A question of timing

by TrekDr

Year of Hell ficlet. Someone is definitely not happy to have a birthday: the body clock is ticking away at reaching the big four zero, and there is a time bending species blowing your ship to pieces. A reminder then of time and your time lost is not likely to be a good gift however you dress up the story. J/C as always. Mild swearing. In canon. [not my characters, not for profit]

3. Chapter 3 - the end of time

Well, it is now or never.

The ship is only mine now. It is held together by pure stubbornness and determination, broken, patched and damn well up for a final fight and I match her. I am adamantine, durataniun and utterly resolute. This Captain is damn well going down with the ship, it is the only option left. I cannot leave her, my home and my heart are part of her. We have suffered too much. Resistance is never futile. Sometimes it is all we have left.

'Lanna attempts to change my mind, but that is indeed futile. I can see the plan unfold. It may be instinct, it may be a knack, or a lucky association of neurons that I can see some of the shadows and patterns and how they may join, but I know that Voyager is needed to make the difference. We are called. Hardest to say goodbye to Tuvok, a friend beyond compare. I know that I will see none of them again. This is truly it. They have all left, to where they should be safe. i am alone

I hold the beautiful chronometer in my hand, it is so personal, a gift from a true heart, and I let it give me what comfort it may. It has been on my belt since I found it, giving me strength to achieve what is required. I turn it over in my hands for the final time, feeling its smoothness, ticking the last minutes of Voyager, ah Chakotay, this Kathryn Janeway is not going to bring her ship home after all. It was exhilarating though whilst it lasted. I look around my empty bridge and see the ghostly shadow of my people manning stations in better times, a Voyager triumphant. I cannot ignore the sound of the last post playing in my head. For a short time, I knew love. It is enough. If this is to be it, then let us go out all guns blazing. I have had my moment, it is time to attack. I let the chronometer fall back to my belt, and take my place, take command of the fleet. It is time.

i am under no illusions. If we blast to hell this time ship of Annorax, it is likely that there will be a reset. We will all live, Voyager will be restored. If I blow the damned ship out of the sky, we will have no knowledge of this time. Chakotay and I will go back to my parameter filled standoff. Time, it has all been about time. I hold the chronometer, imprinting what I have learnt into it, my talisman to the future. If I have a hope, and I am damned short of hope, then I hope that this can be re-given in a better time, accepted with joy and be a reminder not to let what time we have slip through our fingers.

As the damage reports come in, I know, as I have always done, that this journey requires sacrifice. My sacrifice. Like my ship, I am battered, damaged, but i have the strength to do what is required. The conn is mine, all ship's controls routed through it. Chakotay and Tom are safe, there is nothing to stop me now. I can see what needs to be done. It is time to reset time. I have the heading, the gap is closing. There is a sense of peace and power in knowing that the resolution is finally here. Time's up.

I feel the crunch and then nothing, whispering his name and then there is nothing, time unravels... and is remade.