Story Notes:

Disclaimer:  Paramount owns them, though they’ve locked Janeway & Co. away somewhere.  I just let them out for some fun.

Based on the Moving On series….

"Are we ready?"

    "Yes, Admiral,” B’Elanna replies

    "All right then," I tell the assembled engineers. "This is a two-minute test. On my mark ... four, three, two, one … engage!"

      The device was on target: its tachyon beam hits the test cylinder, which promptly dematerializes.

       "One minute, thirty seconds until materialization," B'Elanna announces. She gives me a   "Do you think this will work?" look. I give her a wink.

        "Ten seconds ... nine ... eight ... seven ...."

          At the one-second mark, the cylinder pops into view.

         The room erupts in cheers and applause.

 

         "Well done!" I say. "Next up is three minutes into the future.”

           Along with a shipload of technology, Voyager and I had returned from the Delta Quadrant with a bit of news: directed time travel was possible, and closer than anyone realized.

          My reports on Braxton and the Temporal Prime Directive amazed the senior brass.  But the report on the visit from my once-future self galvanized them.        When I took the Technology Desk, the order came down: Reproduce the chrono-deflector.

            It had taken most of the past seven years, and the liberal use of analgesics for me, to produce a replica.  We were able to modify it so that it wouldn’t burn out with one use, but it will be years before this device matches the one that Klingon had.

           "I'm not happy with some of the spikes I saw in the tachyon field," B'Elanna says, breaking into my thoughts.

            I note the readout. "Looks like the power supply. Let's pull the tachyon converter and test the power chips."

             The test shows no spikes. B'Elanna mutters a Klingon curse.

             "Well," I sigh, "maybe it is the converter. Let's reinstall it and run the test again."

           The test had barely begun when B'Elanna warns: "We're getting spikes ... big ones."

          I instinctively reach to turn off the device, only to be knocked backward by an unseen force.  My mind is desperately trying to reassert control ... but all I know is that I can't breathe ... and darkness is closing in.

         I awake with a start, confused. 

           "Welcome back," the doctor's voice murmurs in my ear. "I thought we'd stopped meeting like this."

            Whatever had happened, I'd survived. But something's odd here ... I can feel it.

           "What ...?" I croak.

           "You got a major shock, and a dose of tachyon, but I've repaired the damage. You should be fine."

            Then it hits me: The Doctor is at a conference in London.

             And apparently, there's more: A large hand closes over mine.  "You gave us a scare, you know," whispers a familiar voice that shocks me back into awareness.

            Chakotay?  Can't be ... but it is, looking at me with that mixture of relief and tenderness that I remember from Voyager.  And that look is making me very uncomfortable.

            I disengage my hand and struggle to sit up. "What are you doing here?"

         "The Doctor called me out of class,” he says defensively. 

            Class? Another shock: He's back in uniform, the captain's pips on his collar. He looks at me more closely. “When did you cut your hair?”

           “It’s been that way for years,” I begin, confused by the question.   "This doesn't make any sense. Why did the doctor call you, and not Jack?"

             Chakotay's face darkens. The Doctor and B'Elanna exchange a look.    "And who is Jack?" the Doctor asks hurriedly.

             "Jack. As in Admiral John W. Herrick the third," I say, making it clear that I am annoyed.  "Your golfing partner.   My husband."

             Chakotay's mouth drops open.  The Doctor and B'El are clearly alarmed.

             "Kathryn," Chakotay says softly. "I'm your husband. We've been married for 15 years."

             I shake my head, ignoring the ache. "No. Jack Herrick's my husband ... almost ten years now, and we have two children. You were back on Dorvan, last I heard."

              "Er ... we have four children," he replies. He fiddles with his pocket vid for a moment before he holds it up for me to see.

             Holy gods, it has an image of me, Chakotay and four children, all of them miniature versions of him.   And while that answers some long-ago speculation; things have now gone beyond creepy.  "Where's my vid?" I demand, looking around for my jacket.

              The Doctor produces it, and I grab the device and desperately call up the images, hoping they're intact.

              I'm in luck. "Here," I say, handing it to Chakotay, who looks in disbelief at the image of me with Jack, Will and Elizabeth.

 

               The Doctor swallows and quickly scans me again.  "There are some unusual readings here," he says grimly. "Something is definitely wrong."

****

 

   I have nothing to do right now except pace while I wait for the Doctor to return.  He'd quickly ushered Chakotay and B'El out, leaving me to my thoughts.      Right now they were racing around the possibilities:   A hallucination?  A temporal rift? 

      A quick look in the mirror confirms that I look the same. But apparently there’s another me out there who still has long hair.

          The door slides open to admit the Doctor.  "B'Elanna has gone to retrieve another scanner. Meanwhile, I have someone here who wants to see you. He steps aside to reveal a petite, blonde woman.

           "Kes!"  Try as I might, I can't stop the tears.

           She was by my side in an instant. "It's all right, Kathryn. We're here to help you."

           "No ... it's ... it's just so good to see you," I reply. "It's been so long."

             "You brought me and Neelix back to Earth with you," she replies patiently.

             "No ... you left us during the fourth year. You were ... evolving. You couldn't stay on the ship. "

             "Fourth year?" the doctor asks. "We were on Voyager for three years. And when we returned, Kes went to medical school and got her commission, in record time I might add," he says proudly.

         "And then this fellow proposed," Kes says, giving the Doctor a look of pure adoration.

             I swallow and try to cover my shock. "Congratulations." 

             "Actually, you're the one who made it possible. You convinced the Federation Council that Lewis should have the same rights as any other being," Kes says softly.

             Lewis?  Another bit of information that doesn't fit.   "Kes, something is terribly wrong here."

              She nodded. "You're right, there is."   She looks over at the Doctor. "Her aura is off."

              "What?"

              "Sorry. If you remember, I can pick up people's auras, or energy. Yours is familiar ... but something is off. It’s like you're just slightly out of phase. "

               "Or out of time," I finish for her

 

***

 

               B'Elanna's scanners backed up Kes' observation.  The readings in the test room were off, too, she reported.

                Great, so it's official: I'm in an alternate universe. I suppose I should be grateful that folks believe me; I could be sitting in a psych ward.  But what happened to the Kathryn from here?  And how am I going to get back to my family?

               "What was going on to land me ... uh … the other admiral in sick bay?" I ask B'El.

                "We were testing a time-travel device," she says

                I feel a chill, and it's not the temperature.  "That's what we were doing, too." But these folks wouldn't necessarily know about the chrono-deflector.  "Why were you working on one?"

               B'El looks at me for a moment.  “Truthfully, Admiral, I don’t know.”

               This I didn’t expect.  “Want to explain that?”

               She shrugs. “I can’t. “About four months ago, you … sorry … she came in and said we had orders to replicate the time-travel devices Braxton used.” She paused. “Did you have …?”

               “Braxton and Starling, oh, yeah,” I say. “So she didn’t say why?”

                “No.  I haven’t had much to do with it ... not directly,” she said. “She’s been working with someone else.”

                “Who?”

              “Her father.”

              The news literally takes my breath away; I grab the desk to steady myself, to B’El’s alarm.  “It’s all right,” I manage to gasp.  “It’s just … just that in my reality, my father’s been dead for more than 20 years.”

             “Oh, Khaless,” she says. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean …”

              “It’s all right, B’El,” I finally say. “Better that I know this before he walks in the door.” I manage a small smile. “You would need to call the Doctor then.”

 

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