Chapter 3

Chakotay was going over B'Elanna's report on the upgrades when someone rang the bell to his quarters. "Come in," he called before taking a sip from his coffee.

The door opened and revealed Annika, the older version, on the other side. "Chakotay," she greeted with a nod.

He returned his attention to the report, hoping his expression didn't reveal his disappointment that it wasn't Kathryn coming to him for advice. In fact, the depth of his disappointment surprised him.

"Annika," he replied quietly in acknowledgement as he invited her to sit across from him with his hand.

Annika stood in the doorway for a moment, looking straight at him, her gaze as sharp and efficient as ever as it traveled across his face, as if calculating odds or trying to find an algorithm that would give her the answer she was apparently looking for. Chakotay was used to this stare by now, and had even learned to find it endearing, yet still found it disconcerting.

Eventually she walked closer but didn't sit, and he inhaled, unsure what to make of this entire paradox, or what to expect from this older version of the person he knew. He had asked Seven how she felt about having Annika here, but perhaps the question he should ask was why it made him so uncomfortable.

At last she spoke. "You need to speak to the captain on my behalf," she stated quietly, resolutely.

That was not what he had expected. He exhaled, both annoyed and relieved at once. He shook his head as he set his mug down on the coffee table. "I'm with Captain Janeway. I would rather strike a possibly fatal blow at the Borg and make a difference in the grand scheme of things, then give in to my hopes of going back to the Alpha Quadrant sooner. Besides, what you're suggesting, as tempting as it is...it's selfish, and irresponsible. Not to add at an extreme risk to this crew."

"Yes. I would not have expected this crew, and even less you, to agree without carefully weighing the consequences. But these… feelings you spoke of, are irrelevant."

Feeling increasingly annoyed at her audacity, Chakotay took in a long breath. "Tell me something, what gives you the right to choose for Captain Janeway, for this crew?"

For the first time she lowered her gaze and Chakotay recognized the woman he knew in the flicker of emotions that quickly crossed her face. While he had thought that maybe this Seven/Annika had not gone through the same acceptance of human feelings as the one he knew, he now realized that it was not the case. This Annika was just better at concealing them. Maybe she had gone through the same process as Seven was at the moment, but in time had reverted back to using logic and reason as driving components of her personality. It was fascinating, in a way.

"I know what value Captain Janeway places on not disrupting the temporal prime directive," she replied, "but believe me when I say, doing as I say would save this crew an extraordinary amount of torment and sorrow."

This piqued his curiosity. So the captain had been right then, in suggesting that Annika was not only trying to get Voyager home, but also to prevent something from happening. The captain may place a high value on the temporal prime directive, but he didn't share her qualms. "Tell me," he requested as he dropped B'Elanna's report on the coffee table. "I need to understand your motivation."

She looked distraught for a brief moment, but then her sharp gaze returned to his face as she straightened her shoulders and linked her palms behind her back. "There were casualties, ones from which many of us found impossible to fully recover."

Chakotay had half expected this argument, and though he didn't like the sound of casualties, he had long come to peace with the fact that death was part of life. "While none of us wishes to die, we are all too aware that it could happen anytime, Annika. It's a risk we've all agreed to take by staying on Voyager."

She gave an annoyed sigh. "Let me be more specific, then. If Captain Janeway does not change her course of actions, she will die – four days from now, precipitating a series of events and deadly encounters with the Borg that will tear this crew apart."

Shocked by this revelation, a prediction of the captain's death, Chakotay let himself fall back against the back of his couch. He couldn't quite imagine how that would impact him and the crew – it was too improbable, too impossible to even fathom. True, he had lost count of the number of times he had thought Kathryn gone over the last few years, but she'd always come back, and with the same fierce commitment to bring her crew home. At the same time, however, he also remembered all too well the despair, pain and emptiness that these near-death experiences had generated in him. They'd left their imprints in scar tissue in his heart. He had no wish to repeat the experience – yet who was he to make that choice? If he could give his life for his captain, he would, gladly, but change the course of history? He wasn't sure if he was prepared to do that. Not even to spare her life.

Annika's gaze shifted out of focus, as if lost in her own thoughts. Her voice was subdued when she resumed. "Only a handful survived. And there are those who, even though they survived, only lived half-lives."

Shaken by this dreary vision of the future, Chakotay stared at her for a long moment before he shook himself out of it. "Look, I understand that you're trying to help-"

"No," she interrupted impatiently, "in this instance I believe the word 'help' is gravely understating what I am trying to achieve. I took a chance in coming here, in a past to which I do not belong, and I am willing to do what is necessary to make sure that the plan is as safe as possible, and ultimately succeeds."

Chakotay nodded, impressed by the passion and determination in her tone. "I understand, but try to see it from our perspective. The future you describe is only one possibility, right? You said you hadn't encountered the hub in your timeline, so what if destroying it is enough to alter the course of history? Or, what's to say that these events won't happen even if we do as you suggest?"

"Of course I cannot be absolutely certain. But all my calculations point to much better odds of Voyager getting back to the Alpha Quadrant, with her intended captain, if you follow my plan."

Chakotay gave a long sigh.

"I have something that might sway your resolve," she added as her hand fished out a PADD out of her bag and handed it to him.

Chakotay took it, looking up at her curiously. "What is it?"

"The Captain's Log."

He shook his head. "I can't read the-"

"It's not Janeway's. This one starts four days from now."

That meant… After Kathryn had died in her timeline. It suddenly dawned on him: this was his future log. "I see."

She nodded and turned around to leave, but Chakotay stopped her. "Wait. I probably shouldn't be asking you this, but in the future you come from, are we still…?" he trailed off, unsure how to label their relationship.

Her gaze softened for a brief moment. "No."

"Oh. Was I one of the casualties you spoke of?"

"No, as this log will no doubt explain. You were still alive when I left my timeline. In fact, it was you who convinced me to come here in the first place." She paused as she studied him closely for a long moment while Chakotay took this in. It was hard to believe that he would ever take such drastic steps, even though from what he'd learned just now his future appeared remarkably bleak. A morbid sense of curiosity compelled him to wonder what had happened, not only to Voyager, but between the two of them.

As if he had spoken out loud, she turned back to fully face him. "Tell me, what qualities do you admire in the Seven of Nine you know?"

The line of questioning took him by surprise, but he was also aware that wherever this was leading to, it was part of a larger argument. He cleared his throat. "Well, she's…intelligent, brave, curious. I know for a fact that she would be willing to give her life for this crew."

She nodded, as if he was confirming her thoughts. "Have you never considered that the qualities you admire in her are ones that Captain Janeway herself transmitted to her, even impressed upon her, over time?"

Chakotay's frown deepened. It hadn't. The two women seemed so different from one another. "Where are you going with this?"

"I am merely suggesting that, perhaps, the feelings you believe are meant for Seven of Nine are misdirected. And despite the romantic aspirations you may be feeling now, and the unspoken anger you harbor against Captain Janeway-"

He opened his mouth to object, but she went on.

"Such feelings are irrelevant when pinned against your devotion and loyalty to the captain, and they surely will not help you deal with her loss – you will never truly recover from her death." She paused and Chakotay caught a sudden mischievous light in her eyes. "That is, unless you convince her to go ahead with the plan to go through the transwarp conduit. Only then will you have a chance to find the happiness you never found in my timeline."

Chakotay sighed as thoughts and possibilities and dread swirled around in his mind and in his heart. It was all so confusing. He wasn't sure why he was so resistant to the idea of helping Annika achieve what she came here to do. Aside from the nagging feeling that it was selfish to want to go home now and save himself from future pain, was it also possible that maybe it sprang from his sense of duty to the captain? Perhaps, but he had never been afraid to disagree with her when he believed she made a wrong decision. He looked down at the PADD in his hand, such a light object for something that contained such a somber history. Perhaps reading it would in fact help him, the captain, and ultimately the crew.

While he was lost in thought, Annika had turned around to leave again.

"By the way, who said I was mad at her?" he asked just as she was about to leave the room.

"You have. Or rather, you will, approximately three months from now, when you realize that this anger was what prompted you to involve yourself with me in the first place."

Feeling a mix of indignation and surprise at her insinuations, Chakotay looked down, frowning, and once she was gone, started to read.

oooOooo

"Captain's Log, Stardate 55002.9

It is with immeasurable sorrow that I record today as the day Captain Kathryn Janeway died. As per Starfleet protocols, I, Chakotay, have taken command of Voyager and am now Acting Captain.

The crew, including myself, is utterly shaken by this loss. I'm still in shock. I can scarcely find the words to write this. In fact I find myself reluctant to complete this log, since doing so makes it more real, somehow. And I am not yet ready to accept that. However I understand it my duty to record the events of the last two days, no matter how painful, so that's what follows.

About two weeks ago, we detected elevated neutrino emissions in a nebula in Grid 986. However when we went to investigate the anomaly, thinking this could possibly be a way home to the Alpha Quadrant, we found that the nebula was infested with Borg. We quickly backed out and resumed our journey. Unbeknownst to us, the Borg Queen had been made aware of our presence here.

Four days ago, when a small armada of Borg vessels showed up on our sensors, we had little time to prepare. But the Doctor, with Lieutenant Paris' help, had been working on a synaptic transceiver implant that would make it possible to directly maneuver a vessel by mind control. Counting on the fact that Tom and the Doctor would be able to complete the design in time to use it against the Queen and her armada, we devised a plan – as Captain Janeway's yesterday's log I'm sure details – that was meant to allow us to flee the area without having to engage the Borg by creating a diversion with a remotely-controlled shuttle, and some holographic projections that would place a fake Janeway in the shuttle.

Things did not go as planned. Feeling the pressure of the armada on our tail, the captain urged the Doctor hurry his prototype, and despite my and other senior officers' objections, decided to be the one to be implanted. That way, she argued, she would be better able to control all aspects of the situation, while risking no one but herself.

I am afraid my words fail here, as I find myself bucking at the memory of the next events. But I must finish this story.

For a while our subterfuge seemed to work, and we were able to put distance between ourselves and the armada, until the transceiver reached the maximum of its range. That's when our small victory turned to nightmare. The transceiver malfunctioned – Seven of Nine and Lieutenant Torres are still trying to figure out what went wrong – but just like that, Captain Janeway went into seizures, and minutes later, the Doctor pronounced her dead.

Captain Janeway had always been willing to give her life to save her crew, and even though I'm certain that this wasn't what she had in mind, that is exactly what she did, for she was able to distract the Borg long enough for us to escape to a safer area of this section.

The memorial service is to be held tomorrow.

~~Captain's Log, Stardate 55041.96

It has been a few weeks since Captain Janeway's death, and I find myself struggling with the weight of my duties under such harrowing circumstances. The crew's morale is as low as can be, and I dearly wish Neelix were still on board. He had acted as a kind of counselor to this crew for years. And this crew needs counsel now more than ever.

I make every effort to rise up to the challenge and be the leader that Captain Janeway put her faith in by entrusting me to be her second in command, but I fear my grief is affecting the performance of my duties. My first instinct was to immerse myself in the work and perhaps then be able to pretend as if nothing had happened. But I find that the more I immerse myself in my duties as a captain, the more I am reminded of her, and sometimes the fantasy is so real that it feels as though she would walk into her ready room any minute, order a cup of black coffee from the replicator before greeting me with a teasing smile. I keep second-guessing my actions, wondering what she would do rather than go with my own judgment. Many of my senior officers have noticed, especially after my uncertainty and absent-mindedness almost cost us the Delta Flyer, and it has already created some tensions among them. They have raised questions about my ability to take this crew the rest of the way home, and I can't say I blame them. Seven of Nine has also voiced her concerns quite forcefully, and it occurred to me that while we were both busy dealing with our loss, we casually started drifting apart. It is clear now that our relationship was a mistake. Be that as it may, I remain uncertain about the kind of leadership this crew needs right now, and if I am even in a position to offer it.

What would you do, Kathryn?

I wish you were here to counsel me. No, I wish you were here, period.

~~Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 55195.32 (2378)

Today I snapped at Harry on the bridge. And for no good reason, really. In fact I don't even remember what set me off. Of course I quickly apologized, but to know that I am able of that kind of random bitterness worries me. My headaches have been getting worse, but the Doctor can't find anything to explain them aside from stress. I find myself sleep-deprived because of them, which doesn't help my overall mood. I seem to be angry with everyone, and I don't know how to find peace again. A part of me – the part that had me join the Maquis in the first place – seems to be looking for a fight, anything to distract me from my own lonely thoughts and pain. Earlier tonight I sought guidance from my father and my spirit guide, to no avail. All I could think about was how I should have done something to prevent Kathryn from using the synaptic transceiver. If I had taken her place, then the crew would not be in such despair.

I feel empty. Numb. Not even scientific and anthropological curiosities seem to touch me anymore. M-class planets, first contacts with unknown civilizations, multi-colored nebulae, twin stars circling each other – all seem meaningless.

B'Elanna keeps checking up on me, and she often brings Miral with her. Even though I can't help but brush off B'Elanna's more obvious attempts to make me face up to my grief, she seems to know that spending time with Miral brings me more comfort than anything, or anyone else, could. At about 3 months old, Miral is as fierce as her mother and as charmingly easy-going as her father. Right now, her innocence and basic needs are the only things that seem to keep me tethered to the crew and our mission.

~~Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 55215.43 (2378)

I wish I were able to reach Kathryn with my spirit, and make sure that hers is free, unencumbered and as bright as the stars. I wish I could tell her how I miss her, and how much I regret being so secretive and distant toward her in the few weeks leading to her death.

Today I went on an away mission with Seven of Nine and Tuvok. It was a simple trading mission, (which I detail in my official log) and since I had been feeling restless and edgy for a while, the Doctor agreed that doing something more tangible might help me focus my mind.

On our way to the planet's surface, I had an interesting conversation with Tuvok about the Vulcan ritual of Kolinahr. While I wouldn't want to go to such extremes as purging all emotions, a part of me wishes that I could deal with grief and pain as peacefully as he has. It would have spared me much sorrow and anger.

This conversation made me realize something else too, something I should have realized much, much sooner; and that is how angry I was at Kathryn herself. Even though I had no real right to be, I was angry that she had given up on us. Today I was reminded of that time when Voyager was split into various time shifts, and for a while, I got to spend time with the Kathryn I had first known. She didn't know me, yet she came to trust me, just like she had in my timeline, and I was reminded that this bond, this pull between us, had faded away by the time she died. And I was angry because I believed she had been the one to let it – even though I now realized that we were both guilty of trying to move on. What is more, I realized that it was this anger, this need to retaliate by looking the other way, that had made me look at Seven of Nine in the first place.

When I confessed as much to Seven, she didn't look all that surprised, or particularly hurt. In fact, it was as if she had known all along. Perhaps her insights into humanity are greater than we give her credit for.

Here the log seemed to skip by about two Earth years, but Chakotay kept reading.

~~Captain's Log, Stardate 57000.2 (2380)

While we were always on our guard, it had been a couple of years since our last encounter with the Borg, so we had hoped not to encounter them again – at least not until reaching the Alpha Quadrant.

But it was not to be. Over the last three days, we have run into as many Borg cubes. Luckily we were able to pass by the first two without detection – as we used the atmospheric interference of a neighboring planet to hide from their sensors. However, we weren't as lucky with the third cube. We had to engage in battle – and sustained heavy damage, including a major hull breach.

We were able to cripple them – but we all know that they can regenerate quickly. We are trying to make our escape as I record this.

~~Captain's Log, supplemental

I regret to record that Ensigns Vedera and McLallan have perished during our most recent skirmish with the Borg cube. We will hold a funeral as soon as it is safe to do so. The attack has left us with minimal shield and two decks have sustained heavy damage.

Captain's Log, Stardate 57015.28 (2380)

In the nick of time we were able to form a temporary alliance with the Piveans. They are not interested in a lasting relationship with the Federation. However, with the help of their weapons and numbers, we were able to destroy the Borg cube that had been tailing us.

I dare not hope that this will be our last encounter with them, because I know it will probably not be so.

Here, the log seemed to skip about six years.

Chakotay took advantage of that rupture in the narrative to absorb what he'd gotten through so far, and try to shake off the dread that the last sentence had caused to take root in his gut.

He went back to the previous log, the one that described his alter ego's anger and conflicting feelings. It was hard to accept – hard to believe; yet this log was like a mirror held up to him, forcing him to face some things he hadn't been comfortable even acknowledging to himself until now. He felt the pain and sorrow and regret of his alter ago as acutely as if he had lived through it all, and he had to fight the urge to go check on the captain, just to make sure that she was alive and breathing. The whole experience was painful, and he dearly wished he could just stop going through the log and forget about it – but it wouldn't be right, and he couldn't escape from the images and memories that had already been created. And there was a broader message in there, something that his alter ego wanted him to know about, and he was pretty sure that he hadn't grasped it quite yet.

Another part of him was also embarrassed to think that he'd needed his future self to explain to him his own actions and feelings. It showed him a side of himself he didn't particularly like – a petty and jealous side – and that was difficult to swallow. Yet it explained his feelings with surprising clarity: he'd always known deep down that his current frustrations and annoyance with the captain were all the ultimate consequence of his everlasting devotion to her. But was he truly seeing Seven because he felt the captain had let him down? It sounded selfish and spiteful. Yet, as painful as it was to admit, it made a twisted kind of sense.

But even if he accepted this to be the truth of his feelings, what was he supposed to do with this knowledge? The first step was of course to rid himself of the anger his alter ego and Annika had mentioned, and carefully examine his feelings for Seven – was there anything real? Or was it just some kind of fantasy fueled by his petty resentment and loneliness? Did he just admire her because he was attracted to the qualities that, as Annika had pointed out, were remnants of Janeway's influence on her? Was she just second best? He hated that this log made him doubt the depth of his feelings for Seven, and he hated the idea that all this time he might have been using her for his own selfishness, albeit unintentionally. Yet he couldn't ignore these doubts any longer. He cared for Seven too much to let that continue, that much he knew.

And what about the captain? Deep down she had never stopped being his brave and beautiful warrior, his guiding light, but he was also acutely aware that a relationship with her was impossible as long as he was her first officer – she wouldn't allow it, even if she felt that way about him. He had to give Annika and his future self some credit, though, because that alone made a shorter trip home all the more enticing. Once in the Alpha Quadrant, he could easily resign his commission and teach archaeology in an anthropology department, thereby rendering the chain of command irrelevant. But that depended on many things, such as where his own feelings led him now, and what, if anything, Kathryn desired.

Unsatisfied with the questions and uncertainties that all these thoughts raised, he returned his attention to the log. He dreaded the rest of it, since Annika had warned him that there had been multiple casualties over the years. But he forced himself to keep on going. While what he had learned so far had made him reconsider some of his actions towards the captain, he wouldn't understand Annika's and by her account – his own – desperation to change the future unless he knew the full story. So he read on.

~~Captain's Log, Stardate 62508.45 (2386)

It feels like it was only yesterday that I had the unbearable duty to make note of Captain Janeway's death in this record. The memory of the terrible sorrow and pain that never really went away is made all too fresh in my mind by recent events. It falls once again on me to make note of another terrible event that has befallen this crew.

Miral Paris has been taken from us, and likely assimilated, by the Borg.

B'Elanna and Tom are shattered with grief and despair and I am at a loss as to how to help them. Nick, of course, is too young to understand what's going on, but he misses his sister bitterly.

This has greatly affected Seven of Nine as well, who was about Miral's age when she was assimilated as a child. She feels guilty, though it wasn't her fault, and she's been as angry and hurt as I have ever seen her. She has made a formal request to no longer answer to "Seven of Nine" but only to Annika. Strangely, she and B'Elanna seem to have found common ground over their shared rage, and they make a formidable pair. They are determined to find a way to get Miral back. I wish they will find a way with all my heart, but so far the chances of recovering her without endangering more of the crew appear slim.

I have loved Miral as if she were my flesh and blood from the moment she was born. I am heartbroken.

How many more losses will we have to suffer before we make it home? There has already been too many. Rumor has it some of the crew have started reconsidering their remaining on Voyager. I would lie if I hadn't considered giving up myself. But every time the thought crosses my mind I think about Captain Janeway, and I swear to myself that her death will not have been in vain.

As for recovering Miral, we will find a way. We have to.

Her abduction started when-

The log was interrupted, and Chakotay was relieved to be spared the details of the abduction. Unshed tears had already choked him as he'd read through that passage – he would probably weep openly if he read anymore. Yet, he knew that there had to be more. He took in a calming breath before he resumed his trip to the future.

Like his future self had foretold, between the Stardates 62509 and 64886, which by Chakotay's calculations lasted about three Earth years, the Voyager crew encountered one Borg vessel after another. There had been many casualties resulting from these encounters, 14, by Chakotay's count. But at last the crew's persistence seemed to pay off. While they failed to recover Miral, they were able to gain some intelligence about technology to defeat the Borg. By all accounts, this was the technology that Annika had brought with her from her timeline.

However, the crew's losses were not yet over.

Over the last few logs, the captain had alluded to Tuvok's increasingly strange and erratic behavior. In his log for Stardate 66196.5, his alter ego recounted how, while in charge of the bridge, Tuvok's error in judgment caused Voyager to get hit by fatal radiation waves from a hypernova lightyears away. The radiation from the exploding massive star was such that 9 crewmembers died, including Ensign Wildman. After this terrible event, Tuvok confessed to having a degenerative disease that had apparently started affecting his behavior, cognitive functions and memory. If only we had been able to get home sooner, the captain wrote, he would have benefited from the Vulcan cure, and Naomi would still have a mother.

About an Earth year later, they finally found a wormhole stable enough to allow them to jump forward by several lightyears. However, their luck came at a high price, as the unstable matrix of the wormhole collapsed two decks, once again killing 12 crewmembers. By that time, Chakotay's future self appeared detached, clinical, and bitter. Chakotay didn't like him much, but couldn't blame him either for retreating into himself.

The remaining few entries were about their return to the Alpha Quadrant at last, and to Earth in 2394, sixteen years after Captain Janeway's death. By then Voyager was as battered as what remained of the crew. It was clear from Captain Chakotay's log that, even though he had been in command of Voyager longer than Captain Janeway herself, he had always felt like a usurper, and that he could never quite foster the same level of loyalty that Kathryn had in the seven years she had been in command. Why that was the case was not clear from the excerpts included in the log, but Chakotay was aware that he'd only been made aware of key moments, and certainly not all that had befallen the crew over sixteen years.

According to the log, festivities had awaited those who had returned while memorials had been held for those who had not made it, but Captain Chakotay appeared extremely wary of the attention and good wishes. It turned out he was right to be suspicious.

His final entry read:

I am resigning my commission. After everything that Voyager and our crew went through, I can't believe Starfleet Command is still suspicious of my Maquis past. Luckily that is not the case for B'Elanna and the others. While I did not expect any special treatment, I was hoping for at least some kind of pardon, or maybe a chance to apply for a teaching position on Earth. But no. They even went so far as to suggest that Kathryn's death had been convenient for my promotion – because under no other circumstances would I have been granted the rank of Captain. Their spite and dislike of the Maquis, even though that fight ended years ago, revolts me. I wish Kathryn had been there – she would have been furious, but she would have used her humor and natural authority to make her point. She always stood up for us, and I know she would have stood up for me today. Not that I needed anyone do so, in fact I was more than able to voice my discontent (which probably didn't help my cause that the admirals required security to remove me), but it comforted me to think of her. I still miss my beautiful, wise warrior sorely.

So, since the admiralty so kindly reminded me that a post at the University was so far out of the question, I'm leaving. I will miss my crew – my friends, my family. But there's nothing for me on Earth. We were too late to help Tuvok and he has been institutionalized – his beautiful mind is all but erased by disease; Annika feels (rightly) that the Federation has no trust in her, and has been having trouble fitting in on human-populated worlds. She's been traveling and hunting Borg and abducting human drones whenever she found them to reverse their assimilation. In a way she's continuing what Kathryn did for her, and I'm proud of her for that, but she's chosen a dark path. Tom, B'Elanna and Nick have found a way to make a new life on Earth, but B'Elanna has never really been the same since Miral was taken. As for Harry, he might well be the only one who found a happy return home, even though his parents died a few years ago – he was promoted pretty much as soon as the crew stepped foot on Earth. It is well deserved. I know he will do well as a Starfleet officer, and I have a feeling it won't be long before we're the ones calling him 'captain.' But for most of us, returning home was not what it had promised to be. Even Voyager is to be decommissioned, and turned into a museum. I wonder what Kathryn would think of that…

If only I could go back in time, I would do all in my power to protect the captain, and right all of the wrongs that her death brought along with it.

Chakotay turned off the PADD, his mind full of the terrible images this tale had created in his head, images of his possible future. He took in a long breath before releasing it slowly. While destroying the Hub now would probably alter the timeline substantively, there was no way to tell how the Borg would retaliate should Voyager stay in the Delta Quadrant. He had to say something to the captain – not for himself, but for Tuvok and B'Elanna and Tom, and so many others, who would risk losing too much if they failed to return home soon.

Having made his decision, he stood with newfound determination. "Computer, locate Captain Janeway."

"Captain Janeway is in the mess hall."

oooOooo

Note: I realize this was pretty bleak, but I've always felt like it was incredibly selfish of Admiral Janeway to change a timeline in which things seemed to be going relatively well. Not only was it selfish, but extremely conceited, even for Janeway. I would have bought the time-travel plot much better if Janeway had had a more plausible reason to attempt it – like what we saw in the "Year in Hell" story line. So this is where this all came from…