of losing you."
These words rendered Kathryn speechless and all she could do was gaze at him, hope and joy in her eyes.
"I love you, Kathryn. I know you know that, but what you might not know is just how much. I love you more than...more than a million times all the grains of sand that make up this beach and every beach throughout the universe. On Voyager I couldn't say it, but we're not in a command structure anymore so I can speak what's in my heart." Hoping he was reading the anticipation on her face correctly, he slipped his arms around her waist and drew her body against his. "I can also do this..."
Softly, he lowered his lips to hers and kissed her. Kathryn kissed him back and wrapped her arms around his neck as the kiss deepened. It was the kiss they had both longed for, the kiss they had both dreamt of, it was the kiss of a lifetime.
"You know," Kathryn said when they finally drew apart, "the same applies to me. Now I'm no longer your captain, I can tell you that I love you. I love you more than...hell, more than I love coffee."
Chakotay laughed.
"I just wish you weren't leaving for Trebus tomorrow. I know that you must, but I'm really going to miss you."
"I'm going to miss you too. But I'll only be gone three months. The time will fly by."
"Hardly. I'm going to be counting the days and the hours."
"Me too. So how about we give ourselves a time and a place to countdown to?"
Kathryn smiled. "I was just going to suggest that. What about..."
Chakotay said the word just as she did. "Venice."
Kathryn flinched. "How do you...?"
"Something a future you said to me once."
"A future me? No, wait, let's not get into that. A headache is the last thing I want tonight."
Chakotay smiled, dimples showing. "Got plans?"
"Big ones. But shall we...Venice?"
Chakotay nodded. "Now, tell me more about your plans for tonight."
"Well," Kathryn smiled. "They go something like this..."
With that, she raised her lips to his and kissed him. Chakotay kissed her in return and the world around them faded away.
June, 2380
Beneath the light of a silvery moon, Chakotay waited at a waterside cafe in Venice for Kathryn to meet him. The summer air was warm, sweet, and in the background soft music was playing. He was a little early, but as he'd got back from Trebus ahead of schedule, there was no where else he wanted to be. And yet, as he waited, there was a trepidation in his soul, an anxiety at the memory of what had happened in that dream of long ago.
Sipping wine and gazing out at the glittering water of the canal, Chakotay tried not to look at his watch. But, as time ticked on and there was still no sign of Kathryn, Chakotay found himself glancing at it. She was now five minutes late. Five became ten and then ten became twenty. Chakotay tried not to succumb to the sinking feeling inside, the dread and the horror simmering within. Instead, he tried to hold on to the promise, to the promise that ethereal Kathryn had made to him that night, the promise that this time she would be here.
And then she was.
Heels clattered on the cobbles, and when he looked up from his watch, Chakotay saw Kathryn approach. Her fine auburn hair was loose over her shoulders, long as it had been when they'd first met, and she was wearing a stunning dress of blue velvet. Chakotay's heart skipped a beat and he wanted to laugh and cry all at once.
His Kathryn had come. His Kathryn was alive.
Their eyes met across the divide and Kathryn smiled a smile that took his breath away. Then, she was standing before him.
"Waiting for someone, Sir?"
"Yes," Chakotay smiled. "But not anymore."
He then got to his feet, opened his arms to her, and they held each other joyfully.
THE END