PROLOGUE

2394

Admiral Kathryn Janeway walked slowly through a golden woodland. She wore a brown duffle coat over black trousers and black gloves covered her hands. On her head she wore a brown woolen hat, hiding her graying auburn hair. A soft west wind blew, rustling the leaves in the trees and every now and then a golden leaf fluttered gently to the ground. In the distance, a silver river flowed through the land. The whisper of the water sounded the same as it had done over fifty years before. Tears welled in her eyes as she remembered the times she had walked down this path as a child. Her father had often brought her and Phoebe here on warm summer nights and they had sat by the river and listened as he told them stories from history about cowboys and Indians. As she grew older, she had come here whenever she wanted to be alone. It was her haven, her sanctuary, the place where she had only ever known happiness, safety, and love.

She reached the riverbank now and gazed out at the beautiful scene before her. It was just as she remembered it. She could hear the laughter of yesteryear echo on the wind. She saw a young Kathryn Janeway sit on a rock, her long auburn hair blowing in the soft summer breeze. A tear ran down her cheek when she thought of all the pain that young girl would have to go through to become the woman who walked in her footsteps now. There had been so many tragedies in her life, so many heartaches. She thought of all those she had loved and lost. She thought of Justin, of Mark, and she thought of Chakotay. While it was destiny who had taken Justin from her and destiny who had separated her and Mark, it was she who had pushed Chakotay away. Her tears fell steadily as she remembered that night so long ago when he had told her in a beautiful ancient legend that he loved her. She had held out her hand to him and for the longest time they had just gazed into each others eyes. Then she had gone over to him and had tearfully put her mouth to his. He had kissed her in return and gathered her close, holding her safe in his arms. They had made love that night, sweet and tender love, and had fallen asleep in each others arms.

She had loved him so much, but had panicked when the crew came back for them. She had still foolishly believed then that they would make it home within a year or two. Another tear ran down her cheek as she remembered the pain in his eyes when she told him she couldn't be his captain and his lover. She told him they had to forget what had happened, never mention it again. And he never had mentioned it. It was she who had mentioned it first. He had found her one night in a deserted midnight Mess Hall, crying painfully. He sat beside her and asked her what was wrong. She told him she was pregnant with Jaffen's child. He had taken her in his arms and rocked her gently, telling her everything would be alright. She had held tight to him and for the first time in years had allowed herself to be comforted. He told her they could go back to Quarren, find Jaffen. She had drawn away at that, told him she couldn't add another year to their journey and that she didn't want Jaffen. She had wept, told him how she had ruined everything, how happy they could have been, how much she loved him, how much she wanted him. He told her he loved her too, which was why things hadn't worked out with Seven. He told her there could never be anyone for him but her. They had wept together, held each other long, and had made plans for a future that never came.

Kathryn walked along the river bank and remembered the day that was supposed to have been the happiest of her life. Everything had gone so well. There were no complications with the pregnancy and the Doctor said they shouldn't expect any with the birth. Then everything had gone so terribly wrong. She could remember screaming from pain and then all she could remember was waking up sometime later in sickbay. Chakotay was beside her, his hand holding hers, and his eyes were wet with tears. She knew then, she knew her baby was dead. She had cried out in absolute agony and not even Chakotay's loving arms around her could comfort her. She had suffered so much loss in her life, tasted too often the bitterness of death, but nothing compared to the pain she felt when she held her dead baby in her arms. He was wrapped in a beautiful white blanket that Naomi and Sam had made especially for him and his eyes were closed as though he was sleeping. She had kissed his tiny fingers, kissed his cheek, kissed the ridges on his forehead and his chin, and had stroked his soft red hair. He was so perfect, more beautiful than she could ever have imagined. Edward, she had named him, after her father. Edward Alexander Janeway. She had held him a long time, not wanting to let him go. She never wanted to let him go.

No one had told her how her son had died or what exactly had gone wrong. They just told her he had died. But she knew there was more. She could see it in Chakotay's face, in the Doctor's, and knew them well enough to know they were hiding something from her. When she was left alone in sickbay, she accessed her medical records, and there she found the terrible truth. Her baby had died because the Doctor had saved her life instead. What was left of her world fell apart then. When she screamed at the Doctor that he should have saved her baby, that he should have put the life of a child before her own, Chakotay told her that it was he who had told him to save her life instead. Weeping he told her that they had only had seconds to decide and that he had been so terrified at the thought of losing her that he had instinctively chosen her. She remembered all the terrible things she had said to him, remembered the way she had so heartlessly shut him out of her life. He had been hurting too, hurting deeply, but she had been so blinded by her own pain that she couldn't see his and didn't want too. In some ways she knew it must have been harder for him. She had someone to blame but he had to bear the heavy burden of guilt. In a year he had aged ten years. They both had.

Eventually she had come to see that it wasn't his fault, but by then it was too late to heal the rift between them. He and Seven had once more found each other and several months later they married. She had wanted to tell him that she didn't blame him anymore, wanted to at least heal their friendship, but whenever she tried, the words just never came. Then, only a few months after he and Seven had married, another tragedy struck. Seven was fatally injured in a vain attempt to defuse a bomb to save the lives of hundreds of men, women and children, on a colony belonging to the Olaran. Seven's death, after everything that had happened, had broken Chakotay and he was never the same again. She knew she had never been the same either. She had Seven had drifted apart over the years and a part of her had always been jealous of the way Seven had taken her place in Chakotay's life. For years she had tortured herself over whether that jealousy had caused her to allow Seven to go on a mission that she would never have allowed anyone else to go on. The guilt took away the last glimmer of light within her soul and left it a dark void.

In the difficult years that followed, she and Chakotay had turned once more to each other, but only as friends. They could never be lovers again. The time for them had passed and Chakotay had mourned his wife until his own death. He had been unwell for years, but had battled on against ill health to be at her side as they continued to try and get their crew home. After 23 years in the Delta Quadrant, they finally found a wormhole that carried them across ten thousand light years and left them only weeks away from Earth. With the knowledge of that, Chakotay had finally given into his illness, and died a month before they reached Earth. She had sat with him a long time afterwards, just holding his hand in hers. As her tears fell softly, she had remembered their lives together, had remembered the joy, the pain, and the suffering. Too much suffering. He was such a good, kind, man and had deserved only happiness. Perhaps, if he had never loved her, he would have been happy. She knew so much of his suffering was her fault. If only she hadn't pushed him away all those years, if only she hadn't pushed him away when her baby had died, if only she had married him when he had asked her and not insisted that they take things slow, give the crew time to get used to her having a child first ... if only Seven hadn't been killed ...if only ... if only ... There were too many if only's.

All she knew was that she had to change the history of their lives. That thought had been festering for years, especially since she had learnt that what she and the crew had thought was a nebula containing wormholes was actually a nebula containing a Borg transwarp hub. If they could get passed the Borg somehow, they could use the hub to get home. It would only be a small violation of the temporal prime directive, just a small one, and it would save the lives of so many and prevent so much pain and suffering. And her child would have the chance to live. In the Alpha Quadrant, doctors would be able to save her life and her baby's, she was certain of it. She would find a way of changing history. Somehow she would find a way, no matter how long it took, or what she had to suffer to accomplish it.

Kathryn reached into her pocket and pulled out a gold box edged with silver. She and the crew had honored her son's all too short life with a special service, but she hadn't been able to bear the thought of putting his tiny body out into space all alone. Instead they had cremated him and she had kept his remains in this box. The gold gleamed in the autumn sun and she kissed the lid before opening it. Then, with silent flowing tears, she let the ashes fall into the wind. She closed her eyes and imagined the smiling face, the heartfelt laughter, of a little red haired boy who would one day, when her final mission was complete, play here just as she had done over half a century before.

THE END